Cycling – Page 3 – Serenity Through Sweat

What doesn’t kill you

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. I found this really interesting article through a link on Sunday’s with Sisson and wanted to share it with you.

The article discusses recent research into the longevity of ants. While this may seem inconsequential, or unrelated to humans, the findings are somewhat surprising and unexpected.

The first part of the article focuses on the relative lifespan of queen ants compared to worker ants. While there is significant variety amongst different ant species, queen ants tend to live significantly longer despite their increased metabolic functioning.

The queen consumes exponentially more calories due to the increased metabolic demands of laying thousands of eggs. The increased calorie consumption and metabolic functioning means significantly more insulin production. Increased insulin is linked to aging as well as a host of other diseases in humans and other animals.

These ants have evolved into social creatures where only the queen is reproductive. This has lead to some other evolutionary adaptations. When a queen is removed from the colony worker ants will change into “gamergates” or pseudo queens. They start eating more, producing more insulin, and becoming reproductive.

The researchers expected the increased insulin levels to lead to decreased lifespan. However, the insulin signaling in the gamergates deviated from the standard expression and led to increased lifespan.

“Further work showed that the ovaries of the gamergates strongly expressed a protein, Imp-L2, that ignored the MAP kinase pathway but interfered with the second pathway in the fat body. “This protein appears to have the function of protecting one pathway that allows metabolism, but inhibiting the pathway that leads to aging,” Desplan said.”

The second part of the articles describes a parasitic tapeworm that infects acorn ants as an intermediate host. The cestode lays eggs that are eaten by acorn ants. The tapeworm must live inside these acorn ants, that make their nest in a single acorn, until the ants are hopefully eaten by a woodpecker.

If a woodpecker eats an acorn that has infected acorn ants in it, the tapeworm then moves from it’s intermediate host, to it’s final host.

The infected ants are very easy to tell apart from the uninfected ants because their color changes from brown to yellow.

You would expect that the parasite infected ants would have a shorter lifespan, since the parasite is sustaining itself off of the host. However the opposite was observed.

Infected ants lived five times as long as uninfected ants, in part due to a cocktail of different proteins pumped into the ants by the parasite.

Researchers are working to distinguish, analyze and retest these various proteins and antioxidants to see if the results are reproducible outside of parasitic infection.

From an evolutionary and adaptive standpoint this makes a ton of sense. The parasite’s ultimate goal is to get to the woodpecker. The longer the ants live, the greater the chances that they will be eaten by a woodpecker. Increasing the host lifespan is in the best interests of the parasite.

Whether it is increased metabolic functioning to step into the queen role, or parasitic infection, for the ants in these studies, what doesn’t kill them makes them live longer. (Not coincidentally, the title of one of the studies that the article was based on)

On some sort of intuitive level didn’t we already know this. The individual protein pathways and antioxidants are compelling. I hope the research leads to new understanding and potentially even clinical, pharmaceutical, and lifestyle interventions. But there is so much more to a healthy lifespan than a protein cocktail secreted from a tapeworm.

I like to bounce around on this platform, ping-ponging back and forth between topics that pique my interest. But every post, regardless of topic, has some sweat in it. Challenges that push the body both physically and mentally.

There is a mental clarity and a physical calm that follows these efforts. (SerenityThroughSweat) but there is also the undeniable benefit, that what doesn’t kill us, helps us live longer.

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

Intimidation

The lights seem to pulse around me. I know this is only an illusion. The effect created by the spacing of dim lights and alternating darkness as I float down the hall.

The sweat has gone past the point of beading and running, and has progressed to a steady trickle. I can feel the gentle squish of wet socks in each step as I make my way down the seemingly psychedelic hallway.

I know my body is depleted from the training and the fasting that is now approaching twenty hours. I don’t feel depleted though. I feel light. Liberated. Unburdened.

The squishing intensifies as I start bouncing gently to the music. It is a short way around the courtyard from the fitness center to my room. The twang of the guitar and the blaring horns during the bridge of Gregg Allman’s Midnight Rider, the dim alternating lights, and the runners high work on union to transport me back in time.

The pulsing of lights, footsteps echoing off the tile floor and the walls of lockers, breaths heavy with exertion. I’m running sprints down the freshman hallway of my highschool after wrestling practice.

Sometimes with my teammates. Sometimes in solitude. Occasionally the chemistry teacher, a great runner in his own right, pokes his head out to investigate this intrusion to his own late night solitude.

The same trickle of sweat fills my shoes and bounces off the tile as it cascades off my younger self. That same liberated, unburdened feeling seeps in. The work is done, and it was done in earnest.

The moment fades as I reach my hotel room. I haven’t had a runners high like this in a while. One that alleviates and transports in such a powerful way. I spend a lot of time chasing that dragon, but it is elusive.

I’m in Atlanta and spent the morning in the simulator. Cortisol levels run high in this place. There is no way around it. Knowing it is a simulation, doesn’t take away the feeling that the emergency is real. Being a simulation, it can be reset to the next emergency with daunting speed and efficiency. We aren’t designed for catastrophe on repeat, and it takes it’s toll.

I figured after the sim was as good a time as any to try this new workout. 6 rounds of 6 minutes at threshold running pace, with 2 minutes moving rest between sets. Add in a warm up and cool down and that makes a solid hour block on the treadmill in the training hotel’s lack luster fitness center.

One of my best friends and training partners had done this workout a few times before and shared it with me. I was intimidated.

I’m not even sure what my threshold pace is but my best guess was around a 6:30min/mile pace. That is, as the term threshold might imply, right where things start getting uncomfortable. Each interval is long enough to really make you think about it. The total time in zone accumulates quickly. The rest is enough to recover, only by the smallest of margins.

As much time as I spend intentionally putting myself into discomfort, there are still levels of it that intimidate me. Places I will shy away from. Workouts that I will procrastinate or put off entirely. Or tap out from early.

This was one such workout. I had toyed with the idea of trying it for weeks. An excuse always seemed to pop up. I didn’t have enough time. I would be too depleted afterwards. The alternative I gave myself was better suited to my goals.

It is easy to convince yourself of something you already believe. It is even easier when you are intimidated.

4000′ of climbing, I finished the event but the didn’t make it to the top of the mountain. Another intimidating challenge and an excuse made.

I’m not sure what about it was so intimidating. Extended time at threshold as we have discussed can be uncomfortable. But I like uncomfortable. I know growth comes from being uncomfortable. I actively seek out those situations. This workout though was an outlier in that paradigm.

It went so much better than I thought it would. The intimidation, transformed into satisfaction and serenity. I don’t know if my initial trepidation added to the post workout sensations I described at the start. That light, liberated, unburdened state of post run serenity.

The only time a man can be brave, is when he is first afraid. But the benefits of standing tall in the face of intimidation only adds to the elation when the task is ultimately completed.

Putting in miles in my old stomping grounds

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.

Belonging

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. Last week I stumbled into a little hipster coffee shop on a long layover in Oklahoma City. They had a bourbon maple pecan latte that caught my attention.

I typically load up my coffee at home with a lot. Creatine, resveratrol, NMN, collagen, cinnamon, and turmeric all make a regular appearance. Even still, there was a lot going on in that latte. To include chopped pecans for an oddly satisfying chewy sensation I was surprised to enjoy in my mid morning cup.

Between the heavy history of linguistics research and the multitude of flavors in the latte I was surprised when my attention was drawn to the window outside.

It was a windy day in Oklahoma. I had spent the morning running along the brick town canal and then the Oklahoma River. It was mostly quiet and just a few other walkers or cyclists were out. There was however, a small army of landscapers weilding leaf blowers.

It seemed like an exercise in futility, but there they were, it seemed a new team around every corner, battling the wind with their air cannons trying to corral the rogue leaves.

This was especially apparent outside the coffee shop window, where the small army and their mini jet engines could be heard through my ear plugs and over the hipster coffee shop music as I tried to work.

I finally looked up and saw this silly tree across the street. A lone act of defiance in an otherwise concrete jungle landscape. From my seat at the window it was hard to tell where the roots even had access to any dirt.

This was the source of all those rogue leaves. Which drew the army of jet blasting landscapers. Which in turn was providing a myriad of distractions from my project at hand. This tree obviously didn’t belong here.

Or did it.

I am very grateful for these long layovers. Away from the inevitable busyness of a flying day or life as a father and husband, I am able to have such trivial contemplations.

The tree certainly didn’t fit with the rest of the scene, and my initial reaction was that it didn’t belong. The landscaping team certainly shared my belief, fighting their uphill and upwind battle illy equiped against the leaves.

What if I got it wrong? What is the tree did belong there. What if it belonged there more than the sidewalk, or the condo, or the hipster coffee shop? Who gets to decide what belongs and what does not.

I smiled to myself as I chewed on my latte, suddenly much more appreciative of the distraction from my project. My initial reaction was unnecessarily hostile and misguided. As quickly as it came though, a competing idea bubbled up.

I thought about my boys, growing up in a world that seems to be increasingly divided and polarized. A world with spaces were belonging can be artificially defined.

I’m not sure they are old enough, and even when they are they might not fully appreciate this story. It is after all one trivial contemplation among many that I hope to bequeath them.

Maybe you had to be there. Trying to block out the hipster music and the leaf blowers, oddly chewing on pecans in a latte, reading esoteric linguistic research to really appreciate that renegade growing tall out of the concrete and peppering passers-by with it’s foliage.

But, I think it’s lesson is a valuable one. Our first reaction to who or what belongs, is not always the right one. There is beauty to be found especially in outliers, that might not seem to belong.

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

Durability

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. While this blog tends to wander with my mind and interests, it had at its heart the foundation of rigorous physical movement as a part of the path towards enlightenment and some sort of inner peace.

With that in mind, i wanted to talk about the concept that was presented on one of my last zwift workouts. Durability.

Zwift is the virtual cycling platform I use to train. They have curated a very extensive library of training plans and workouts, developed by professional coaches and athletes across multiple cycling and and endurance disciplines.

Each of these curated workouts has some text pop ups periodically throughout the workout. They range from small coaching tips and motivational messages, to full scientific explanations of the training methodology. The latter normally coming in the warmup phase when you aren’t focused on sucking air and trying not to embarrassingly fall off a fixed bike trainer.

As I was spinning my legs, warming up, and getting into the right headspace for a more focused training session, I wasn’t really ready for the very scientific and research based information that was being displayed in fading text bubbles.

The words passed along the screen, and I had enough otherwise unoccupied attention to realize they were important and interesting. I immediately pulled out my phone to search for the fragments of the explanation I could remember.

I found the following research paper, which was obviously the one the coach and designer of the workout was referring to, since he quoted the definition of durability verbatim.

“Therefore, applied exercise physiologists working with endurance athletes would benefit from development of physiological-profiling models that account for shifts in physiological-profiling variables during prolonged exercise and quantify the ‘durability’ of individual athletes, defined as, “the time of onset, and magnitude of deterioration, in physiological-profiling characteristics over time, during prolonged exercise.”

The team from Auckland University argues that much of the information that goes into training plan design and race pacing strategy is based on variables that are measured in a static, and usually rested, environment. Those variables of course change and degrade with time and effort. The time of onset and magnitude of deterioration is important to understand for each athlete in maximizing performance.

The workouts seek to measure or at least help you understand these characteristics in yourself by putting you into a state of fatigue, and then having some sort of repeatable assessment .

A cycling example would be a five minute time trial at the end of designed one hour workout. A running example could use an all out one mile time after a similarly structured one hour workout.

5 min time trial after a deliberately fatiguing effort

How long into a prolonged effort does your performance start to deteriorating? What is the magnitude of that deterioration? Is it linear? Does it change drastically with different perceived levels of exertion? Just how durable are you?

These are important questions. Regardless of your status as an endurance athlete, or an athlete at all. How durable are you mentally? Emotionally?

I can certainly think of more than a few instances with my boys where the ‘time of onset and magnitude of deterioration’ in my emotional profiling characteristics would not be considered durable.

As a triathlete this research fascinates me. I also directly benefit from it since coaches are reading it and using it to design workouts I have access to. I also think the ability to say ‘here defined as’ is magical.

The research team is able to specify the niche in which they wish to work. The set the definitions. They remove the potential for misconception as well as focus the readers attention in the desired direction.

Of course my mind takes the concept and wanders with it. Applying it to fatherhood, to my marriage, to research and writing projects after a long run. All of that is still within the confines of their definition. Here defined as.

The coaches and exercise physiologists can develop workouts and training plans that improve durability. Increase the time to onset. Reduce the magnitude of deterioration. Maybe even a little of each.

Who wouldn’t like to be a little more physically durable? Who wouldn’t like to be a little more mentally or emotionally durable? I think there is plenty of room for crossover between the two.

I’m by no means suggesting you deliberately exhaust yourself prior to handling a temper tantrum. But the next time it happens, as a parent and an athlete it is a matter of when not if, see it as an opportunity to become more durable.

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

Noise

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. This week I want to talk about noise.

Maybe not in the typical sense that we think of it. There are different types of noise, and they all play a part in disrupting not only effective communication, but our general happiness and even our health.

I found the idea of noise disrupting our health in the book Lifespan by Dr David Sinclair. Dr Sinclair’s message condensed down to an elevator pitch, is that ageing is a disease that can be treated, halted, and even potentially reversed.

A significant part of ageing is noise in the communication between our genes and our cells. Minimizing that noise, and ensuring genes and cells effectively communicate, keeps cells healthy, operating properly, and young.

Dr. Sinclair goes on to quote Claude Shannon, one of the founding fathers of information theory back from 1948.

Shannon’s noisy channel coding theorem, says that “however contaminated with noise interference a communication channel may be, it is possible to communicate digital data error free up to a given maximum rate through the channel. (a mathematical theory of communication, 1948)

Dr Sinclair uses this theory of information transfer as an example for how our genes and cells communicate, as well as what we can do to minimize the noise, thus maximizing the error free data transfer (effective communication)

This got me thinking about the types of noise we experience in interpersonal communications, some of which I recognized without knowing they had their own specific domains. Physiological, physical, psychological, and semantic noise all play their own part in disruption.

Physiological noise refers to anything going on within our personal body that might hinder communication. This could be a headache, hunger, fatigue or other physiological conditions. Think those Snickers commercials. Why don’t you have a Snickers, you don’t listen so well when you’re hungry.

Physical noise refers to disruptions that are physical in nature but external to the receiver. Think headset/radio/phone malfunction, a crowded room, or even a bright and distracting light.

Psychological noise refers to disruptions that are internal to the receivers thought process. If you are preoccupied with another problem, or day dreaming instead of listening that would be psychological noise.

Finally semantic noise is a misunderstanding of words between the sender and receiver. This could be due to lack of shared knowledge, language barrier, or cultural differences.

There is no shortage of barriers to effective communication. There is always some noise present, and often there is a lot of it. The constant noise we live with, makes determining Shannon’s maximum error free data transfer rate a crucial piece of information to know and apply.

Staying at or below the applicable Shannon rate for a given exchange will ensure the message is transmitted effectively. If you have ever had a conversation at a loud concert, with a foreign speaker, a toddler, or someone with a bad hangover, you already understand self limiting your rate of data transfer through the given channel. (If you’ve ever been the hungover one this is greatly appreciated)

Taking account of the noise around us, and the overall capacity of our channels of communication is a demanding and everpresent task. One that helps pave the path to serenity.

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

Heavy

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. This week I want to talk about magic. Specifically the magical powers that our children have.

I found myself contemplating this magic while taking in a particularly enjoyable Florida evening. We have finally reached the point where summer temperatures have started to yield intheir oppression and give way to milder mornings and evenings.

The soft droning of the blower fan was soothing in it’s monotony. There were no clouds in the evening sky, at least not in my vantage point. The horizon was beginning it’s diurnal shift from blue to black, showcasing the majestic purples, pinks, and oranges along the way.

I was enjoying this unusual moment of tranquility on a school night home with my boys, because of their magic. They had made me “heavy” inside our bounce house while they ran away.

El Duderino got the idea from an episode of Bluey. Bluey is a family of Australian dogs that have cheeky adventures. It is available on the Disney channel.

The writers do a great job of working in adult humor and a family environment that children are drawn to. My only complaint is the unrealistic commitment to bits that Bluey and Bingo’s Mum And Dad have. It sets an almost unattainable bar for us real life human parents to strive for.

In the episode El Duderino is particularly fond of, Bluey and Bingo come into a magic feather with the power to make things “heavy” or “unheavy”. Childish shenanigans ensue as the kids make everything their parents are trying to do or use heavy, and the parents are all to happy to play along.

Morning breakfast cereal, heavy. Car keys, heavy. Neck tie, heavy. It is seven and a half minutes (out of a nine minute show) of Mum and Dad dragging themselves and their items across the floor until the magic feather is retrieved from the kids.

So when El Duderino and Speedy got tired of me tickling them in the bounce house, they made me “heavy” and ran away. It was there laying on the bounce house floor, taking in the majesty of the sky changing colors in the waning minutes of the evening, and the serenity of that peaceful moment, that I thought about their real magic powers of heavy and unheavy.

Their laughter, their smiles, their unprompted embraces. Their growth and learning, even if it sometimes feels like a snails pace. These are the things that magic is made of. More than any magic feather, these lift all the weight of the day I may be carrying more than any “unheavy” spell ever could.

they boys new favorite Halloween race video

At the same time their struggles, their cries, their whining, and general inability or willful decision not to listen, add a weight that can seem unbearable. Like a neck tie made heavy when you are trying to get out the door. Dragging you to the floor with a determination that is insurmountable.

To them it is just a game. But to my wife and I, to all parents, their magic is very real. It can be “heavy”, and it can be “unheavy”. It can bounce back and forth between the two as quickly as my boys imagination does when we play. From their depths of despair that I feel powerless to help them in, to the peaks of parental pleasure when everyone is playing together happily, there is a magic in children that is hard to quantify.

That magic, the emotions that it elicits within us, could also be described as heavy. Probably by a cast member from Dazed and Confused, but heavy nonetheless. And certainly a part of the path to serenity.

i may have got a little overzealous for Zwift Pretzel fest.

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

Camaraderie

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. This week I’m musing on our social interactions, and sometimes the lack thereof.

The last few years has seen a lot of change in the way people socialize and engage with each other. Distancing, masking, video calls, all of them remove some of what it is to be together.

It is easy to feel lonely in this profession. Lots of time away from home. A rotation of coworkers you may not even see again. Strangers with the same occupation, in some cases, is a better description.

I find beauty and purpose in what I do, and the opportunities that it affords me. But, that loneliness is one of the burdons. Always finding it’s way into your checked baggage.

This past week hurricane Ian came through the Florida peninsula. In a major shift from the early days of COVID, this was a time to rally around family instead of distance from it.

It was also a time of checking on friends and neighbors. Some that I hadn’t heard from in a while. Some that I had been meaning to reach out to but hadn’t found the time. Or whatever combination of excuse and apathy leads to old friends fading away.

Regardless phones were dialed and conversations were had. Conversations that lasted well into the night. Reviving that essential part of us that yearns for connection. That yearns for camaraderie.

The time with family. The time with friends, was good for my soul. But, it was a different scene that had me thinking about camaraderie.

Dropping off El Duderino to school and Speedy to daycare when I am home is a great privilege. I recognize there are lots of parents who must choose between time with their kids or providing for them. I’m blessed to draw balance in that regard. It is however, a bit like herding cats.

Both boys are on totally different sleep schedules. Speedy will be up most morning around 5:30. El Duderino often needs to be woken up around 7:30 so he has time to scarf something before going to VPK.

Boys day out to spooky Crayola and Waffle House

The second mommy leaves for work, she magically becomes the only one capable of solving problems. Our motley crew of misguided testosterone makes it out the door most mornings in a disheveled whirlwind of whining and pleading, with nary a minute to spare. (Despite two thirds of us already being up for two and half hours prior)

This past week after dropping off Speedy and circling back to El Duderino’s pre school, we made it to the curb in from of the drop off line right at the buzzer. The rest of the class was lined up and the teachers seemed impatient, waiting on those of us subpar parents utilizing every one of the 15 minutes in window for drop off.

El Duderino got out of the car noncommittally. I gave him a hug and put his back pack around his shoulders. The bag is far too big for him. The fact that it is nearly empty, and off balanced by the metal juice bottle on the side, only adds to the eccentricity of his saunter the 29 yards from my car, through the fence, and into the back of the line.

A beautiful day in Tucson, running the Arizona Wildcats’ stadium

Just as he passed the fence line two of his classmates broke rank. I could hear them calling his name as they ran to embrace him. Two more joined in the group hug before it was done.

El Duderino seemed very nonchalant about the entire episode. It is hard to tell his reaction because he was facing away from me. But he seemed to treat it as a normal occurrence. For me it was all I could to to keep it together watching through the windshield.

Such unbridled joy and excitement. Spectacular social connection for a boy who (somewhat like his father) has a tendency towards being a loner. It was a welcome reminder of the power of camaraderie.

Zwift Academy, getting faster and stronger

One I’m fortunate my son was able to show me, even though he has no idea.

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

Delimitation

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. Continuing to work my way through linguistic research I came across the following entry from General Course in Linguistics by Ferdinand Sassure.

“A linguistic entity is not ultimately defined until it is delimited, i.e. separated from whatever there may be on either side of it in a sequence of sounds. It is these delimited entities or units which contrast with one another in the mechanism of language”

At the same time I was reading this passage I was listening to the Huberman Lab podcast with movement and mobility master, Ido Portal. When Ido spoke about movement he intentionally didn’t define it or delimit it.

You can find the full conversation on the Huberman Lab podcast, but I’ll paraphrase his message. “A fluid is delimited by it’s container but that is not the entirety of it’s being. So it is with movement”

Ido also said it was his goal to not answer any of Professor Huberman questions because words are incomplete and delimiting entities.

I was struck the the diametric opposition of these two points. It is obviously a philosophical thought experiment. One that may not have an entirely productive outcome. But, I found it fun to engage in none the less.

On the one hand, a linguistic unit (not always as simple in academic terms but for our purposes today: a word) only has meaning by it’s delimitation from all other words. On the other hand, an idea, being delimited by a word will often fail to capture the entirety of it’s essence or being.

Words are our most effective tool to express ideas. But words are an imperfect tool. Both Sassure and Portal approach the same point, that words are primarily negatively defined entities, from different angles.

That means that words are defined more so by what they aren’t, than what they are. It is easier to define a difficult word by pointing out how it is unlike other words than what it actual is itself.

Think about a word like morose: “having a gloomy or sad disposition”. But feeling morose isn’t gloomy, or sad, or upset, or depressed. If it were, those words would do, and there would be no need for morose. The same could be said of ecstatic. Happy, joyful, glad, excited… All of these words are close but not exact. We define our some of our most important words negatively, by how they are unlike other “known” quantities.

I think that is why there is such beauty in art. Whether it is the written word, music, or some form of visual expression or story telling. We appreciate the exquisite exchange of ideas.

With an inherent knowledge that words are imperfect, and negatively defined, we are captivated when the right combination of words transcends those boundaries. When a passage speaks to us in a way that isn’t delimited by it’s container. When we feel that we truly understand it’s essence.

Maybe it was your favorite song. A poem that spoke to you. A passage by your favorite author. We all have some array of words which has deeply touched us and conferred meaning beyond the sun of their parts.

Riding through a zwift academy workout this morning “The Light” by Common came on. The rapper’s take on complex topics accompanied by captivating beats, is rivaled only by his longevity in the industry. The song is a dive into relationship communication and one line stuck with me as I struggled to breath through the above FTP effort.

“I never call you my b*tch or even my boo, there’s so much in a name, and so much more in you.”

Words are incredible tools. Occasionally we can string them together in a way that is transcendent. For the rest of the time there is beauty in the struggle to define essence with imperfect tools.

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

Summer

What is a summer day made of? The dog days of summer are here. My wife is back in the classroom as a teacher for the first time since the pandemic emerged. El Duderino, my little linguistic four year old has started VPK at the school at the end of our neighborhood. I spend my mornings at home corralling him and Speedy, getting them to their respective school and daycare on time so my wife can have a sembelance of normalcy in the morning at least part of the time. When im working all of those duties fall to her.

Speedy generally gets dropped off first at a small in home daycare. “GiGi” has been as much a part of the boys life as I have. During particularly busy periods, maybe more so than me. Then it’s El Duderino’s turn. The elementary school sits at the end of our neighborhood. Maybe a half a mile following the sidewalks as they twist around gator filled retention ponds, and wind their way through suburbia. El Duderino rolls ahead of me on an aqua marine three wheel scooter with light up wheels. He is becoming skilled enough that I can’t keep up with him at just a walk anymore. Wearing sandals is no longer an option. I need closed toed shoes and a gait somewhere between a prance and a jog to keep up. Awkward enough to get second looks from the seniors and moms power walking at 8 am. But, I’m sure endearing none the less. Seeing an obviously uncaffeinated and disheveled father chasing his son down the street. Dinosaur backpack and spider man lunchbox in hand, so he can focus on the scooter.

About half way to the school he pauses to tell me this trip is annoying. I’m not sure our personal ideas of annoying line up, but I think I can empathize. The dog days of summer in Orlando mean that even this 8am short scoot to school is already sweltering in the upper 80’s. The air is sticky, and clings to you in an oppressive way. Like you owe it a favor and it is here to collect. It wont take no for an answer.

When I first started college in Melbourne Fl, around the same time of year, in the dog days of summer of 2005, I remember those same feelings. The excitement and anticipation of new adventures and opportunities. The social anxiety of a new places and new people. The growing laundry hamper as I would change my clothes after every single class. The walk from my dorm to any class and back, regardless of the time of day would leave me soaked, sweat stained, and contemplating my educational choices. I think I called my mom at some point and told her that I wasn’t sure I was up to this. I’m no stranger to sweating, but normally it is in athletic wear and a setting more of my choosing.

This morning was quite different. The dog days of summer in Burlington VT remind me of what a summer day is made of. In Fl we have it everyday, it isn’t special, because it is the norm, rather than the exception. I have grown to really like this layover, seeing it in both the depths of winter as well as the picturesque day I have enjoyed today.

The sky over Lake Champlain is that faded gray blue of optimism. Not the story book blue that looks so bold and perfect to be cartoonish. The faded and more realistic duller version. The one that inspires adventure because it is lacking in that crisp perfection. There is still room to grow. The breeze blows gently. Just enough to flitter the leaves along the running path and keep the mid sixties air from feeling stagnant. The lake and the mountains silently battling for your attention in the naturally beautiful background.

After my admittedly optimistic and subsequently failed attempt to get out and run a half marathon this morning despite not running in close to a month, I strolled down the street to my favorite local breakfast place here. I have written about it before and will do so again. Handy’s lunch is the Cheers of local dining establishments. I think I have eaten there three times, every time ordering the Chuck Norris breakfast sandwich and a cup of coffee. The owner came over this time shook my hand, and thanked me for visiting again and for our last conversation when I visited a few months ago. Sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name. It doesn’t hurt that it is one of the best breakfast sandwiches I’ve ever had and I’ve accrued a serious calorie deficit either.

While sitting at the counter watching him interact with the other local, mostly regular customers. One of the men says he grew up in Buffalo. It turns out he is only a few years older than me. He probably played high school football with my step brother. We talked about growing up there and how the city has changed. We talked about high school glory days over carb laden breakfast delicacies.

What is a summer day made of? Optimism, adventure, nature, camaraderie and celebration, in my case obviously some heavy sweating. All of them important and impactful. All of them fleeting.

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