Peleton – Serenity Through Sweat

Exposure

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. This week I’m reflecting on my 35th birthday. How I feel. How I’ve grown. What type of man I have become and what type of man I want to be.

Listening to Zach Bitter and Aaron Alexander on the Human Performance Outliers podcast, Aaron said something that made me reflect on my last decade.

Zach is very literally a human performance outlier as an ultra marathoner, and Aaron is a movement coach and author of the Align Method. Their conversation covered wellness topic such as mobility, training, breathing, and mindset.

Whenever you wade into the world of endurance sports, the somewhat unanswered, elephant in the room question, is that of longevity and vitality. What are the long term costs of pushing performance? What is the cost of being an outlier? Specifically on your long-term health and wellness.

Looking back, I have pushed myself pretty hard in the last decade. And not just physically. The volume of miles from triathlon training alone is staggering. Jiu jitsu, despite being the gentle art, takes it’s toll on the body. I’ve finished a graduate degree. Changed jobs twice. Found a partner and started a family. Just in the past few years I’ve cultivated new hobbies and habits.

I feel better now than I did at 25. I walk around at a lower weight than I did at the starting line of IronMan FL in 2013. (Which I hope is the lifetime peak of my training volume). I prioritize sleep and nutrition in a way that I was uneducated about a decade ago. I have more balls in the air now and struggle with balance, but find myself better equipped for that struggle.

Despite all of that, the question remains, am I burning the candle at both ends? Will this impact my longevity and vitality? My healthspan?

Aaron said something that I found incredibly reassuring. “your body adapts to what it is exposed to, even if that is nothing”

If you are exposed to nothing, your body will adapt to that as it’s default. The smallest offset can then be momentous. On the other end of the spectrum, if you vary and amplify your exposure, your body adapts. Your level of resilience is directly correlated to your level of exposure.

There are some obvious caveats. My days of thinking “I’ll sleep when I’m dead” are long gone. Lower intensity work, mobility, and less “demanding” practices like meditation and breath work are a critical part of my routine now. Not every session can be a grip it and rip it sweat fest.

El Duderino and Speedy playing in the water

Beyond what I expose my body to in search of positive adaptation, my boys become exposed to fair portion of it is well. They are always watching and listening. Being exposed to someone pushing themself. To someone who struggles, falters, and ultimately grows. I can only surmise what lens they see me through but I hope that the exposure is beneficial.

I’m grateful for all of the beauty, challenge, pain, and struggle that I have been exposed to. I’m grateful for all the ways my body has adapted over the last decade. I hope for continued exposure to push my adaptation. I hope that I find the appropriate level of exposure for my boys as well. In some dynamic interplay of exposure and adaptation, I hope to find serenity.

Zwift, peleton, treadmill, and some mobility work from a birthday week spent mostly on the road

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

Unable

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. Last night I was squeezing in a short Peleton ride at the hotel gym in the MSP airport after a long, reroute induced day. My favorite instructor (partly because she is so often quotable), Robin Arzon, said something that stuck with me.

I decided I needed to get some additional movement in after eating a late dinner and spending most of the day butt in seat. It was just a short twenty minute hip hop ride, but Robin was able to work in this gem. “no, is a complete sentence”.

El Duderino making Play-Doh medicine so daddy can feel better (may or may not have pushed the limits last week)

She then went on to say, something along the lines of “if it isn’t increasing my bank account, or increasing the vibe of my tribe, the answer is no, and that is part of self care”. While I think the latter part of the statement is a bit more crafted and word smithed, the first part felt more organic and resonated with me.

It is also something that we hear on repeat in the aviation industry but struggle with both inside and outside the cockpit. “Unable” is also a full sentence, and it is one that is extremely important to use.

Speedy getting in some jungle gym action at Crayola

Pilots tend to be not only a mission oriented bunch but also type A personality predominantly. This often leads to pushing beyond a sense of personal comfort to complete the mission.

This is a common occurrence amongst the triathlon and endurance community as well. Pushing past the comfort zone is something that is inherent to those sporting domains and seeps into the everyday decisions that those members tend to make.

Enjoying the splash pad in the land of endless summer

I know I have more hobbies and responsibilities than time, and I often find myself trying to “do all the things”. Not wanting to give up the things that are priorities, but also not saying no when other requests pop up is a real struggle for a lot of us. Doing all the things is never an achievable goal and even aiming that high, knowing and accepting, that you will fall short can still lead to burnout.

This is where “No”, and “Unable”, find their essential place in the conversation. Pilots are very familiar with the term when it comes to the limits of their aircraft. If a controller wants a speed/altitude/heading that isn’t possible or safe, pilots don’t hesitate to play the “unable” card. But, being mission oriented, pilots are more reluctant to assess their own limits the way they would the aircraft.

To be fair, the aircraft comes with a manual, black and white criteria that it can and cannot perform. They are also tested in safe conditions to find their limits, and then placarded, with an appropriate safety margin or course. How familiar are you with your own limits and safety margins? Are they fixed and placarded, or more fluid and malleable?

Getting back in the saddle after race week and a brief cold

With many of my hobbies, part of the draw is testing those limits, finding where they are and how far they can be pushed. The endurance/triathlon community knows all about this. So to does the grappling community, because there is nothing like testing your skill against a brother or sister who is also trying to test themself whilst trying to render you unconscious.

There is something about pushing limits, that pushes the throttle up on life. Life becomes amplified, in way that is addictive. Pushing that throttle up, is not without it’s costs, and limits inevitably need to be pushed further to find that familiar feeling.

Putting in work on the trail and the book on the long DAY layover

It is ok to be unable. It is ok to say No. They are both complete sentences. In spite of the little voice telling you to keep pushing, there is serenity to be found in respecting your limits with complete sentences.

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

Autopilot

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. I’m working my way through Influence The Psychology of Persuasion by Robert Cialdini and he made an interesting connection that I wanted to explore here.

The book covers seven levers of influence that work on a subconscious psychological level to run and manage our behavior. Each lever of influence is discussed in depth with fascinating experimental examples to illustrate not only how powerful these effects are but also how much we underestimate their importance.

I highly recommend it as a read for an overall enhanced perspective as well as increased ability to recognize and combat what he calls “click, run” behavior. Behavior that can be triggered by a lever of influence (click), and then like a computer program, is run almost without our knowing.

In the chapter on social proof, the lever of influence that we are more inclined to do what everyone else is doing, Cialdini likens this neural response to an autopilot.

“the evidence it offers is valuable, with it we can sail confidently through countless decisions without having to investigate the pros and cons of each. In this sense, the principle equips us with a wonderful kind of autopilot device not unlike that aboard most aircraft. Yet there are occasional, but real, problems with autopilots. Those problems appear whenever the flight information locked into the control mechanism is wrong.”

I know a thing or two about autopilot usage. Training on modern aircraft is essentially broken down into two parts, the aircraft systems, and the FMS or the flight management system which is comprised of flight computers and autopilots.

These flight management systems have become so complex, and so integral to aircraft operation, that learning how to manipulate the system is just as important as being able to manipulate the aircraft itself.

In a statistically invalid survey of my aviator friends as well as my own observations, most commercial flights are controlled by the autopilot for upwards of 95% of the flight. This makes sense, the autopilot doesn’t fatigue, is more fuel efficient, is reliable, and consistent. It is also dumb.

By this I mean the autopilot is very good at doing what it is told, even if what it is told will not produce a desirable outcome. It cannot think, it can only execute. This is one of the most common issues with autopilot related incidents, not that the autopilot malfunctions per se, but that in some way the autopilot is not doing what the pilot wants it to.

This generally happens for a number of reasons, including: the pilot puts an incorrect input into the system, the pilot wants to change an input in the system and fails to do so, or one input conflicts with another input and the computer “chooses” which one to follow based on its programming.

Some more concrete examples of the above mentioned improper pilot-autopilot interface are: a pilot setting the altitude to 10,000 feet when they really meant to set 12,000, a pilot trying to depress the button to initiate a descent but failing to depress the button fully and not engaging the descent mode, and a pilot inputting 10,000 feet and engaging the descent mode but failing to realize he also put in a constraint at 12,000 feet where to autopilot will stop the descent.

In each of these examples, the autopilot can fly the aircraft with a higher level of consistency, accuracy, and reliability, than the pilot, and it will do so to the wrong altitude. As pilots, when we interface improperly with our autopilots, bad things tend to happen. The same thing can be said, and is by Cialdini, about the autopilot systems of our brain.

The dilemma with all of the levers of influence as presented by Cialdini, is that they are mostly benefitial to our lives. The sheer volume of information that we process everyday can be overwhelming, and these levers of influence offer real life neural short cuts, evolutionarily proven methods of making the better decision without the costly investment in analysis. “Because the autopilot afforded by the principle of social proof is more often an ally than an antagonist, we can’t be expected to want to simply disconnect it”

A beautiful morning for a run in Green Bay

It is when we have an improper input into the system, fail to engage the system in the way that we truly desire, or have conflicting system inputs, that our neural autopilot causes us problems. As pilots we develop procedures and checklists to help avoid these errors, and when all else fails we disconnect the automation and fly the airplane.

That is the core message at the end of every chapter from Cialdini. All of these levers of influence are based on automatic systems in the brain, and that we need to understand how to manage the inputs, and when all else fails to disconnect the system and fly ourselves.

I know I am often a slave to my routine, and while that makes some of my decision making easier, it also leaves me susceptible to those same autopilot mistakes. Sometimes it is refreshing to click off the automation and re-experience the beauty of operating the machine, whether it is a Boeing or a human athlete.

Putting in some zwift and Peleton miles ahead of the start of my race season

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

If you drop the cake…

Happy New year, and thanks for stopping in to Serenity through Sweat. I hope 2020 finds you all in good health, happy disposition and appropriately sweaty.

I was training Jiu Jitsu with the owner of my gym the other day and he said something that has stuck with me well beyond our roll

Brad is a business owner, a black belt masters world champion, an incredibly gifted athlete frequently training with people half his age, and he likes to talk. It’s not uncommon for our training rolls to be 60% rolling 40% talking. And most of it is pleasantries or whatever the topic of the day is, but this particular comment has me thinking about its value beyond a grappling context.

Brad had asked our new head instructor Alec (new to our school and fresh off an ADCC competition) about how to escape a position and Alec replied (I’m paraphrasing) “sometimes if you drop the cake you don’t get to just pick it back up, you have to go back to the kitchen and make a new one”

From a grappling context I totally understood the idea. The best defense for some positions is to never be put there to begin with. We need to learn to sense the danger in positions before it is too late, and if we don’t, then you tap, reset, and try to learn for the next time. But what about outside Jiu Jitsu?

How many times in my personal or work relationships have I “dropped the cake”? And then my initial reaction is that everything is fine, I’ll just pick up the cake off the floor. I know when I screw up, especially if I’ve hurt someone I care about, I want to fix it ASAP. But the cake is on the floor and baking a new one takes time and effort, (plus I’m not a great baker so probably some more practice)

On the same note, if someone I love “drops the cake” am I giving them the opportunity to go back and make a new one, or am I kicking them out of the kitchen?

With the arrival of the new year the majority of us probably have some resolutions to better ourselves, improve our relationships, etc… How are we going to respond when we inevitably drop the cake on one of our new resolutions?

Forgiveness is a tough ask and a two way street. Whether you are forgiving a friend or co-worker, or even forgiving yourself, or you are asking for forgiveness, at some point we all drop the cake. Finding serenity is a much easier journey if we can learn to forgive ourselves and others, (and stay out of any leg reaps).

Thanks for joining me, and stay sweaty my friends.