October sky

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. I was fortunate enough to have a long layover last week where I could see my dad.

We spent most of the visit alone, in our respective tree stands. Although no meat was harvested, I think it was a refreshing and rejuvenating day in the woods.

Our respective tree stands were a short hike, up a very steep hill, to the top of the ridgeline. Even at the top of the hill, we were still only five minutes from home and still had cell service. A pretty great place to be hunting.

It was nice to be able to communicate between the stands. We can let each other know when we saw something and which way it was moving.

We were also able to talk about some of the projects he is working on. He moved into this fixer upper farmhouse about six years ago, and there is always something that needs doing.

From new outbuildings, a new deck, tractor maintenance and repair, there are always lots of projects going on.

His skid steer tractor was down with a broken bearing issue. He had ordered a custom made housing, but it had not been made to his desired specifications.

He would send a text with an idea to fix or make use of the existing part. I would ask questions from my admitidly very limited knowledge base of the problem. Eventually he came up with what he thought was a working solution. He would have to fabricate another part, to use in conjunction with the misformed ordered part.

The whole process made me think of October Sky. How easy it is to burn things down or break them, and how much harder it is to make them. The generational differences of those that grew up making more than obtaining.

October Sky is a 1999 movie featuring Jake Gyllenhaal as a west virginia coal miner’s son Homer Hickam. Based on a true story, Homer is inspired by the launch of Sputnik to pursue amateur rocketry. He ultimately gets out of the coal town on a college scholarship, and ultimately works as a NASA engineer.

Homer starts by blowing up the new picket fence in his front yard. Next he almost hurts several people with a rogue rocket. His father tells him no more rockets on the company property.

Since the mining company owns the whole town, Homer and his friends walk 9 miles each way to get to the town limits where they can launch their home made rockets.

A helpful union machinist tells them their lower quality steel is the cause of their rockets losing launch velocity. He is happy to show them how to order the steel from a catalog and how to machine it and shape it.

In order to scrape together the money for the new steel, Homer and his friends take rail road track off an abandoned section to sell them for scrap.

Standard track in the US varies between 60 and 130 lbs/ft with the standard track pieces coming in at 4 ft 8.5 inches. Since it is a coal mining town I’m assuming they were on the higher end of the spectrum. That means each piece weighed upwards of 600 pounds.

These high school kids were pulling up 600 lb hunks of steel to sell for scrap, ordering their raw materials from a paper catalog, then machining and hand building their own parts, so they could walk 9 miles outside of town to actually use them.

I’m worried my five year old will soon figure out how to use alexa to start ordering toys directly to the house.

What a difference in cultural expectations in the lifetime of just a single person (1957 sputnik launch to today). If you wanted something, you had to learn about it. You had to build it.

This generation is incredibly creative. Building with digital code is still building. Creating digital content is still creating. But, I wonder how much we have lost by diverging away from the path of physical, tangible creation?

I’m reminded of this tanguble building spirit every time I visit my dad. I get to see what he creates both at home and through his work. It is an inspiring trait I hope to emulate and pass on the the next generation of men in our family.

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

Another layover in Roanoke, and another switchback run up mill mountain.

Shut Up Legs

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. Albeit a little later with all of the craziness that is 2020, this is one of my favorite stretches of the year, Le Tour. Hundreds of riders hammering the pedals across miles of the world’s most spectacular countryside is awe inspiring and motivating in a way that is hard to compare.

One of the color commentators on the broadcast, a former pro cyclist Jen’s Voigt, is famous in the cycling community for his remark Shut Up Legs! It is his brand, the title of his book and the name of his company and website. It is also something that all cyclists at some point or another can relate to.

SerenityThroughSweat for me has always been about finding peace, in large part through exercise. I think the ability to feel discomfort and then push through it. To realize the discomfort is only temporary and it is superceded by whatever the goal is, is a gift given to us by exercise. It is also what Jens so eloquently states in much fewer words when he says, shut up legs.

Anyone who has found themselves in the saddle, legs burning, and contemplating quitting knows the internal struggle that goes on. There are always an endless number of good reasons why calling it a day is a justifiable decision. Miles already ridden, lack of proper sleep/nutrition/hydration, inclement weather, other obligations at home. Honest self assessment, especially in times of discomfort, is a true virtue.

Getting ready for our upcoming mountain adventure

I try to think about it like Tyler durden would. “These are your burning legs, don’t go to your cave and find your power animal, what you are feeling is premature enlightenment.” Recognize the source of your discomfort, stay with it, not blaming it or hiding from it, and then say shut up legs.

The uncertainty I (and much of my aviation family) face is no different. Our metaphorical legs are burning with the threat of furlough and a long arduous climb of industry recovery looms on the horizon. We can unclip our pedals and call it a day, or we can say shut up legs, and take on the long hard climb ahead.

It doesn’t make the climb ahead any less daunting, or the burning feelings of uncertainty any less scary, but facing it head on saying Shut up legs! and progressing forward is the only sure path I can see for my family.

I hope that all of my brothers and sisters in the industry, as well as anyone else who is facing Covid related job loss, will join me in saying Shut Up Legs, and hammering forward in a way that would put the peloton to shame.

My aviation brothers and sisters

Thanks for joining me, stay safe and stay sweaty my friends. (And Vive Le Tour)