Alexandersmap

    Category: Fitness

    • A Hike to Waterville Cascades

      This hike was meant to be a compromise to myself. No salt water weekend, no longer hikes to knock off another 4000 footer or three. But still spectacular, still a light workout on a beautiful trail, and the real payoff; seven waterfalls in a relatively short span.

      I had my doubts. You walk to the trailhead at Waterville Valley Resort and see right away that this hike is going to start between the road and some of the village condos. But you cross a road and leave most of that behind you. From then on you are hiking a pleasant trail to the first waterfall and not really seeing many people (for me, a Saturday afternoon).

      The Cascade Trail is a 3 mile round trip to the Waterville Cascades. The silence of the forest is notable and welcome. You quickly forget that you’re in close proximity to a ski resort, and instead immerse yourself in hiking relatively pristine second growth forest that wraps itself around you and shuts out the outside world. Before you know it the hike brings you to the first cascade on Cascade Brook, a series of seven plunges that feel bigger and more remote than they really are.

      But there are reminders of the alternative paths to the falls. We met a group we’d seen in the parking lot that opted to ride the chairlift up instead of hiking. We spoke to another couple of guys on mountain bikes who had ridden up to the falls to soak in the swimming holes. Both conversations reminded us that there were other faster ways to reach the cascades than hiking. We saw sad proof of this when we passed a pyramid of empty Bud Lite cans that some fools had stacked alongside the brook. Without a backpack for this short hike I had to leave this mess for someone else to deal with. Not everyone who ventures into the woods leaves them as they found them. This is the price of proximity.

      But the falls themselves were each wonders, and we celebrated the unique beauty of each as we climbed higher and higher up the trail. When you reach the last big cascade there’s a bridge for a mountain bike trail that you can cross to descend the other side and return you to the Cascade Trail and your hike back down.

      I’m interested in how people meet the falls. Some are reverent and respectful, some more nonchalant about the experience. I think it’s relative to how much work you put in towards reaching them, and the path you chose for yourself. But that may seem dismissive and smug when a hiker says it. More specifically, it’s not the work you put into reaching it, it’s how your attitude when you reach it that matters most.

      The work-to-reward ratio of the Waterville Cascades makes it an easy choice. The proximity of that resort comes in handy for lunch or dinner and a restroom afterwards. The entire experience reminds you that finding beautiful in this world isn’t all that hard if you just put yourself out there to meet it.

    • Accepting Whatever

      “Flow with whatever is happening and let your mind be free. Stay centered by accepting whatever you are doing. This is the ultimate.” – Zhuang Zhou

      Being present in the moment requires a level of surrender that my mind doesn’t easily achieve. So I trick it with the odd mundane task like picking cherry tomatoes or deadheading the geraniums or some such thing. It’s in moments like these that I finally reach the ultimate. It won’t last, but my mind and heart sync for a few beats.

      Now is more easily achieved when hiking through a quiet forest or paddling across still water. In these situations the vastness of the universe shrinks down to the immediacy of the next step or the next dip of the paddle as drops of water sprinkle down on you from the opposite, raised blade. Your restless mind has no say in the matter in such moments. It’s just you and whatever you are doing.

      I should think that I might never reach some of the things my mind wrestles with. I should think I’ll pass one day having left too much on the table. I may curse the folly of an unfocused mind in that last moment, or celebrate the stillness that awaits me. You aren’t free until you realize that that moment is now.

    • Patterns of Action

      “There are cues and subtle aspects you can only pick up through a person-to-person interaction—such as a way of doing things that has evolved through much experience. These patterns of action are hard to put into words, and can only be absorbed through much personal exposure.” – Robert Greene, Mastery

      If we were to agree that activity is a key performance indicator, then you might learn a lot about someone’s direction from their level of activity. But as anyone who’s worked in an office for any amount of time knows, you can easily skew the numbers with busywork. We all know people who are masters of the metrics game. But in the end all that matters is results.

      Key Performance Indicators (KPI’s) are the metrics identified as important indicators towards the progression and eventual completion of an objective. If that sounds pretty dry, well, welcome to the world of corporate metrics. Put another way, it’s reading the tea leaves to see what the patterns are. Patterns of action indicate our direction because they’ve indicated the direction others have taken before us. What works for you should work for me, the thought process goes. Of course, everyone and every situation is different. The art of leadership (or self-leadership) is in seeing what to focus on.

      When you want to change something about yourself, what do you do first? We can stay very busy messing about with planning and preparation. There are people who build entire careers around each. I have a workout plan that will have me winning the next Olympics in rowing, should I ever follow through on it. I won’t follow through on it.

      And that’s the key point. Life is about execution and following through on what you say you’re going to do. There are clear patterns of action that get you there, one step at a time, if you’ll choose to take them. Measuring activity isn’t the point, the point is to manage patterns of productive activity that are generally agreed upon to take us from where we are to where we want to be and turn them into results. Take action, note the results, and take action again. Repeat.

      That feeling of “stuck” we get when we aren’t seeing progress is an indicator that we’re mired in busywork but not meaningful patterns of action. We must either pivot to other goals or face the truth that we aren’t working on the things that really matter. Our patterns of action are all wrong. See the truth for what it is, and then do something about it.

    • 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.

    • Slow Down

      “Drink your tea slowly and reverently, as if it is the axis on which the world earth revolves – slowly, evenly, without rushing toward the future.” – Thich Nhat Hanh

      Some of us have a tendency to rush through things. Eat too fast, drink too heartily, blunder through introductions, breeze through chapters and rush from place-to-place, even on vacations. It’s a way to cut to the chase: to get to the result in the shortest amount of time.

      We know this isn’t the way. Our bodies tell us this when we eat or drink too fast, our minds tell us this when we try to remember the salient point of a book we read a year ago, and we kick ourselves when we learn about that special place we missed that was right around the corner from the spot we rushed to where you and everyone else took their Instagram picture.

      Savor the moment. Slow down a beat, and maybe even another beat beyond that. Appreciate the progression of the moment for all the ripe possibility it offers. The change in the light. The gradual temperature change in a cup of tea. The last few sentences that end a chapter and set up the next. Immerse yourself in now.

      There is no rushing to the future. The present is all that matters. Slow down.

    • The Great Falmouth Drop-Off

      Every year, except for last year, I find myself crawling along in a traffic jam just after dawn, patiently waiting for an opportunity to drop off a car full of runners for the Falmouth Road Race. As a committed non runner, it’s admittedly an odd position to put myself in. But we do what we must for those we love.

      The Falmouth Road Race was established in 1973, beginning at one bar and winding seven picturesque miles along the coast to another bar. It quickly became a destination race for a mix of international runners, including Olympians and elite runners, but largely recreational runners of varying abilities. That bit about beginning at one bar and ending at another is an important piece of information. For it means moving thousands of runners from one place to another at the beginning of the day. Which brings us to the great drop-off.

      Runners gather at the Lawrence School in Falmouth for the bus ride to Woods Hole for the start of the race. Runners are supposed to be at the school by 7 AM, which creates a crush of traffic most years as those seeking a parking spot mix with those dropping off runners. Add in thousands of runners walking from local homes and inns and you’ve got a recipe for gridlock as all navigate the local neighborhoods in this small town.

      2021, with a reduced number of participants, lightened the traffic considerably, but it didn’t eliminate it. This is the price you pay for participation in a great race, with both a local and international vibe. For all the madness, everyone is there to have a good time on a summer day.

      After dropping off runners spectators strategically position themselves at key viewing spots. My preferred location gives me a chance to see my favorite runners twice: just after the 6 mile mark and again at the finish. Don’t tell anyone though, it’s already getting pretty crowded here. With COVID considerations addressed, isn’t it nice being around people again?

    • No Likeness to That Human World Below

      You ask me:
      Why do I live
      On this green mountain?
      I smile
      No answer
      My heart serene
      On flowing water
      Peachblow
      Quietly going
      Far away
      Another earth
      This is
      Another sky
      No likeness
      To that human world below
      ~Li Po, On The Mountain: Question And Answer
      (translated by C.H. Kwôck & Vincent McHugh)

      Three days later and I’m still on a mountaintop. The aches and pains fade but the glow of walking the ridge line between peaks stays with me. And I wonder at this world I’ve created for myself, pressed in close to a desk, laptop at the ready, always asking for more. The mountains don’t ask for anything of you, but it’s understood that they demand respect.

      Solo hiking, for all the social abuse I receive for it, offers meditation and a connection to the mountains that you don’t get with even the quietest, most reverent hiking buddy. So occasionally I like to indulge in time alone on trails, walking until my own voice finally stops talking to me and I begin at last to listen to the song of the infinite.

      Yet you’re never quite alone in the mountains. There’s always a fellow hiker on a pilgrimage of their own, with a knowing look and a brief exchange before turning their attention back to the trail. The mountains aren’t entirely about solitude, for there are more people than ever on the trails. And every one of us with a reason for being up there.

      There’s an energy that you draw on when hiking with others. A momentum of common purpose, shared struggle, and shared beliefs. I do like hiking with others, quite a lot, and look forward to sharing the mountains with them again soon. Just give me a moment alone with this sky before I reluctantly descend to that human world below. Where I’ll plot my return.

    • Prepping the Night Before

      On the fence about whether to hike a pair of 4000 footers, I decided to just start getting my pack ready, just in case. When the backpack was ready, the boots and hiking clothes laid out, it became a foregone conclusion that I’d actually get up and go at 4:30 AM. But it all started with packing that backpack.

      There’s nothing revolutionary about putting your workout clothes out, or getting your bag packed for an early flight. The work you put in the night before sets the tone for the morning. You don’t forget important things, you aren’t scrambling to find things that you swore were right where you left them the last time you hiked. But mostly, you do what you said you were going to do. Waking up to the alarm with everything laid out eliminates excuses, and pokes you with some positive pressure: I got everything ready, the least I could do is get my ass out of bed and get to it.

      So when you’re on the fence, or when it really matters that you follow through, prep the night before. It’ll make all the difference the next morning. Just remember to set the alarm!

    • Is This Enough?

      “Whoever is not in his coffin and the dark grave, let him know he has enough.” – Walt Whitman

      The nagging begins in weak moments of fatigue or boredom or frustration: “More“, the voice says. “I want more” it persists. And the voice bleeds over to the blog now and then, with complaints about not being out there in the world, not finishing that book, not reaching that fitness goal…. whatever.

      The moment you woke up this morning you had enough. More than old Walt has, more than every person you can even think of born before 1900 and most of those born before 1921. A hundred short years and most everyone you can ever think of as being alive vanishes to the other side of life. So who are we, complaining about enough?

      Feel life wash over you, in each breath and heartbeat and blink of an eye. For it is enough. That life is outrageously unfair is well-documented. That we might make a difference if we worked just a bit harder is indeed possible. But never forget in those moments of fatigue and boredom and frustration that this business of being alive today is just audacious enough in itself to celebrate the moment.