Tag: canadian athlete

laughable

Certain recent global pandemics that shall remain nameless shook things up a lot. If an understatement exists, surely it was the one I just made.

Mixed into the barrage of things we all had to roll with whether we liked it or not; were a couple things that a good number of people I’ve talked to recently actually miss about the inappropriately termed ‘lock-down’ time. The most consistently cited was the slower pace of daily life.

<sarcasm> y’think??? </sarcasm>

I’ll start by quickly assessing and then pushing aside the fact that it wasn’t actually the slower pace of the pandemic that appealed to us, but rather that the break-neck speed of e-commerce and the never-sleeping algorithm forever parting us with our money in exchange for temporary amusements is not a pace that the human body was ever designed to endure, nor was our collectively exhausted brain – and now that the aforementioned break-neck speed has resumed, a great number of people are resounding in wonderful rebellious chorus: fuck this.

I don’t remember the exact point at which I stumbled across a meme informing me that “it’s ok to stop mainlining cable news” and my respect for meme-culture, if that is indeed a thing, shifted.

Between my conscious decision to stop watching new news; having determined that anything truly important will be brought to my attention either directly or indirectly, and the more recent advent of news outlets being forbidden from posting directly to Facebook (because Facebook refused to pay them for their stories being shared… which is another fun discussion for another day), I am happy to say that the fear machine, in my world, has been cut off at the knees.

As a member of the adult, caucasian male demographic in North America in 2023, and a fervent self-analyzer, I can assure you that most of our decision making is based in one thing: Fear. It’s for this reason that I’m elated to have these reach of these news outlets curtailed significantly, even if it means they might sink to some desperate depths in order to retain Canadian readership.

My observation is that in order to unite any number of people is through connection on a common emotional level. It’s spiritual in nature, because it’s subtle and personal. On a small and positive scale, it’s what unites young couples – the sharing of stories and laughing together; laughing of course being one of the few expressions of self that is socially acceptable. The sharing of tears has a similar effect, but it more acceptable in settings such as bible studies and addiction recovery meetings, or occasionally in a movie theatre where Schindler’s List of some similarly heartbreaking film is being watched, as it’s heartbreak that crosses all personal boundaries. The imagination is triggered in most cases and a relatable experience may come to mind, cascading the emotion – which is why when you’re laughing, the cracking of another joke can make you laugh harder, even if it wasn’t as funny. A shared sadness can have a similar effect, but generally speaking people find these feelings uncomfortable, and avoid these scenarios.

The same emotional connection is made when a feeling of fear is shared, except without the obvious jubilation that a shared laugh brings about. Fear is more humbling and subduing because of it’s negative nature, so when fear is broadcast and shared, it has a sweeping effect as it; too, triggers the imagination and causes a cascade of negative emotion. What is even more problematic about fear is that we as humans tend to fixate on it.

I’ve heard this described as an evolutionary trait, wherein once upon a time, our primitive ancestors might be foraging for food miss something helpful and nourishing such as a fruit tree because they were more concerned with the presence of snakes lurking in the grass. Seeing the snake would be more important to survival than eating an apple or a pear in that moment, so attention to the negative is crucial in times of stress for this generation of ancestors. Eons later, we live under constant stress and anxiety to the point of physical fatigue… but this age-old trait is apparently why we have such trouble looking away from car accidents, too.

So, to have the presence of this fear reduced dramatically will ideally make more room for the sharing of laughter and tears, and connecting with each other on an emotional and spiritual level – the kind of connection we were truly missing through the pandemic (and I would argue much further back than that). Meaningful connection through the sharing of stories, and the spoken word is absolutely crucial to our existence as a species and as a group of individuals, because we quite honestly share more commonality than difference.

It’s fear that serves to categorize and label us. Not love.

I recently drove between opposing sides of an issue – a protest and a counter-protest, held on opposite sides of the street on my route to work. It was big, and people were still just arriving at the time I was passing through. Upon exiting the protest/counter-protest gauntlet, I came to witness a couple walking up to a cross-walk wearing traditional religious garb small-talking with a couple of; and I use the term lovingly, blue-haired freaks. It was fairly clear that both couplets were destined for opposite sides of the street to address the issue at hand, but they appeared to be walking together, and being cordial and polite despite the impending discord.

It made me think about both sides of the issue, and how quickly political and societal issues would be resolved if each side saw the other side for who they are: people… doing their best.

the price of admission

“The first step; a frequently cited trope, is admitting you have a problem…”

On September 9th, 2023, I accomplished a personal first. I attended a gathering of people who I am simultaneously happy to see, and wish I didn’t have to see; however, we’re united by a common struggle.

The first step; a frequently cited trope, is admitting you have a problem, and although walking through the door of my first 12-Step meeting is an experience that echoes off the walls of my subconscious like some clanging gong – abrupt, and disarming, I have to say that the impetus for actually going has been a slow-moving yet still unstoppable growth, like mound of shit built by lazy insects. In essence, It’s taken a long time to get here, but I’ve known I would eventually arrive for some time now.

Yes, I admit I have a problem…

It’s probably the far reaching arm of my ego preventing me from actually putting a name to this problem – I thought I checked my ego at the door, but it still seems to be peering in at me – it’s hard to articulate your propensity for shoveling cookie dough into your mouth with a spoon, or your insatiable love of pop-tarts while attempting to put words together that don’t make you appear completely foolish.

I’m a poetic and a romantic – why can’t I come up with a better word for this problem? Ohhhh… right – it’s because it’s actually not fucking cool… and in this room you’re not fucking cool… and in the presence of these people – these honest and vulnerable and hopeful people, your “out there in the world” coolness factor means precisely nothing. In this room, you are the complete and total embodiment of embarrassment and humility, and you are sitting in a circle with other people who are the same… so no, there’s no fun word for this, so the narrative goes as follows:

Member of the groups: “My name is ___ and I am a(n) ___.”
The rest of the group: “Welcome.”

The “Mad Lib” answer-key version of this is: “Dave” and “I don’t really know, but I know I have a fucked up relationship with food, and I use it to cope with my problems” before I give a coles notes sample of how I inadvertently caused myself an extra 20 minutes of work while doing a home-renovation project and rather than doing the 20 minutes of work, I consumed a couple thousand calories while trapped in some strange, feckless trance – likely for longer than the aforementioned 20 minutes, but in the end I still had to do the extra work I caused myself, so it was a fruitless endeavor.

I’ve transferred my compulsion numerous times in my 41 years of walking around on this planet… but my first fascination was with food, and after I systematically pushed all the bad habits out of my life, I was left with my first love – and the only one I couldn’t truly abstain from: Food. I have other distractions… fitness, my car, music… and they do help me cope with life, but they’re not unmanageable compulsions that have driven me to negotiate terms with a higher power.

I tell my story with a hint of mist in my eyes because I don’t even like remembering it. I’d love to forget it and fill it’s place with music, or art, or some brilliant reflection of what life is supposed to be but instead I have this story – an insignificant blip, and a weak example of why I am really here, but these are strangers and I’m not ready to let them in yet… and when I’m done speaking, I look up from spot on the floor I was staring at – just beyond my left shoe as it cradles my right shoe on the end of my outstretched legs – and rather than seeing judging, laughing faces, I am met with nodding heads and appreciative smiles.

My story ends; as I tell it, in a rather strange place where any other group of people would keep waiting for the resolve, or some calamitous punchline, is instantly relatable in this room. I don’t just feel seen, I feel understood.

As an aside, Today marks 1 calendar year since my last alcoholic drink. I can’t say I was ever counting the days, but I will say this: You can do whatever you want to do, and if it helps you to align yourself with your purpose then you should probably start now if you haven’t already.

Much love.

step back

“I know for a fact that the blessing outweigh the curses, but I certainly have a propensity for focusing on what I don’t have, and even worse – what I don’t have anymore.”

I’ve spent a bit of time taking inventory of what I’ve got – not so much with material things, though that’s been happening a bit, too – but with the more intangible blessings and curses. I know for a fact that the blessing outweigh the curses, but I certainly have a propensity for focusing on what I don’t have, and even worse – what I don’t have anymore.

I imagine I’m not alone. I’ve heard it described as an evolutionary trait from previous iterations of survival, where we focus on the more dangerous and threatening things more than we do the gracious and joyous where, for example, we might overlook something as nice and inviting as a fruit tree while focusing on venomous snakes, because as wonderful as a fruit tree is, missing it won’t kill you the way a venomous snake might. Chemically, we would be on high alert, triggering what we now commonly call our ‘fight or flight response’ upon observing such a threat.

This is problematic now, as we’re constantly in a state of fight or flight due to the stresses of everyday life – work, money, rush hour traffic, etc. – causing us to contend with; among other things, stress and anxiety – which is literally the body’s response to being in a heightened state for far too long. This means that even those of us who wouldn’t necessarily refer to ourselves as anxious or stressed out are still in a heightened state most of the time, that stress just manifests differently.

The commonality for all of us; though, is a focus on the negative.

But to step back and take an objective look at what we have going on is not only difficult, and not only important, but also relieving. The truth is that everything is amazing. Alone, the fact that most of us walk around with the combined information of the known universe in our pockets is an incredible feat. Myself; I have a lovely home, and beautiful girlfriend and an amazingly smart kid, and a wonderful dog. I play in a great rock & roll band and I drive a cool car, I have a cool job. I get tattoos from incredible artists and have been to exotic locations… yet for some reason all that takes a back seat when I get a toothache, or when one of our bicycles gets stolen… or when I don’t like the number on the bathroom scale.

What are you grateful for? That’s a question we’re met with every morning, before we even have opportunity to scrape the crud from our eyes, and it truly sets the tone for the day. Sure, we get pulled off course from time to time, but in the grand scheme it’s of little consequence when we stop to really evaluate what we have.

It’s always easier said than done, but it’s an important, objective look at where you’re at – and as soon as you can do that with regularity, all the while understanding that you can’t control anything except your reaction… then you’ve really got something.

the most happy

“The revelation hasn’t been “you were happier when you were leaner” because I know that’s superficial bullshit. The truth of the matter is that challenging myself physically brings joy into my life.”

When were you the most happy with your appearance? Chances are decent that you didn’t know it at the time.

I suffer from a bit of body dysmorphia. That’s obviously a self diagnosis, and I’m inclined to downplay it a bit because I’m fairly certain that most of us have a touch of it. I recently stumbled across some old shirtless pictures of myself – no, not the old fat guy pictures, the ones from last year and the year before when I was training for triathlon and rolled that training into a half-marathon run.

What I saw at that time was problematic flab, negligible as it was.
What I see now is that my transformation was truly incredible. Needless to say I’m no longer in that kind of shape, but I can honestly say I’m not far off. I’m less than 15 lbs heavier now, and I am that way because of how hard I was training at the time and I’m certain that a bunch of that weight is muscle. Ultimately the difference between 192 lbs and 180 lbs is not much.

So I opted to dig into what kind of gym efforts I was doing at those times, and how much I was eating, what my protein sources were – everything. I changed my diet a while back to see what would happen, and shortly thereafter some heavy emotional stuff came my way that knocked me off course a bit. I began training less, and with less intensity because my attention was needed elsewhere, and I began eating less because I wasn’t training as hard… so I’m elated to say that my weight hasn’t fluctuated due to poor diet – it’s holding steady, really… but not at a place I would like it to hold steady, necessarily.

All in all, I’m feeling the pull back toward my disciplined morning practice, my purpose-driven workout regime and my optimized diet, and have been making great strides in pursuit of that.

The revelation hasn’t been “you were happier when you were leaner” because I know that’s superficial bullshit. The truth of the matter is that challenging myself physically brings joy into my life. I would like to reclaim that. The thing I see in the mirror now that I don’t like isn’t just pudge… it’s the reflection someone who knows he can do more.

What I’ve learned about happiness is this: Accomplishing tasks will not make you happy. Whatever your level of happiness was when you took on the challenge will be the same after you accomplish the task. You have to be happy where you are if you want to be happy where you’re going.

So I know fine-tuning my body won’t make me happy.
Trying my best, and living with purpose, though… that’s another thing.

The joy you have at the top of the mountain is the joy you bring with you.

on the train

I have not been training as hard this summer as last summer… and it took a while, but I’m fine with it. This summer I worked on my car, painted a couple rooms in my house, and took on various construction projects at home… not to mention a new job and a few gigs… songwriting… some family things… and yes, even some training.

Completing a good number of things things I’ve done have brought about a sense of accomplishment, but that sense of accomplishment is fleeting. I recently heard an interview with Light Watkins wherein he states that the level of happiness you are feeling right now is the same level you will feel after completing a task – and it resonated with me very clearly because I know exactly what that means. To tackle a problem is great – but another problem will soon obstruct you, and the only way you can truly increase your happiness is to pursue your purpose.

So yes, it was a great summer, but I am back on the training train – and if I’m completely honest, part of why I am okay with not training so hard through the summer is because I am back to it now, to the degree that brings me the most joy.

That’s not to say that training is my purpose, but training does bring about an alignment of values – of heart, soul, and mind – and conditions me to be at my best physical shape when I am realizing my purpose. My actual purpose is one of service in the arts, but if I am polluted and out of shape, I will inevitably short-change the recipients of that service, be it at my day job or in my songwriting and performance career.

All in all, It feels so good to have reclaimed my routine of endurance, even if it has cost me part of my evening routine by way of an early bedtime… sorta. (it will once the lack of sleep catches up with me).

I have a full life, with great hobbies and great people in my life – but if I am not at my best, then I cannot give my best, and nobody wants the fractional version of me.

the gears

I’m at a point where someone who had my trust lost it, and wants it back. It’s a truly strange time of life, because typically when these things happen there are a lot of feelings involved, and a reluctance to want to put yourself in the line of fire a second time – but at this time in my life, and in my unique relationship with this person, I want to enthusiastically give that trust back.

There are a few reasons that this is different, but the primary reason I want to give the trust back is: service.

I’m in a position of leadership, and contrary to what most people think when they think of leadership, leading is a service and I want this person to know that holding back trust serves no one. I want to give them that and I want them to give it in the future, because when someone wrongs you or breaks your trust and is truly remorseful over it, that remorse is a greater teacher than I can ever be. There’s no need to “give ’em the gears” when they’ve given themselves the gears, it is not help for them, and it certainly does me no good to put someone through the rigors of gaining my satisfaction in their pain.

Forgiveness and sorrow are not what I thought they were. When I am sorry, it is because I have sorrow – and when I forgive, it’s not because I am satisfied with the level of atonement someone else has reached – I forgive so that the person asking forgiveness can let themselves off the hook for what they’ve done. I am telling them they can stop punishing themselves.

Now, I did not conclude this overnight.

These things do take time, and I’ll never say they don’t – but I will say that they shouldn’t take longer than necessary. We can too easily use guilt as leverage for control over one another, which becomes nefarious overtime. The last thing I want to be in anyone’s life is the villain, so I strive to be a positive entity – One who serves the situation and the person.

So when they are truly ready, I must also be ready.

one hundred

“This is my 100th post. I never really imagined what this blog would become… “

This is my 100th post. I never really imagined what this blog would become… originally I just set out to write a little around training for a triathlon and working to be a better person… but I suppose time passes, too. I’m glad to still be writing, even though I often wonder what I should say that I haven’t said already, or how this will evolve.

I’m happy to have maintained the practice of writing this, and am happy for the other practices I’ve adopted along the way. Originally there was a video component that was a bit ambitious, and thus fizzled out after the triathlon in 2021 but I’m not opposed to reintroducing something a little more off-the-cuff at some point.

I did the things I wanted to do. Lu and I did the triathlon course, and I ran the half marathon last year. I’m moving into other fitness disciplines and working on my car. I’m not sure why I feel compelled to take an inventory of the last 2 years but if you’ve been reading along, you’ll know that I’m also a bit of a fan of the 12 step method of recovery, so here we are.

This blog has been side-line to a triathlon, a half-marathon, most of a pandemic, the writing and recording of an album, an amazing rekindling of relationship between myself and my environment AND between myself and my car, the entire life of my beautiful dog, and a couple of birthdays. Even as I write this my then-12 year old is creeping up on being a 15 year old, and my girlfriend hasn’t aged a day. In fact, her and I are both younger than we were when we started.

Who knows where this adventure will take us?

Thanks for reading along, and to the several of you who’ve weighed in – thank you especially.