Re-launch

Given the prevalence of political discussion in many forums (e.g. Facebook, Twitter), I'm going to relaunch this blog and move all of my ranting here. 

This is the equivalent, I realize, of going into a small, unoccupied room and yelling out political positions where no one can hear them.  I think I'm okay with that.

Numbers

205.9

I’m a financial analyst by vocation, so numbers are a big part of my life.   As a result, I find that I look for quantification of activities probably more than most people. It can be a problem, actually.  

The reason is that I rarely embark on any endeavors that don’t involve numbers in some meaningful way.  I don’t want to start lifting weights unless there is some numeric goal attached, like number of pull-ups, or maximum weight on a bench press.  I don’t want to just ‘lose weight’ (that number is my present weight) – I want to go from the number I am now to a goal weight, or a goal loss of pounds.  Those number might actually be meaningless, but I know that they are better than I can do now, even if I don’t know if it’s really attainable.  A target of 160 pounds is better than I am now, but I doubt that’s reachable while staying attached to all my limbs. 

26:01

There I go again – that was my time on this mornings 5K (a Turkey trot in my town). As I often do, I had multiple quantitative objectives for this race: a goal time (27:00), an expected time (29:00) and a minimal acceptable time (31:00).  All of these were just numbers, and should not have determined my enjoyment of the race, or the fun I had getting ready for it. But those concepts aren’t quantifiable, can’t really be measured, and therefore take second chair to the clear delineations of time and distance.  I think this is actually a problem most runners have, but I get to deal with it in my personal and my professional lives.  

70.3

And there’s another one.  I would like to run a half-Ironman distance triathlon next year.  I want to know the satisfaction of having done that disatance through swim, bike and run.  But again, it’s quantifiable, as will the distances of all of my training sessions.  Time is less important here, but the distances are fixed, and each is a hurdle I will need to get across.  

45

One more number that defines me, at least for now.  I’m not getting any younger, and my body is really trying to tell me this.  Actually, it’s saying a lot of things, including that I’m carrying extra weight, I’m getting older, and slower, and that in some facets of my life, my best years are behind me.  

The numbers are getting harder, more relentless, and becoming more of an obstacle.  They may have already been an obstacle for a long time – shifting my focus from areas of my life which are more subjective and less goal-oriented.  As a ‘closer-to-type-A’ personality, I find fluffy goals of ‘have more fun’ or ‘be more relaxed’ as too general, too airy. After all, how will I know if I ever achieve those goals?  There won’t come a time when I’ll say that I’ve had enough fun, or that I’ve achieved enlightenment through relaxation.  But the days are coming when the numbers will become unattainable, and I’ll lose the (perhaps illusory) sense of control that the numbers provide – both in telling me where I am, as well as where I’m supposed to be headed.  Until that time, though, there are a few numeric hurdles I have yet to conquer.

Waffling without a breeze

There's an old Bedouin proverb that came to mind recently:

Me against my brother
Me and my brother against my cousin
Me, my brother, and my cousin against our neighbors
Me, my brother, my cousin, and my neighbors against the stranger.

But what do you do when your biggest conflict is inside of yourself?

I'm not going split-personality here, trust me, but the most significant battle I have is with myself lately.  It's the struggle between who I want to be, and who I actually am in those quiet moments of decision.  The me that says I should exercise more, and eat less, and be more social, and the other me who is just fine not doing those things, and wasting time on the internet, or with TV, or just doing nothing - filling up my time with things that don't matter.

In large part, it's the challenge of laying down the foundation of who I want to be tomorrow, working against the reality of who I want to be right now, and what I find worth doing today.  I'm not normally like this, but the last few months, I've seen myself making short-term decisions rather than long-term investments.  I'm even seeing the negative effects of my recent 'not-as-good' decisions, and don't seem to care enough about them to change my approach, at least not yet.

There's a concept in business called an emergent strategy - it's the strategy that you actually pursue, not the one you plan. I've always been a planner, and lined up my days and weeks toward a future goal, but suddenly that doesn't seem as important.  My personal strategy is giving way to a very different emergent strategy that feels like living day-to-day.   I know a lot of people who do that already, and are very happy just dealing with the 'today's, but that's never been me.

Maybe I'm just a bit rudderless right now.  I've achieved a lot of what I planned to do in the last several years, and I haven't seen sights clearly on a new set of goals.  If I spend a little time on vacation this week thinking about where I want to go, perhaps that will provide the guiding star to help direct me.  Then I can trim my sails and head off in the right way.  Until then, I'm going to founder a bit more in the doldrums.

But not for too long.

Trying a different angle

So it's early October, and I'm back into my usual 'struggle'.  That is, I'm fighting that same 5-10 pounds that I've fought for the past few years.  When I was living overseas, it seemed easier to keep weight off, but that was in large part a fact of my circumstances.  There was more walking and cycling for transportation, and less access to the variety of foods that speak to my cravings. 

There was also less time spent working, which is one of the challenges I face on a regular basis.  My days start early, they run late, and in the evenings, I am engaged with community activities like Boy Scouts, church, and the occasional fun activity.  All that leaves less time for training and exercise than I would like, and probably need.

That said, my real problems is with my diet.  It's not terrible, but it's also not great.  I don't drink enough water (diet soda is my thing), I eat too much sugar, and not enough of things like fruits or vegetables.  Although my wife does cook healthy meals, and has for years, to this day I still don't automatically reach for a piece of fruit when I'm hungry.   There are just too many alternatives that sound and taste better, especially when I'm tired and don't want to deal with things.

So I'm trying some new things once again.  For the last few weeks, I've increased my water intake significantly - "drinking water like it's my job" as one friend put it.  I'm also trying a new motivation.  I've found that when running or swimming, I can convince myself to keep up with a pace until I hit a  landmark.  It doesn't have to be anything big, but just something in the future that I can set my mind on as a finish line, or more properly, a way point.  For when I reach that landmark, I don't stop, but rather just pause, like taking a walk break, or a drink from my water bottle.  Then it's back to it.

I thought maybe this could work for my nutrition plan too.  If I have a preferred regimen, and stick to it, I can give myself that 'way point' in the form of a day where that regimen is relaxed.  It's a type of reward to celebrate a few weeks of successes.  It's risky, I know, because after that one day, it may be harder to restart the next, but I think I can make it work, and it can work with my psychology.

The question was - how many days in what period of time is right?    Also, this is fall, which is one of my toughest seasons, with the holidays of Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas, each of which was a food event in my house.   I've settled on 5 days over the course of three moths.  This means about 2-3 weeks between 'off days', and a lot of 'on days' if I can pull it off.

Truth be told, I started this a couple of weeks ago, and today was my first 'off day', as I was working today, and succumbed to the group luncheon, including many baked goods.  And candidly, I wasn't happy with myself about it.  I'm not yet sure if this is a good or bad reaction.  It's good in that I do not expect that I will want to repeat this - even as I write this, I'm physically not feeling great, so being 'on' tomorrow won't be hard.  The bad part is that I can't beat myself up over these scheduled 'off days', or the program won't work.

I know a few of my other 'off days'.  Thanksgiving will be one, and Christmas another.  I'm also expecting one at the end of October, just to break the tension, but the last day is not yet scheduled.  I'll probably use that when I need it, but hopefully in a pre-planned manner, rather than an unscheduled 'food fest'. 

I'm also trying some other 'better behaviors', including going to bed earlier to get more sleep, and trying to approach my life from a sense of love and thankfulness, rather than a sense of fear, guilt, and, well, hatred.  I'm not thrilled about the way I look or my fitness level, and I know I can do better, but I believe in the long run, I'll be mentally better off if I do the things I love, rather than the things I should do, or feel I must do.  If being fit is something I really crave, I'll find the time, and I'll prioritize it far more than if it's just something I have to do to lose weight.  Hopefully those mental perspectives will help me both physically and spiritually. 

RAGNAR!

OK.  That title is a bit direct, but I was very excited to run the Ragnar Adirondacks event last week with a couple of friends, and a number of strangers. 

We were 13 people in two vans for two days, alternately running on scenic roads and trying to get some sleep in the seat of a moving vehicle.  In the end, I think I got about 90 minutes of sleep, and I ran 20 miles within 24 hours.  To some, that sounds like a circle of hell, but for me, it was a great way to celebrate running and camaraderie, making new friendships and deepening others.

This really wasn't as much of a race as a celebration of running, and right now, that's what I was looking for.  Something not-so-competitive, but enjoyable, and a common adventure that helped me re-bond with people as well as with the sport I love.  Yes, this was a bit silly for me to do (especially with cat ears and a tutu - don't ask), and yes, perhaps we were all just a bit sleep-deprived in a way that mirrored inebriation.  Heck, that's probably why our team feels so good about the event, and is already thinking of doing another, but as with other events, we need to forget the pain of this one before embarking out again.

It also wasn't all good and glorious.  There was soreness, pain, aggravation, confusion, and a bit of embarrassment (I saw a video of me running.  Ugh.  I am even sorrier for the people who often see me around town, but that's the subject of my next post).  it was, however, meaningful. 

Watching the moon rise on my midnight leg in Cycle 2, turning a corner to see my team far earlier than I had expected (I thought they were parked wrong - turns out I was just faster than I thought), enjoying a nice dinner before hitting a hotel for about 30 minutes of sleep before my phone rang from the other half of the team - these are all memories that are going to stick with me for a while.  Hopefully, they can keep me going during the coming winter months, when running is little other than dark and cold. 

Although it could be, this sport of mine is not for everyone.  Candidly I'm not 100% sure why I still do it, when there are other alternatives.  But I keep coming back and I keep setting my sights higher (more on that in 2 blog posts).  There's so much more that I can do with it, and so much farther that I can push myself, and test my limits.  In that sense, Ragnar wasn't a race, or a run, but a bit of a re-awakening to my own potential and my own enjoyment. 

What else can I get myself into? (note: that's a rhetorical question)

So it looks like I'm trying to see how many stupid things I can do at once, and to see what level of stress my body and mind will both accept. 

First, I'm running a Ragnar race next week.  For those of you who don't know what a Ragnar is (and why would i expect you to?) it's a 36 hour long relay race, where you get together with 11 friends, pile into two vans and run three times over the course of 36 hours, with little sleep, nothing but road food, and lots and lots of other runners.  But don't worry - there are no prizes (at least not for my team) and no glory to be had - just a good fun weekend.  Sounds great, right?

Oh, and I'm running a half marathon the week after that.  Wish I had paid more attention to the calendar now.

Then there's this conference.  I'm on the verge of signing up to be a speaker at a conference next year in my profession (corporate accounting).  I'm not a terrific public speaker, and I have no business doing this.  But it's out of my comfort zone, it's something I know I *can* do, and I have plenty of time (the conference isn't until June).  This may be a terrible idea, but that's the theme of this blog, right?

Finally, I've (accidentally?) signed up to be the social media coordinator for my church.  Our current one (who set up our Facebook page about 4 months ago) left the area, and I think I volunteered for this last night.  Note to self: Stop asking questions about who's going to do something that needs to be done!

Its been an interesting week in terms of my behavior, and the things I'm getting myself into.  Maybe this is the start of great things!  Maybe it's the inciting force for my upcoming nervous breakdown.  And maybe I'll learn to stop meddling into my own affairs sometime soon.

Where's the "er"?

Given my family history, and my requirements for Boy Scouts, I keep up with my health checkups.  So I recently went to see my doctor for my annual physical.  We went through the results of my blood tests, and she asked me how I was doing.  No major complaints, I said, but I’ve been feeling a little less energetic, and seemed to be more subject to minor irritations like soreness, discomfort, or poor sleeping.  That’s not too surprising, she said, because you’re starting to get old.

I waited for the ‘er’. 

As in, “You’re starting to get old-er”.  It didn’t come.     Why didn’t it come?, I thought  Did she really mean what she said?  Did she realize the implications of that missing syllable?  Was it just a slip, or was she trying to tell me something?

After all, we’re all getting older – that’s just a fact of life and numbers.  But I’m not ready to think of myself as old.  Sure, I’m in my mid-forties, but in my eye, I’m still in my late 20’s / early 30’s  - still learning new things, having new experiences, trying to figure out my real place in the world.  How could I be thought of as old? Maybe in the 1700’s I would qualify, but this is the 21^st century, and my life expectancy is 93.  I’m not halfway done on this planet yet.

Besides that, we had just finished discussing that I was in great health.  I’m an active person, even to the point of running marathons and triathlons.  I’m all there mentally (ok, mostly) and while I could lose a few pounds, all I have is a minor issue here or there.  They’re nothing debilitating, and more just things that ‘we should watch’, given my history and my family history.  My doc actually downplayed all of the things that I was worried would take me down – she said none of those seemed to be real issues for me.

So why the “old” reference?  I’ve mostly convinced myself that she really didn’t mean it, that it was a throwaway comment to dismiss my concerns as “no big deal” (and they aren’t a big deal).  I did hesitate telling my wife this story, on the off chance that she would agree with my doctor, though.

But it has gotten me thinking about what ‘old’ really means to me, and I’m just not there, and can’t even see there from here.  To me, old implies inactive, passive, disengaged and weak, while old-er simply means that things change.  Fortunately, I have role models in my mother and in-laws of what older can be without being old – they’re all in their 70s, and are physically and mentally active, and engaged in their communities. 

That’s encouraging to say the least, and provide a blueprint for me to follow as I celebrate the many birthdays yet to come.  And with health issues headed for the bottom of my worry list, I can focus a little bit on being happy.

Or should I say, happy-er?