Tag: canadian athlete

progression

I write a lot about progress. I wonder if it’s because on some subconscious level, I’m never where I want to be. I’ve read enough to know that the general consensus among spiritual gurus and self-help authors alike is that “in order to move forward, you must be happy where you are.“

I know. Right away I see the flaw in that line of thinking… “If I am happy where I am, I won’t want to go in any direction, even forward,” except that movement is not an option – it’s mandatory. We are always moving. There is no staying still, because even if you were to stay still, the world would pass you by.

They say you can never step in the same river twice – not only because the water is moving, but because you are always in a state of flux and growth. The only thing we can do is recall memories, and even those are fairly random, and viewed through the lense of someone who’s progressed beyond that moment.

Such is the case with training.

I have shirtless progress photos of myself from 3 years ago, and at the time I was building to something, toning and training and chiseling away at a physique that; now, as I look back, was there the whole time. And as hard as I train, as long as I run, and as heavy as I lift, I can’t go back there because I have to live here, and now.

The reality is that here, and now, I am stronger than that former version of myself that I often envy. My muscles are bigger, my chest is broader, my stamina is better and my determination is stronger, my nutrition is more in-tune – so then why do I continually focus my gaze on the extra fat that my torso and thighs carry when I am so much more advanced in other ways? Why do I focus on the parts I don’t like?

And even while focusing on this singular attribute that I have decided is negative, I know I am happier than before. Beyond what I’ve listed already, my mind is stronger and more determined, my experiences are more vast, my relationships are further along, and the people in my life are older and wiser, too. And as I carry on, so will all of these things… and that little layer of fat will take care of itself in time, because I am diligent, and determined… and there is no finish line, or off-season.

I need to give myself a break.
Just today.
But tomorrow… I go for a long run.

acceleration

I’m back on my training bullshit. Sorry, not sorry.

When everywhere you look, you see people sliding into complacency with their brains and their physical bodies, whipping yourself into shape is an act of rebellion. Endurance sport is punk rock, despite the chosen attire worn by runners. I don’t make the rules.

I let my endurance training slide over the winter in exchange for a more aggressive weightlifting routine and the results are in. I am broader-chested and slightly bigger all around in both the desired ways and the undesired ways. That is to say, I’m cutting now… and I’m cutting hard. I’m currently averaging between 19 & 24 kms per week, 3-4 days per week, and lifting weights twice per week still. I’m also cycling wherever possible, which will include trips to the studio, as well as other mud-laden adventures though the river valley.

Spring came early, so I’m on bonus time and I’m seizing every opportunity.

I got a smart watch last year. A Garmin forerunner, which is great for multisport, and I’m working through a program that adapts to my weekly & monthly progress and sets challenges for me the following week. It monitors heartrate, sleep score, energy expenditures through the day… ultimately it’s the first plausible use for artificial intelligence I’ve actually come across, by way of a digital personal trainer.

My target event, at this point, is the Edmonton Marathon race day. I’ve told it that I’m training for the half marathon, but I haven’t yet told myself that. I suppose I have no reason not to do it other than the fact that races are hard. I’m still mulling that over, I guess.

All that aside, I’ve recently turned a corner in my physique. My body is getting to my desired shape & form, and I’m able to do some pretty amazing things in regards to distance and endurance.

It’s having a positive influence on my writing and composition as a musician and creator as well. I’m consistently writing meaningful and thoughtful pieces of music and poetry that are taking shape as songs that may one day see the light of day. It’s amazing to watch these things come about in front of me.

It’s a real testament to feeding my brain and my body the good stuff they require in order to get the desired result. Good, clean, plant-based foods and thoughtfully written books and songs, balanced with the time required to process and digest all of it. Add sunlight & water.

It’s like taking care of a plant.
I am a plant.
Hopefully I bear fruit.

aging

I turn 43 this year.
Actually, I turn 43 this weekend.
Tomorrow.
Star Wars day.

43

Ultimately I’m good with it. I’m not in the shape I was in when I turned 40 and ran a triathlon, but I am on an upward swing in that regard. I’d love to spend more time in the pool and round out my tri-sport fantasies once again, but the advent of a fresh tattoo about 6 weeks ago, followed by another tattoo appointment this coming week keeps me on dry land. Submerging fresh tattoos is a good way to get an infection. But… That’s okay. Running and biking are filling my early mornings in the same way creative endeavours seem to fill my evenings.

43

I’m in the early stages of making another great record with The Confusionaires, I have a busy summer ahead of me with festival performances, long runs, sweaty bike rides, rock & roll recording sessions, and a couple of quick trips out of town with the family if fortune smiles down on us before the snow flies again. Summers are so fuckin’ short here.

43

When my daughter was born, and I was 26 years old, I recall doing the math and determining that I’d be 44 when she turns 18. That’s still true. It’s true every time I check, and the math gets easier each time… that’s a year from now, but it might as well be now. She’s grown up well, and smart, and strong. She has ambition that surpasses me at that age. I’ve very proud of her. She’ll be 17 this summer (obviously) and although she’s not done turning into the person she’s going to be, I can tell that person is going to be awesome. We got matching tattoos last month – an honour I share with no one else, and one I don’t take lightly.

43

I’m 43 tomorrow. Where does the time go? Well, I know where my 20s and early 30s went. Kinda. They’re hazy and were largely fuelled by intoxicants. Not sure how I lucked my way into finding my girlfriend. We’ve been together for 14 years or so. Like I said… hazy. She’s great, and has either joined me or guided me on several journeys that led both of us to places we’d never imagined… like veganism. She’s just begun a sabbatical of sorts, as she’s between vocations and has found herself with a month off before starting a new job. Having her around is pretty great. I think I’ll keep her for another 14 years.

43

I don’t know where this leads.
Wherever it’s supposed to, I guess.
But wherever that is, I hope they allow dogs.

machines

It’s early in the year, to be certain. Too early to be dragging hotrods out of the barn, if you ask me… tempting such fate results in heartbreak, and I’m not about tempt the gods, thereby inviting a freak snowstorm. If that happens, it won’t be my fault.

The old fairlane needs a bath, and some love, as 63-year-old cars typically do. I leaned on that car pretty hard last year, but having a good modern vehicle certainly prolongs the enjoyment of working on my fairlane. Last year was a bit tense… when I worked on that car, it was with purpose – I needed it to get to work. This year will be different, as each drive will be special and calculated. Each upgrade will be purposeful, and calculated. None of the work I’d intended to do over the winter got done. Not a damn thing. That’s okay… these things are forgiving.

Maybe it’s not too early.
No, it is.
In this part of the world, any hotrod adventures before the May Long Weekend is done on borrowed time, and unfortunately for me, that particular long weekend in May is about when my summer festival season shows start to ramp up a bit.

What it’s not too early for, is my mountain bike.
I punished that thing last year, too.
It spent the winter in a state of functional disrepair. Rideable, but in need of parts. This is the time to sort my bike out, because once the pavement gets hot enough that you can smell it, the fairlane is going to usurp my time in the most beautiful way.

This is what I do when I’m not running or writing or rock & rolling.
Machines.
My bike. My car.

Also the dishwasher.

moral metrics

I’m not super into celebrity gossip, and I have curtailed my algorithm to omit bullshit that only serves to distract and upset – particularly that of foreign government action that I have no control over, even that of a vote that doesn’t count – but I am not impervious to world news.

Fairly big news in my world; and likely that of the recovery world, is that of disgraced-comedian-turned-podcaster-turned-hyper-religious-zealot, Russell Brand.

If you know me personally, or follow this blog, you know it’s out of character for me to discuss celebrities at all. I bring this one up because of the commentary I’ve seen from many of my more left-leaning friends because; and this comes with some speculation, it’s apparent to me that many people are delighting in his misery because of where he’s placed himself on the political spectrum as of late, even going so far as to insinuate that their taste in entertainment is somehow superior on some moral level.

As a fan of the music of Ryan Adams, allow me to assure you that there is no moral compass built into your artistic tastes. As a matter of fact, as both a connoisseur of the arts AND as a creator of the arts, that art is inherently fucked up, and largely created by somewhat fucked up people.

Make no mistake: I’m certainly not issuing an excuse for Russell Brand, who very likely did what he’s been accused of, and likely ducked & covered himself in sanctimonious Christian practices when he saw these accusations coming for him. What I’m saying is – you don’t know until you know… then you have to decide how to feel about it.

How do I feel about it, personally? Bummed.
Sad for the victims, and bummed about the situation.
Again… he very likely did it what he’s been accused of.
And no… I don’t resonate with a lot of what he’s been into lately… but before this, a few years back when his world view was less one-sided, and more worldly, I did.

He’s a great writer, super intelligent, and not so long ago he was ideological, and thoughtful, and his greatest contribution; a book called ‘Recovery: Freedom From Our Addictions’ may be one of the finest guides through the 12 steps to recovery ever committed to paper, and for that I will always be grateful. It’s unfortunate that his actions will prevent people from discovering this incredibly helpful piece of literature.

But what I know, and Russell Brand knows, is that it’s time for him to make amends. He needs to not only apologize, but atone for his deeds however the victim(s) and the powers that be see fit, and he needs to be grateful about the opportunity to do so.

My opinion bares nothing on that equation.

motivation

I’m motivated. And I’m inspired.

… but there’s something to know about inspiration and motivation, and that is that they are temporary. I am currently a little heavier than I want to be, and it’s a strange place to be because I ultimately chose it.

I don’t mean that in the sense that I ‘chose to eat a dozen cupcakes‘ but I did choose to put my endless cardio on the shelf for a bit so that I could focus on developing muscle, and the good news is that it worked. The bad news is, that when you eat more – yes, even healthy food – and lift more, muscle is not the only thing you gain… so it’s time to cut – and cut I shall.

I’ve been doing some HIIT training a couple times a week over the past couple months amid the heavy weightlifting, which has been great, but a few years ago I hit on something that I’m particularly good at (for better or worse) and that is jogging. I can run in Zone 2 (heart rate zone, that is) for swaths of time, to the point that at the end of February, I thought I’d just ‘see what I can do’ since it had been a while since I’d put in a long-ish run.
I ran 8km.
It took about an hour.
First run back after a winter of lifting weights.

I’m sure you can tell by the way I phrased that, but I’m happy with that. That’s essentially the pace I left off at when seasonal allergies took me out of the running game in the fall. I now do it 3 times a week… longer when I can, but really, between weight training 3 times per week and running 3 days per week, I’m pretty full-up.

It’s also as spiritual as it was before.
I’d almost forgotten how connected I feel to myself, and to my environment when I’m doing this – especially outside. To push myself closer to the ever-changing limit of what I am capable of is such a magical place. I’m not heading into the river valley just yet, because to fall on the ice is to endanger my artistic life, but I can’t wait.

I also have some light bike repair to complete before getting back into the mud on my mountain bike, but that’s coming soon, too.

I do everything I can to quell the winter blues, and ultimately I do a much better job of that than ever before, but that doesn’t mean that springtime isn’t massively optimistic time for me.

I’m so ready.

At this point I’m flirting with the idea of entering a race, but in the end what I really want to do is just run. Run for me. Do I need an event to stay on track? Not really. Would it be fun? Probably.

I guess I’ll have to see what my summer gig schedule looks like.

suffering from righteousness

I don’t get into worldly politics on here much, and I’m not going to start now for the simple fact that these are subject far too broad and far too deep to chock up to left vs right. That said, I’m sure you can gather from the hippy-dippy undertones of what I like to write about, in tandem with my arts background, penchant for animal rights, and various other indicators that my preferences lie more on the side what’s best for the group rather than what’s best for the individual.

That said, we can all be greedy. Greed may be one of the few things you can really count on in this day & age, because when someone is greedy, they are somewhat predictable.

When a war is declared over resource… oil, for example – we can anticipate that the aggressor is going to be very careful in their attack, in an effort to not destroy what they are after. Therefor, there are safe places for vulnerable people to seek refuge – near the refineries and storage facilities, in this case. Once the prize has been won, the aggressor will leave, and the affected country will rebuild. It may not seem like it, but these sorts of engagements have rules, and breaking those rules has repercussions.

A holy war, however… a war based in some perceived moral superiority, wherein the aggressor seeks to impose a genocide on an entire group of people over a difference of faith is another thing entirely. No one is safe, and no care is taken – if the goal is to wipe an entire demographic off the face of the planet, then there is no calculable loss to be concerned with. This is true terror.

There are examples of both throughout the ages, and we tend to downplay our own historical misgivings while pointing the finger at others. Nobody alive remembers the Napoleonic Wars, or the Crusades – both of which were brutal and long, and both of which have been given names that sound a lot nicer than they would have been to experience, as opposed to… say; The Holocaust.

War is an extreme case though, isn’t it?

On a more granular level we have people we know, who are not really in powerful enough positions to exact war on anyone else, but there are haters and there are abusers, and scaled down, their motivations are the same… and we see low-level efforts of both all around us.

Right now we’re witnessing our own families and friend groups engage in a form of nationalism as we shop Canadian to avoid paying unnecessary taxes to an overreaching foreign government. This isn’t a thing we should do out of spite, but a thing we should do in the spirit of support – something we should have been doing before, but now we have stronger reasons to do so. But I believe that the cause of our motivation matters. It’s important to remember that there are people on the other side of that international border who are hurting, and that although we can’t necessarily do anything to alleviate that hurt, that is who is over there.

There is no moral superiority.
We have all the same bullshit here as they do there.
And while we’re concerned with what their government is doing – a government that we can’t vote for or against, and have no say over what they do – we have our own governing bodies, and we should be concerned with what they are doing while we’re distracted by what’s going on over the fence.

That goes for an even closer-to-home look at things, as well. there are people in my own family whom I completely disagree with as far as lifestyle, initiative, what decisions they’re making. It’s easy for me to label them – and I often do – and it’s easy for me to write them off – and I often do – but hate and exploitation are pretty far off in the distance from where I am right now.

If they were to actually put forth an effort into improving their situation, I would help them.

The only thing holding me back is the notion that I cannot do it for them… and to force my ideals of what should and shouldn’t be is no better than condemning them for not doing things my way.

I guess what we’re talking about here, is grace.