Category: Fitness

  • Attention is Vitality

    “Do stuff. be clenched, curious. Not waiting for inspiration’s shove or society’s kiss on your forehead. Pay attention. It’s all about paying attention. attention is vitality. It connects you with others. It makes you eager. stay eager.” ― Susan Sontag

    Please take a moment and re-read the quote above, but in the voice of a close friend or loved one who’s a bit exacerbated with you for not doing this the last time they reminded you to be more vigorous with this business of living. Vigorous in a “lust for life” way. Vigorous in a “decide what to be and go be it” way. What we pay attention to matters. We must choose to rise above mundane.

    Each of us is wrestling with something, likely amplified by the madness in the world these last several years. What drowns out that voice in the back of our head more than action? We all know the fable of the frog and boiling water (Put a frog in a pot of boiling water and it will leap out. Put that frog in cold water gradually heated and it will boil to death). The moral of the story seems obvious, but what are we currently boiling in ourselves?

    We must shake ourselves loose from the belief that we’re unable to change our circumstances. We must pay attention and get to the living part of our story. Get out of the damned pot! Be clenched! Be curious! Be eager!

  • Without Memory

    Mama says he can’t remember
    Daddy thinks that he still can
    I’m going back to see him
    While he still knows
    Who I am
    This time I’m gonna hug him
    Instead of just shaking hands
    Gonna tell him that I love him
    While he still knows
    Who I am
    — Kenny Chesney, While He Still Knows Who I Am

    There are moments when you hear a song on the radio and you want to pull over to listen to it in its entirety. That moment happened to me with this Chesney song as I was merging onto Interstate 95 between the George Washington Bridge and the Alexander Hamilton Bridge. In other words: not a place you want to pull over. But I multitasked my way through the song and Washington Heights safely anyway, thinking I’d have to listen again sometime soon. Technology puts songs at our fingertips nowadays, and so it would be.

    Having a father with dementia, the lyrics land as body blows. When you lose someone while they’re still with you, it’s a different kind of loss than the losing of someone who’s had their last heartbeat. I’ve lost two fathers in the last few years, one each way, and you feel the hurt uniquely for each. The one who was more present in my life feels like loss. The one that got away feels more like lost opportunity. Both have shaped me, both leave a void in their absence that has to be reconciled in unexpected moments like merging into traffic. Timing is everything in life.

    “Memory is our deepest actual language. It’s our storehouse of riches… and we need to keep it open, to keep in mind the importance of childhood events that will somehow condition our life and character… If we have no memory, we are nobody, and nothing is possible.” — José Saramago

    There are days when I wonder which way I’ll go myself. Will my body give out first, or my mind? We never want to be a burden on those we love in our final days, but we do want to linger with them as long as possible. It’s the saying goodbye part that we want the most in the end, even as we wish with all our heart that it wouldn’t end. Having seen people leave this world both ways, I think I’d rather have my body give out first. At least I might write and say a few things until the end. At the very least tell the people I love what the passwords are for all my accounts. Nobody likes loose ends. Dementia leaves a lot of loose ends.

    So we learn to hug the people we love in the moment instead of waiting. We eat our blueberries and leafy greens and stay hydrated hoping to stay healthy for as long as possible into our senior years. Vibrant physical and mental health become far more important when we see the alternative. We can’t always change the path we and our loved ones are on, but we can control how we react to it in this moment. I suppose that’s all we’ve ever had.

  • Opting for a Colorful Plate

    “The food you eat can be either the safest and most powerful form of medicine or the slowest form of poison.” ― Ann Wigmore

    A coworker recently brought up his frustration with the the “plateful of brown” options available for breakfast at a typical American hotel chain: eggs, bacon, sausage links, bread, potatoes or hash browns, coffee. If you’re lucky enough to have fruit options it’s usually bananas and pineapple or melon. Maybe some yogurt. In other words, a whole lotta brown.

    There’s a rule of thumb that we ought to include as many colors in our food as we can. A plate loaded full of brown foods isn’t especially good for you, and may indeed be a slow form of poison. If we are what we eat, why are we opting for processed junk and the same old same old? Add color! Add variety! Add flavor!

    Looking at the travel menu for dinners, there’s a lot of brown there too: pasta and bread, steak, chicken, rice and all sorts of not very colorful food. It doesn’t have to be this way. We can do as the Europeans do and swirl in a healthy mix of green, red, orange and yellow and feel more vibrant after eating. Or stick with browns and feel bloated and tired after eating. The choice is ours, one meal at a time. We ought to choose wisely. Choose deliciously. Choose colorfully.

  • Creating Irreplaceable

    “Do not do what someone else could do as well as you. Do not say, do not write what someone else could say, could write as well as you. Care for nothing in yourself but what you feel exists nowhere else. And, out of yourself create, impatiently or patiently, the most irreplaceable of beings.“ — André Gide

    [Quick aside: I’ve used the two quotes in this blog before, but feel there’s more to be said about them. Perhaps more still, even after this post. Forgive the repetition. We are what we repeatedly do?]

    It’s fair to ask ourselves, as we begin each day enabled or encumbered in our routines, just what it is we’re up to. Where exactly is this day bringing us on our journey? For that matter, what is the destination anyway? Big questions, to be sure, but life is full of big questions deftly dodged. When we avoid answering our deepest questions how can we possibly expect to reach our potential? We can’t succumb to distraction when we’re creating irreplaceable.

    A few weeks ago a friend planted a seed in my brain about finally hiking the Grand Canyon rim-to-rim. I’ve contemplated doing this for years, and deep down I knew it was going to slip away like so many other dreams. Until I decided to realize that particular dream. Now don’t get me wrong: it’s still unrealized, but it aligns with my identity, lends itself to other life goals, and is attainable with applied focus, time and effort. For better or worse, I’ve also just announced that intent to everyone who reads this blog, breaking a rule about announcing what I intend to do instead of informing about what I’ve just done. But sometimes you need to add peer pressure to reach your goals in life.

    A year or ten ago, I began hinting at a novel I was writing. I had no business writing a novel when I first started talking about writing one, because I didn’t believe I had any business writing it. Naturally the novel never was written, but the desire to write it remained. So I started blogging every day as a step towards writing better, applied daily through my commitment to post something every day. My blog posts are written the day they’re posted, which is why the time is variable, because I finish it when I finish it. You might add that the quality of the post is also highly variable, but the point is to ship the work, ready or not.

    “Every action you take is a vote for the type of person you wish to become.
    No single instance will transform your beliefs, but as the votes build up, so does the evidence of your identity.
    This is why habits are crucial. They cast repeated votes for being a type of person.”
    James Clear

    We all wonder what the future will bring, but don’t always see we’re building it with each action. We have more agency in our lives than we give ourselves credit for, and often overthink things instead of just taking another step. That which is irreplaceable cannot be realized without consistent effort. We must choose our direction and do the work to realize it. Fate decides the rest.

  • Ebb and Flow

    “When you love someone you do not love them all the time, in exactly the same way, from moment to moment. It is an impossibility. It is even a lie to pretend to. And yet this is exactly what most of us demand. We have so little faith in the ebb and flow of life, of love, of relationships. We leap at the flow of the tide and resist in terror its ebb. We are afraid it will never return. We insist on permanency, on duration, on continuity; when the only continuity possible, in life as in love, is in growth, in fluidity – in freedom” ― Anne Morrow Lindbergh, Gift from the Sea

    Life isn’t always the highlight reel moments, for we’d quickly grow bored with epic living day-after-day until we meet our infinity. No, the mind and body need challenges to hone, and rest to recover, each in their time. We need our rainy days and Mondays to rest up for all that this world may offer us should we rise to meet it. Some days are ripe and full of wonder, others are relatively inconsequential, save for the urgency of maintaining our chain of days. To live to fight another day, if you will.

    Ann Morrow Lindbergh was married to the most famous man in the world when she wrote the words quoted above. She was also an accomplished aviator herself, which is somehow lost in the shadow of history as her husband took the spotlight. Yet she achieved a bit of immortality herself, didn’t she? Knowing something of their lives, I don’t aspire to be like the Lindberghs, but they do serve as a clear example of the ebb and flow of life.

    Relationships hit their high marks and low moments. Work, travel, health… each rise and fall in their time. We become resilient in weathering the storms life throws our way, and we embrace with vigor the good times for having persevered through the bad times. We all have these dalliances with light and darkness, don’t we? What do we learn from them?

    This too shall pass, we all learn in our lifetime. This applies equally to the good times as the bad. It’s fair to ask, what are we flowing towards, and what are we receding from? We are what we put our focus on, and each of us must develop resiliency and independence to survive and grow. And when we fill our lives with people who lift us up, the ebbs are more sustainable, and the flows just may be magical.

  • Savoring Moderate Consumption

    “Thrift isn’t stinginess. It’s a cure for overconsumption.” — Stanley Tucci

    We are spiraling headfirst into the consumption holidays. In many ways it’s already begun with Halloween, didn’t it? Purchase one bag of candy more than we really need to, and suddenly the pants are a bit snugger than they were a few weeks ago. Autumn days are days to eat, drink and be merry. It’s a time to celebrate the harvest. Many of us take this a step too far—one “bite-sized” candy bar after another, washed down with a pumpkin spiced latte and the abandonment of all reason.

    Watching Stanley Tucci’s magnificent Searching for Italy, the episode that struck me most profoundly was Episode 8: Liguria in which he savors traditional Genoese pesto recipes and walks the barren cliffside olive plantations. This is not a place where you are burdened with such things as too many Thanksgiving pies to choose from, this is a place where you savor the ingredients you can muster up from the land and sea.

    There’s no magic in a drive-thru, only convenience. And we may appreciate convenience, but do we savor it? Distracted eating serves our busy lifestyles, but is there any nuance in consumption when it’s lost in the moment of defensive driving or determined scrolling? There can be no savoring when multitasking. When we deliberately focus on the food we suddenly we realize just what we’re shoveling into our mouths. This moment may delight or horrify us.

    Savoring is the key to an extraordinary life. If overconsumption and gluttony are the antithesis of savoring, then it stands to reason that to live an exceptional life we ought to be more thrifty in our consumption. To savor life means to slow down and appreciate what the world offers to us in the moment. This is celebratory, but not overindulgent. It is a dance with life, one small and delightful bite at a time.

  • Memories Are Made of This

    Stir carefully through the days
    See how the flavor stays
    These are the dreams you will savor
    — Dean Martin, Memories Are Made Of This

    Life is never perfect, but we may build a lovely dream when we have the right recipe. It starts with good health, a sound mind, and the environment we find ourselves in. When you’re surrounded by people who lift you up with their buoyancy, it’s hard to sink too far beneath the surface. When you’re surrounded by sharks, well, life is a game of survival. When we have the agency to choose, we must swim away from the sharks.

    If this sounds overly optimistic, well, let’s be realistic for a moment. Life hands us both lemons and hand grenades now and then, and we can’t always control the outcome of any situation we find ourselves living in. But too often we use this as an excuse to throw our hands up and blame fate on our circumstances. We have more of a say in the quality of our lives than we admit.

    We vote for our identity in our daily actions. We may build our own dream, stirred carefully with bits of joy and love, honed with determination and agency, and maintained with fitness and love. These are the dreams we will savor in our lifetime.

  • The Attractiveness of Adventure

    “The very basic core of a man’s living spirit is his passion for adventure. The joy of life comes from our encounters with new experiences, and hence there is no greater joy than to have an endlessly changing horizon, for each day to have a new and different sun.” — Christopher McCandless

    Watching the eclipse of the moon this morning, I thought about how beautiful it was, but also about who was actually seeing it with me. The adventurous are always attracted to others with the same gumption to do outrageous things. Those who seek to wring the most out of life are appealing to those who aspire to add vibrancy and sparkle to their days.

    Right on cue my bride stepped outside, groggy and unsteady, but willing to give it a go with the moon and binoculars. It’s not the first micro adventure I’ve coaxed her towards, and I appreciate her willingness to subtract sleep for experience. Box checked, she was back to her appointment with her pillow.

    Lingering with the moon a bit longer, I thought about the attractiveness of adventure. We seek adventure to feel most alive, and naturally feel the energy emanating from similar spirits. This is true in youth, but equally true as we age. Some of the most vibrant people I’ve known are most attractive because they live a full life. They live outside the norms of society, breaking the established “rules” for living a typical life in favor of adventure. You simply can’t live your own full life inside the box someone else built for you.

    A sustained, vibrant life builds upon itself, it doesn’t subtract years from our lives through poor choices. Aliveness and vitality are the opposite of self-destructiveness and living on borrowed time. Bad habits will choke the life right out of us, so we ought to choose wisely in our quest for adventure. By all means, listen to your mother and wear sunscreen, but don’t hide behind the shades your whole life.

    We never know what we’ll attract into our life until we step out of the cage. Joyful experience is indeed attractive, and we become more attractive in our aliveness. The living are most attracted to those who live a full, adventurous life. A richer life experience, engagement with others living on a higher plane, and deeper realization of our full potential await us when we live our lives with an adventurous spirit.

    I’ll see you out there.

  • Personal Summits and the Pursuit of Vibrancy

    “There is an ecstasy that marks the summit of life, and beyond which life cannot rise. And such is the paradox of living, this ecstasy comes when one is most alive, and it comes as a complete forgetfulness that one is alive.” — Jack London, Call of the Wild

    Usain Bolt is 36 years old as I write this. He’s a young man, nowhere near his peak in life, but well past his peak as the fastest man alive during a string of unforgettable Olympic performances. Some people, like gymnasts and figure skaters, reach their physical peak even sooner than sprinters. Are they all past their moment of ecstasy? I should think not. They’ve descended from that summit and begun their climb up another.

    There are naturally many peaks and valleys in a lifetime, but two obvious benchmarks are physical fitness and mental fitness. When do we reach our peak with each? Physically it’s likely when we’re younger, relative to a lifetime. Mentally, well, who’s to say we can’t reach our summit towards the very end of life? The combination of the two equals a level of vibrancy worthy of the pursuit, for in pursuing vibrancy for our entire lifetime we’re extending the potential of ecstatic living well beyond the norm.

    In my mind, there are few sins so egregious as extending life without health. This is important. It does not matter if we can extend lifespans if we cannot extend healthspans to an equal extent. And so if we’re going to do the former, we have an absolute moral obligation to do the latter.
    David A. Sinclair, Lifespan: Why We Age—and Why We Don’t Have To

    If there’s a call to arms in Jack London’s Call of the Wild quote, it’s to remember that we’re alive for a very brief time, and we ought to work to extend our functional vitality for as long into our senior years as possible. And as Sinclair says, there’s an obligation to improve health for the long haul, not just the healthcare industry’s obligation, but ours. That begins with fitness and nutrition, exploration and stretching our perceived limits, and of course moderation and omission. We weren’t put here to live in a bubble and eat nothing but kale, that’s not ecstasy, instead we ought to seek activity that enriches us, gaze upward and climb towards higher summits than we might have otherwise. And in the process, use the climb to look around and appreciate just how far we’ve come.

    Slàinte Mhath!

  • Realizing the Benefits of Repetitive Action

    “One thing I’ve found… the road rarely rises up to meet you until you’ve begun walking.” — Michele Jennae

    On my one day off this weekend, on a day of rest no less, I walked twenty thousand steps around my house while pruning trees and shrubs, raking up leaves onto a tarp and hauling them into the woods beyond the fence out back. For good measure, I mowed the front lawn with my push mower to get every last leaf off that lawn. As I write this it’s still dark outside, but I imagine that it’s chock full of leaves again. The oak trees delight in teasing me just so: waiting until the day is done and sprinkling their gifts all over. I’ve come to accept this as the price of keeping the trees when I built this house almost 24 years ago. They were here first and deserve to have their say.

    We either have a bias towards action or we don’t. Is life meant to be spent doing things or lounging around in leisure? I know plenty of folks who embrace the latter. That’s not my way. Spending my one day of rest actively cleaning the yard may seem useless at best, and a frivolous abuse of my brief time on this earth at worst, especially considering that there will be even more leaves sprinkled on the lawn today. Action ought to be married with productivity or it ought not be done, you might point out fairly.

    Yard work should be viewed in the same way that we view doing the dishes or making the bed. Eventually we’ll have to do it all over again, and over and over again still, but that doesn’t make it less worthwhile for having done it today. It’s the price of greatness in a world filled with average performers. We either pay someone to do the work or do it ourselves. There’s an opportunity cost in either choice, and we must ask where we receive the best return on our time investment.

    The thing is, we often know what we’re missing out on when we choose one thing over another, but a bias towards action requires we make a decision and embrace all that comes with it. This applies equally to a career, a marriage, raising children, writing, or a hundred other things. Things like raking leaves instead of hiking or watching a football game. Life is what we make of it: to be meaningful and productive, it requires that we follow through on one decision after another to the best of our ability.

    Showing up for our work every day can feel a lot like raking those leaves. We know that there will be more to do tomorrow and the next day. But repetition pays dividends through discipline. The benefit of repetitive action isn’t just the momentarily completed job at hand, it’s the person we become by following through on our commitment to ourselves day-after-day. As Aristotle said, we are what we repeatedly do.