Race day

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. This past weekend was my first foray back into longer distance triathlon since having kids and I wanted to share some of my experience.

Let me start by saying it is difficult to adequately express the range of emotions that pop up over the 5:48 it took me to cover the 70.3 miles.

There are lows of despair, pain, and self doubt, followed by bouts of confidence and elation. The smallest and most insignificant detail can move you from one end of the spectrum to the other, and right back again just as quickly.

Nobody likes swimming with company.  Biking and running with friends is great, swimming with friends really just means getting groped and kicked.  Even with the rolling start (which was way better than IM FL in 2013) the swim was more of a contact sport than desired.

I’m very grateful for a safe bike experience both training and racing. Seeing some of my fellow athletes bloodied and road rashed, or worse is a reminder of how fortunate I am to have avoided major accidents despite all the miles put in.

It also reinforces my decision to train almost exclusively indoors on the bike.  With a smart trainer and zwift, my biking is more efficient (in terms of not needing to load up and load out and drive to a safer road to ride). It is also way more diverse in terms of ability to climb, sprint, and ride different simulated terrain and topography.

I felt very prepared for the bike course with only indoor training, but it was a refreshing reminder of why I love to ride my bike. The cool December Florida temperatures (at least for the bike leg) paired with the rolling hills, rural roads, and orange groves, made for a picturesque Sunday morning ride. There were more than few instances out on the bike course where I found myself smiling, lost in the gentle mechanical hum of the chain through the cogs.

There is a simple and efficient exchange that happens on the bike that is magical. Human power goes in and locomotion comes out, but some of that majesty can be lost when looking at a power meter and a virtual world. The wind rushing past the ear scoops of my way too serious looking aero helmet, brought all that majesty back very quickly.

By mile forty seven on the bike course, after north of three hours of racing already, the gentle rolling hills and orange groves seemed much less enchanting as my legs started to fatigue and the new asphalt gave way to roads that can be best described as a taint jackhammer. It is a glamorous sport, you just need the right words to describe it.

The race start was delayed an hour due to morning fog, which was a good call, but it meant the run would be done in the heat of the day, even for the fastest athletes. My slightly better than .idle of the pack pace was no exception. Add in unseasonably warm temperatures for Florida in December, and the half marathon was set up to be a trip through the pain cave.

There is a surge of energy that happens in transition. Our senses are naturally enhanced by change, as an evolutionary trait, so the bike to run change brings not only a sense of completion and accomplishment, but also a much needed shot of adrenaline. That wears off far too quickly as you realize you have 13 miles to run with more uphill than you realized.

A two loop run course is wonderful for spectators and logistics, but it is a cruel mistress. The exit is always close, the self inflicted punishment can stop whenever you want it to. This is a silly thing to do to yourself anyway, why run another lap?

A shot from a friendly neighbor’s hose, the ice cubes melting into sweet relief down your back, a kind word from a fellow masochist, can all give you the push you need to keep moving forward.

The run course wound in an out of neighborhoods, doubling back on itself, in a way that made me frustrated and delirious. Those same rolling hills that seemed so enchanting just a few hours ago, rose up like a rock wall, shimmering in the Florida sun.

Wanting to quit, wanting to jump for joy, wanting a beer, these are all things I had felt before in varying intensity at different races. What I hadn’t felt was my ability to be a father after that kind of effort.

Above and beyond triathlon, the extra gear and the endurance that I have when I see those two smiling faces, is something that I wish I knew how to train, but I’m glad it comes naturally. Being able to take my kids to the playground and the pool, and run around the house with them after the race means regardless of my finishing time, my training was right on point.

Thanks for joining me, stay safe and stay sweaty my friends.

Misogi

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. I try to write weekly, so this would have been for the week of Nov 28-Dec 4, one week out from IM FL 70.3. because life often gets in the way it’s being written on Dec 9, three days till race day.

Despite being a notoriously braggadocious group, I have never heard a pilot claim to have a perfect check ride. There is always some small detail, or some overlooked aspect that could have been performed better.

I think the same is true of triathletes, runners, and cyclists. Even after winning an event, beating a goal time, or setting a new PR (personal record), there is always some aspect of the race or the preparation that could have gone better.

Neurologically, when we stress our body, especially the type of heightened stress that comes with the fast speeds and hyper focus of racing, all the details of the event get imprinted onto our memories. The same neural pathways are triggered when flashing lights, bells and whistles start going off while moving hundreds of miles per hour across the ground in a metal tube.

This is an evolutionary trait that helps us learn from what were typically life or death encounters in our ancient past. Hunting to feed your family, escaping a predator, traversing a difficult landscape to find shelter, all fit the bill.

Where those types of events might have happened somewhat regularly to our ancestors, it is relatively easy to avoid that kind of stress and discomfort in today’s society especially if you are above the poverty line in the U.S.

Enter Misogi. (You can read more about it here) An ancient Japanese practice that originated with a myth and has been adapted to a modern concept of challenge. The idea is to pick a challenge for yourself once a year that tests your physical and mental limits. A challenge that you don’t know if you can actually complete.

Part of the thought process is that you don’t know where the end of your potential lies unless you push up to the failure point. Part of the magic is that the neural imprinting from such a challenge stays with you long after you cross the finish line, or don’t for that matter too.

While I’ve finished a full Ironman triathlon, and finished a few half Ironman distance races, this one feels a little different. For starters I haven’t raced this long of a course since before I had kids. My priorities and responsibilities at home, and my time and ability to train are all drastically different than they were when I crossed the line at IM FL almost a decade ago.

Despite wrestling in hundreds of matches and grappling for closing in on 30 years, I still get butterflies in my stomach before ever match. I’ve been racing for less than half that time, and I get butterflies at the starting line too.

I’m sure when I’m on the beach at Lake Eva state park in just a few days I will have butterflies for the trial that lies ahead. Right now I have the thought of Misogi, a challenge with an uncertain outcome, that lingers in my head.

Like an old friend who has perhaps overstayed his welcome, the excitement of the challenge along with the uncertainty and doubt have become an unwelcome guest, but one that I cannot force to leave before the time has come.

I’m nervous and excited. I’m proud that my boys will be able to share this challenge with me, even in some small way, and I hope that one day I can share challenges of theirs with uncertain outcomes.

Thanks for joining me, stay safe and stay sweaty my friends.

Bourbon dreams

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. I’ve been reading a lot about America’s favorite drink since my wife and I visited Louisville last week. And while on a lonely Thanksgiving overnight I found this gem by Wright Thompson.

The following is an excerpt from his book Pappyland (which I ordered immediately upon finishing the article).  Multiple times throughout the short read I was struck not only by Thompson’s prose and command of language and imagery, but by the deep and meaningful themes he connected to bourbon.

“A career that aligned with my deepest wants and protective urges, both in how it would let me roam and how it would let me avoid myself by diving into the lives of others.  I’ve always been happiest when dreaming of escape. From my earliest memories, my greatest solace and focus came while moving, or planning to move, from small actions like pacing while answering flash cards to planning elaborate road trips I knew I’d never take. When I look back at my early life, everything I read and watched and love and hoped and even feared came from this desire to fly far away.”

The idea of avoiding oneself by diving in to the life of another is something I think journalists and maybe actors can relate to, but as Thompson points out everyone can get out of their own way by immersion into their craft. And if that craft is movement based (pilots, journalists who have to travel, or athletes) so much the better.

I wrote back in May about restricted movement.  Whether it is injury for an athlete or quarantine or lockdowns, I think there is a part of all of us that wants to rebel against movement restrictions in any form.  This is what led me to the world of endurance sports and specifically to IronMan FL 70.3 taking place in less than two weeks.

But more than just wanting to move when we are otherwise unable to, Thompson’s words capture an emotion that I think most triathletes and most pilots live with but struggle to balance and convey.

I look at my work schedule when it is posted each month and plan out adventures that may or may not happen in the layover cities I’m supposed to visit.  The schedule often changes whether by my action, my company’s, or external factors like weather or maintenance, but I’m still always moving to a different city and some new adventure awaits.

Most of those adventures involve some sort of movement, a hike, a running path, a walk through a different city to a restaurant or bar I like.  My next trip has a layover in Chattanooga where I’m hoping to get in a scenic fall 5k before stopping at a local diner with a desert case that would make the Cheesecake Factory blush.

There is something protective about movement, or maybe there is something vulnerable in stillness. Either way, flying to another place, running or biking, even if it is stationary, moving always has a net calming effect for me.

There is a magical effect when I walk into an airplane that my problems seem to melt away.  The airplane doesn’t solve any problems, and they are always waiting for me back on the ground, but flying has a way of lowering the volume on everything else in life.

Athletics have always held that same powerful effect for me.  The wrestling mat or the jui jitsu mat has always been a special place almost spiritual.  Like stepping into another dimension, where all your baggage gets checked at the door, I grew up Catholic and seldom felt that way walking into church.  There is a special mental space only attainable by forgetting your fixation on first world minutiae, and trying to avoid being choked unconscious. 

A similar state of mind occasionally becomes accessible to me after long miles on the road or in the saddle.  No one is trying to choke me, but the mental struggle against my weaker thoughts, my faults and failings, match the physical struggle to just keep moving.

I’m excited to read the rest of Thompson’s work, and I’m grateful already for his illumination of an emotion that I can so keenly relate to and at the same time, have struggled to express.

I hope that you the reader can find the same solace and focus in whatever your craft may be, that many of us find in movement.

Thanksgiving day treadmill brick run that came after 2hrs on a spin bike

Thanks for joining me, stay safe and stay sweaty my friends.

Power Curve

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. This last week has been all about getting over the case of the cooties as a family, and it reminded me of an old aviation lesson.

Learning how to fly is both art and science. You can learn and apply without getting too deep into the math and engineering side if you are so inclined, but where is the fun in that.  For me, the math and science made it real and added to my ability to process the phenomena I was experiencing in the plane.

One of those phenomena is the aircraft’s position at any given time along the power curve.  The power available curve (or thrust available curve, the difference is important but beyond the scope of today’s discussion) is relatively straight forward. The engine is capable of producing different amounts of maximum power based on engine specifications as well as environmental factors like temperature, pressure, and altitude.

The power required curve is a combination of the different types of drag that the aircraft must overcome based on its particular flying conditions. Some drag is based on pure speed, some is based on how much lift is produced.

When both curves are graphed together (power required vs power available) the image is a power envelope. This envelope allows us to determine scenarios (in this case environmental and airspeed) and how much excess power the aircraft has. How much more power it is capable of producing than what it needs.

Notice at a certain point in the graph, it actually requires more power, (and significantly more power for that matter) to fly a slower airspeed. This is denoted on the graph as the region of reversed command and is also known as flying behind the power curve.

Behind the power curve, is where I found myself in recovery from the cooties. I wasn’t moving as fast, or getting as much done, but It felt like I needed way more power to do it. I was moving a lot slower, but my engine felt like it was closer to red line than it ought to have been.

As the week progressed, I started to move out of the region of reverse command and get back ahead of the power curve. My power envelope and “excess power” expanded for things like resuming training and the extra attention and patience that El Duderino and Speedy often demand.

Obviously the cooties were a significant environmental factor that put me behind the power curve, but I was thinking about other times I felt that way. Whether it was the Doldrums, over training, poor dietary choices, jealousy, anxiety, nervousness or any of the other negative emotions that can drain excess power.

There are lots of ways to put ourselves behind the power curve, and while an aircraft can and will fly there, it isn’t the most efficient or the most comfortable place to fly. It is important to understand how and why to operate behind the power curve, and it is just as important to know how to get back out in front of it.

I’m thankful I was able to support my family and recover while on the backside of the power curve. And I’m even more thankful to be back on the other side and back to pushing up the power.

Thanks for joining me, stay safe and stay sweaty my friends.

Cooties

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog.  This week I think the cooties might have finally caught up to my family and I.

We should have the test results back in a few days but my wife and I have taken turns with fever, chills, headache, and sinus congestion.  Speedy and El Duderino have both showed similar although thankfully less severe symptoms.

Admittedly, riding 18 and change miles on zwift with the beginnings of a sinus headache and following it up with a few glasses of wine might not have helped.

Figure 8’s through watopia

The next morning when I couldn’t clear my left ear and the sinus headache was in full swing, the 1.1 mile swim date with my wife didn’t do me any favors either.

It is hard to stop the momentum from a full training plan, especially one that is supposed to be peaking, as opposed to being sidelined.

I was willing to look past a few of the more subjective and intuitivemetrics of how I was feeling, as well as some of the more objective ones (like increased body temp and respiration rate) in the name of a training plan. The results were probably not advantageous.

Thankfully no signs of respiratory decline

I’m grateful that my biggest concern is how I will bounce back for competition. I know that not everyone’s run in with the cooties is so favorable.

I’m grateful that I can be an effective father/husband/provider while still in cootie recovery mode.

I’m grateful that I have taken my own advice to stockpile fitness for times of trouble. I hope that my stockpile pays dividends as the calendar closes is on race day.

I’ve talked ad nauseum about how SerenityThroughSweat makes me a better, calmer version of myself. How engaging a strenuous physical activity pushes on the pain receptors, enabling the pleasure centers to have their turn in the aftermath.

The cooties have taken this option off the table. So not only are my wife and I not feeling so hot, but I think I’m in a (at least short term) below baseline hormonal state.

I’m reminded the quote from Fred Jung played by Ray Liotta the movie Blow “sometimes you’re flush, and sometimes your bust. When you’re up it’s never as good as it seems, and when you’re down you never think you’ll be up again. But life goes on”

Thanks for joining me, stay safe and stay sweaty my friends.

Pleasure

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog.  This week I was listening to the Huberman lab podcast episode 32 on pain and pleasure, and it brought me back to something my highschool rowing coach used to tell me.

Dr. Huberman is a Neurobiologist and professor at the Stanford school of medicine and his podcast covers a number of topics with a scientific and specifically a neurobiology approach to various topics.

Dr Huberman, does an excellent job covering very complex scientific topics, breaking down on a mechanistic basis what goes in the body and brain while remaining surprisingly approachable to the novice, unscientific enthusiast.

The episode on pain and pleasure was a two hour deep dive into the various ways we experience and modulate pain and pleasure and how the two are interconnected.  Specifically of interest, to me anyhow, was the research around dopamine reward prediction error by Dr Schulz

The study explored the way that dopamine levels are modulated when behavior is rewarded on a variable schedule.  The best example of this is slot machines in a casino.  Not knowing when you are going to win and then getting a bigger reward than expected makes the behavior more rewarding (from a chemical perspective not necessarily a financial one)

Dopamine is not really a feel good hormone, it is actually a behavior reinforcement and learning hormone.  The dopamine levels in patients did not change significantly and actually dropped after a reward was received.  The dopamine is instead released based on anticipation of the reward so that the behavior used to obtain the reward is what is learned.

This is one reason why athletes feel so connected to their training and preparation prior to a win.  The dopamine is released in anticipation of the win to reinforce the training behaviors.

This same concept can be applied to our own behavior outside a clinical setting. We can regulate our self rewarding in order to continue to motivate behavior.  The thought being, if you reward yourself every time you engage in a behavior you want to keep doing, your dopamine response will gradually decrease.  Whereas if you reward yourself on a variable, intermittent, or otherwise randomized schedule for that same behavior, your dopamine levels (which help drive motivation for that behavior) will remain higher.

The practical application example that was given was rewarding yourself or your teammates after a win or a hard training session.  There is certainly something to be said for celebrating your accomplishments, but celebrating every time can lead to reduced dopamine which in turn would lead to less desire to perform those actions that lead to the win in the first place.

In high school I joined the crew team my freshman year and was lucky enough to be part of a few very successful boats. Competing in both a lightweight eight man boat and a lightweight four man boat, my friends and I won numerous local regattas, placed at the NY state championships and even won a Canadian national championship.

After every win, regardless of whether it was our local club race or a national championship ship our coach would say “enjoy it today, because tomorrow it doesn’t mean shit”.

While that’s not my particular coaching style, and that type of coaching and motivation isn’t for everyone, it seems that it is at least backed by the science of motivation and dopamine reward pathways.

Halloween half marathon by coincidence (not planning on making that one a thing)

By not celebrating our wins and overstimulating a dopamine response, our desire to obtain a reward and thus the behavior that was required to obtain that reward was reinforced.

As with most topics we cover here, and many more we don’t, a delicate balance must be struck to obtain optimum levels of pleasure, dopamine modulation, and serenity for that matter too. In a first world of instant gratification, a self regulated variable reward protocol can help us reinforce good behaviors on the path to serenity.

Thanks for joining me, stay safe and stay sweaty my friends.

Doldrums

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog.  I’ve struggled the past few weeks finding topics that I’m really excited about.  I’ve also been struggling to get research done for my book project and struggled to make progress in my ironman training.  It’s not that I haven’t been putting in the time, and doing these things, it just seems like there has been a relative lack of forward progress. Like I’m stuck in the doldrums.

The doldrums are nautical term dating back to the 1700’s that refers to the latitudes 5° north and south of the equator, and their relative lack of wind.  Known as the Inter-Tropical Convergence Zone (or ITZC) this is the area where the northern latitude trade winds blowing southwest, meet up with the southern latitude trade winds blowing north east. Combined with surface heating along the equator this results in predominantly rising air rather than lateral surface winds.

Ships that got caught in the doldrums could be stranded for days or even weeks with no forward progress because of the lack of wind.  The term has since been adopted beyond it’s nautical roots to mean a period of stagnation or a slump in our own individual journeys or some other external phenomena (think low sales numbers or no new music from your favorite band).

I remember learning about the concept of global atmospheric circulation in my aviation meteorology class in college.  The idea that we can map out and predict the predominant weather patterns that affect our planet is pretty cool.  Understanding those concepts 300 years ago is almost unfathomable to a generation that has grown up with technology.

Stagnation is a completely normal occurrence, both in a maritime and an everyday sense.  The wind can be blowing at your back (a wonderful thing for cycling, running, and flying,) or it can challenge you, blowing head on (which you need to takeoff and land, and grow in general). Despite being a normal occurrence, It can be somewhat eerie when it disappears altogether.

As the name of the blog suggests I’m a person particularly predisposed to perspiration. The plight is only exaggerated in stagnant air.  Detailing airplanes in a hot Florida hangar with no airflow, I would lose track of whether I was wiping up sweat or cleaning spray.  I would finish cleaning an airplane and look like I just finished a wrestling match.

Stagnation can be in your mind as well.  I can feel the anxiety beading up and rolling down my forehead like the sweat rivulets otherwise would when I feel stuck on a particular task or goal.  Coming up with new exciting weekly topics and continuing research for my book project can definitely fall into this topic.

Regardless of how or why you experience periods of stagnation, and in spite of your ability to rationally and scientifically explain it, it is still a real drag. The doldrums can feel like a life sucking force.

Unlike those sailors caught in the middle of the ocean without wind, we have a lot more options at our disposal to combat the doldrums today. Maybe it is pivoting to a new topic or approach, maybe it is taking a break to return refreshed. As we’ve talked about on this platform before, there is value to be gained in pushing through a stagnant point in training even if it is only mental.

I’m trying to put one foot in front of the other, and one more mile together after the last one. Trying to string together words that reflect my own thoughts and feelings, and hopefully provide something of value to you and your own journey. The winds will rise again at some point, and when they do, I’ll reflect on my plateaus and stagnation points as I breeze by. The path to serenity isn’t one of linear progression, but no path worth taking is.

Thanks for joining me, stay safe and stay sweaty my friends.

Unable

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. Last night I was squeezing in a short Peleton ride at the hotel gym in the MSP airport after a long, reroute induced day. My favorite instructor (partly because she is so often quotable), Robin Arzon, said something that stuck with me.

I decided I needed to get some additional movement in after eating a late dinner and spending most of the day butt in seat. It was just a short twenty minute hip hop ride, but Robin was able to work in this gem. “no, is a complete sentence”.

El Duderino making Play-Doh medicine so daddy can feel better (may or may not have pushed the limits last week)

She then went on to say, something along the lines of “if it isn’t increasing my bank account, or increasing the vibe of my tribe, the answer is no, and that is part of self care”. While I think the latter part of the statement is a bit more crafted and word smithed, the first part felt more organic and resonated with me.

It is also something that we hear on repeat in the aviation industry but struggle with both inside and outside the cockpit. “Unable” is also a full sentence, and it is one that is extremely important to use.

Pilots tend to be not only a mission oriented bunch but also type A personality predominantly. This often leads to pushing beyond a sense of personal comfort to complete the mission.

This is a common occurrence amongst the triathlon and endurance community as well. Pushing past the comfort zone is something that is inherent to those sporting domains and seeps into the everyday decisions that those members tend to make.

I know I have more hobbies and responsibilities than time, and I often find myself trying to “do all the things”. Not wanting to give up the things that are priorities, but also not saying no when other requests pop up is a real struggle for a lot of us. Doing all the things is never an achievable goal and even aiming that high, knowing and accepting, that you will fall short can still lead to burnout.

This is where “No”, and “Unable”, find their essential place in the conversation. Pilots are very familiar with the term when it comes to the limits of their aircraft. If a controller wants a speed/altitude/heading that isn’t possible or safe, pilots don’t hesitate to play the “unable” card. But, being mission oriented, pilots are more reluctant to assess their own limits the way they would the aircraft.

To be fair, the aircraft comes with a manual, black and white criteria that it can and cannot perform. They are also tested in safe conditions to find their limits, and then placarded, with an appropriate safety margin or course. How familiar are you with your own limits and safety margins? Are they fixed and placarded, or more fluid and malleable?

With many of my hobbies, part of the draw is testing those limits, finding where they are and how far they can be pushed. The endurance/triathlon community knows all about this. So to does the grappling community, because there is nothing like testing your skill against a brother or sister who is also trying to test themself whilst trying to render you unconscious.

There is something about pushing limits, that pushes the throttle up on life. Life becomes amplified, in way that is addictive. Pushing that throttle up, is not without it’s costs, and limits inevitably need to be pushed further to find that familiar feeling.

It is ok to be unable. It is ok to say No. They are both complete sentences. In spite of the little voice telling you to keep pushing, there is serenity to be found in respecting your limits with complete sentences.

Thanks for joining me, stay safe and stay sweaty my friends.

Doors

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. This past week my wife and I raced in a triathlon for the first time in the years and two years respectively. It felt good to get back on the road, and open a door I hadn’t before.

Listening to ultra runner Zach Bitter talk to Lex Friedman, they floated the idea of race outcomes as doors you walk through. Specifically they were talking about quitting.

Once you have quit, it is like unlocking and walking through a door. Now that door is always unlocked and open. Once you have gone through it, it is always an option. If you have quit, you are a quitter, and can be again.

I understand the thought process and I agree with it, although there is some nuance to that designation, quitter. Sometimes discretion is the better part of valor, and quitting is the best option.

But, that’s not really what I want to talk about today. The idea of race outcomes as doors is really interesting. And the idea that if you haven’t unlocked the quit door that you are somehow more insulated from it is also interesting. Does that same idea work for other doors?

If it is your first time racing a certain distance, you’ve never unlocked and opened that finisher door. There is naturally a level of uncertainty with taking on a new distance, and likewise a level of confidence having unlocked and walked through the door of the finish line.

So every race has a door labeled DNF (did not finish or quit), and a door labeled finish line, but I think there is another door. A harder one to unlock and walk through. A door that most of us never get a chance to traverse.

That’s the door of winning. Lots of people race, lots of people finish, some may not, bit very very few win. For most folks, it’s not even a consideration. They race is against the clocks, the course, themselves, maybe a training partner or friend, but the idea of winning is never considered. The door remains locked, in an unlit and dusty corner of the room.

But every race has a winner, someone walks through that door. I would imagine that door is very much the same as the other doors. Once it is unlocked, once you have walked through, the idea that it is in fact an option becomes more realistic in your mind.

I like most racers, have never walked through that door. But this past weekend, I found the key and got my toe in it.

I finished as the male winner of the international distance triathlon. However, as my wife likes to remind me, fast girls have good times, and I was beaten by two very fast ladies so I finished third place overall.

It never occurred to me before this weekend that I might ever win a race. That’s the reality of this sport for 99% of the participants. And while I still haven’t walked through the winner door, I think I’ve found the key, and more importantly I believe it is a viable option.

The door has always been in the room, and it turns out I’ve had the key all along, it was my belief that was lacking. (And maybe some of the faster dudes staying at home that weekend, who knows.)

I’m excited to get back on the race course again, knowing that there is another usable door in the room. And I hope I can find a way to pass on to my boys, that many doors are open to those with the desire to walk through them.

Thanks for joining me, stay safe and stay sweaty my friends.

Learning

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. My toddler said something interesting to me this week that got me thinking about learning.

While burning off some extra energy jumping in his bed, El Duderino decided that I needed to jump with him. I told him I was too big to jump on his bed to which he replied,

“Don’t worry daddy I can teach you, Just bend your knees then stand in the sky that’s how you jump”

Zoo friends

Super adorable I know, kids say the darndest things. But, what caught my attention more was the interplay between teaching and learning. In order to teach something, it needs to be broken down into manageable sections.

For my toddler, jumping comes in two manageable sections, and while academically unspecific, it is a significant step from the “this is how you do it watch me” approach.

He had to break down the two different steps and then articulate them to me, the learner, pretty good for a a three year old.

I’ve gone through this same process with a number of activities but specifically grappling and flying. In order to teach something you need to be able to dissect it. Teaching effectively often times leads to more learning, because you are forced to analyze in a process oriented way that you might have omitted before.

Teaching someone how to land an airplane requires a mechanistic understanding of weather, aerodynamics, momentum, gravity, mechanical engineering, and the interplay between them all.

Teaching a double leg takedown requires an understanding of physiology, center of gravity, physics, momentum, defensive counters and reactions. Breaking down the process for others often improves your own technique.

Like any skill though, these data points all get recognized and processed almost automatically after a while. So going back and teaching them can be a refresher in what is happening at a subconscious level.

Not only does teaching then promote more learning (for the teacher as well as obviously the student) but it also enhances neuroplasticity and fights aging in the brain.

Any time we learn something new (even if it is a relatively small nuance to an already known process or technique) new neural connections are formed and old ones are strengthened. This is why the mechanistic breakdown required of teaching helps the teacher learn.

Even though you already know how to do a double leg takedown, you create new neural connections and synapses and strengthen old ones by breaking down your technique. Creating new connections and strengthening old ones keeps the brain plastic, just like keeping your muscles supple.

Life long learning can help fight cognitive decline as we age, and teaching can help promote new learning, even for already known skills. So teaching El Duderino how to jump a little more eloquently than “stand in the sky” will help me age gracefully and find serenity. (So long as there are no major tumbles off the bed)

Thanks for joining me, stay safe and stay sweaty my friends.