Layover – Serenity Through Sweat

What could go wrong

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. I admittedly got away from writing over the summer, and it is well past time to rectify that.

I used to fly quite a bit with a captain who would always end his briefing by saying, “What could possibly go wrong?”

It was said jokingly, of course, but with an all to telling note of seriousness. There are always things that don’t go to plan, especially when flying airplanes.

There are just too many balls in the air. Too many moving parts. Logistics that can seem insurmountable. And yet, flight after flight, day after day, we find a way to make it work.

We thin1k about and brief the things we think may go wrong, and how we plan to react. We train for processes and procedures for responding to unexpected problems. We maintain an awareness of where we are and where we want to go.

The question, though, is ever present. Nagging, like a fold in the sock under your foot. Just enough to remind you with a slight discomfort every step. “What could possibly go wrong”

I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately, but not as it relates to aviation. That nagging feeling has been with me my entire adult life. I’ve been thinking about the question with my upcoming bike race.

I have spent more than my fair share of time on a bike over the past decade of competing in triathalon, but over the last few years, most of that has been on an indoor trainer.

The indoor trainer is safer and more efficient. It is far more versitle than what I would have access to in my local area in terms of terrain. It allows for precision training without concern for traffic, weather, time of day, and road condition. It solves a lot of potential problems.

I’ve signed up and have been training for the 6 Gap Century ride. The race runs through the north Georgia mountains covering 103 miles with more than 10’000 feet of climbing. Needless to say it will be a long day.

Over the summer, I was able to scout out the course with some friends. We rode about half the course, including two of the biggest climbs.

Leading up to the ride, I had been simulating lots of climbing on my smart trainer, but descending down steep and winding mountain roads, would be another thing entirely.

Six gap scout ride with a special mountain top surprise

What could possibly go wrong?

The scenic highways in north Georgia are beautiful. Winding roads cut into the majestic mountainsides with spectacular vistas. They also feature very little shoulder, impatient drivers, and a small piece of fabricated metal between the edge of the pavement and a very long fall.

I dont think nervous is the right word. I would get nervous as a kid before riding my bike down a big hill. Knowing that soon, the exhileration would push that feeling aside even if there was a chance I could get hurt.

The calculus has changed a bit from those days. It is still just a hill (mountain) and a bike. But I’m not a kid anymore. I don’t recover the way I once did. I have a family to support, bills to pay.

So, without having ridden my bike not on a stationary trainer in more than a year, and on flat ground in FL at that, I set off with my friends for this mountain adventure.

What could possibly go wrong?

Despite some challenging weather and road conditions, nothing went wrong. We all had a great and very memorable day.

But that nagging feeling was still there. All it takes is one mistake. One unforseen problem. You hope that if something happens, it will only be a minor consequence. That isn’t always in your control.

I have continued my training and preparation throughout the summer, rediscovering my love of riding outside. Especially with the new challenging terrain.

I took advantage of some opportunities to train while on long layovers. With those incredible opportunities came added concern. Not just my health, and my family, but now this is an activity with inherent risk while I have an obligation at work.

What could go possibly go wrong?

I had dreams about it. Not nightmares per se, but the thought of crashing my bike while going down a steep hill is something my subconscious likes to remind me of.

So, it was a pleasant surprise, and a welcome change when my thinking shifted.

Flying down highway 50 at 40 miles per hour, with nothing but open road, cresting mountains, and the clear blue waters of lake Tahoe filling up my view, I had to remember to breathe.

In fairness, I frequently have to remember to breathe when descending. My senses are so enhanced and focused knowing that the stakes are raised. But the truly awesome natural beauty took my breath away.

I remember thinking to myself that I needed to snap out of it. To focus on the road. To avoid any myriad of potential mistakes that could prove catastrophic.

And I did snap out of it. But I also started thinking, I know what could go wrong. I’ve thought about it, dreamt about it, worried about it. But what could go right?

That is a much more powerful question. Even a harder one to answer, I think. We are wired to look out for threats. It is a survival mechanism. It takes a freeing of those powerfully ingrained survival instincts to think about what could go right.

There will still be nervous energy and hightened awareness as I approach each mountain crest, knowing the gravity of the potential consequences that lie ahead (figuratively and literally).

But more and more I find myself thinking, what could go right? It is a powerful shift. It just took a little push down a hill to get there.

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

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.

Results

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. This week is want to talk about results. Or, more specifically, a result oriented versus process oriented paradigm.

I recently competed in the IBJJF Pan championships. In the the world of Brazilian Jiu Jitsu in the gi, this is considered a grand slam event.

People travel from all over the world to compete and watch this tournament. It just so happens to take place right in my backyard. It also happens to take place during spring break time when I had time off work.

It seemed silly, given those factors, not to sign up and compete. Even though I knew I would be unable to train and prepare to the full extent I wanted to, I signed up for the competition with high expectations.

Having competed the previous year losing my first match 0-0 via a referee decision, I went into this tournament hoping to improve on my performance but also on my results. Two very distinct categories.

I wasn’t unhappy with my performance from last year, but the results were definitely a gut check. They led to a reassessment of my training and preparation.

This year I signed up for a smaller local competition a month before Pans. I wanted to get a more recent reminder of the competitive atmosphere in my memory than the previous loss at last year’s Pans. I wrote about that tournament here.

Through a freak accident to the wrestling coach at our gym, I ended up taking over teaching the class. This meant not only more reps and training, but also much more time thinking about the wrestling and takedown aspects of BJJ competition.

I also took over teaching the Gi class that I normally attended since that instructor had moved out of the country.

Again, this meant a lot more mental preparation and thinking about techniques, even if the amount of time spent physically training was less than I would have wanted it to be.

I felt good going in to Pans. Mentally strong. Physically strong. I had a solid three plus weeks of very clean eating and living in order to get down to the lightweight limit. A roughly 10 pound drop from my normal walking around weight.

I arrived to the convention center early so I could have a long, low, and slow warmup. Waking up the body and the mind, as much as working out the nervous energy, I jumped right out of my jump rope. After about an hour of watching matches and intermittantly jumping, the set screw gave way, and one of the rope ends flew right out of the handle. It was strangely self gratifying in my ability to outlast the equipment.

I made my way to the weigh in and the fighter holding pen. Mutch different from my wrestling days, weigh-ins are immediately prior to your match as opposed to first thing in the morning. The fighter pen is a small cattle herd of metal barricades, keeping in the nervous energy and testosterone, jittering bouncing and going over final preparations for the combat ahead.

I felt the anxiety of the impending competition. Those familiar butterflies in my stomach, even after all the years of grappling. If that feeling is no longer present, I will have to rethink further competition.

Like I have done before every wrestling or BJJ match I can remember, I started my final warmup with an our father prayer. I followed that with my own prayer to wrestle 6 minutes hard. 6 minutes strong. 6 minutes smart. 6 minutes safe. To have a performance that I can be proud of, and that my family can be proud of. To be gracious in victory or defeat. To keep myself and my competitors free from injury.

My name was called along with my opponent for the first match. We shook hands and hugged before walking to the mats.

I bounced and stretched at the mats edge, trying to clear my mind, creating a blank canvas for the match ahead.

I’ve written before about the special place that competitive athletic endeavors have for me. Like walking through a portal, I feel transported. Stepping onto the mat, for those five minutes, (high-school wrestling matches are six and my prayer has not been updated, better to err on the long side anyway) everything else fades away. The canvas is blank to create a piece of art and tell a story, together with my opponent, without any of our other baggage.

We stood wrestling for the first two minutes or so of the match. I felt I had the upper hand with takedowns and pressed my advantage. After a few near takedowns, I saw my opponent gasp for a deep breath and change his stance and posture. I knew my next shot would be successful.

After scoring the takedown, I followed my game plan and won the match on top, threatening to pass his guard and attack his left arm. The match went about as well as I could have hoped for and I advanced to the quarter finals.

I had plenty of time to catch my breath, stretch, and recover before being called up for my next match. Again, I shook hands and hugged my opponent before walking from the pen to the mats.

Already in a better spot than I was the previous year, I knew winning this match would see me on the podium. That was the goal I had set for this competition, make the podium.

The match started similar to the first. We wrestled standing for a minute or so were I felt I had an advantage. My opponent recognized this and pulled guard.

We ended up in his 50/50 guard, a leg entanglement where our respective right legs are interlaced, knees to knee with him laying on his back and me standing.

It is a difficult position to get out of, and comes with the risk of an easy transition from bottom to top. That would give my opponent 2 points for a sweep and in all likelihood a deficit that would be hard to overcome.

I pressed forward, testing the flexibility of his hip and the strength of his lock on the other leg. With enough pressure I could break the lock and potentially attack the knee. I had to be careful to keep my balance, falling backward even if i stayed on top could give my opponent and advantage point that would be hard to overcome.

At one point, I was able to break the lock of his legs and press forward. He recovered, but i felt i was making progress. Before I knew it, the match was over.

0-0 no advantage points given. Under the circumstances, the match would be decided by the referee. My opponent won the referee’s decision.

To say I was disappointed by the results would be an understatement. It is hard to walk away with a loss, without feeling like you were beaten. It is a confusing mental space.

In contrast, I was happy with my performance. I was aggressive. I didn’t make any tactical or strategic mistakes. Every position I found myself in, I had a clear mental path forward. I was gracious in victory and in defeat.

I’m still not sure how to process the outcome. It isn’t a win, but it doesn’t feel like a loss either. Complaining isn’t helpful, nor is beating myself up or second guessing my performance. There are always areas to improve upon, but there was no glaring hole in my game that was exposed by those two matches.

I’m trying instead to shift focus away from the result, and back to the process. I have much more control over the latter than the former.

Focusing on the process is something I can change. I can take the frustration over the results and direct it somewhere positive. There are levers that can be pulled and dials that can be turned. The results, are what they are, and revisiting them is unproductive.

A cold damp run on a Toronto layover. The hairdryer I used to dry out my shoes afterward turned one of the insoles into a shrinky-dink

I can continue to work on my wrestling in the gi, not giving my opponents the chance to pull guard, or forcing them to do so from a place of weakness.

I can continue to develop a style that is aggressive and attacking. I can work to improve positions where I find myself stuck. I can find additional time to train, and prioritize bjj as i approach competitions in the future.

I’m disappointed with the results, but I’m content with my preparation and performance. Resetting my focus back to the process has brought some much needed serenity in the face of uncertainty over those results.

Some higher intintervals and some weight management rides

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

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.

A team

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

This week is a little different. It is more of a writing exercise than an informative post.

While spending a lot of time in the car with the little ones, I had to switch up my Pandora radio stations a little bit.

Tacos after Speedy came with me to Jui Jitsu

At 5 and 3, El Duderino and Speedy will soon be ready for the gospel of Wu Tang, and the back country twang and blues of Tyler Childers. But, for now, those are lessons best saved for another day.

So, as I found some more age appropriate jams that were still in my wheelhouse I stumbled across this song from Ed Sheeran.

Here is a link to the YouTube video, as it is worth a listen before you continue on with the rest of the post.

I really love the way Sheeran communicates his story with incomplete sentences. Two word snippets that paint an incredibly vivid picture. All done in a rhythmic and rhyming prose that suits his strumming and falsetto.

The words and the melody make you feel something. That is incredibly powerful, and only compounded by the fact that it is done with such an economy of words.

It seemed like a fun idea. Can you distill your feelings and a story into small two word snippets? Make them fit into Ed’s style of prosidy? I thought I would give it a try.

Below are two verses of my A-team rendition. One verse about flying and one about triathlon.

Hotels, new place, dont forget a brave face, try to sleep, and re trace.

Find food, work out, kids at home to think about, rain storms, self doubt.

And they say, he’s a little bit crazy. Stuck in his daydream, been this way since eighteen, but lately. His patience, is slowly sinking, wasting, crumbling like pastries, and they scream, the best things in life come free to us.

Cause we’re just under the management, and go mad just to pay the rent. We don’t wanna be away from home tonight. But we love the way that we pay the bills, and can’t easily transfer our skills. It’s a tightrope walk each night, for all those that fly.

Legs burn, dry throat, another lap to stay afloat, wheels turn, bike home

Run some, feet sore, training can feel like a chore, calm mind, worth more.

And they say he’s a little bit crazy, stuck in his daydream, been this way since eighteen, but lately, his patience is slowly sinking, wasting, crumbling like pastries, and they scream, the best things in life come free to us.

Cause we’re just under the training plan, no matter how much we already ran, and we just want to rest tonight. And in the morning we ride to another jam, transport to another land. Mental clarity is worth the price, for a few more miles tonight.

I had a lot of fun with this post. Trying to find the words and the rhyming pattern for complex thoughts was an interesting exercise. Parsing them down into two word snippets forces you to assign value to your thoughts.

What is most important to you? How do you convey that to the reader in two word snippets? Does the whole say more than the sum of the parts?

Economy and value are often at odds with each other. If you are forced to truncate your ideas, the quality of the message can suffer. But, when it doesn’t, it feels like that much more significant of an accomplishment in communication.

Running mountains on one of my favorite layovers, Roanoke Va

I think that is the true beauty behind A team. I think there is a lot to be gained from distilling our thoughts down to their most elemental levels.

I hope you enjoyed my own rendition. 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.

Wandering

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. I was listening to the Huberman Lab podcast on meditation, and he referenced an interesting 2010 study out of Harvard that I thought was worth sharing.

“A wandering mind is an unhappy mind” by Matt Killingsworth and Daniel Gilbert details their study into happiness and day dreaming.

This weekend I’ll be racing in the Gulf Coast Ironman 70.3 event, and I was particularly interested in this study and its interplay with endurance sports.

A quick stop in Murphy and a trail run at lake nottley before work

The Harvard based researchers designed a web app and recruited participants to self report their levels of happiness and what they were thinking about.

Participants were prompted to use the web app at randomly assigned times during their waking hours. They were asked what they were currently doing, how happy they were on a 0-100 sliding scale, and what they were thinking about with four options.

Participants could report thinking about; what they were doing currently, something else positive, something else neutral, or something else negative.

Taper week training run through the Bellevue botanical garden

Participants would be surveyed 1-3 times daily until they opted out, which resulted in a significant data set. The researchers made sure to vary their participants across age ranges (18-88), gender, countries, and occupation.

The results showed some interesting insights into the human mind and happiness. What participants were thinking about turned out to be a significantly better predictor of happiness than the activities themselves.

In other words, being present in the moment, thinking about what it is you are currently doing, will likely make you happier than letting your mind wander to something else, even something pleasant.

Taper week training on a multi day Seattle layover

“multilevel regression revealed that people were less happy when their minds were wandering than when they were not, and this was true during all activities including the least enjoyable. Although people’s minds were more likely to wander to pleasant topics (42.5% of samples) than to unpleasant topics (26.5% of samples) or neutral topics (31% of samples), people were no happier when thinking about pleasant topics than about their current activity, and were considerably unhappier when thinking about neutral topics or unpleasant topics than about their current activity (Fig. 1, bottom). Although negative moods are known to cause mind wandering, time-lag analyses strongly suggested that mind wandering in our sample was generally the cause, and not merely the consequence, of unhappiness.”

“In conclusion, a human mind is a wandering mind, and a wandering mind is an unhappy mind. The ability to think about what is not happening is a cognitive achievement that comes at an emotional cost.”

Enduring anything is as much a mental/emotional battle as it is a physical one. While covering the 1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike ride, and 13.1 mile half marathon, there will be plenty of time for my mind to wander.

Sometimes that mind wandering is helpful and even desired. There is a unique state of clarity and creativity that becomes available with extended physical exertion and an empty mind that is free to wander.

Other times it is important to center yourself on the task at hand, even if (or especially if), it is unpleasant. I’m reminded of the acid burn scene from fight club.

Edward Norton’s character wants to go to his cave and find his power animal. Brad Pitt’s character slaps him to bring him back to the present moment.

“This is your burning hand, it’s right here. Don’t deal with it like those dead people do, Come On! What you’re feeling is premature enlightenment. This is the greatest moment of your life and your off somewhere missing it.”

“A cognitive achievement with an emotional cost” is an extremely astute observation with some very powerful ramifications. Being able to dissociate from difficulty is a valuable survival mechanism. But being present, feeling that pain and difficulty, is the best way to learn. It is a tightrope walk for sure, but one worth walking.

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.