Alexandersmap

    Category: Health

    • Today, as Forever

      “We are like butterflies who flutter for a day and think it is forever.” – Carl Sagan

      I met an old friend at the airport, both of us heading for the same plane, and we caught up on each other’s lives until we boarded the plane and went our separate ways on the other end of the flight. We spoke of family members fighting cancer who faced different expectations for the duration of their time on this planet. And saw in that brief conversation the folly of waiting for another day that might not be ours for the taking.

      Each of us reminded that life is but a brief flutter that all too soon must end. Memento mori.

      Each of us reminded to seize the day. Carpe diem.

      What will we make of this day? This, our brief dance with the world? We ought to have one eye on the moment while we aim at tomorrow. To build for that tomorrow but to not ever rely on it being there for you. Celebrate today, as forever.

      “Do not act as if you had ten thousand years to throw away. Death stands at your elbow. Be good for something while you live and it is in your power.” – Marcus Aurelius, Meditations

      Enough of talk and grand plans. There’s no time for that! Get to it already. Today.

    • A Place for Consistency

      Two weeks goes by so very quickly. If you don’t prioritize exercise you might find that the days slip by without really doing much of anything. But when you do focus on exercise, what can you accomplish in so short a time? Two weeks ago I decided to find out.

      I chose to row 5000 meters per day at 75-80% intensity. The first row reminded me that I hadn’t done it for some time, but I was patient with myself anyway. The second row reminded me that I know how to do this when I put my mind into it. And so it progressed with each row, as I relearned the rhythm of the stroke that has been with me since I was 18 years old. It works out to be roughly 500 strokes each workout, which doesn’t sound like a lot until you push yourself through them.

      And then I traveled, visiting seven states in three days. I was concerned I’d broken the habit of exercise and blown up my fortnight experiment. But I came back and hopped on and told myself to just get through it no matter what. And I hit broke my previous times during the previous streak. There’s a place for rest in your exercise routine. And there’s a place for consistency.

      The entire point is to establish the habit of movement. To pick something you love and maybe hate just a little and get after it consistently, no matter what your mind comes up with as an excuse. I used to travel a lot, so rowing was problematic for me. Then the pandemic hit and in theory I should have been rowing every day for 18 months. It turned out to be far less consistent, but I chose hiking, long walks and swimming laps as my go-to’s. Not rowing but still productive motion.

      When you do a specific exercise almost every day you learn to listen to your body instead of your mind. Your body wants to be in motion, the mind wants to be left alone. At least until you trick it into believing something within you is incomplete until you get back to it, today. And every subsequent day too.

      Today I begin another business travel journey. I know I can’t row during that time, but I can jump right back onto the erg when I return. Or not… the choice is ours, isn’t it? I have a streak to break on my next fortnight of exercise. Best to get right to it as soon as I can.

    • A Fortnight of Motion

      “The job of feets is walking, but their hobby is dancing.” – Amit Kalantri

      “When we breathe, we expand our life force.” – James Nestor, Breath

      There’s no secret to the key to life. Keep moving. Water stagnates when it sits still for too long, and it’s the same for our bodies. So keep the river flowing. Moving is the key to good health. Circulating the blood, getting the oxygen moving in and out of our bodies, flushing toxins out of our system through motion. We all know this, but still catch ourselves parked on our asses for hours at a time. Get up and move already!

      We all find ourselves in situations where we can’t hike or swim or dance, but we can always move. We can always breathe deeply. So why do we forget to do it? Our bodies will rest plenty in our eternal sleep, why get a head start on it?

      With all this in mind, I’ve begun a fortnight of motion. 14 days of focus on exercise, breathing and better nutrition. Two weeks are long enough to make it a challenge, but short enough to stay focused. As a rule, I don’t like writing about what I’m going to do. The world is full of people who make promises they’ll never keep. But accountability is a key for success in any endeavor, so a fortnight challenge provides a clear timeframe to put up or shut up.

      Exercise takes many forms. I happen to have the tools for better fitness available. A Concept II rowing ergometer, kettle bells, free weights and good walking shoes. The thing is, I had all of these tools yesterday too, but didn’t use them.

      Use them.

      And then write about it.

    • Until We Are Not

      The singular and cheerful life
      of any flower
      in anyone’s garden
      or any still unowned field—
      if there are any—
      catches me
      by the heart,
      by its color, by its obedience
      to the holiest of laws:
      be alive
      until you are not.
      – Mary Oliver, The Singular and Cheerful Life

      We all have gut punches along the way. Moments of bliss interrupted by the fiercest of reality checks. Moments when you question the unfairness of it all. Look around at the world and you’ll find plenty of examples of it today.

      What do we do when we catch our breath from this gut punch?

      We generally find a way to carry on. To make the most of our brief time together. To spin up just a little more magic in the world, if only to reflect in the glow it creates between us. To be alive until we are not.

      There is only this.

    • When We Walk

      “When we walk like (we are rushing), we print anxiety and sorrow on the earth. We have to walk in a way that we only print peace and serenity on the earth… Be aware of the contact between your feet and the earth. Walk as if you are kissing the earth with your feet.” – Thich Nhat Hanh

      “When we walk, we naturally go to the fields and woods: what would become of us, if we walked only in a garden or a mall?” – Henry David Thoreau, Walking

      I’ve been walking on pavement too often recently. The mileage is good but the spirit is muted. Your feet have a hard time connecting you to the earth when there’s three inches of asphalt separating you from it. Still, walking on asphalt is better than being indoors all day, and to be honest, I’ve experienced too much of that lately.

      One recent walk took me along the Cape Cod Canal for six miles. Visually it was striking with a parade of yachts and commercial vessels streaming past on a particularly busy day. And the company was certainly good. But that connection to the earth was missing on those paved bike paths.

      Maybe walks on pavement are better than nothing, but like Henry I wonder what becomes of us when we aren’t off in the fields and woods. The more we connect our feet to the earth and cover ground the more we hear our own voice. Walking flushes the toxins out of your body and soul. Sitting all the time, as we do these days with our desk jobs and a return to commuting robs us of that flushing and the ick pools up inside of us until we once again get up and out.

      Today is a good day for a walk.

    • All Things in Moderation (Especially Ice Cream)

      I indulged in an ice cream cone after dinner last night. It was everything you’d expect an ice cream cone on a warm August night to be; delicious, gooey and drippy, with big chunks of cherry and chocolate chip offering flavor bursts and texture. An amazing experience that I paid for with a night of Tums and water propped up on the bed to keep acid reflux at bay. That one ice cream will keep me from having another for the rest of summer. Perfect.

      Portion control is nice, but avoiding certain foods works better for me. If I don’t go out and get an ice cream cone I won’t eat it. If I don’t stock the bowl in the kitchen with M & M’s I won’t mindlessly grab a handful every time I walk by it. Out of sight, out of mind.

      On the flip side, if I buy the blueberries and leafy greens I’ll feel compelled to eat them while they’re fresh. If I keep the workout clothes near the bed, or the backpack packed and ready to go I’ll eliminate any lazy excuse for not getting up and doing what I promised myself I’d do. This is the Yin and Yang of fitness and nutrition. Surf the edge, just don’t drift too far over it.

      That classic summer experience of eating an ice cream cone now and then is perfectly fine. Still, the lines are far longer at the ice cream stand than they are at the farm stand. Probably better to reverse the frequency at each, isn’t it? The reckoning will come, whether it’s overnight or over time. Making good food choices and eating in moderation are key to a vibrant, resilient life.

      Yes, the overnight ice cream chaos could have been avoided with a smaller portion. A lot smaller. All things in moderation and a lesson re-learned. Until next summer anyway.

    • Get After It, Again and Again

      Lingering in the good soreness from a couple of days of long beach walks, I can’t help but wonder how fit I’d be if I walked the beach every morning before the sun rose. Then again, I think the same thing after a great hike, after consistently rowing anaerobic pieces, or doing intense weight circuits or swimming laps in salt water. Active is active, and the point of active is to do what you can where you are with what you have. Otherwise you’re inactive.

      So get after it. Carve out the time and do the work. This naturally goes for anything we pursue in life. Plodding along half-assed is a form of wasting space, and we aren’t here to waste space, are we? Sliding into comfortable complacency is just so… easy. But it doesn’t get us where we really want to go.

      “You can usually accomplish more by giving something your full effort for a few years rather than giving it a lukewarm effort for fifty years. Pick a priority for this season of your life and do it to the best of your ability.” – James Clear

      Beginning in early July I challenged myself to 20 days of rigid eating and exercise. It turned out I wasn’t so rigid with either, but still managed to lose 6 pounds and noted significant progress in kettle bell repetitions (my focus during this time period). It was just enough to make me want a little more. Really, a lot more. And so I begin again.

      Normally I’m an Olympics junkie, and love to watch athletes who put everything into their sport come together to compete. If I were broadcasting the Olympics, I’d be following athletes from different sports and different countries for years documenting the blood, sweat and tears as they grind away at it all. Then put together a montage of each, no matter how they finish in their events, through the closing ceremonies and then back home. Where they look around, smile and begin again. But broadcasters (and most people) celebrate the big moment, not the process that gets them there and beyond.

      The more trips around the sun I take, the more I see that life is about becoming, and it’s never fully realized. It’s celebrated in small moments of lingering soreness and beginning again the next day. We’re here to get after it to the best of our ability, to work towards that person we want to become. Beginning again and again.

    • Traveling Between Variants

      Traveling again opens up the world, and exploring new places for a few days in Miami leaves me ready for so much more. Miami has some of the best dining options anywhere, and also some of the worst drivers. I delighted in the best sushi I’ve ever had, while marveling at some of the most ill-advised driving decisions I’ve ever seen. Each destination offers its own unique reveals.

      You forget how much you learned to love the life of a nomad until you’re locked in place for a year. One business trip and it all washes over you again. The anticipation and cadence of a meeting, the shift from one hotel to another as you change cities, overcoming language barriers, and the food versus fuel debate in your head as you scan unfamiliar menus. It’s all part of the life of a traveler, and you count your blessings when you can travel again.

      And yet this business of fighting the virus and its variants isn’t quite over yet. There’s an underlying unease about the virus amongst the thoughtful, and a heightened awareness of crowded spaces. Eating out in a place like Miami involves many crowded spaces. You hear of Australia locking down and patrolling streets and contrast it with the freedom of movement and the casual closeness in packed spaces in Florida. Who is right?

      We may move closer to normal, but the generational impact of the pandemic on the collective psyche of humanity will be felt for our lifetimes. When you travel again you immediately see the world differently than those who are still sheltering, because you have to. The world is moving on even as the virus is doubling down, and you’re either casual with your personal health and responsibility to others or you’re not. I’m surfing the edge and I know it, but the thrill of travel fills me up anyway.

      Travel by its nature requires a leap of faith and calculated risk. If you have the freedom to travel, then do so responsibly. That begins with getting vaccinated and practicing good hygiene. Risk is never eliminated in life, but it can be mitigated. Because getting back out there illuminates this beautiful gift of living, and it would be great for everyone to get back to the brighter days.

    • COVID Truth and Consequences

      “It’s often easier to discover the truth if we believe it’s there in the first place.” – Seth Godin

      Speaking with a gentleman I once worked for a dozen years ago, we quickly caught up on life since the last time we saw each other. You do that with old acquaintances, find the common anchoring points, fill the voids, and reset to the present. In filling voids I’d heard about his brother, who recently passed from complications related to COVID. He spoke of the abruptness of it all, and the hole it left in his heart. He then told me he didn’t believe in the vaccination, felt it was too dangerous to take and he was going to Las Vegas for a trade show this coming week. And my head spun.

      We all choose the information we consume. We all get to decide what’s right for us. The problem we have today is there’s more conflicting information available to choose from than at any point in our history. And we’re choking on it. And it’s killing us.

      There’s no time for all of this. If the truth is that the virus is far deadlier than the vaccine, and far deadlier for those who are unvaccinated, then we have no time to debate ad infinitum whether the vetting process was long enough for the vaccinations. The barbarians are at the gate, throw up the damned defenses. Will there be long term health issues for those who opted to vaccinate? Highly unlikely, but possible. Is the Delta variant accelerating through the unvaccinated at alarming rates? Definitely, and highly probable.

      The truth is out there, but seemingly harder to reach consensus on than ever before. And maybe this is our fate, to stall and debate and wait for the world to fall in line with our beliefs. Knowing all along that it doesn’t really work that way.

    • A Measure of Contentment

      How difficult
      it is to die
      from my
      disbelief
      and kneel
      down
      to the truer
      underlying
      font of happiness
      waiting to
      break
      the enclosing
      surface,
      to believe
      in my body that
      I deserve
      the full spacious
      sense of
      not being
      thirsty anymore,
      of living
      a present
      contentment.
      – David Whyte, Newly Married

      The realization of not being thirsty anymore, of being content with the life you’re living and all that it means; the relationship you’re in, the place you live, the work you do, the mark you’ve made, the places you’ve gone to and returned from, and the fitness level you’ve achieved, this is the promised land of contentment. I look at that list in the previous sentence and know I’m more than halfway there. But the fact that there’s still a list indicates I have a way to go.

      Whyte writes of relationships and having found his thirst-quenching soulmate. When you reach that particular point you recognize immediately that yes, this is more than enough for me in this area of my life. And if you haven’t, well, you’d recognize that too. Contentment isn’t the same as complacency, and each day requires a recommitment to seeing it through. To seeing it continue to tomorrow and the tomorrows to follow.

      Lately I’ve turned my attention back to fitness and nutrition. Eating the right foods, drinking in moderation, exercise and a recommitment to my flexibility and strength that has somehow been missing for too long. I recognize within myself that there’s a thirst, a hunger if you will, to be better than I presently am. This is my current area of discontentment.

      The thing is, things change, and change constantly. If at one point in life I was content with my overall fitness level, I’m not now and work to change it. If I was once content with the number of days I spent traveling and exploring the world, now I’m restless and ready to get back out there. Circumstances change, and we change with circumstances. Contentment is a relative thing, and it’s relatively evasive. We must work for that which we seek in our lives.

      I expect Whyte knows this too. He didn’t say lifetime contentment, but present contentment. We’re dynamic beings coexisting with a dynamic and ever-changing world. Contentment is meant to be evasive. Our purpose is to keep working at this fragile dance, and make of it what we can in the time given to us. To be content with being a work in progress seems the ultimate measure of contentment.