Christmas – Serenity Through Sweat

Heart

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog.

Sometimes, you find words that just hit you the right way. Maybe a song, maybe a line from a book or a movie.

The words can be incredibly powerful in their own right. Or, it can be a confluence of events, mood, vibe, context, that enhance the power of the message.

Life size Super Mario Bros made of chocolate

I’ve been thinking about this a lot over the past two days. What is it that makes the same words, the same message, so powerful?

It isn’t some magic spell, that when uttered, affects everyone uniformly. But there is something there. A motivational quote or a song that can give you an extra push, an extra gear.

I had just finished my morning swim in the pool on the twenty fourth floor of my hotel. Swimming indoors is already something of a strange feeling. The thick fog blanketing the streets of Houston and obscuring most of the floor to ceiling pool deck windows made it feel alien.

I still had my goggles lightly perched above my brow, and my waterproof swim headphones in, when I climbed into the hot tub. I fiddled with the strap on the back of my head so I could lay my neck into the crook in the corner of the hot tub paver stone floor.

I instantly relaxed as I sprawled out. My arms and shoulders floating in the steamy water, welcoming stillness after exertion.

My eyes closed as the song started to wash over me. “Somewhere in middle America. When you get to the heart of the matter, it’s the heart that matters more”

I hadn’t heard the counting crows song in quite a while. The music downloaded onto my waterproof swim music player is something of a time capsule. Closed and sealed somewhere after the fall of Napster, but before the rise of Spotify.

The next day, on my long layover in Albany, it was time to revisit my slightly stupid holiday tradition. For the 12th year in a row, it was time for the Christmas half marathon.

I queued up the live album to start my treadmill run in the dingy hotel fitness center, knowing I would need more than a little heart to get me through.

This tradition has come to mean a lot of things to me. One year it was a time to grieve after a loved one had passed. Another year, it was an ill advised death march, when I knew I was sick, and pushed on anyway. It has been a welcome adventure in new towns, and it has been a stale and stagnant trot on hotel treadmills.

Endurance sport, especially this particular event, has a lot to offer in the form of self exploration. What I kept coming back to this year is that emotions are not linear and rarely predictable.

I think it was Yogi Berra, who said predictions are hard especially about the future. Here is one prediction that isn’t so hard. Almost every endurance event will have some sort of low point, some place of self doubt or questioning.

Made it home to see these smiling faces on Christmas

You start to ask yourself, “Why am I doing this?” No one else is here, no one really cares, you can stop the treadmill now and get on with your day.

Humans tend to forecast current conditions out into the future, even when there isn’t great evidence to support that trend line. Look at the housing crisis of 2008 and the inflation that has plagued the past few years. We think things will continue on just the way they are, in spite of changing conditions, until we are smacked in the face with change.

It is especially easy to get into this mental space with some miles behind you and some fatigue in your legs. You start to think, “if I feel this bad after (however man) miles, how am I going to make it the rest of the way?”

If running got me feeling this way and thinking this way, how is more running possibly going to make me feel better?

And yet somehow, like those magic words, or songs, that have the power to change our state of mind, pushing through can make you feel better.

I was struggling around the hour mark at just under 8 miles in. I slowed my pace to a brisk walk and took the opportunity to talk to my wife and kids who had called to check in. Finishing was never in doubt, but the shape those last 5 or so miles would take was still to be determined.

Making the best of an unscheduled LAX layover

Before our quick conversation had even ended, I found myself pushing the pace wheel on the treadmill back up.

I worked my way back towards my target pace while still continuing our quick Christmas conversation.

It is a strange thing, that an endurance event isnt linear. That there will be highs and lows, ups and downs, while covering the miles. But thats a lot like life. Its not predictable. It’s not linear. It depends a lot on the mindset you are willing to approach it with.

Some climbing miles and sprint win on my new bike, the still be named newest lady of the house

And, when you get to the heart of the matter, it’s the heart that matter more.

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

Kindness

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. Against all odds, I found myself in a central Iowa bar, in the middle of a snow storm talking about surfing this Christmas Eve, and I wanted to share the experience with you.

This trip was the first line choice on my bid for December. I should have known better, but as has been revealed here before, I am a masochist and a glutton for pain. This trip was set to have a 30 hour layover in cedar rapids Iowa, followed by a 15 hour layover in Boise, and then finishing on Christmas day in Orlando around 2:00 pm.

It looked good on paper when I was bidding it in early November. The bomb cyclone that appeared days beforehand had other ideas. We landed in Cedar rapids around ten o’clock at night in blowing snow and 40+mph winds.

The crew who was bringing in the airplane we were to fly out didn’t fair as well, and never made it in. So that is what set me up to be in a local bar on Christmas Eve, watching the Bills game with some locals, and engaging in the conversation I want to share with you.

The first couple that sat down next to me came from an army household and had lived all over. One of their stops was Patrick air force base in Florida. We talked about the changes in central Florida over the past few decades. We talked about surfing the warm water of the Atlantic in contrast to the below freezing wind chill outside.

We shared our fondness for the space coast. The welcoming and small town feeling it had, despite it’s continuing technological progress. We shared our appreciation for the sunshine state.

They left around half time of the bills game, to be replaced by another local mother and son duo. The son appeared to be around my age or so, heavily bearded and heavily jeweled. I think he was wearing more rings, with more gemstones than my wife owns in entirety. Granted that is a low bar, but every finger was covered in a unique ring with a different color stone.

His mother was a self proclaimed long muscled and lithe woman who would outlast me on the bar’s non existent dance floor. She was an ardent disciple of stretching and long muscles, and as I found out, a proponent of being “kind” to your body.

Despite my agreeing with most of what she had to say about stretching and long, lithe muscles, when I twisted my chair to show her the IronMan logo on the back of my jacket, and I told her this was the eleventh year of my annual Christmas half marathon tradition, she rolled her eyes in disapproval.

Running for any length, but certainly a marathon (which she thought was 25 miles, but that may have been the 2-4-1 happy hour talking) was being ‘unkind’ to your body. Why would you ever want to be unkind to your body? What good could that bring?

We had a very nice conversation, agreeing on many fronts and agreeing to disagree on many others. It was a refreshing human interaction. But, it also got me thinking about the primary point of contention. Certain activities I was participating in were deemed as ‘unkind’ to the body, but then what is kindness?

Her argument was that running, biking swimming, triathlon, and certainly weight training, were unkind to the body. That their short term benefits did more long term damage. That the practice of them was unkind to the body, in pushing it beyond it’s limits.

It was difficult to pin down exactly where limits where pushed. Where was too far, or what was too heavy, or when a limit was exceeded. But in her mind stretching, lengthening exercises that promoted mobility and flexibility, and the ability to dance in her 70’s were all that mattered.

By this point the Bills game was wrapping up with the Bills coasting towards a division clinching win over the Bears. The 2-4-1’s had been flowing steadily throughout the duration of the game and my normal excitement to engage in debate was wanning.

Still, I couldn’t help but wonder, what is it to be kind to your body. What is it to be kind to your children? My five year old loves to tell me that making him do difficult things by himself is not being kind. And in a sense he is right. I could do it for him with greater efficiency and effectiveness. The immediacy of that kindness, would in my opinion, be dwarfed by the disservice it would do him for future development.

I feel the same way about my body. Treating it ‘kindly’ at the expense of future development doesn’t seem like a good option to me. Sure the masochistic tendencies might seem ‘unkind’ to the outside observer, but they come from a place of love. I love my body and all of the incredible things it can do. All of the grand adventures I am able to have and share in because of the ‘unkind’ stresses my body has endured and grown from.

No one watching a parent talk a toddler through a ten minute shoe tying session would deem the exchange ‘unkind’. Providing the parent was coming from a place of love and respect and engaging the toddler on an appropriately challenging level.

Be kind to yourself. Sometimes that might mean a little bit of a break, but sometimes it might mean a kick in the ass. And, it will always include a little serenity.

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

Misspent Youth

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. This past week I ran the 10th edition of the annual Christmas half marathon and it had me thinking about an old rowing movie.

The Skulls is a movie from the year 2000 featuring Joshua Jackson and Paul Walker. It was popular amongst my friends and I in high school because it featured a very unrealistic depiction of rowing, and there weren’t a whole lot of those on the big screen at the time, or since then for that matter.

Joshua Jackson’s character Luke McNamara is your typical underdog. He comes from an underprivileged background, makes it on to the rowing team where he outworks everyone to earn his way into a good college.

From there he becomes obsessed with gaining social status through a secret society called the Skull and Bones. It is there he meets his Skulls “soulmate” (read frat brother) Caleb Mandrake played by Paul Walker. Drama and crime ensue and the movie is far from a blockbuster, but there are worse ways to spend two hours.

Caleb and Luke come from opposite ends of the socioeconomic spectrum. Caleb is the poster boy from the Creedence Clearwater Revival song, a senator’s son, silver spoon in hand.

There are a pair of matching scenes in which the two “soulmates” help each other in the areas they are each more suited to. Caleb ties Luke’s bowtie, and Luke helps Caleb pick a lock in the respective scenes to which they remark to each other, “the skills of a misspent youth”.

Both characters help their friend, and both skills are valuable in the context of the film and otherwise. There is a tangible sense of regret and envy from each of the characters to the other, feeling that the grass was greener for the way they each grew up.

I ditched the captain, who had invited me out to Buffalo wild wings, in order to embark on my traditional holiday trek. I’m glad I did, and I’m happy with my choice. But, it got me thinking about the skills learned over 10 years of this tradition, which by many might consider, a misspent youth.

What started out as a planned training day while I was on call, morphed into a coping mechanism from being away from home and then into something more. Over the years the Christmas half marathon has taken place at home, in the snow, on a treadmill, and through the woods.

Getting zwifty before heading in to work

It has been a run of celebration, a run of grieving, and a run to stave off boredom. It has been exciting and much anticipated, and it has been slogged through and checked off the to do list most unceremoniously.

More than anything though the tradition has endured. After ten years, all the changes in my life and the world around, all the stress and added activity of the holiday season, this run has been a constant. 13.1 miles of self reflection.

There is an opportunity cost to everything. Time marches on, and every thing that we choose to occupy ourselves with, necessitates a removal of another choice that might have been made.

Endurance athletics in particular carry a high opportunity cost because they are often time consuming solo endeavors. Still, I feel the same way about them as I do about the Skulls movie, and the notion of skills from a misspent youth. There are certainly worse ways to spend two hours.

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

Tradition

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. With Christmas behind us, I was thinking about all of the things I did growing up with my family, and the things I want to do with my family now. I started to wonder, what makes a tradition?

By definition, a tradition is “an inherited, established, or customary pattern of thought, action, or behavior”. Basically anything we pass on to the next generation is a tradition.

Upper thigh parade in the new shorts for the 2020 Christmas Half Marathon

The creation of, and passing on of tradition is a powerful responsibility. I think it is important to not only explore the actions and behaviors that we are passing down themselves, but also the why behind them.

This year marked the ninth annual Christmas half marathon. What started out as an excursion in masochism and mindfulness to combat being alone on Christmas, has turned into something more.

Speedy and El Duderino ready to get the festivities started.

In 2012, after signing up for Ironman Florida to take place the following November, I ran 14.5 miles on Christmas day. While keeping my training volume up after a recent half iron triathlon and a century ride, the run was really about being on call over Christmas and not being able to see family.

As a charter pilot and particularly one junior at the company, I spent the next several years running half marathons on or around Christmas, either in different cities or on hotel treadmills. Finding solace in street, and comfort on the concrete, I pounded the pavement to combat the rising tide of frustration, emotion, and solitude that went hand in hand with professions that work through holidays, especially away from home.

Milk, cookies, carrots, and our letter to Santa

This pattern continued from 2012-2016. Five years, five half marathons, mostly a steam pipe venting pent up holiday emotions while working away from home. Then in 2017, El Duderino was born at the beginning of December. In addition, my grandmother passed right around Christmas in 2017.

I was planning on being home for Christmas 2017 one way or the other. But that year I was home with my wife and newborn son. I was in-between jobs on a sick time paid paternity leave from my prior charter job, and getting ready to start at a new airline that would be my career dream job. With a three week old baby, a well accumulated sleep debt, and the emotional toll of a lost family member very fresh, the pavement was calling for a whole host of new reasons.

2 is 1, and 1 is none, has never been truer than when your toddler takes your roller after you’re done running 13 miles. Thank God for backups

What started as an escape from solitude and an outlet for frustration, had changed with my growing family. There is a clarity that endurance challenges offer in a way nothing else can quite match. Whatever stresses or anxieties you lay on the alter of repetitive cardiovascular motion can be alleviated with the proper offering.

Over the past few years, managing my holiday schedule has become as much about being home with my growing family, as it is about making time to log those miles. My physical, mental, and emotional state has been different each year, and what I needed to get out of the run has been a little different as well.

A bold strategy for the days preceding the half marathon.

One aspect of SerenityThroughSweat is the process of working through those demons out on the pavement, in search of being a better person. The tradition of a Christmas half marathon, has helped me in what can be, despite it’s many joys, a stressful season.

Long distance running during the holidays has become an established pattern of behavior for me. While I would love to see my boys pick up and ultimately pass on that tradition, the run is just the mechanism and the reasons behind it, serenity, clarity, solace, relief, are what is truly important. I hope that those are the thoughts, behaviors, and actions, that are passed down through generations. In the end, I hope that I can raise young men who are capable of finding their own path to serenity, and making their own traditions

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

Expression

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. With the Christmas season upon us I want to talk about one of my favorite holiday traditions. The advent beer calendar.

Now you might be asking yourself, where does an advent beer calendar fit in to a fitness and fatherhood blog? And that is a very good question and the answer is in composition and expression.

Transferred from the brewers box to put homemade beer calendar

For the last few years my wife and I have enjoyed an advent beer calendar featuring imported german beers. Almost all of the beers in the calendar adhere to the 1516 Bavarian reinheitsgebot or “purity order”

The order set forth regulations on beer sales including prices, profits that could be made by innkeepers, the confiscation of impure beer, and the approved ingredients for making beer. The only things allowed under the order are water, barley, and hops.

My feelings on government regulations and the stifling of market innovation aside, I am always impressed by the variety of beer we are able to enjoy in these calendars.

Most come from small breweries that have been following the same recipe for centuries. Yet every beer has its own unique flavor, and distinct personality. A different expression with the same composition.

Maybe it is because I have been fortunate enough to have more time home with my family than usual, but this made me think about my boys. Almost identical compositions with a different expression.

The days are long and the weeks tend to blur together, but when I try to reflect on El Duderino at eight months old, the two boys are very much distinct individuals.

Speedy is smart and sneaky. Knowing what he wants but playing it cool until it is within his range and then pouncing like a tiger. When El Duderino was the same age he was determined and focused, diving head first toward what he wanted without regard to where that might land him.

El Duderino was also a bit more independent wanting to be put down and move on his own, where Speedy enjoys the comfort of being held, especially to fall asleep.

Cheers and Merry Christmas from my family to yours

Both boys, like a good German beer, are unique in their expressions of my wife and my genetic codes. I am grateful for all the time I have gotten to spend watching them continue to express themselves this year, even if I need a few of the aforementioned beers to help get me through. Na Zdrowie! Próst! And Cheers! To a happy and healthy holiday season.

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

Some running and mobility work as part of the 14 day splits mobility challenge

The Lion and the Sheep

We just got done running the Christmas Cookie 5k here in Orlando. It was a beautiful fall morning and the temperatures were perfect for running especially in matching elf costumes.

We ran as a family, my son in the the jogging stroller with me pushing, and my wife setting the pace at 24 weeks pregnant. My son was very excited by all the costumes, the Christmas music, and the promise of cookies at the end. As we bobbed and weaved our way through the crowd, he would alternate between saying walking and running. Personally I won’t try to analyze the word choice of a two year old, and I’m sure there was no malice in it, but, I understand why my wife said she felt bad for people we were passing, who had to watch a pregnant woman cruise past them while her toddler said “walking”

*WonderWoman with baby elf on board and Santa’s helper El Duderino dancing to some Christmas carols to warm up*

My first reaction was very Game of Thrones, “the lion does not concern itself with the opinions of sheep” there is no reason for my wife to feel bad for going out and running her race regardless of the other people around her. (She is my Wonder woman and she is pretty freaking awesome)

At the same time, comparing yourself to someone else and going to a negative place is not productive habit. In some races, or in some gyms, you might be the lion, and in others you might be the sheep. But you can always work to get faster and stronger, and control your reactions to those training around you. You can choose to be negative, or you can choose to be inspired.

Finding Serenity through Sweat is a much more rewarding journey when we feel good about ourselves and when we celebrate the accomplishments of our peers, and the two are not mutually exclusive. Thanks for joining me, stay sweaty my friends.