Alexandersmap

    Category: Fitness

    • Making Full Use of the Decade

      “Don’t try to be young. Just open your mind. Stay interested in stuff. There are so many things I won’t live long enough to find out about, but I’m still curious about them. You know people who are already saying, ‘I’m going to be 30—oh, what am I going to do?’ Well, use that decade! Use them all!”
 — Betty White

      If life is a series of time buckets, we ought to be making the most of each bucket we happen to reside in at this particular stage of our life. My entire life transformed from 10 to 20, and again from 20 to 30, and so on to now. The decade I’m in has been revelatory for the transformation it has brought to my life and for the speed with which it’s going by. It all flies by, we just have to make full use of the time.

      Each decade is a climb, and climbs are filled with setbacks, false summits, detours and exhausting ascents that seem to go on forever without relief. Alternatively, we might look at the decade as meandering through a maze, encountering all sorts of interesting or even terrifying paths, with a series of dead ends we must back away from, before we reach the other side. Whatever life means to us, it ought to be exhilarating and interesting as we begin each day, for this stage of our lives is rapidly coming to an end, and the next is just around the corner.

      The key is staying interested, as Betty White pointed out, and with our interest sparked getting fired up for the next. To explore what lies just beyond where we’ve been thus far is a lifetime adventure which we can all subscribe to. Be bold! This next decade will fly by too, and what will our memories be then? We must exploit each leap into the unknown for all it offers in order to live a full life.

    • Kicking Life Down the Curb

      “Any idiot can face a crisis; it’s this day-to-day living that wears you out.” ― Anton Chekhov

      The leaves are falling down pretty quickly now. I type this knowing the truth of that statement: I’ll soon need to clean the pool one last time before putting the cover on and shutting it down until April. Having a pool at all is a luxury in this mad world and I appreciate it for all that it offers, but understand there’s a tax that comes with owning one. The tax is time and attention that might be applied to something else. Everything has its season.

      A pool, like people, grows weary over time. Parts wear out and need to be repaired or replaced. There’s a cost to this and one wonders how long to keep going with it before you just stop using it altogether. It would make a lovely frog pond, as the frequent visitors attest before I scoop them out and relocate them. Yes, there’s a season for a pool in a lifetime. There’s a season for a lot of things. One day the season will end, in the meantime we kick decisions like what to do about that thing down the curb.

      Ah yes, life has its seasons. We grow into some as we grow out of others. The most healthy and vibrant wear out over time. Knowing this, we must not kick life down the curb, but embrace our potential in the here and now. The thing to kick down the curb is the relentless decline of our health and well-being through good choices today. We mustn’t defer living, but rather defer declining through better choices. Sure.

      There’s always something to face—some tax to pay for our day in the sun. And with it there’s also something to kick down the curb. We must remember to make the most of the now we’re in while still preparing for the next. For the next is coming, but the now is flying quickly past.

    • Changing Seasons

      “There is nothing permanent except change.” — Heraclitus

      Somehow cycling season is drawing to a close. Sure, there are plenty of nice days to ride all year, but the challenge is finding enough daylight to ride safely. I’m more grateful for rail trails as the days get shorter. But there’s something to be said for those favorite routes on narrow country roads on a warm, sunny afternoon. I’ll remember a few rides fondly on those cold and dark winter afternoons.

      The obvious thing is that when we spend more time outside, we become more aware of the weather, but also the seasons themselves. A slow turn towards autumn is detectable well before September, a bite to the air in late November will signal a turn towards winter, and so on. Having experienced the seasons, we feel it when there’s a change in the air. Some of us quite literally feel it in our bones. Old injuries become reliable harbingers of a variation from the norm.

      We learn to celebrate every season for the change it brings. We may have our favorites, but there’s joy to be found in each. Often it’s just a matter of stepping outside to see what greets us. These are days we’ll remember as the good old days one day. Days when maybe everything seemed so upside down, but still present the gift of people and places in our lives that one day won’t be. We realize over time that a bit of gratitude for whatever season this happens to be in our lives is what changes everything.

    • The Beauty in Fragility

      I’m stubborn in some ways, no surprise to anyone who knows me, but sometimes I admit it to myself in quiet moments such as the one just before this one. I was thinking specifically about the beautiful Douglas fir beams that I turned into a pergola back in 2007, rotted now and about to be replaced by new fir beams that I just cut yesterday. My bride suggested PVC or some other engineered product that would ensure it would be resilient. A friend told me to just use pressure treated lumber so I never have to do it again. But I have enough plastic in my life. I have enough chemicals swirling around in my microclimate already. I chose like for like.

      When I built it the first time, I looked into cedar or redwood, but the price tag was prohibitive. Honestly, having replaced the wood a couple of times now, I should have just invested in redwood then, but 17 years isn’t bad for painted fir standing against the elements in New Hampshire. How has the last 17 years treated us? When I think about the wooden pergola that I built with my own hands back then, I feel something differently than I do about some more permanent building materials. There’s beauty in fragility. We know it won’t last forever and look at it differently than we look at something that we know will outlive our grandchildren.

      Working with the fir yesterday, I honored the wood and the tree it came from, with careful measurements, deliberate cuts with a jigsaw and slow turns as I moved the beams around to cut the other end. I’m 17 years older than the guy who did this the first time, after all, and slow and deliberate meant I could get out of bed without feeling like I was run over by a truck. I’m not so stubborn that I don’t see I’m fragile too. But more than that, I know this is the last time I’ll ever rebuild this particular pergola. I’m not just honoring the wood and the tree, but my own moment of youthful vigor. For time conquers all, friend, even this amateur craftsman whose seeing the truth in every project.

      Raw cuts awaiting further attention

    • The Summer Rail Trail Ride

      The beauty of rail trails is that it mostly removes the automobile from your list of concerns. There are the occasional road crossings where vehicular traffic must be assessed, and a maintenance truck sometimes makes an appearance, but that’s about it. Living in a town featuring roads with no shoulders for such luxuries as a cyclist or pedestrian sharing the way with a passing automobile (let alone two crossing at the exact same place as said cyclist or pedestrian), I appreciate a great rail trail. And a summer ride on a rail trail is one of the great experiences one can have on two wheels.

      Cape Cod has a few great trails and bikeways, including the Cape Cod Canal Bikeway, the Shining Sea Bikeway and the Cape Cod Rail Trail. Each offers beautiful views, automobile-free running room and great options for stopping for a break along the way. It’s a beautiful way to see corners of Cape Cod you’d otherwise never get to. And so the trails become very popular, especially in the height of summer. This is a blessing (utilization equates to more attention on maintaining and building more rail trails) and a curse (a rail trail crowded with joggers and walkers, kids on bicycles, skateboarders, e-bikes and cyclists looking for a brisk ride present ample opportunity for accidents). Rules of the road ought to be observed by all users of the trails, but inevitably there are plenty who just ignore all others and act like they’re all that matter in this world.

      As with everything, timing is everything. The best time to ride the trail for a brisk workout is early in the morning before the tourists and families arrive. The best time to take a leisurely ride with a stop for an ice cream or lunch is in the afternoon. And the best time to have the entire trail to yourself is on a cold, wet morning in the offseason when nobody in their right mind but a jogger, walker or cyclist would be out on a rail trail. In short, there’s a time and season for everyone on a rail trail, and you’ve just got to learn to find the one that works best for you.

      I’ve managed to go through another summer with only limited hiking and no paddling or sailing. I mourn the lost opportunity but when I reflect on that summer fitness and recreation time being filled with cycling, it doesn’t feel like a loss but an acceptable tradeoff. There’s always autumn for mountains and water sports. A summer of cycling has been a memorable and rewarding pursuit.

    • On Rest and Recovery

      “Human beings used to have this kind of wisdom. But we have lost touch with it. We don’t know how to rest anymore. We don’t allow the body to rest, to release the tension, and heal. We rely almost entirely on medication to deal with sickness and pain.” — Thich Nhat Hanh, No Mud, No Lotus

      After a steady accumulation of miles cycling, I finished my goal last weekend and took a day off to rest and recover. That turned into four full days before I was back on the bike last night, more than I’d expected. But a funny thing happened—my body responded well for having rested. I rode more efficiently, with a higher average speed on the same roads I diligently traversed all summer.

      I agree with Thich Nhat Hanh’s statement wholeheartedly. We don’t know how to rest. And we consume more medication than we ought to instead of letting the body heal naturally. By we I most definitely mean me, but maybe it sounds familiar to you too? Pop a few ibuprofen and get back to the grind, anyone? Watching the Olympics the last couple of weeks, how much tape did we see stretched across athletic bodies? Sure, they’re elite, but my favorite runner has some of that tape across her knee even as I write this. We need more rest, more often, to recovery properly that we may perform at a higher level.

      The thing is, we aren’t getting any younger either. Maybe those Olympic athletes are young and in peak fitness, timed perfectly to perform optimally on the world stage, but that’s not the hand I’ve been dealt at this time in my life. Rest is essential to performance, especially when we add a few trips around the sun to our resume. We forget this because we always could do what we’re trying to do now. But it’s not then anymore, is it?

      If I could do it all over again, I’d build a life with natural sabbaticals built into the year. Teachers have this. So do landscapers and fishermen and ski instructors. We choose careers with a high earning potential instead of high lifestyle potential, and we pay the price over time. We know when we’re in balance and strive to get there when we’re off. Rest and recovery are far more essential to a productive and happy life than simply having the right job title is. Certainly better than popping another pill.

    • Someone Great

      “I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” — Maya Angelou

      I had the opportunity to attend a 40th anniversary party this weekend. I married into the family well after they got married so I wasn’t around for that beginning, but I’ve seen them grow into their relationship, raise children into adulthood and seek out lifetime adventures together. They’re living a life together one should aspire to—present in each other’s lives, adventurous and fun, travelers who arrive in the lives of others when it matters most.

      I’m not the sharpest tack in the drawer, but I know a good thing when I find it. Being someone great in the life of one other life is a great starting point for building a long term relationship. Being great in the lives of your children builds a strong foundation from which they may grow into personal excellence themselves. Being a great friend to someone who is great leads to reciprocal growth for both parties.

      We may dilute ourselves only so much before there’s nothing great left of us. We feel when we’ve entered a vacuum devoid of reciprocity. We must be a friend to the world while understanding that the world will not always be our best friend. The way to stay filled is to find people who return the love and energy we give back to us. Life energy is finite, but infinitely available when we wade into the right stream.

      The trick to any great partnership is sustained momentum built on being present, engaged and equally invested in a hopeful future. For every stumble, there’s a hand lent to getting back up again, for every step forward there’s a hand to lift the other forward with us. Hand-in-hand we may thus move forward through this life together.

    • Turning Into

      Each summer brings with it something new. Perhaps its travel or a new hobby or a significant event that will forever be associated with this season in our lives. So what will mark the summer of 2024?

      This summer I’ve rediscovered the thrill of cycling. It’s not that my road bike wasn’t available to me before this summer, it’s that I walked past it saying “not today” for years. Now that I’ve been accumulating miles on the bike instead of dust, it’s changed my way of looking at this time in my life. I feel like a kid again when I’m riding, and then I profoundly feel my age again when I get up in the morning after a long ride. And that’s okay too, because it’s my body telling me that I did something more than sit on my ass in front of a computer screen all day.

      When we do things we’ve always told ourselves we shouldn’t do because of time or age or maybe what the neighbors will think, we’re putting ourselves in a smaller box. Like a potted planted, we become root-bound when we force ourselves to skate our lane, not trying new things or returning to old things with the enthusiasm of our youth. When we stick to the familiar life becomes quite routine, doesn’t it? We ought to be shattering our self-expectations of what is possible more often. There are no do-overs in this life.

      A couple of rides ago, I reached a point where I could either stay straight and cruise back home after a great ride or turn right and face a steep climb up an unforgiving hill. There would be no shame in sticking to the road I was on (I’d already done a long ride), but I knew the hill would mock me for avoiding it. So I turned right and began a lung-popping climb up the hill. The thing is, it was as hard as I expected it to be but nothing insurmountable. I simply climbed and enjoyed the reward of a more gradual descent down the other side.

      At some point this year the bike will be hanging back on the garage wall, dormant until I rediscover it again. We only have so many rides in our time so it’s essential to know the season we’re in and take full advantage of it. As this summer winds down, what will we celebrate turning into? There’s still time to shatter those expectations we have for ourselves.

    • That Beautiful Moment in Time

      “As soon as a milestone is passed, it’s significance fades, and the focus is shifted to some other marker further down the road. No matter what you do or how satisfying it is in that beautiful moment in time, immediately you want more. You have to, if you want to find out how good you can be.” — Glenn Pendlay

      Watching Olympic athletes perform at the highest levels is inspiring, but it also gives one pause when we consider our own personal best in any comparable activity. The Olympic rowers managed a stroke rate and speed over 2000 meters that I couldn’t imagine in my most fit days, let alone now. The Olympic cyclists just rode 173 kilometers in twice the average speed that I ride 35 kilometers. But comparison is the death of joy, as the saying goes. All that matters is that we are actively improving our own lot and appreciating the work that goes into being elite at any activity.

      Wanting more is natural when we seek to maximize our potential. We must always remember that we’re competing against ourselves, always. What do we wish to excel in? Do we have the physical and mental ability to thrive in that environment? And the most important question of all: What are we willing to sacrifice in our lives to achieve it?

      As Bill Perkins pointed out in his book Die With Zero, we are all given time, health and financial capital in our lifetime. We rarely have the optimal amount of all three at any given time. The key to a great life is to optimize the currency we have in any stage of life. When we’re young we have time and health but usually not much money. When we’re in the middle of our careers we don’t seem to have much time even as we begin to accumulate more money. And of course when we’re old we have time and hopefully enough money to enjoy the time but may not have the health and fitness we had when we were younger. We ought to consider those three currencies we’re all given in our lifetime when weighing when and what to focus on.

      So what are the milestones we’ve reached in our lives? What is the next milestone, given our base level of fitness, time and financial freedom to go after those goals? Don’t we wonder as we clear one milestone after another just how good can we be? If achieving each milestone offers us our unique beautiful moment in time, doesn’t the pursuit of personal excellence—arete—become every more compelling as we climb?

    • The Audacious Turn

      “There’s no glory in climbing a mountain if all you want to do is to get to the top. It’s experiencing the climb itself – in all its moments of revelation, heartbreak, and fatigue – that has to be the goal.” — Karyn Kusama

      This week has been filled with moments of revelation, heartbreak and fatigue. Sure, the Olympics has been jammed with such moments, but really, I’m talking about my own unique combination of work week, exercise regime and writing. Anything that represents the climb for us is bound to be full of highs and lows. The trick is to learn to accept it all and keep climbing.

      What makes life more interesting—the view at the top or the obstacles we navigate along the way? Perhaps a better way to ask that question is, which makes the better story? Life isn’t simply that Instagram post capturing the sunset, pretty as it may be, it’s the hike up to earn it and the careful descent down the rock scramble afterwards that we’ll talk about in the days that follow. The thing about climbing is that even while we’re constantly facing challenges, we grow more and more prepared to tackle such things. We grow more fit, more resilient, more determined to do just a little bit more tomorrow. And live to tell the tale.

      This summer has been a reacquaintance with cycling. There are rides I’ve done recently that I wouldn’t have done a month ago. I’ve noticed that the more I ride the less I go to the rail trails. Sure, we can ride them every day and avoid most climbs and vehicle traffic, but what have we experienced? The steep hills I opted out of climbing before are worth tackling now because I’m less intimidated by the climb and because flat gets boring. We do the work that we may climb, and so it follows that we must climb when we’ve done the work.

      That nagging voice is reminding me that there are other hills that I keep riding past in my life in favor of easier rides. There are chapters to write that haven’t been written, awaiting a bolder version of me. We can go an entire lifetime saying we’ll do the tough work tomorrow and never make the audacious turn up that hill. Then again, we can simply be bold today and see how it plays out. We are here to experience it all, aren’t we? So what perceived limitations will we test in our life today?