Zwift – Serenity Through Sweat

Outcome

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. Normally this time of year, I am thinking back on my somewhat ill-advised tradition of the christmas half marathon. This year, I want to talk about a different tradition.

For almost as long as I can remember, Christmas time around my house has come with fudge.

Growing up cutting weight for wrestling during the holidays, there were many years where I was less enthused with this tradition.

I still partook of course. It just meant a few more sprints, and envy as I handed out whole tins of fudge to teachers, coaches, and relatives who could enjoy it without thoughts of the scale nagging at them.

The fudge recipe has been passed down through at least three (and now four) generations on my moms side of the family.

My wife and I received the recipe along with some tutorial batches this christmas.

I have always watched my mother make fudge, even helping from time to time over the years. Licking the spoon counts as helping, right?

What struck me most about this tradition is a small line at the bottom of the recipe. I cannot share the recipe as it is a family secret, but I think sharing this part is ok.

“It is truly a learning experience, and even after 40+ years of making fudge, the outcome is not guaranteed.”

Now, this particular quote talks about some of the steps in the recipe that are more art than science. They require some judgment and experience rather than just blindly following steps.

It made me think about some of our other traditions, how they, too, are not guaranteed.

It would certianly be easy to skip my annual half marathon. There have been many years where it was a struggle to fit it in. Years where I wanted to walk (or hobble) away in the middle of it.

Even just getting together as a family, especially with the amount of time I spend away as a pilot, is never a guarantee.

What makes it a tradition, what makes anything a tradition really, are a few people’s stubborn dedication to make something stick.

And not just to make it stick, but also to make it meaningful. To make it something we look forward to. To make it something that we associate with that holiday or time of the year.

I’m grateful for the many traditions that we have in my family. Even more so now, because of the appreciation for how easy it is to let them fall by the wayside. The outcome is not guaranteed.

It also gives me a sense of hope, for those traditions that have lain dormant for years. That maybe with that same stubborn dedication, they can be revived.

It gives me a renewed sense of purpose. One of our main roles as parents is to be teachers, mentors, and examples for children and other younger members of our family.

Maybe that is a bit too much philosophizing over making fudge, but I think we could all use some more stubborn dedication to family values.

The pursuit of passing on what is important to us, to the generations that follow, knowing that the outcome is never guaranteed.

13th annual Christmas half marathon and the first run of the new year

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

Progress

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. A few weeks ago, I earned my black belt in Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, and I wanted to reflect on that today.

I started wrestling when I was 5 years old. I have been grappling in one form or another for most of my life. For all intents and purposes, I have been throwing other people around, and getting thrown around myself, for longer than I have done any other activity in my life.

It’s kind of weird to think about it that way. I went to school from kindergarten, all the way up through a masters degree, but I have still spent more years on the mats than in a classroom.

I’ve only been working a real job (if you can even call flying an airplane a real job) since I was 18. Again less time than I’ve spent manipulating sweaty bodies.

Earning a black belt was never something I sought out or aspired to. In fact, growing up as a wrestler, I thought they were kind of a joke.

Every martial artist thinks their art is the toughest, and their gym is the best, and wrestlers are no exception. But, wrestling doesn’t have any belts, so the idea always seemed silly to me.

Even when I transitioned to Jiu Jitsu, the idea of belts seemed less important, and mote symbolic than anything. With so much wrestling experience, my white belt in Jiu Jitsu quickly became a point of frustration for my training partners.

Even as a blue belt and a purple belt, I would have lots of frustrated peers in the gym comparing themselves to my belt color without the understanding that thousand of hours of wrestling weren’t factored in to the rankings.

I started teaching and instructing as a brown belt, and any of those misconceptions that had existed before, melted away quickly.

Even when I received my black belt, and I knew the honor was coming, I wasn’t sure what it meant to me. I knew I would be asked to speak, and I wasn’t sure what I wanted to say.

I said some thank yous to my coaches, my mother, my family, and my teammates and training partners. I talked about how wrestling and Jiu Jitsu have been a release for me. A safe place to de stress and decompress. To get out of my own head and out of my own way. Serenity Through Sweat.

I felt that my remarks after receiving my black belt were inadequate. I was unprepared to explain not just what it meant to me, but what grappling has done for me, what it has taught me, and how it has shaped me.

Thankfully, I have this space, to explore and share those thoughts. I also have, hopefully, many more years on the mats to share those thoughts and the knowledge gained with anyone who will train with me.

My biggest takeaway from grappling, the thing that I learned on the mats through blood, sweat, and tears across three decades, that yranslates so well to everything ends in life: progress is not linear.

If you put in the work, really put it the work, doing the right things, you will make progress.

Sometimes, that progress comes in leaps and bounds, slowly and then all at once. Those are the magical moments we remember. When something finally clicks and we level up.

Sometimes progress does come in a steady trickle. You grind out the reps you are supposed to and are rewarded in kind.

A lot of the time though, certainly more than we would like, progress is infintecimally small. What seemed at one point like a steady climb becomes filled with plateaus and false peaks.

It is easy to feel like you are treading water or stuck in a rut.

I can’t tell you how many times across my grappling career I have felt stuck. How many times I didn’t know if I could improve or how. How many times i thought i had leveled up, only to be humbled and feel like I was starting from scratch again.

My senior year in high school, coming off championships the previous two years, I didn’t score a single takedown on my main training partner in the practice room all year. Not one

I still went on to win the state championship that year and advance further than I had previously. A whole year of treading water in the practice room. Feeling like I wasn’t making any progress, but my persistence was rewarded in the end.

Im reminded of the scene in Catch Me If You Can (obviously a favorite of pilots who wished they looled half as cool as frank abagnail jr strutting through the terminal flanked by attractive young flight attendants)

Frank’s father gives a speech about two mice thrown into a bucket of cream. One mouse struggles so hard, he churns the cream into butter, and crawls out.

Treading water, but making progress. It certainly wasn’t linear, but rather slowly, and then all at once.

That’s how I feel about my black belt, and that is the lesson I hope to pass on to other grapplers, and to my boys, wether they choose to follow me ontonthe mats or not.

Progress isn’t linear. But, if you keep struggling, keep churning, keep climbing the mountain through the false peaks and plateaus, you will find the summit.

The journey is a worthy endeavor, and there is plentynof serenity to be found along the way.

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

Thanksgiving

The crisp air felt refreshing, rather than the typical dry ragged burn of icy dryness down my throat. The sun came in blinding flashes through the trees, still clinging to the last leaves of fall. The horn section of the ska track greeted me with enthusiasm despite the combination of running earmuffs and headphones chaffing my cauliflowered ears as I bounded through the park.

Sometimes, the music just sets you up for the right kind of day.

I flew into JFK this morning and meandered my way through heavy traffic both, vehicular and sidewalk, to get to Central Park.

I’m not sure what it is, but there is something special about running there. All the other people enjoying the outdoors. The protected green space, surrounded by a concrete jungle. Running fast enough to pass all the horse drawn carriages (and avoiding stepping in their steaming piles).

It got me thinking about all the things I’m thankful for. The list is long. I am very blessed. But, at the forefront, I’m thankful for a life of adventure.

Raising kids is an adventure. Choosing a life partner is an adventure. Traveling to new places and actually exploring those places leads to all sorts of adventures.

These past few months, in particular, I have been seeking out more and more of those adventures.

Part of it was training and preparation for the six gap century ride, (a grand adventure in its own right). But, I think that training also reawakened in me the thirst for adventure.

What started as a way to get in some extra miles morphed into something beautiful. Opportunities taken, not squandered, and approached with reverence and appreciation.

I’m eternally grateful for these opportunities. To travel, to explore, to interact with these new and familiar places in new and exciting ways.

I’m grateful for the physical health and wellness that enables me pursue these passions.

Riding 90 miles around Lake tahoe, knowing I have an early morning and a long day of work ahead tomorrow.

Fumbling my way on a rickety hotel bike to a trailhead for a hike in Montana

Racing ahead of my new group ride friends on unfamiliar roads so I can get back in time to drink wine with my wife

Struggling up a sandy logging road in the back hills of Boise during wildfire season.

Riding through the fall foliage in Roanoke on the blue ridge parkway late enough in the season that it is closed for cars.

Taking Speedy and El Duderino on a boys weekend trip immediately after returning from a red eye.

I’m grateful for the joie de vivre, that gets me out of the hotel and out of the house to explore. Grateful that it is something I get to do, not something I have to do.

I’m grateful to both of my parents for instilling that sense of wonder and adenture in me. I hope that my words, and more so my actions, instill that same sense of wonder in my boys.

That they can see the plethora of adventures that await them. That they can see all the joy waiting for them to reach out and claim on their own paths.

I hope that they get a chance to explore the big, beautiful world i am just starting to explore.

I hope that they see the value in adventure and are inspired to follow their own passions

I hope that they find their own serenity, even if only for the briefest of moments, and maybe they even get a little sweaty along the way.

I’m grateful for the opportunity to watch them in that endeavor, for as long as I can, knowing that tomorrow is not a guarantee.

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

Better off

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. Tonight Americans will make their voices heard at the polls. This blog has always tried to steer a clear line around politics, and will continue to do so. In that light though, a common question asked around elections, are you better off now than you were two, four, whatever political term limit years ago?

Frankly, I find the question offensive, especially in the context in which it is asked. Our lives are so complex, and measuring something as open-ended as “better off” is really hard to pin down and subject to interpretation.

So, right off the bat, it is a bad question that is hard to define any real answer to.

Add to that the context, whereby the question implies that whatever politician is directly responsible for your bounty or misfortune.

Now, if you ask yourself that same question, putting the onus on yourself rather than some distant bureaucrat, it’s a totally different story.

Are you better off than you were four years ago? Are you better off than you were a year ago? Are you better off than you were a month ago? Yesterday? Why or why not?

Life has thrown a lot at all of us in the last four years. But skilled sailors are not made by smooth seas, as they say.

Have you grown? Have you changed? Have you gotten healthier? Have you learned and loved?

Politics have little to no impact over most of those things. And, those are among the most important things.

Make your voice heard at the polls. Vote for the ploicy direction you believe in. But also, vote for yourself.

Vote for your health. Vote for your relationships and your loved ones. Vote for adventure and experience. Vote for growth and knowledge.

If you are better off than you were four years ago, what is your personal platform for the next four years?

If you aren’t better off, no one is going to change it for you. You are running unopposed and have no red tape to cut through to implement change.

Regardless of the election results, you will have a super majority to make changes in your own life.

Getting more time on the bike inside and outside

You likely won’t have to convince anyone other than yourself.

I hope you are better off now than you were four years ago. I hope you are better off tomorrow than you are today. I hope you are better off four years from now.

Unfortunately, hope is not a strategy. You get to be the architect of your future, whether that leaves you better off or not. May you find serenity along the way.

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

Auto pause

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. A few weeks ago, I completed the six gap century ride and I wanted to reflect on that experience.

It was not the ideal backdrop for the 104 miles and 11,000+ of climbing. Hurricane Helene had just pushed through north Georgia and western North Carolina. Roads were wet, trees and debris were all over, and the forecast was for rain and fog in the mountains.

A lot of the participants, including some of my friends and teammates, were delaying their departure, thinking the event might be rescheduled or canceled.

It’s difficult to explain the mindset leading up to a big event like this. Most of the time, it is something you haven’t done before. The most miles, the biggest climb, the longest day, maybe all three, for this particular event.

All the training and preparation lead you to this moment on the starting line for something you’ve never done before. The uncertainty of the outcome and the uncertainty of the circumstances combine to test your resolve in a strangely invigorating way.

It’s important to go into any event with a plan. But, the longer the event, the more likely it is that the plan is going to blow up at some point. So, it is important to be able to pivot and be flexible within your overall framework.

I gave myself plenty of time to wake up, stretch, and drive to the event parking area, even leaving in some extra time for the unexpected.

The unexpected came in the form of my third trip to the port-a-potty and my new bike computer failing to load the route within the final minutes before the starting horn. Better to get it out beforehand, I suppose.

Two thousand of my new best friends and I started through the quiet streets of Dahlonega, a parade of multi colored lycra and flashing bike lights.

We climbed and descended, weaving our way through small mountain towns, making our way through the foggy peaks and fall foliage.

The steepest of the climbs on the day, Hogpen gap came 37 miles into the ride. Averging a 10% gradient with parts of the climb above 15%, it was a slow and quiet climb.

The road had been closed off to vehicle traffic, which made the climb eerily quiet. The slow clicking of pedals and deep rythmic breathing echoed off the trees and the damp cliffside rocks.

Not having the route on my bike computer, I didn’t know how far into the climb I was or how much I had left. (The precise feature I had purchased this bike computer for, c’est la vie)

Looking down, I noticed that the computer was paused. I had not turned off my auto pause feature. This is a feature, (usually helpfull for Florida training rides), where the bike computer realizes you aren’t moving and pauses the activity tracking. It auto resumes once it detects movement again.

So if you stop at a traffic light, or break to eat or refill a bottle, your training stats are not affected by the pause.

The trudging dance of pedals up Hogpen gap was slow enough that my bike computer thought I wasn’t moving at all.

That was a little deflating.

But, the bike computer doesn’t know the struggle. It doesn’t know the experience. It is binary. Above this speed is moving, and below it is stopped.

The whole thing made me think of Einstein. One of his many famous quotes, coming from a letter to his son, was, “Life is like riding a bicycle, to keep your balance you must keep moving”

Even when it looks like you are standing still or treading water, struggling to keep your head afloat, the movement is what saves you. The movement is what balances you, literally and figuratively.

I made it over the top of Hogpen gap with lots more miles and lots more climbing still in front of me. I kept moving. It wasn’t always fast, and it wasn’t always pretty, but it was always forward.

Every bike I have had since I started racing has had a name. This bike was purchased with the six gap ride in mind. It had to be nimble up the climbs and fast and stable down the descents. I struggled to come up with a name for the first few months I had it.

Her name came to me while listening to this Shawn James song on a training ride, looking out over the mountains.

“So you think you got it all figured out?
All this money in the bank and the women all about. Well, now what you gonna do when your ship starts to sink?
Caught in a monstrous sea and you won’t be able to think. Yeah, and it’s there you’ll learn what I know. That all of this world will fade You gotta learn to let it all go, oh And flow like the river”

Flow like the river. Always moving. Always forward. Changing course if something blocks its way, but constant power and movement.

One of my favorite TV/movie combos is Firefly/Serenity. It features a rag tag bunch of outlaw space adventurers defying the odds aboard their shuttle ‘Serenity’. The story centers around a character named River.

Constant movement, serenity, an incredible cinematic journey, some funky blues guitar, it all lined up perfectly for what I wanted this bike to be.

Flow like the river

A reminder of why I keep coming back to new endurance challenges. To keep growing. To keep moving forward. To find serenity. To flow like the river, whether the world thinks you are on auto pause or not.

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

Here it is your moment of zen

Recalibrate

Sometimes, ego gets in the way.

My heart rate strap, the large puddle of sweat underneath me, and my own intuition after thousands of hours on the bike were telling me one story.

My power meter was telling a very different one.

The same course and roughly the same intensity, with a recalibrated power meter.

I knew something wasn’t quite right, but I didn’t know how to fix it. As much as I tried to ignore it, the numbers on the display are there to be used, and when they are not right, it can be disheartening and distracting.

The whole experience reminded me a little bit of my days as a college flight instructor.

I can remember the flight instructor meeting vividly. Sitting in the conference room, a bunch of type A personalities in our matching flight instuctor polo shirts.

Having just sat through a training presentation on the new avionics suite that would be installed in our new Piper Warriors, one of my friends asked what our students would be expected to know and be tested on.

“So, air data goes in, and pretty colors come out?”

This was almost all of our first experience with a “glass cockpit”. All of us had learned and instructed on mechanical flight instruments.

A knowledge of how those mechanical instruments were built and how they functioned was critical to understanding the data they were giving you.

It was also important to understand the limitations of the mechanical systems. To learn any potential fail points or errors. How or why might the instrument give you bad data? What could you do about it?

So when those instruments are transtioned from mechanical devices to data computers, the fundamental knowledge of how those instruments were doing their respectively similar job went down.

Back to my sweaty bike trainer on the back deck, I knew something wasn’t right. I suspected my power meter, but my understanding of the decice was similar to that of the new air data computer. I push on the pedals, and pretty colors and numbers show up on the screen.

Why was I getting bad data? Was it bad data? How does the tool even work? Is it something I can fix? Am I just being a wimp? (The power data being shown was tragically low compared to what i was expecting/used to seeing)

Taking all the jerseys and bumping up the FTP numbers

These were all the questions going throughy my head. I decided to phone a friend and found that my pedals just needed a simple recalibration.

By recalibrating the pedals to a new zero set point, they immediately started showing the correct (and much more reassuring for my delicate ego) power numbers.

But I still didn’t really understand what I was measuring, or more accurately, how I was measuring it.

God bless the internet. What a time to be alive.

A power meter, measures torque using an electricity sensitive strain gauge. Basically, an electrical mesh is placed inside of whatever surface or tool is being strained. A small computer measures the electrical resiatance in the mesh. When torque (twisting force) is put on the surface or tool, the electrical mesh feels some of that force and the electrical resistance changes. The computer measures those changes and then transmits them to another device for display.

I had a basic understanding of pedal harder more power. Push on the power meter and pretty colorful numbers show up on my bike computer. Only the numbers were less pretty and more disheartening.

Even the idea of recalibrating, while it made sense, left me with an unfinished feeling. That went away once I researched how the power meter worked.

I think that’s an important part of the recalibration process that gets overlooked. Something is broken, or something isn’t working right. We recalibrate, and the issue is resolved, but we don’t know enough about why it was giving us bad data in the first place.

Without that knowledge, without that insight into the why and the how, we are left with input->computer->pretty color display. When things break down, that becomes painfully insufficient.

I try to remind myself of this silly lesson whenever I need to recalibrate. We all need a reset sometimes. Underatanding the why and the how, and getting back to baseline can help on the path to serenity.

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.

Change

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. This week, I want to talk about change, how we are the most adaptable creatures on the planet, and at the same time, are incredibly resistant to change.

It has been longer than I like since my last post, but as you know, life has a a tendency to get in the way.

El Duderino had his second cataract removal surgery this month, which saw me home with him helping him recover. By helping him recover, I mean making sure he gets all the requisite eye drops in. Sometimes, that done with a gentle hand and a gentle word. Other times, it was my best grappling skills to stabilize bodied in a pacifying manner.

Last time bouncing before surgery and healing time

The surgery went well, and El Duderino is on his way to a bright new future, quite literally. In the days immediately after the surgery though, he refused to open his eyes. Both the recently operated on eye, as well as the already recovered eye.

The first day after surgery is crucial for examination, I’m told. So much so, that the eye Dr asked about putting him under anesthesia a second time if she was unable to examine the eye.

It took every ounce of physical and emotional strength I had to hold him down the day after surgery. Squirming and screaming in the eye doctor’s chair, he was adamant on not opening his eyes.

Outside of normal human functions, breathing, moving, talking, the one activity I have spent more of my life doing than anything else, is forcibly controlling bodies. I felt uniquely qualified for this task, in spite of the emotional toll it took on me.

It didn’t occur to me that this change would be so jarring for him. I don’t know what his vision was before. I don’t really know what it is now. We have metrics that we can assign to vision, and those metrics have improved. But his lived experience, even as a very articulate six year old, is very hard to discern.

Going from a cloudy field of vision, to a clear field of vision, even with a brief hiatus in recovery seemed like it should be a good change. One to be welcomed and embraced. Instead, he retreated. He stayed in a self imposed darkness for almost three full days.

We were able to pry his eye open safely the day after surgery. Every other attempt to get him to open his eyes over the next three days was unsuccessful. Look, your favorite show is on TV, “no thanks”. Can you help me pick out some cookies to share with our friends? “Maybe you can just tell me about them”.

I’m not sure what he was thinking or feeling. The most I was able to get out of him was, “it feels funny when I open it”

And still, after the third day, his eyes opened, like it had never happened. He adapted to his new reality. How can we as a species be both so stubborn and so adaptable?

I’ve been doing a lot more grappling in the past few months as I transition out of triathlon season. I’ve also tried to train at different gyms across the country as I travel, preparing for an upcoming competition.

I was recently training at a 10th planet gym, known for their unorthodox no gi style, especially their guard. The head instructor commented that I had one of the best “wrestler guards” he had seen in a while.

Wrestlers are programmed from day one not to go to their back. I heard Daniel Cormier (UFC double champ and Olympic wrestler) recently say he can’t sleep on his back without having nightmares, a sentiment I had during my high-school wrestling days as well.

Cycling miles fell off a bit as BJJ season picks up.

As I have transitioned to BJJ over the last decade, I have made a concerted effort to play guard and feel comfortable off my back. At this point, most of my training time is spent there, fighting from my back, or at least the bottom position.

I have adapted extremely well to the new rule set and strategy of Jiu Jitsu. And yet, at this latest competition, I found myself stubbornly insisting on wrestling, despite almost none of my training and preparation for this competition, including wrestling of any sort.

Like a small child with my eyes closed, I clung to what was familiar, shaying away from a change that had already happened. A change that has made me better.

It is difficult in the heat of the moment to embrace the new game plan and not revert to the comfort of old patterns. I’ve done a great job making this change in the gym, but have yet to see that transition fully materialize in competition.

Adaptable and stubborn. Embracing change, and simultaneously rejecting it. Hiding from it. Eyes closed curled up under the blanket.

As the saying goes, the only constant, is change. We are incredibly adaptable creatures, and there is serenity to be found in embracing that change.

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.

October sky

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. I was fortunate enough to have a long layover last week where I could see my dad.

We spent most of the visit alone, in our respective tree stands. Although no meat was harvested, I think it was a refreshing and rejuvenating day in the woods.

Our respective tree stands were a short hike, up a very steep hill, to the top of the ridgeline. Even at the top of the hill, we were still only five minutes from home and still had cell service. A pretty great place to be hunting.

It was nice to be able to communicate between the stands. We can let each other know when we saw something and which way it was moving.

We were also able to talk about some of the projects he is working on. He moved into this fixer upper farmhouse about six years ago, and there is always something that needs doing.

From new outbuildings, a new deck, tractor maintenance and repair, there are always lots of projects going on.

His skid steer tractor was down with a broken bearing issue. He had ordered a custom made housing, but it had not been made to his desired specifications.

He would send a text with an idea to fix or make use of the existing part. I would ask questions from my admitidly very limited knowledge base of the problem. Eventually he came up with what he thought was a working solution. He would have to fabricate another part, to use in conjunction with the misformed ordered part.

The whole process made me think of October Sky. How easy it is to burn things down or break them, and how much harder it is to make them. The generational differences of those that grew up making more than obtaining.

October Sky is a 1999 movie featuring Jake Gyllenhaal as a west virginia coal miner’s son Homer Hickam. Based on a true story, Homer is inspired by the launch of Sputnik to pursue amateur rocketry. He ultimately gets out of the coal town on a college scholarship, and ultimately works as a NASA engineer.

Homer starts by blowing up the new picket fence in his front yard. Next he almost hurts several people with a rogue rocket. His father tells him no more rockets on the company property.

Since the mining company owns the whole town, Homer and his friends walk 9 miles each way to get to the town limits where they can launch their home made rockets.

A helpful union machinist tells them their lower quality steel is the cause of their rockets losing launch velocity. He is happy to show them how to order the steel from a catalog and how to machine it and shape it.

In order to scrape together the money for the new steel, Homer and his friends take rail road track off an abandoned section to sell them for scrap.

Standard track in the US varies between 60 and 130 lbs/ft with the standard track pieces coming in at 4 ft 8.5 inches. Since it is a coal mining town I’m assuming they were on the higher end of the spectrum. That means each piece weighed upwards of 600 pounds.

These high school kids were pulling up 600 lb hunks of steel to sell for scrap, ordering their raw materials from a paper catalog, then machining and hand building their own parts, so they could walk 9 miles outside of town to actually use them.

Fall hiking and Octoberfest in the NC mountains

I’m worried my five year old will soon figure out how to use alexa to start ordering toys directly to the house.

What a difference in cultural expectations in the lifetime of just a single person (1957 sputnik launch to today). If you wanted something, you had to learn about it. You had to build it.

This generation is incredibly creative. Building with digital code is still building. Creating digital content is still creating. But, I wonder how much we have lost by diverging away from the path of physical, tangible creation?

Lots of climbing on the bike this training block

I’m reminded of this tanguble building spirit every time I visit my dad. I get to see what he creates both at home and through his work. It is an inspiring trait I hope to emulate and pass on the the next generation of men in our family.

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