Fatherhood – Serenity Through Sweat

Rules

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. I’m working my way through the second book in the Wheel of Time series and wanted to share a quote that I found particularly appropriate for Father’s Day.

I was first introduced to the Wheel of Time when my wife and I watched it on Amazon Prime last summer.

After we put the boys to bed, we would wade through the magical world that Robert Jordan created one episode at a time.

A broken world, doomed to repeat itself, cycle after cycle as the “wheel” turns each age. The only inhabitants of this magical realm who seem able to exert any control over the fate the wheel has laid out for them are the Aes Sedai.

The Aes Sedai are a group of women able to channel the magic of the “one power” to do incredible things.

The Aes Sedai are split into factions (ajahs) denoted by their color. Each faction slightly different in their methodology, beliefs, and purpose.

Each Aes Sedai has a male guardian, a warder, assigned to her. They are bonded to each other till death. The relationships are complicated, and while they are reciprocal in many ways, the warders are subordinate.

In ages past, there were male Aes Sedai who could also wield the one power. Theirs was slightly different than that wielded by the women.

Opposite powers but complimentary, male and female, yin and yang. But at some point ages ago, the male side screwed it up and broke the world. Now, the women are left with the pieces, trying to hold it all together.

The Aes Sedai of the red ajah do not have male warders. Their mission is to root out men who may try to channel the one power.

One of my favorite layover runs in Roanoke

Any man who tries to wield the one power will cause chaos and destruction. Reaching out to the source of the one power will, in time, drive a man to madness.

The women of the red ajah find these men and “gentle” them. Cutting off their ability to touch the source so that they won’t cause any harm. The men still end up going mad.

Some Aes Sedai, particularly of the blue ajah, believe in a profecy of the dragon reborn. A man who will be able to channel the one power and will restore the world from it’s broken state and win the eternal battle against the dark one.

This was the back story given in the Amazon Prime show and tracks fairly well with the books.

Beautiful day for some miles on my Traverse city layover

The world created by Jordan and the characters that populate it are rich and enticing.

Both the books, and especially the show, have a significant feminine lean. Men break the world. Men cannot control the one power. Women are the saviors. “Gentling” bears a striking resemblance to castration. I was worried this would put me off, but i was pleasantly surprised.

The warders seem to be excellent male role models. The main characters who are male while still defering to the Aes Sedai, are anything but subordinate.

Lan, one of the warders, is training Rand, a simple sheep herder but also the dragon reborn, in swordsmanship. The scene has them practicing atop a castle tower, with the warder getting the best of the sheep herder and talking to him about the challenges that lie ahead of him.

“There is one rule, above all others, for being a man. Whatever comes, face it on your feet. “

The scene came right at the end of the chapter, and it just hit me a special kind of way.

Maybe it was that I wasn’t expecting much in the way of masculine advice based on my experience thus far with the show and the first book.

Maybe it was the elegance and simplicity of the statement and the stoic and thoughtful nature of the character it was coming from.

Maybe it was the added irony from my time in Jui Jistu, where I face obstacles sitting on my butt or laying on my back.

Whatever it was, the scene, the quote, the moment created in the story, it felt significant. It resonated with me beyond just a story in a book.

The past few months have come with no shortage of challenges. I haven’t always risen to them in the way I would like. But I haven’t run from them either.

Some of my proudest moments, after the happy events of life and the triumphs and successes, have been some of my failures.

Not because of the failures themselves, but because of the way I was able to face the failure. To own it. To feel it. To grow out of it and through it.

Just like a triathlon, you put one foot in front of the other and keep going. Sitting down doesn’t get you any closer to the finish line, and there is no one coming to get you.

I wrote in this post about The Martian. You solve one problem, then the next, if you solve enough problems, you get to go home.

I think that is what Lan is trying to say. You don’t take whatever life throws at you lying down. Stay on your feet, nimble, agile, ready to adjust course. If nothing else, you go down swinging.

It’s easy to feel helpless. It’s easy to feel like you are steering into uncharted waters with strange currents. It’s easy to feel ineffective.

I hope that I can show my boys the alternative. Demonstrate for them Lan’s first rule of manhood. Cultivate in them, the attitude and ability to face the many challenges of life on their feet.

Find your footing, dig in your heels, put on a brave face for what may come. There is surely serenity in taking charge of your own destiny.

Lots of miles getting ready to ride in the mountains

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

Mistakes

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. In the last few months, I’ve been reading more about investing (as well as watching old seasons of ‘billions’ on Prime video), and I wanted to share something that stuck out to me.

I came across this quote from Warren Buffet from his 2023 Berkshire Hathaway investor meeting. It reminded me of advice that my mom has been giving me for the last three decades.

“Thanks to the American tailwind and the power of compound interest, the arena in which we operate has been – and will be – rewarding if you make a couple of good decisions during a lifetime and avoid serious mistakes.”

From the investing standpoint, you want to maximize your upside potential, while also minimizing your downside risk. The problem is, those two things are often not possible simultaneously. Generally speaking, in order to have a large potential, the risk is inherently greater.

Making a mistake in that risk/reward equation, or in the way you evaluate an investment, will have monetary consequences. If you can learn to impartially evaluate those mistakes, to make sure they are small mistakes, not life changing ones, there are incredible lessons to be found.

If you can learn from those lessons and at the same time avoid the big mistakes, you are probably going to pretty well for yourself. In investing and in life.

Mistake in this context casts a very wide net. It can be moving your body incorrectly, and having a jui jitsu move not work. It can also be moving your body incorrectly, having a jui jitsu move not work while also tearing your knee apart. The tricky part about a lot of mistakes, is that it is hard to fully comprehend the potential outcomes before you are already committed.

Mistakes are an interesting subject. They are a critical part of the learning curve. Our brain needs to understand the wrong way to do something (the mistake) in order to properly wire in the correct process. Small mistakes create neuroplasticity and learning.

As long as those mistakes are not catastrophic, they are an important part of the process. (Doing the BJJ move wrong 5 times before getting it right the 6th, while avoiding that whole tearing your knee apart thing)

But what about mistakes of omission, or mistakes of substitution? What we’ve talked about so far is investing in the wrong company or moving our body in the wrong way. What about things we opt not to do, or things we should do that are replaced with so thing else?

We all know we should eat healthy and move more. Skipping your morning workout or walk and replacing it with idle scrolling would hardly be a “serious mistake” in the sense that Buffet or my mother cautioned about.

That kind of choice, (replacing healthy movement with idle screen time) certainly wouldn’t have the catastrophic effect of tearing apart your knee or drastically altering your family finances.

But, what happens when that small mistake becomes a habit. When momentum shifts from healthy choices to frivolous ones.

I’ll admit I’ve felt a bit stuck in this loop. Building momentum in healthy habits, only to falter back into less productive choices. What is the cost of these mistakes? Are there enough good choices and tailwind to stay ahead of the consequences?

The magic of compounding is dispassionate and directionless. It can work for you just as easily as it can work against you. How long before those small mistakes compound into a serious one?

Most small mistakes, especially in a first world country, are relatively harmless. They are also easily dismissed, and almost mindless. It is precisely these qualities that make them so dangerous. You ingest the poison without any immediate or significant consequence. By the time the dosage has built up it is too late.

As I write this on my phone, I know that the same device is a large source of my small mistakes. Rushing back for innocent seeming dopamine hits, while neglecting the things that truly matter.

Worse still, my limited ability to recognize this mistake. My occasional stumblings into a more mindful existence, leave me feeling ashamed and guilty rather than refreshed and relieved.

I know that this is a natural human tendency to focus on the negative over the positive. To be ashamed of the mistake rather than celebrate the recognition and correction of it. Again, a loop I am often stuck in.

But that’s the battle right. To identify those mistakes. To fight in order to shift the focus from the guilt to the mindful acceptance. To take advantage of the compounding and the tailwinds on good habits.

Avoid the big mistakes. Cut off the loop on the small ones. Establish habits that can take advantage of the magic of compounding. And, maybe find some serenity in the process.

Lots of elevation getting ready for 6gap

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

Fear

“I must not fear

Fear is the mind killer

Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration

I will face my fear

I will permit it to pass over me and through me

And when it has gone past, I will turn the inner eye to see its path.

Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.

Only I will remain.”

This is “The litany against fear” from Frank Herbert’s Dune. If you watched the recent movie, you hear Paul Atriedes (played by Timothy Chamelet) recite it.

It was taught to him by his mother, the Lady Jessica. A member of the Bene Gesserit, lady Jessica has total control over every muscle in her body, down to facial reactions. She can influence and control others through the use of voice (sort of a Jedi mind control). She has access to all the memories and opinions of all of her ancestors and her fellow Bene Gesserit ancestors. She has a significant portion of human history at her immediate disposal.

Despite these awesome powers, the Lady Jessica finds herself in need of this most basic Bene Gesserit teaching (the litany against fear) frequently throughout the story.

She teaches these skills as well as the litany to her son (which is forbidden knowledge for males). They live in dangerous times.

I had to go searching for the exact quote. I remembered reading it. I recalled the general message, but the actual words have a powerful calming essence. As they are supposed to.

I could feel the fear welling up inside of me. I could sense that it was enough to take over. I would be able to contain it temporarily, but not stop it.

I had to find a safe place to permit the fear to pass over me and through me. This isn’t how I expected my Wednesday afternoon to go.

El duderino had been showing signs of near sightedness. I needed glasses at his age and wear them now. He probably would as well. It is exceedingly difficult to escape the gravity of your genetics.

We asked the pediatrician at his normal check-up to evaluate his eyes. They used what looked like a cell phone camera to take a picture and said he was good to go. I remained unconvinced but temporarily placated.

I’ve started my morning the last few weeks with a cold plunge. Working my way down now to 46°

As his vision deficiency became increasingly evident, we decided to schedule an appointment with a pediatric ophthalmologist.

The standard methods of testing eye sight have been the butt of many a joke over the years. Better 1, or better 2? Is this more blurry, or less blurry?

These methods seem even more humorous when applied to si eone whi is still learning their numbers and letter, (and cant see well).

I think the book containing the color blind texts was older than I was. Its pavés frayed and tattered. It looked like something from a museum display rather than a tools at a cutting edge medical facility

Congratulations to the happy couple. My second wedding of the month on a layover

I watched proudly as 5 year old El duderino squinted and squirmed his was through the exam. Just knowing the letter and number, and his ability to articulate throughout the process was impressive, even when he was wrong.

And he was wrong a lot. Some of it was age and knowledge, but a lot of it was clearly eye sight. Again, I had glasses at his age and expected him to need them as well.

So I was shocked when at the end of the exam the doctor said glasses wouldn’t help him.

The doctor told me, in a very matter of fact tone, that El duderino had cataracts and would need surgery on both eyes.

El duderino happy as clam playing superheroes

I’m not sure I fully understood what he was saying. But after having to wrestle him like an alligator just to get in the dilation eye drops, I knew that multiple eye surgeries were going to be a hurdle.

That meant anesthesia. That meant multiple procedures. What were the complications? What were the risks? He’s only five year old, what a shitty hand to be dealt.

I don’t approach most things in my life in terms of fear, but in terms of risk. Risk can be mitigated. Risk can be assessed. Risk can be managed. Risk is never fully removed, but it can be weighed and measured against the potential rewards.

Some layover training getting ready for the last triathlon of the season

I didn’t see this situation as a risk, I only saw fear. I felt my complete and utter inability to change the situation, to protect my first born, to prevent any pain that may come.

There was no assessment, no mitigation, there was only fear. I tried not to spiral in the office. I tried to be present and ask questions of the doctor. I scheduled the follow up appointment and tried to put on a brave face for El duderino.

Thankfully, in spite of how smart he is, he either didn’t hear or didn’t understand the exchange we were having right in front of him.

I found the litany on my phone in the parking lot. I recited it a few times and took some deep breaths. We still had a 45-minute drive through rush hour traffic on I4 (the worst road in the country for accidents) in order to get home.

El duderino was none the wiser, and happy that we were out of the office and his dilated eyes were returning to normal. I called my wife and told her I would fill her in on the appointment when I got home, but that I would need a few minutes.

I set a ten minute timer for myself. Then, I sat quietly in my closet and cried.

One of the reasons I am particularly drawn to the litany, is that it gives you power over fear but doesn’t tell you to fight it or ignore it.

Feel your emotion, don’t fight it or hide from it, but rather, allow it to pass over you and through you.

Fear cannot be managed, or mitigated, or assessed. It is an overwhelming and irrational emotion. But it can pass over you and through you, and you can remain.

One more day up in the canyon. Putting in miles in salt lake city

I don’t know how El Duderino’s diagnosis and treatment will play out. I am still afraid. I am comforted by the words in, and the ideas behind the litany. I am trying to see the situation as a set of risks, rather than something to be feared. Even if my ability to manipulate those risks is minimal.

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

Formidability

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. I found this study scrolling through my news feed and wanted to share and reflect on it with you.

It seems like there has been a recent push in our culture to think about gender and gender norms. Maybe that is the Baader-Meinhoff phenomenon (the topic of next week’s post). Or maybe it is a genuine societal interest.

Since becoming a father to two boys, it is something I think about in the context of explaining masculinity to them. What does it mean to be a man? Is there even a good working definition.

The study by Mitch Brown and Ryan Tracy was titled “Preliminary evidence for neck musculature in shaping functional stereotypes of men’s relationship motives” the article covering the study was titled “Men’s neck musculature informs perceptions of parental abilities and interest in long-term relationships”

The researchers sought to find out how men with muscular necks are perceived as compared to their less muscular counterparts.

Matt brown said, “I became interested in this particular topic in two ways. First, I had a growing interest in the signal value of men’s formidability and how it shapes perceptions of their social value. With a growing understanding of parental motivational systems, I thought it would be pertinent to understand the possible tradeoffs associated with formidability that we see in other domains, particularly related to the protection of offspring at the expense of nurturance,”

He also said, “For neck musculature, I became interested in the topic both after seeing data from Neil Caton about the evolutionary value of neck musculature and some of my own me-search. I’m a former wrestler who has tried to have a beefy neck my whole life!”

As a nerd who reads and blogs about scientific papers, a fellow grappler with a beefy neck, and a father who is looking to teach his sons about perceptions of masculinity, this study checks all the boxes.

The researchers presented a series of images to a group of college students from a university in the south eastern United States.

The images were all of the same man, but, were digitally altered to vary the size of the trapezius muscles. This minimized variables, which may otherwise confound the participants perceptions.

Participants were asked to rate their perceptions of the men (varying i.ages of the same man) on fighting ability, interest in long-term vs. short-term mating, and effectiveness at protecting and nurturing offspring.

Men, or the computer enhanced version of this particular man, were perceived as better protectors and more interested in short-term term mating the larger and more muscular their neck was.

The counterparts with the smaller trapezii (I don’t know why, but I really like that word) were perceived as more nurturing and long-term mating partners.

Brown again, “Men’s neck musculature is informative in shaping perceptions of men in terms of their relationship preferences, Namely, large trapezius muscles connote greater interest to perceivers in promiscuous mating strategies and a disinterest in the conventions of biparental investment (e.g., monogamy, offspring nurturance).”

The study seems to have been well carried out. There are no glaring flaws in the methodology, the data analysis, or the conclusions.

This was a study focused on perception. I like to think that with a few exceptions, perception is reality. But, like the top button of my work shirt clamped around my beefy wrestler neck, those perceptions chafe a little.

The size of the trapezius muscle was used as a metric for formidability. The researchers’ previous work showed an inverse relationship between perceptions of protection versus nurturing offspring with changes in perceived formidability.

It has been a stereotypical and archetypal role for males to be protectors. There are obvious exceptions to that rule, but biological sex differences make that an easy principle to understand.

I would argue that nurturing falls under that role. Without nurturing, your children will never be able to protect themselves. Isn’t that the ultimate form of protection we want to provide? To teach them to do the job and pass it on to their kids after we are gone.

These are obviously stereotypes and perceptions. The best way to change them, is to confront them head on. To be the nurturing dad with the beefy neck.

Collecting jerseys on this round of zwift

I wrote a piece a while back that I think talked about formidability in a round about way. “In order to be peaceful you must be capable of violence. If you are incapable of violence, you aren’t peaceful, you are harmless”

I think for both mental and physical well-being, being peaceful is essential. That would mean being capable of violence is essential. Wrestling and Brazilian Jiu Jitsu are my outlets for violence.

The word has such a negative connotation, but thought of in the context of formidability, protection of offspring, and a necessity for peace reframes it nicely, I think.

I don’t want to be in a cultural discussion about gender norms. Rather, I want to be an example. For my boys, for their friends, for the other parents in our social circle.

Musculature (around the trapezii or otherwise) and being a good father are not mutually exclusive. Perceptions may be reality, but they can be changed, one sweaty, beefy, good natured parenting neck at a time.

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.

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.

Boys

Boys will be boys as the saying goes. This is something that has been at the back of my mind for a long time. Something I have been, and probably still am, unable to effectively articulate. But, the right combination of calorie deficit, morning cardio, bourbon, and this CNN article led me to a state where I wanted to write about it.

I was so hopeful clicking on the article. After all this is something that has been on my mind well before I became a father to two beautiful boys.

I remember standing up in an auditorium my freshman year in college. Arguing with my professor Infront of 50 or 60 strangers that men were capable of being caregivers. Capable of being single caregiver’s at that. That attitudes to the contrary were equally detrimental to the expectations placed on women and men alike.

We agreed to disagree.

My wife and I had a similar argument after a Florence and the machine concert. When Florence took the time in between songs to disparage toxic masculinity I shook my head in disgust. Everyone is entitled to their opinion. My point to my wife, (and to Florence if she is so Inclined to read) and my contention here, if men shouldn’t have a voice in women’s issues, where does Florence get off talking about toxic masculinity?

I digress.

This article had some aspects that were reassuring. “If you come at anyone with a list of everything they do wrong, they are going to get defensive and angry.”

But the article titled “talking to boys about being a boy” took a wrong turn around Albuquerque and turned into “Tell your boys they are not bad simply because they are male. Tell them they can be a part of the movement towards gender equality, and it isn’t just something for girls to talk about it,”

El Duderino and Speedy have no concept of male being “bad” or “toxic”, but they are very aware that they are little boys. Why would my conversation with them about masculinity have to start out with an assertion and proof of a concept that is inherently flawed?

The article had it’s merits. Chief amongst them the admission of the author regarding conversations with her young sons “We never once spoke directly about masculinity or dug into what it means to be a boy or a man.
A big reason for this failure was inadequate vocabulary.”

The article then touts responsibilities and expectations placed on boys, mostly centered around gender equality and inclusivity. These are admirable things and deserve their own discussion. Neither are exclusive to boys. Neither have anything to do with being a boy. One could argue they are the responsibility of a good citizen of the universe, regardless of gender.

I think my biggest problem with the article, (after a nights reflection, I was a little heated when I read it last night) is the title. Call the article “talking to young men about inclusion and equality” and I’m on board. When you call it “talking to boys about being a boy” and then spend very little time or effort to developing that inadequate vocabulary, we are gonna butt heads.

“Aspirational masculinity”, the term coined by Don McPherson, is referenced in the article to help combat the inadequate vocabulary. “a way to engage with men in “a positive and deliberate examination of male identity and the relationships and behaviors of and between men,”

This sounds good. And without having heard McPherson speak I’m sure he has a lot of wonderful things to say on the topic. For the purpose of the CNN article I found it vague and underwhelming. The vocabulary is still very much lacking.

This is one of the questions I have talked about regularly on the blog. One I struggle with and one I am passionate about. When Speedy or El Duderino ask me what it means to be a man I’m not sure how that conversation will go.

While the necessary vocabulary is still lacking I assure you my response will not include “toxic”. There is a necessary time and place in the world for almost every trait that falls under the umbrella of “toxic masculinity”. Aggression, competitiveness, self reliance, and emotional repression. All of these can be beneficial tools.

We’ve previously discussed tools and words on the blog. Having the right one for the job is important. Having improper or inadequate tools makes the task at hand harder. It seems to me that the most well developed boys will have the biggest tool boxes. (Not just a clever ploy to get my wife to sign off on me buying more tools) That includes those tools that some would call toxic, so long as they are used only for the appropriate job.

Talking to boys about being boys, becomes a conversation about expanding the toolbox. What tools are available and when to use them. The fact that not everyone’s toolbox will be the same. That individual skill and precision with a given tool will vary from person to person.

Somehow (for the third or fourth time on the blog) I’m reminded of the toolbox my father gave me as Christmas gift when I was too young to appreciate it. I still have that toolbox. Along with a physical/mental/emotional toolbox that has been crafted and curated by both of my parents and so many other wonderful mentors, coaches, and friends. Full of the tools that I hope to pass on to my boys.

Run. Layover miles in Burlington and Lexington

Most of this was written a week ago and sometimes life gets in the way of this pet project of mine. Still it seems this is as fitting a Father’s Day post as any. Happy Father’s day to all the dad’s out there helping the next generation of boys be the best boys they can be.

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

Prediction

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. I spent the past week traveling with my family and then recovering from a stomach bug and it got me thinking about predictions.

One of the things that sets humans apart from the rest of the animals in this planet is our ability to aggregate, analyze, and utilize data in a forward looking manner. This is easy to take for granted in modern days when constant data access is only as far away as our pockets. Our primal ancestors required a much more conscious approach.

It gets cold for part of the year and there is no food, better stockpile. I get sick after eating from that plant, better tell the rest of the tribe. I got better after drinking tea from those leaves, I’ll do it next time I don’t feel good.

Still for all of our data driven decisions, we are terrible predictors of outcome. Especially when it comes to discomfort. We are inclined to think that the status quo will remain intact, despite what are often glaring signs to the contrary.

On the flight back to Orlando El Duderino was playing with the tray table after we had gotten the “tray tables stowed and seatbacks in the upright and locked position” schpeel. I told him to stop playing with it, and he obliged until after we had landed.

To his credit I told him we couldn’t play with because we were landing. Once we had landed, this edict no longer applied. Despite my frustration, I’m impressed with his reasoning and precise interpretation of language. Words are important as I often say, but I digress.

When it was our turn to exit the plane he was still playing with the tray table only now he got his pinky good and pinched in it. Getting it out meant pinching it even more before the table would release.

I carried a screaming 45lb toddler through the aisle and up the jet bridge and tried to calm him down in the terminal. When I told him I knew it hurt but it would feel better soon his response was, “it’s never going to feel better”.

He is 4 and lacks the kind of life experience and emotional maturity to appreciate healing, pain, recovery, and perception in general. At the same time I think about my own feelings that often mirror his.

Ultra Runner Zach Bitter answered listener questions on the episode of the Human Performance Outliers podcast I was catching up on last week. One of the questions was about perception of effort and discomfort throughout an ultra or other endurance event.

I’ll paraphrase his answer as something like “Perceived effort/discomfort in an endurance race does not follow a linear progression. This may seem counter intuitive, but it is essential to both understand and actively remind oneself thought training and race day.”

If you hit a rough spot at mile 14 in a marathon, it doesn’t mean that every mile after it will get progressively worse. Understanding this intellectually is one thing. Being able to recall it and apply it on race day, with all of the hormones, emotions, and self inflicted suffering, is quite another.

Looking at a workout plan with a number of sprints or a large mountain can be intimidating. Reminding yourself that this feeling is a temporary stressor. One designed to promote growth. After the fourth sprint rep or half way up the climb, can be more challenging than the physical exertion itself.

This is one of the primary goals of mindfulness. Being present in the moment and assessing it without projecting it into the future. Your legs and lungs may well be burning, but that is not their fate forever.

I think Ray Liota said in best in the movie Blow, “Sometimes you’re flush, and sometimes your bust. When your 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.”

El Duderino’s finger is fine. My legs and lungs have already moved on from the workout an hour ago, much less any of the thousands of miles before that one. Our prediction of effort and discomfort may be sorely lacking. But, life goes on, and serenity can still be found.

A shorter workout week with home renovation and travel

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

A Thousand Ones

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. This week I was listening to Joe Rogan conversation with General H.R. McMaster and he made a comment that reminded me of something an old boss used to tell me

While describing the recent US military withdrawal frome Afghanistan, McMaster posited the question, “did we fight a twenty year war, or did we fight a one year war, twenty times?”

My old boss, a man who is largely responsible for my professional and career development, used to ask, “Do you have one thousand hours, or one hour, a thousand times?”

The things you learn in those thousand hours

The thought being, there are components of experience, familiarization, and competence that are gained with the accumulation of hours. But that accumulation only takes place if you learn the lessons rather than repeat the same processes of your first time. In other words, have you grown and progressed?

This seems like it should be a given. If you have flown an airplane for a thousand hours there is bound to be some growth and learning. If you have fought a war for twenty years you should have picked up a thing or two.

Learning is hard. Growth is not automatic. The human condition often defaults to the path of least resistance. This is how you end up with “one hour, a thousand times” without some of the requisite lessons learned.

Sure that might be something of an exaggeration, but the concept is there. That’s one of the primary reasons why we have assessments. Every child in a classroom receives the same number of hours of content, but they are assessed to measure their growth and proficiency.

Pilots have intermediate assessments (stage checks) and check rides. There are defined minimum hour criteria to be eligible for a check ride. The check ride itself is a way of verifying that you have accumulated the skill and mastery of those combined hours. Rather than merely repeating the same hour over and over.

This was something I struggled with in the beginning of my professional aviation career. I was a great student in the classroom, and in the airplane. When told what was important, I could immerse myself and learn. The professional world is not always so cut and dry. There is a reason academics tend to stay in academia.

If you are fortunate, someone in the professional world will take you under their wing (aviation pun intended). They can help you sort through what is critical. What to focus on. Push you to grow.

Without that kind of mentorship. That professional nurturing. You are left to your own devices to accumulate knowledge and experience. The risk of repeating your solitary hour grows.

Daddy made it home and he brought treats

I see that lesson more clearly now as a father. My boys need to “build their hours”. But, I can be there to guide them. Making sure their hours accumulate rather than simply repeat.

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