Tag: vegan athlete

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.

diagnostics

I’m familiar with the concept of digging deep. Chances are pretty solid that if you read this blog semi-regularly that you are, too. We’re all just trying to do a little better, aren’t we?

That’s why whether I’m sourcing a peculiar noise coming from my ’62 fairlane or I’m trying to assess why I can’t run as far today as I could last week, I know that a certain amount of deconstruction is required – in some cases, the literal taking-apart of a machine in order to assess the internal issue, and often repair some damage before careful reassembly is done so that you can find out if your hunch was right or not, totally risking the fact that you might have to do it again in the event you were wrong (because after all, being wrong is part of learning).

I have 100% been there and I will 100% return there at some point, but I am also certain that I will be a better person for it. If I can’t come away from the situation without some nugget of knowledge to share, or compassion to extend to someone else who’s also struggling, then opportunity was lost in the process.

We’re not talking about cars anymore, are we?

Sure we are – but that logic extends beyond 60-year old steel. Beyond skin & bones & calories & deficits, and into our connection to each other as human beings. Sure, I’ll gravitate towards like-minded people with similar hobbies to myself but I’m not always sure I have any real influence on them. I’ll wonder if I am honestly enriching the lives of the people close to me, or do I have a better effect on people who don’t know me, and aren’t aware of my laundry list of flaws?

Sometimes this is referred to as ‘hometown prophet syndrome’ and I experience it as a musician constantly. I’ll always love playing shows on tour more than in my hometown, because my hometown has seen me at my busiest, most distracted, worst, drunkest, and most debaucherously defunct, whereas a few hours down the road, they know me as someone who’s always been good, always been present, and has never had a conflicting engagement keeping me away. I imagine that it’s for the same reason that my own kid will never really think I’m cool… that’s not my role.

I have no resolve for that, it’s more a steam of consciousness flowing out of my fingers as I sit here. I didn’t really even intend for this post to go in that direction – but I will continue to peel back the layers, and try to do better, and be better.

I suppose it doesn’t matter who I can help, as long as I can help.

the return spring

I recently replaced; among other things, the clutch in my 1962 Ford. It’s a very cool vehicle that’s endured a lot of misuse and abuse at the hands of it’s masters over the years – so this car & I have a lot in common. I love this car – I’m emotionally invested in it and after 13 years, I oughta be. vehicles of this vintage were intended to be worked on and I intend to work on this one, and although there’s really only one way to do most things on cars like this, there’s still a pretty generous margin for error and I’ve certainly spent some time there.

Replacing the clutch (…again) can be a big job. If you’re looking at your clutch, there’s a strong likelihood that you did a lot of work to get to a point where you could see it. I’ve seen mine a few times and it always involves multiple cuss words to access it.

The reason I was looking at it this time is because I killed my throw-out bearing. If you don’t know what that is, it’s what disengages the transmission from the engine temporarily so you can shift gears, and it does that every time you step on the clutch pedal. If there’s too much tension on it, it will keep pressing; albeit lightly, and cause undue wear & tear on the clutch components – those components we just did a lot of work to access. That said, if there’s not enough tension on ‘the return spring‘ that is responsible for re-engaging the transmission to the motor, then the throw-out bearing will; again, continue to press up against things it ought not be pressing up against – causing that very same kind of undue wear & tear.

Needless to say, my clutch had been out of adjustment for a long time, and the components burnt out. This is interesting to me as I do a lot of self analysis when I’m working on my car – my time in the garage is a reflective and contemplative time for me, and when I realized that things were set up to fail NOT because there was too much tension on a mechanism, but because there was not enough, I had a eureka moment in more than one way.

Yes, I solved the problem – or part of it, anyway. The rest was done through some routine adjustments that are akin to completing the job. A eureka moment, to be sure.

But the idea that a system was unsuccessful due to a lack of tension struck me as very interesting in a metaphor for life. We actually see this al the time – we know people who have said; or perhaps we’ve said it ourselves – if we don’t have a deadline, the task won’t get done. Any non-pressing task will inevitably get back-benched for time sensitive ones. We pay our bills on time because if we don’t, there’s a penalty. There are deadlines for homework assignments, grant applications, race trophies, showing up to work… quotas for tasks assigned… donation commitments… speed limits… final exams… meeting times… the list goes on and without some structure around both the ‘catching’ and the ‘releasing’ then nothing really works as intended.

We may not count these things as being particularly stressful because they come with the territory of making commitments – even fun commitments like going to a movie or meeting friends for dinner have some structure around them. It’s not until we’re over-extended, or too-tightly wound that we start failing to be able to keep up with even the most casual commitment, and our personal systems go into failure.

The lesson here is about striking balance, and setting ourselves up for success.

Everything I am doing, I am doing in order to get to my preferred destination, but if we’re not seeking balance in the meantime, we’re bound to break down before we ever arrive, and in includes an amount of tension as well as relief.

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.

easy does it

“I can actually be stubborn as an ox, when I choose to be – so I imagine it’s time to stop choosing to be.”

There’s nothing quite quite so humbling and self reflective as someone’s uninhibited criticism of you. Even when the emotion is removed, there are nuggets of truth, or at very least nuggets of perception – but even then, someone else’s perception of you is always the truth to them.

If someone is mean to me; especially if it happens on multiple occasions, it’s no stretch for me to conclude that the person in question is mean. The fact that other people love them and can be vulnerable and safe with them doesn’t change my perception. So, when I act the way I act and someone finds it smug or distasteful… well… I am those things.

I know I can’t govern how I’m perceived. I can only control my actions and reactions – so I naturally move forward with a newfound sensitivity to how I might be behaving – at least for a while – and in the meantime I try to create a new habit or a new outlook that is move loving and inclusive. It’s a tall order for an introvert such as myself but there’s no reason why I can’t learn this new behavior as an individual – after all, we as a society do this all the time. There are a lot of words and phrases that we’ve said that are no longer acceptable to say in polite company. We collectively gave our heads a shake and made some improvements.

My issues are more behavioral though. I know I can come on a bit strong and I’m pretty hard to argue with on certain topics – but I can learn to have a little more grace. I can actually be stubborn as an ox, when I choose to be – so I imagine it’s time to stop choosing to be. The last thing I ever want to do is make an enemy out of a friend, or negatively impact someone’s life so badly that they consciously decide to run hard in the opposite direction, not only physically but spiritually.

To carry that guilt would be the absolute worst.

Truth is, I can have a little more grace with myself, too. I honestly get the worst of my own criticism and I’m certain that I’m not the only person who is my own worst critic. I put a lot of pressure on myself to be a certain way – the most disciplined, the most hardcore, the smartest, the strongest, the best musician, the most poetic, the most impactful, the most available and the most efficient.

What I have learned recently is that I find things that save me and I envelope myself in them. Veganism. Music. Endurance Sport. Most recently: My Car. These things come to me when I need them most and I throw in hard with them to a point of obsession. I’ve done so negative things as well… junk food… booze… pills… and I have become the worst example of humanity available at the time.

But I still look myself in the mirror and am ultimately grateful for the fucked up weirdo I was, because that fucked up weirdo got me here… and I should go easy on him.

And if I can extend grace to my worst critic… then I can extend grace to anyone.

So… easy does it.

happy where you are

It’s pretty easy to be happy when everything is fine… a little harder when it’s not. I had something knock my positivity a little off-course a couple months back and it’s been difficult to reclaim my bearings a bit, but I’ve gained clarity on things in a way I thought I understood before; and maybe I was right, but is much more obvious to me now.

I’ve heard lot about being happy where you are, which is ultimately the foundations of the phrase ‘money can’t buy happiness‘ but I’ve always had difficulty squaring that with my motivation to move forward and do more, being the goal oriented person that I am. Only recently have I realized that in the context of my everyday losses & victories that I ultimately couldn’t possibly be any happier than I am right now. My struggles are my own, but the truth is that I wouldn’t trade them for anyone else’s. I am self aware and moving forward, and over all I am happy – in part because I am happy moving forward.

I suppose I got it into my head somehow that the term ‘being happy where you are‘ gets broken into 2 halves, (a) ‘being happy‘ and (b) ‘where you are.’

‘Being happy‘ is not a foreign concept, but ‘where you are‘ somehow presents as some stationary place, as in ‘if my life never changed, would I be good with that?’ but that’s really not what it is. It’s more momentary and granular than that. As I type this, I’m sitting at my laptop and I am happy doing so. After this I’ll be doing something else and I’ll be happy with that – and it will lead to something else.

What I’ve come to understand is that rather than a term with 2 halves, it’s a term with an action and a qualifier. ‘Being happy, where you are.‘ and I’ve realized that ‘where you are‘ for me IS moving forward. When I am right now is putting time and action between myself and an undesirable circumstance, and if I’m being truly honest with myself then I must acknowledge that every day since that hard situation happened is better than the day before it, because progress is cumulative.

The only place we allow our failures to define us is in the mirror, and most of us would never allow someone else to talk to us the way we talk to ourselves. You wouldn’t allow someone to talk that way about a close friend, and a close friend would come to your defense if someone was slinging slander at you.

I can’t speak for you, but the little fat kid I see in the mirror needs me to defend him. After all, he got me all the way here… and objectively, here is pretty great, and he worked really hard to do so.

If we’re going to live in a frame of mind where problems compound on each other (and most of us do, regrettably) then we must also allow our victories to compound, or we’ll never feel that sense of balance or accomplishment, and we’ll never really be able to ask ourselves: “Am I happy where I am?” without fearing the answer.

So we either DON’T allow our problems to compound, or we DO allow our victories to compound. That’s a matter of preference I suppose… but in the checks & balances, I’m willing to bet that a lot of us are closer to being happy where we are than we might think.

pursuits

I like to do hard things. Hard things have historically included feats of endurance, like an olympic length triathlon course or a half-marathon, and while those things are obviously still hard, this has been a different kind of summer.

The fitness portion of my life, although still in existence, has felt a bit directionless lately. I’ve been struggling to allow myself to rest. Not only rest, but to enjoy things that stretch me as a person beyond normal rigors of endurance sport. My brain has been stretched and bowed by a new role at work, and by problem-solving with my hobby-car, among other self analysis and mental exercise including my propensity to snack like the binge-eating addict I am, and the culmination has truly been exhausting. Add some indecision of what physical activity to double-down on, and a later-than-it-should-be bed time resulting in an over-used snooze button… but again, I’ve been struggling to let myself off the hook as far as fitness goes.

I still track calories and macros, and I get out and run, and lift weights, and have developed a bit of an interest in Ashtanga – but not with my usual “nailed to the training program 6 days a week” fervor that I typically adopt. I’m trying to find a way to be okay with this… but there’s a part of me that feels I’m not doing enough.

I know there are seasons to life, and this season right now is the off-season for me. I’m entertaining the idea of signing up for a race in the fall, and I can’t decide if it’s pride or discipline that’s preventing me from doing any less than a half marathon. My challenge is more about whether or not I have enough training weeks between now and then, and less about willpower.

If I sign up, I’ll do it – and I will finish, pain or not.

It’s really easy to say things like “there are seasons to life” when you’re training regularly and killing it. It’s not so easy to say that when your focus is split between other passions. I know what I need, and it’s a regular (hard) training schedule that I can indenture myself to – but I also need this rest, and I need the mental challenges I’m facing.

The only thing I really know, is that I must remain present – in the moment.
That’s the true balance – being 100% present.

And if I’m being honest with myself… I am present.

And presently… it’s time to go for a run.