Neoteny

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. I made my way up to Atlanta to start training on a new aircraft yesterday.  That will probably be a topic for next week.  Over the past few weeks I’ve been trying to study for that new aircraft on top of my already extensive list of hobbies, projects, and those pesky adult responsibilities like working and being a husband and father.  All work and no play makes jack a dull boy, as they say. Which is why I’m thinking about neoteny.

I was introduced to the concept by author Edward Slingeland, in his latest work Drunk how we sipped danced and stumbled our way to civilization.

The book provides a very well thought out and compelling argument supporting the careful use of alcohol in adults.  Things like creativity, lateral thinking, team building and trust are some of the positive outcomes that are enhanced with responsible alcohol consumption. These are not just anecdotes, but we’ll documented peer reviewed scientific findings.

The book covers the dangers and pitfalls of alcohol as well, and makes the case for moderate use with appropriate set and setting.

One of the things I found fascinating, was how alcohol effects the adult mind mechanistically. Especially the analogies that Slingeland provided.  Alcohol effectively down-regulates the prefrontal cortex (PFC).  An area of the brain Slingeland refers to as the playground monitor.

The PFC is responsible for all of the pesky adult things like keeping you focused, task managing, self regulation, and daily routines. It is also the part of your brain that develops later in life (late adolescence). 

This is the reason I can focus on putting on my shoes to take my kids to the playground, while El Duderino and Speedy want to play pirate, even though ten seconds ago the were asking me to take them. Their PFCs are not fully developed.  Their task management, social cognition, and focus (or lack of all three) is the normal state of operation for their brain. The playground monitor doesn’t yet exist.

There are advantages however, to having no playground monitor. Children score significantly better than adults on lateral thinking tasks like a (remote associate test).  You are given three seemingly unrelated words and asked to come up with a fourth that is related to the first three.  Here is an example Fox, Man, Peep. (answer at the end of the post).

Adults are able to close that gap in lateral thinking ability with their progeny by temporarily taking their PFCs offline.  This has been done in scientific studies with cranial magnets, and with carefully administered doses of alcohol.

In other words, making your brain revert closer to it’s childhood state increase lateral thinking ability, reduces inhibitions, and provides an escape from the all that adult regulating going on in the PFC.  Sounds like exactly what I was aiming to do  at my college dive bar karaoke night.

This reversion to a more childlike state of mind can be very advantageous, especially when coupled with other similarly reverted individuals with similar goals. Slingeland references the types of synergy that is produced at industry conferences when creative individuals gather together with adequate social lubricant.

What I also found interesting, was that this reversion to a more child like state of mind, is not the only aspect of humans where retaining child like features has been evolutionarily selected for. Neoteny, (biologically speaking) is the retention of juvenile traits into adulthood.

I’m not sure knocking my play ground monitor of a pre frontal cortex out with a few craft beers is exactly what biologists had in mind with Neoteny, but Slingeland sure makes a good case for it.

Ironically (or maybe less ironic and more appropriate) the last line of my marriage vows read “I can’t promise to grow up, but I promise to grow old with you” retention of juvenile traits into adulthood runs deep in my gene pool.

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

The answer to the remote associate test was “hole” (foxhole, manhole, peephole)

Quitting

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. This week I want to talk about quitting. That may seem like an odd message for what is typically a more upbeat and positively oriented platform, but hear me out.

Author of The Voltage Effect, John List was on the freakonomics podcast discussing his book and his overall economic philosophy. The book is an economist’s ideas on how to make entrepreneurial ideas work at scale.

The conversation covered a number of cases studies including Uber, Lyft, and K-mart. Specifically discussed was the K-mart blue light special.

The blue light special (along with K-mart) went from being a sales mogul, to a forgotten cultural relic. Lost to the annals of history along with Kodak and Blockbuster.

The blue light special would alert shoppers to a great deal on individual products that were then first come first serve until they were gone. The resulting increase in sales not just for the blue light product but for all products was astonishing.

Taking advantage of excitement, scarcity, and a feeling of exclusivity, the blue light special was a smash hit. Until it was taken over by corporate. individual store managers could set the blue light special for their customers needs in a way that was inaccessible to corporate offices. Not to mention that the shoppers in Boise probably had different wants than those in Orlando.

Among other decisions and macro trends outside of their control, K-mart fell by the wayside. List discusses some of these trends but laments corporate inability to shift from a bad plan. When the desired outcome is not being served by a plan it is time to quit. This is what he calls optimal quitting.

Quitting has a decidedly negative connotation, and especially for the many endeavors that I pursue, grappling and triathlon among others. But within each of those activities are dozens of optimal quitting scenarios.

Abandoning a technique that has been cleverly countered. Switching to a different game plan or overall strategy for an opponent with different skill sets. Changing your race pace or gearing based on race day terrain or conditions. These are all examples of optimal quitting. Real time adjustments when the desired outcome is not being served.

Parenting presents plenty of opportunities for optimal quitting too. Wrestling with my boys is all fine and well until it escalates, or gets them too riled up before bed. There is undoubtedly and optimal time to quit. One that is often times slightly exceeded.

The tools used to tackle a tantruming toddler can vary in their approach. Using one too long may preclude using another. If you use the stick too early, it is hard to dangle the carrot. If they’ve already got the carrot the stick doesn’t hold the same power. There is a period of optimal quitting when changing your tactics with a toddler. One I have yet to figure out.

The point is, quitting is not the end all be all of negativity it is often painted to be. Practice quitting, especially optimally quitting, is worth your time and energy. As someone who has stumbled into doing it correctly on occasion, whether it be grappling, parenting, or grappling with my parenting dilemma, optimal quitting can yield its own form of serenity.

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

Standstill

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. While working on my linguistics project I have come across a lot of universal wisdom disguised as bland academia. Thoughts and quotes that produce a lasting effect well beyond the initial reading. I wanted to share one of them with you this week.

One of the best ways to truly understand a thing, is to study it’s history and development. Things rarely take a linear path to their current status. Those twists and turns are often filled with difficult decisions, decisions which alter trajectory.

The study of language and communication is no different. If anything I have found it to be even more interesting, because there’s is so much we don’t know. Hypotheses rise and fall on new data and discoveries in a never ending change of tides. The Oxford Handbook of the History of Linguistics, tells this story across the millennia and across the various areas of linguistic study.

Our current understanding of language, is in large part due to understanding the process of change. What data we have an ancient languages, and mapping the changes through the years to where we are now.

One of the beautiful things about language is that it is dynamic and mobile. A word’s meaning, connotation, even it’s spelling is all subject to change.

“There can never be in language, just as there can never be in the continually blazing thoughts of men, a moment of true standstill.” (von Humboldt 1836b: 184)

Linguists draw a comparison (which could also be expanded to fit humans) that languages only become static when they stop being used. These are then considering “dead” languages. People are very much the same.

Even the most obstinate toddler (not that I have any experience with those) is constantly being exposed to new information and experiences. They are a bundle of new patterns and changes.

When we stop our continually blazing thoughts, when we stop learning and growing, we reach a mental standstill. We become our own dead language. Something other people have little use for, except maybe a passing curiosity.

The standstill is akin to death in this mental metaphor, which translates well to the physical realm. In grappling sports constant motion is required to set up an technique. Being at a standstill is a surefire way to get beat, or worse, injured.

In endurance sports a standstill is the classic sign of defeat. Haunched over, heaving, hands on knees, halted. The picture of an athlete who cannot progress any further that day.

Von Humboldt’s words are beautiful, and I think they are accurate. It seems with any judgement of people (and language for that matter too) it becomes necessary to add a caveat. An asterisk.

Never is a powerful word. An absolute. One that begs no argument. Humans, and language, can only find themselves at a true standstill of their own accord. When they fail to forge forward along the path, is when they die literally or metaphorically.

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

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.

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.

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

A Thousand Ones

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Debt

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog.  I wrote a few weeks back about Pappyland, a book following the van winkle family and their generational story through the booming bourbon market.  The writing even after just a small snippet struck such a chord with me that I bought the book and could hardly put it down.  After finishing it, I wanted to share my thoughts especially as they fit in with the overarching themes of the blog.

Whright Thompson spends a few years researching the book getting to know Julian Van Winkle, the bourbon industry as well as the family’s complicated history.  The story follows four generations from “pappy”, Julian’s grandfather, all the way to Julian’s son Preston, who is learning at his father’s side.

Thompson weaves his own relationship with his father as well as his journey towards becoming a new father into the novel which becomes more about family than it does about bourbon.

“Meeting with Julian and making him talk about his family made me ask myself the same question I’d been asking him: What did I owe my late father? What did I owe a grandfather I never met? What is demanded of a son or a daughter? What was demanded of me?”

Both Julian and Wright’s fathers died of illness before their time.  Both sons felt the weight not only of the loss, but of the pressure to live up to family expectations. To succeed and press on in ways that the previous generation was unable to, for one reason or another.

The idea of raising a child, makes you reflect on those questions.  If you are fortunate enough, and live in enough comfort to be introspective, having all of your needs met, you inevitably owe a debt to your parents.  One that I’m not sure can ever be repaid.

Even if that debt is never tabulated, called in, or otherwise made tangible, it exists. It is an unspoken calling across generations to fulfill potential. To create, and affect, and change, hopefully in a positive and lasting way some part of this world.

In the acknowledgements Thompson writes to his young daughter telling her “let me save you some soul searching: you don’t owe me anything”. He goes on to say that he loves her unconditionally and that the book is for her.

I love his work, and I am inspired by it. Especially as I tackle my own literary project. Still, I think he misses the mark.  After his deep and moving coverage of the VanWinkle family, it seems to.me there is always some form of generational debt.

The unconditional love and the debt are not mutually exclusive.  If your parents did right by you, whatever their faults and failings may be, a debt is owed. It may not even be payable to them. It may be payable to yourself. But, a debt is owed.

My own feeble attempt then, to answer those questions. 

Mom and Dad, I cannot thank you enough for the foundation you laid for me, and especially now for my family.  There are lessons that are poignant in my mind, that I feel obliged to pass on.  Traditions and relationships that I vow to maintain.  An idea, of a fulfilled life that I will strive towards. These are the things I feel are demanded of me as a son.

Speedy and El Duderino, you are loved unconditionally.  Your mother and I will support you to the best of our abilities in your endeavors.  But you owe a debt, mostly to yourselves, but in a small part to us.  To try, to engage, to grow, to explore and experience. In short, to live a life with purpose.

These are broad strokes intentionally. There are innumerable paths you both may choose. Following any of those paths in earnest, with intention, grace, and maybe even a touch of serenity, will clear any debt that may be owed.

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

Race day

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. This past weekend was my first foray back into longer distance triathlon since having kids and I wanted to share some of my experience.

Let me start by saying it is difficult to adequately express the range of emotions that pop up over the 5:48 it took me to cover the 70.3 miles.

There are lows of despair, pain, and self doubt, followed by bouts of confidence and elation. The smallest and most insignificant detail can move you from one end of the spectrum to the other, and right back again just as quickly.

Nobody likes swimming with company.  Biking and running with friends is great, swimming with friends really just means getting groped and kicked.  Even with the rolling start (which was way better than IM FL in 2013) the swim was more of a contact sport than desired.

I’m very grateful for a safe bike experience both training and racing. Seeing some of my fellow athletes bloodied and road rashed, or worse is a reminder of how fortunate I am to have avoided major accidents despite all the miles put in.

It also reinforces my decision to train almost exclusively indoors on the bike.  With a smart trainer and zwift, my biking is more efficient (in terms of not needing to load up and load out and drive to a safer road to ride). It is also way more diverse in terms of ability to climb, sprint, and ride different simulated terrain and topography.

I felt very prepared for the bike course with only indoor training, but it was a refreshing reminder of why I love to ride my bike. The cool December Florida temperatures (at least for the bike leg) paired with the rolling hills, rural roads, and orange groves, made for a picturesque Sunday morning ride. There were more than few instances out on the bike course where I found myself smiling, lost in the gentle mechanical hum of the chain through the cogs.

There is a simple and efficient exchange that happens on the bike that is magical. Human power goes in and locomotion comes out, but some of that majesty can be lost when looking at a power meter and a virtual world. The wind rushing past the ear scoops of my way too serious looking aero helmet, brought all that majesty back very quickly.

By mile forty seven on the bike course, after north of three hours of racing already, the gentle rolling hills and orange groves seemed much less enchanting as my legs started to fatigue and the new asphalt gave way to roads that can be best described as a taint jackhammer. It is a glamorous sport, you just need the right words to describe it.

The race start was delayed an hour due to morning fog, which was a good call, but it meant the run would be done in the heat of the day, even for the fastest athletes. My slightly better than .idle of the pack pace was no exception. Add in unseasonably warm temperatures for Florida in December, and the half marathon was set up to be a trip through the pain cave.

There is a surge of energy that happens in transition. Our senses are naturally enhanced by change, as an evolutionary trait, so the bike to run change brings not only a sense of completion and accomplishment, but also a much needed shot of adrenaline. That wears off far too quickly as you realize you have 13 miles to run with more uphill than you realized.

A two loop run course is wonderful for spectators and logistics, but it is a cruel mistress. The exit is always close, the self inflicted punishment can stop whenever you want it to. This is a silly thing to do to yourself anyway, why run another lap?

A shot from a friendly neighbor’s hose, the ice cubes melting into sweet relief down your back, a kind word from a fellow masochist, can all give you the push you need to keep moving forward.

The run course wound in an out of neighborhoods, doubling back on itself, in a way that made me frustrated and delirious. Those same rolling hills that seemed so enchanting just a few hours ago, rose up like a rock wall, shimmering in the Florida sun.

Wanting to quit, wanting to jump for joy, wanting a beer, these are all things I had felt before in varying intensity at different races. What I hadn’t felt was my ability to be a father after that kind of effort.

Above and beyond triathlon, the extra gear and the endurance that I have when I see those two smiling faces, is something that I wish I knew how to train, but I’m glad it comes naturally. Being able to take my kids to the playground and the pool, and run around the house with them after the race means regardless of my finishing time, my training was right on point.

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

Misogi

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. I try to write weekly, so this would have been for the week of Nov 28-Dec 4, one week out from IM FL 70.3. because life often gets in the way it’s being written on Dec 9, three days till race day.

Despite being a notoriously braggadocious group, I have never heard a pilot claim to have a perfect check ride. There is always some small detail, or some overlooked aspect that could have been performed better.

I think the same is true of triathletes, runners, and cyclists. Even after winning an event, beating a goal time, or setting a new PR (personal record), there is always some aspect of the race or the preparation that could have gone better.

Neurologically, when we stress our body, especially the type of heightened stress that comes with the fast speeds and hyper focus of racing, all the details of the event get imprinted onto our memories. The same neural pathways are triggered when flashing lights, bells and whistles start going off while moving hundreds of miles per hour across the ground in a metal tube.

This is an evolutionary trait that helps us learn from what were typically life or death encounters in our ancient past. Hunting to feed your family, escaping a predator, traversing a difficult landscape to find shelter, all fit the bill.

Where those types of events might have happened somewhat regularly to our ancestors, it is relatively easy to avoid that kind of stress and discomfort in today’s society especially if you are above the poverty line in the U.S.

Enter Misogi. (You can read more about it here) An ancient Japanese practice that originated with a myth and has been adapted to a modern concept of challenge. The idea is to pick a challenge for yourself once a year that tests your physical and mental limits. A challenge that you don’t know if you can actually complete.

Part of the thought process is that you don’t know where the end of your potential lies unless you push up to the failure point. Part of the magic is that the neural imprinting from such a challenge stays with you long after you cross the finish line, or don’t for that matter too.

While I’ve finished a full Ironman triathlon, and finished a few half Ironman distance races, this one feels a little different. For starters I haven’t raced this long of a course since before I had kids. My priorities and responsibilities at home, and my time and ability to train are all drastically different than they were when I crossed the line at IM FL almost a decade ago.

Despite wrestling in hundreds of matches and grappling for closing in on 30 years, I still get butterflies in my stomach before ever match. I’ve been racing for less than half that time, and I get butterflies at the starting line too.

I’m sure when I’m on the beach at Lake Eva state park in just a few days I will have butterflies for the trial that lies ahead. Right now I have the thought of Misogi, a challenge with an uncertain outcome, that lingers in my head.

Like an old friend who has perhaps overstayed his welcome, the excitement of the challenge along with the uncertainty and doubt have become an unwelcome guest, but one that I cannot force to leave before the time has come.

I’m nervous and excited. I’m proud that my boys will be able to share this challenge with me, even in some small way, and I hope that one day I can share challenges of theirs with uncertain outcomes.

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

Tools

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. This week I came across an interesting article on language and tool use that fits in well with my research, as well as the topics that we cover here.

The article appeared in the journal Science and the study by Thibault et al. examines the neural patterns that are activated by syntax and tool use.

The scientists used functional magnetic resonance imaging to measure neural activity during a series of experiments. One set of experiments tested participants during tool use, using manual actions as a control. The other experiment tested participants on a linguistic task with complex syntactic structures.

The tool experiment had participants using mechanical pliers to insert small pegs into different holes. The syntax experiment had participants read complex sentences and then answer questions. An example provided was “The scientist whom the poet admires writes an article”. They then had to judge statements such as “The poet admires the scientist” as being true or false.

The experiment showed that the same area of the brain, the basal ganglia, was activated, and activated in similar ways, by both the tool use as well as the language task.

The researchers then performed a similar experiment on a new group of participants where they participated in a linguistic task, then a motor task, and then a linguistic task again. The control group either watched an unrelated video or performed manual task with their hands in between linguistic tasks.

The experimental group showed a significant improvement on the second linguistic task, performed after tool use, as compared to the control group.

The theory is that enhanced neural priming and neural plasticity increased linguistic ability in the second test since (as mentioned from the first part of the study) the same area of the brain is used in both tool use and language use.

This strikes me as not only interesting in the many different ways it can be (more on that here), but also as a wonderful segue into one of my favorite sayings and a lesson I learned from my father. Having the right tool for the job makes all the difference.

Anyone who has ever worked construction, engaged in any sort of DIY or home improvement project, or even just arts and crafts with the kids knows having the right tool can make all the difference. And, while it is possible to get the job done without the most suitable tool, it is often more cumbersome, clunky, and challenging than it needs to be.

In the case of our experiment, tools and language are interchangeable, (at least if you are measuring brain function by fMRI) so we end up with having the right word for the job makes all the difference. The job of course being an effective exchange of ideas and intention.

Another favorite saying on this blog (that I picked up from an AP Chemistry teacher) is that taxonomy is important. Words are important. Having the right word, and being able to use the right word is a critical part of being able to effectively express your ideas.

This blog has been a way for me to increase the size of my linguistic toolbox (along with many other benefits I get out of writing). Reading and research (especially research since academics are often harder to understand than lawyers) also help expand my toolbox.

One of my first blog posts was about receiving a toolbox as a gift from my father and not appreciating it until years later. I hope that I can gift both of my boys with both physical as well as linguistic toolboxes, so that they always have the right tool for the job be it communication or manual.

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

Power Curve

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. This last week has been all about getting over the case of the cooties as a family, and it reminded me of an old aviation lesson.

Learning how to fly is both art and science. You can learn and apply without getting too deep into the math and engineering side if you are so inclined, but where is the fun in that.  For me, the math and science made it real and added to my ability to process the phenomena I was experiencing in the plane.

One of those phenomena is the aircraft’s position at any given time along the power curve.  The power available curve (or thrust available curve, the difference is important but beyond the scope of today’s discussion) is relatively straight forward. The engine is capable of producing different amounts of maximum power based on engine specifications as well as environmental factors like temperature, pressure, and altitude.

The power required curve is a combination of the different types of drag that the aircraft must overcome based on its particular flying conditions. Some drag is based on pure speed, some is based on how much lift is produced.

When both curves are graphed together (power required vs power available) the image is a power envelope. This envelope allows us to determine scenarios (in this case environmental and airspeed) and how much excess power the aircraft has. How much more power it is capable of producing than what it needs.

Notice at a certain point in the graph, it actually requires more power, (and significantly more power for that matter) to fly a slower airspeed. This is denoted on the graph as the region of reversed command and is also known as flying behind the power curve.

Behind the power curve, is where I found myself in recovery from the cooties. I wasn’t moving as fast, or getting as much done, but It felt like I needed way more power to do it. I was moving a lot slower, but my engine felt like it was closer to red line than it ought to have been.

As the week progressed, I started to move out of the region of reverse command and get back ahead of the power curve. My power envelope and “excess power” expanded for things like resuming training and the extra attention and patience that El Duderino and Speedy often demand.

Obviously the cooties were a significant environmental factor that put me behind the power curve, but I was thinking about other times I felt that way. Whether it was the Doldrums, over training, poor dietary choices, jealousy, anxiety, nervousness or any of the other negative emotions that can drain excess power.

There are lots of ways to put ourselves behind the power curve, and while an aircraft can and will fly there, it isn’t the most efficient or the most comfortable place to fly. It is important to understand how and why to operate behind the power curve, and it is just as important to know how to get back out in front of it.

I’m thankful I was able to support my family and recover while on the backside of the power curve. And I’m even more thankful to be back on the other side and back to pushing up the power.

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