An object at rest

Static, staid, slumbering

Lacking locomotion



Sitting still and waiting till

An outside force interrupts



Slow, steady, sputtering

Burgeoning direction



In motion and maintaining momentum

As energy efficiently builds



Swift, certain, soaring

Body in motion

Thanks...for giving

With Thursday’s tryptophan infused frenzy starting to wear off I’m noticing a distinctly self-reflective bent to my thought process. After all the talk of thanking and giving it that it is my mind and not my stomach that is refusing to settle. “What am I striving for, and why? Are my aims altruistic or self serving?” And on and on and on.



A recent article in the most current issue of Outside Magazine posited that the marketing tactics used to sell soft drinks and toilet paper should be used to “sell” charities and causes. The reason? People want to feel good when they give. They want the warm-fuzzy feeling that comes from knowing that their $5 bought a book for the little girl with an exotic name. Donating that same $5 to fight something like “AIDS in Africa” doesn’t deliver the same emotional bang for the buck. The AIDS crisis is too big, too difficult, and too mired in dry statistics for most people to really get excited about. While the real need is unquestionably greater, the perceived impact that one person can have is diminished.



That brings me back to me. I’m confident that I really do want to “help people”. But, my own experience with clients tells me that the “lost cause” is much harder to get behind than the “success story”. In such situations I am usually quick to say “I can’t help someone who isn’t will to help themselves”, but I think that is only half of it. The other part of it is “I can only help someone who is helping me.”



I imagine that many people find themselves in situations where they are called to give, of money, time, or themselves, and they subconsciously weigh their emotional balance sheet. With the ideal of “giving freely” and selflessly at stake, it might be uncomfortable to consider selfish giving as the rule rather than the exception, but perhaps it’s a more honest, and not necessarily a wrong, position.



Perhaps in recognizing our deep seated motivations we can more effectively harness our own desire to do good and to feel good about it. Besides, who can argue against feeling like you are making a difference; that you are, in some small way, bringing about change in the world? When looking at a situation that seems utterly bleak and hopeless, zero in on something that is that is tangible and achievable to you. When you’ve successfully done your part, look for the next opportunity, and the next.



You’ll be more willing to make a dent in some of the world’s big problems when you can see your initials in the mark.

Step away from the hamster wheel

Have you ever tried to lose weight or get in shape? You probably started out by purchasing a new piece of exercise equipment or picking up a copy of the latest “revolutionary” book promising “a new you in 30 days or less”. Next question, are you still trying?



Consider for a moment the fact that the “fitness industry” is based on people trying without ever actually succeeding. If people actually did reach their goals, there would be no “next big thing” and the endless parade of products and promises would have no audience. The marketing of fitness products is ironically no different than that of fast food. No one is really asking for a five-patty hamburger or an “ab lounge”. What people want is the emotion that is being sold.



By selling “manliness” or “attractiveness” companies can generate huge profits while selling inferior products. Whether it is “cheap” plastic or “cheap” meat is immaterial to the corporate shills that see only dollar signs. The cost to our environment, our health, and our future as a species is brushed under the rug as long as the stockholders are happy and expectations for this quarter are met.



The good news is that this system is as solid as a house of cards. By spending some time away from the incessant barrage of messaging and media you give yourself the space to discover what you truly need. Go for a walk in a park or in the woods, play with your kids, or meditate on the silence within. You don’t need any more than what you already have, you might even need less.



And, you might even find that you stop trying and start doing.

the swiftness

Errands to run, forget the car! No time to waste; grab wallet, and get…bike…out...the… door. Watch out lizards!



Super Walmart in my sights; can’t believe they sold me this junk. Cheap ain’t cheap when it’s costs so much.



Hit the intersection, hit the button, hit the button, hit the button. Hit and run, not today. Watch out buddy, respect the right of way.



Busting turns, jumping curbs, who wants to drive? Besides, wilderness resides in retention ponds and this old Mc Donald’s never seen a farm. Meanwhile Wal-mart rises up, a cathedral of consumption. The smell, it saturates everything, but the savings, the savings! Everyday their managers are raving about customers and associates complaining.



Escape the asphalt asylum and get back to grey skies and a cool breeze. Pedal as fast as I can and coast through the urban jungle. Summer’s dead and gone; hear fall’s death knell ringing? The underbrush is going brown, bougainvillea with jaundiced leaves line the street and only the golf course is green.



Today I’m freer on two wheels than four and the rules are out the window. Liberally going against the grain, riding against traffic, reckless and half-ecstatic a light pack bouncing against my back. But isn’t it ironic? The Sport’s Authority lacks a rack! “Hey man, do you mind if park this baby inside?”



I’m on the road trading exhaustion for exhilaration, surrendering to the speed, careening down the street, and loving every minute. As soon as the burn hits your legs, it hurts so well. Why not feel real?



Walgreens says halt, but half-off Halloween candy can’t stop this train. Can’t say the same about 24 ounces of energy, and only $2.99!



Look at the little people in little boxes, warped metal and mental. Maybe they’re asleep at the wheel?



Hurry to the homely homestead up ahead. A final push and down to earth, but not for long.



Bike + errands = adventure

The sweet science and the bitter pill

“WHAM!” Dazzling lights streaked across my vision and, in a sudden dilation of time, I had the thought “so this is why they call it ‘seeing stars””. Through my blurred vision, I saw my sparring partner mouth the words “Sorry man!” I staggered over to Coach Todd and noticed that he looked worried, which made me worry. “Are you alright?” he asked. Through my mouthpiece I mumbled “You tell me.” Although my right cheek was totally numb, I feared that shock had disguised a much more grievous wound. While my imagination conjured up images of hideous facial trauma, Coach informed me that I was officially “done”. Shaken, I stepped through the ropes and out of the ring. It took all of 30 seconds for me to go from feeling like a champ to chump.



Earlier that day, I had tried to talk myself out of going to the Saturday sparring session at Gym Rat Boxing. With only four hours of sleep and a full day of work under my belt, I was deliriously exhausted. Sensing weakness, my mind took the opportunity to offer up some tempting rationale. “There’s a company picnic today,” it whispered, “You should go network and eat pie”. The machinations of my fearful psyche gradually intensified and I was a hair’s breadth away from succumbing when I had a flash of insight. “Maybe I’m trying to avoid going because I know I need to go!” I silently exclaimed, “I’m resisting the inevitable hand of fate!” My desire to save face with the guys at Gym Rat in addition to my plans for watching the UFC 105 pay-per-view later that night probably had something to do with it too.



My sparring partner “Dave” had encouraged me to take it easy on him because he was an “old man”. While this was an obvious ruse, there was also a glaring hole in my defense that had heretofore gone unnoticed. I had the tendency to hold my right hand a little lower than would be prudent, and with a crisp left hook, Dave made this painfully obvious. Of course, Coach Todd has mentioned this to me before, (“You’re dropping your damn hand!”) but previous sparring partners had not created much of an incentive to really take this advice to heart.



I ended up finishing out the day humbled but determined. Not only did I earn my first-ever black eye, but I also came away with greater self confidence; as a fighter, a husband, an employee, and friend. I walked into the fire and got burned, but I would be back.

Fear factor

Uncertainties stir subconscious sediment,

Clouding the waters of the mind,



Anxiously watching the tick, tick, tock of the clock,

Drawing closer to the moment of doubt,


The urge is to escape.





Fear feeds on the unknown,

Watering a plot of weeds,



Merciless Anger lashes out,

Bleeding wounds can’t hide the pain,



The unseen itches.



A thread reaches through the maelstrom,

Finding purchase in the murky depths,



Courage wound with trepidation,

In stillness lies strength,



The crucible awaits.

An insect diaspora meets with disaster

What's war

Running circles ‘round the center

Drawing lines in the sand

Hiding fear deep in trenches

Issuing demands

Armored arms pounding war drums

Blood spilt over the land

The lonely battle rages

In a final desperate stand

Scorched earth or surrender

The choice is in your hand

From here to there

Weaving cloth from nettles

Function dictates form

Inscribed into the ether

There is an inevitable march

Anxiously awaiting amid memories

Hostile thoughts take over

A friendly face breaks the ice

Opening a door

Fortune smiles upon the traveler

An opportunity to arrive

Subtle energies speak

Adjust the volume accordingly

At the intersection of infinity

I’ll meet you in the middle

Suffer the mind

The sun was hot on my bare shoulders the late-afternoon air was warm and thick. My ears were full of the sound of passing cars and the slap, slap, slapping of my dead sneakers on the sidewalk. In a futile attempt to shield my eyes, I momentarily disrupted the pendulum swing of my arms to pull down the brim of my hat. Still squinting, I surveyed the road ahead. This was the back end of a four mile run and my goal was to finish the second half faster than the first. Checking my watch revealed that I had some work to do if I hoped to make that happen.

Physically, I was experiencing the normal symptoms of fatigue; a slight burning in my chest, my heart audibly pounding, and rivulets of sweat streaming from innumerable pores. Mentally, however, I cycled between the "now-here", positive self-talk, and suffering.

Whenever I thought about how far away my goal was, the physical sensation of fatigue became pain. My breath labored, my muscles protested, and my resolve weakened. Instead of taking one step at a time, I was suddenly taking every step between "here" and "there" all at once.

Recognizing the snowballing cascade of negative thoughts, I reeled in my mind and focused it in a more positive angle. The perennial Nike slogan “just do it” just so happened to arise from this directive. The mantra slowly became quieter as I realized that I didn’t need to belabor myself with thoughts at all. For a moment, the chatter dimmed and my mind was clear. In this space, I was aware of my body and my surroundings. There was no suffering, only the knowledge that I could relax and be here indefinitely. Noticing the silence set off another barrage of mental turbulence, but rather than fighting it, I rode it like a wave.

After what seemed like an eternity locked in a psycho-spiritual ju-jitsu match, the entrance to my neighborhood came into view. With the final goal fast approaching, I pushed even harder, goading my body to speed up. I reacted to any thoughts of slowing down by increasing my velocity even more. Far beyond my anaerobic threshold, I could feel the intensity driving acidic waste into my muscles, shutting them down one fiber at a time. With only a few steps left to go, I fought on.

I crossed the four mile threshold, and allowed momentum to carry me to a stop. Transitioning into a labored walk, I made a bee-line for the pool, where after pulling off my watch and sneakers, I toppled into the cool water.

Floating in the liquid medium I was free to appreciate the spoils of my inner war; confidence, a deep sense of satisfaction, and a bowl of cereal waiting for me back home.

You're a failure? Great!

“If at first you don’t succeed, try and try again,” right? Well, maybe. Success is a slippery concept and it is rarely black, white, or even a shade of grey. Evidence of this can be found in sayings such as “today’s success is tomorrow’s failure” and “don’t rest on your laurels”. Definitions aside, “success” is something that we all seek, whether a hermit chasing nirvana or an executive making a profit. Everybody has their eye on a prize.

Our hunger for success is so great that it feeds an entire “successory” industry. Tour the offices of any company and you will surely see inspirational posters featuring plants and animals in precarious situations, mugs emblazoned with encouraging mantras, and innumerable books all claiming to hold the secret of fiscal, interpersonal, or spiritual success. As far as I can tell, diligent practice and a little bit of luck is the only real “secret”. It would make for a short book but it may work as a poster.

But failure, now that’s a juicy topic. It is my assertion the word “failure” is bogus. The idea that we can fail has no real basis in Truth (capital “T” emphasized). Take learning to walk. A toddler isn’t failing every time he or she lands on their backside. Each attempt is providing valuable information that allows the body to generate the proper coordination, strength, and confidence that walking requires. Each “failed” attempt was a step towards “successful” walking. So does that not make them one and the same? Even the idea of some static end result, walking upright in this case, is an illusion. We continue to refine our ability to walk as we develop and eventually we discover that from walking comes running, jumping, and boogying.

The crucible of success requires that one be open to taking chances, risking disappointment, and experiencing failure. So, put down your Tony Robbins book, get out of your comfort zone, and have an epic fail!

Lessons from the ring

As the saying goes, “it’s the ones you don’t see coming.”

Standing in a boxing ring, outfitted with overstuffed 20oz gloves, claustrophobic headgear, and a crotch protector that resembled an adult diaper, I faced down my opponent. Almost 10 years his senior, I was confident that I would be dominant. A belief that was bolstered by earlier practice rounds which had inflated my confidence to a dangerous level. As it would seem, my reach gave me a decisive advantage when we were limited only to jabs, but this round was “everything goes”.

The bell rang and I moved in. I pressed him with my jab, a technique that had previously proved successful, but this time, not so much. Apparently he had been listening to our coach’s advice about countering such an attack and he easily deflected my hand. He came back with a right that inverted my nose. Stunned, I backed out to reevaluate the situation. Sensing that the tables were turning and smelling blood, he now advanced towards me. I attempted to launch my own attacks but I was repeatedly rocked by shots that seemed to come out of nowhere. Mercifully, the bell rang before I sustained any real damage.

With my nose sore and my ego suddenly deflated, I consulted with Coach to find out what I had been doing wrong. He told me that I was throwing my jab incorrectly, setting myself up for a counter punch. Additionally, my stance was such that I minimized rather than maximized my reach advantage. Coach corrected my body position and it felt awkward and unnatural. Having spent the past 9 months practicing martial arts, and the past 3 specifically focused on boxing, I essentially had to go back to the basics and start over.

Eating shots from an opponent that I had underestimated, however, presented me with an opportunity to improve. Of course I could resist my coach’s advice and foolishly persist in my current state. That, however, is an option that will surely result in continued punishment from future opponents. I could also take this set-back as a sign that I’m just not cut out for boxing and that I am simply ‘not good’. To resign myself to such a belief would be easy as I could simply quit boxing and effectively avoid the subsequent egoic beatings persistence guarantees. At this present moment, however, I am determined to take decidedly different path.

Going back and rebuilding my technical foundation will require plenty of work and a commitment to breaking old habits, but I’m game for the challenge. Win or lose, I’ll stay in the fight.

Quiet Strength

Screams and shouts that would curdle milk echo through the iron jungle. Its denizens struggle, huffing, puffing, and straining; bloodshot eyes bulging, and, through the skin, every muscle, tendon, and sinew etched in stark relief. If you’ve ever been to a gym and seen the sweating masses, thoroughly brainwashed by The Governator, Joe Weider, and action movies, you’ve witnessed this scene firsthand. We’ve come to equate strength with strain, and, in this club, patched hernias are worn like a badge of honor. Ironically, icons of sport, both Olympic and professional, such as Michael Jordan, Tiger Woods, Usain Bolt, Michael Phelps, and Roger Federer make it look easy. Sure, they are focused, powerful, and intense, but there is a definite rhythm and flow to their movements.

I found myself reflecting on this as I worked out today. During a particularly painful set of squats I allowed myself to relax and focus on my breathing. Releasing the tension in my neck and face, I refocused my energies entirely on the form of my squat. Range of motion increased, and I completed my repetition goal. Later, I practiced a handstand, and discovered that relaxing allowed me to find my center of balance even while inverted. Straining, holding my breath, and generally forcing the movement in defiance of gravity left me on my back, beaten and battered.

Straining seems to fit pretty well into the American work ethic. If something doesn’t turn out the way you want, don’t accept it, try harder. If someone doesn’t listen to you, talk louder. Unhappy with your life? Spend more money. Don’t like someone else’s way of life? Start a war. Sure this is a simplistic reduction of our culture, but it at least partially rings true. Reactiveness, egoism, and ignorance more often than not, trump responsiveness, selflessness, and understanding. But I digress.

Back to the topic of exercise, contrary to the gasket-blowing exertions of American exercisers, the Chinese have discovered that strength can be concealed in softness. The concept of “iron and silk” is primary to the art of Tai Chi and it refers to the notion that a relaxed body, a focused mind, and open senses can, when called upon, generate uncommon strength.

Additional practices, such as deep breathing, Yoga, and other mind-body systems can also foster the ability to relax under pressure. Benefits in life outside of exercise notwithstanding, learning to relax will lead to a boost in sports performance and reduction in injuries. Tense tight muscles fight against each other and prohibit the complete coordination required to excel in athletics. The ability to learn new techniques can also be improved as impatience and frustration give way to persistence and determination.

So, close your eyes, take a deep breath, and go!

A late summer day dream

I step out of the climate controlled cabin of my car and into the haze.

A fashionably dressed man rollerblades in lazy circles while a manic dog, tongue grossly extended, trots along side its owner.

Bored children fidget and play with soggy pretzel sticks while their sodden parents push.

The pat, pat, pat, of feet, the staccato thrum of insects, and the occasional flatulent call of a water-bird fills my ears.

Wet hot air clings to my skin and soaks through my shirt.

A patch of shade cast by gracious trees offers a cool embrace while the sweet smell of cut grass envelopes everything.

A steady stream of grim facades is broken by the occasional “hello”; there is hope for us after all.

Nature, spinning birth from death, continues its thrall.

Should I stay or should I go now

Heading to the company cafeteria today I had every intention of being reclusive. Go in, load up my tray with day’s fare, find a seat, and stuff my face for 30 minutes. I made it to step three before I noticed that my plan might be compromised.

After settling down to begin my meal I spied a co-worker from my department making her way through the food line. I shuttered at the prospect of awkward conversation interspersed between even more awkward bites of food, so I positioned myself for minimum visibility. To further disguise my presence, I focused intently on my food. I worked the contents of my tray like a sculptor in throes of hewing stone, or metal, or wood into art. Chicken cacciatore, mixed veggies, soup, and salad were my medium and I was not to be disturbed.

“Do you mind if I sit with you?” she said as she took a seat directly across from me. “Of course not!” I chirped, while dying a small inner death. The psychic barrier that I had so meticulously constructed seemed to have had no effect whatsoever. I briefly toyed with the idea of using indiscreet non-verbal communiqués to signal my desire for solitude, but I quickly checked the impulse. Resigned to sociability, I launched into a stream of small talk. Utilizing tactical open-ended questions, I thought that I would at least maximize the amount of time that I had to listen (i.e. eat).

There was a point, where I realized my foolishness; it was also the point where she said something that was genuinely funny and I couldn’t help but laugh. My defenses began to come down and we started to have a real conversation. This person, whom I had written off as less important than my collection of cafeteria eats, turned out to be quite likable.

The flow of the conversation meandered among topics such as the day’s dessert (“Is it a pie? A cookie? A tart?) and international travel. The allotted 30 minutes of break time quickly passed and we said our goodbyes. I was surprised at the feeling of wellbeing that I had, but I also wasn’t. Why would picking the brown bits out of a salad, spooning flavorless soup into my gullet, or quickly downing a bowl of pie/cookie/tart and soft-serve ice cream be more satisfying than experiencing a quality interaction with another human being?

This experience to me is a clear example of how wants and needs are different. I want a lot of things, and most of those things, if acquired, achieved, or experienced would leave me feeling pretty empty inside. I don’t exactly know what my needs are, but I know them when I see them, and I seem to be given ample opportunities to fulfill them.

It’s food for thought.

Playgrounds are for kids?

“Silly Rabbit, Trix are for kids!” jibed the children. The Rabbit, who only wanted to enjoy a bowl of artificially flavored modified food starch based breakfast cereal, would inevitably be thwarted by the end of each commercial, his elan giving way to depression. You might be thinking “Why, on a fitness blog, would you bring up a blatantly manipulative advertising campaign directed at children watching innocent Saturday morning cartoons?” Because YOU don’t want to end up like the Rabbit!

Case in point, on a recent visit to a local park, I noticed a sign at the entrance to the playground that read “Ages 6-11 only”. Six through eleven!? That’s an outrageously brief window of opportunity to play on a playground! “Play” for adults has come to mean organized sports, “adult” activities, or buying expensive things and tooling around like a, well, tool.

Play, in its purest most unpretentious form, is available to all of us and at any age. The sheer joy of bounding around a playground, clambering over obstacles, monkeying across bars, and swinging on swings should never be denied, bottled up, and repressed. How sad is it that society pressures us into redirecting our inner child towards self-destructive surrogates of genuine play.

Of course, the idea that we can experience great happiness and fulfillment freely and without need for addressing ourselves to a cash register is subversive. Our consumer culture functions primarily off of the inverse of this notion. However, if we can release our inhibitions against play without requiring the lubricating effects of drugs or alcohol the bliss of childhood can be relived. Just make sure to hit up the playground while school is in session. Kids always hog the swings.

On Quitting

Enough, I’ve had enough

Long ago grown wearisome

Tired from the fight

Surrender to the flight

Get going, going, gone

When can I stop?

But still I press on

A sliver of strength

Light burning and bright

Eyes wet with knowledge

Stay focused for now

That’s all there is

Learning

Watching, observing, absorbing information

Trial and error, failure upon failure

The body awkward and unwieldy

It clicks, something seems right

Slowly moving towards success

Walking away and coming back

Undaunted in the attempt

The moment arrives unexpectedly

Did I do that? I did!

Now try doing it again

What was once can be repeated

And repeated and repeated

Until smooth and effortless

What’s next?

Discipline? Fun?

Yes, I write a daily “to do” list. There is something powerful about transforming an abstract idea into a tangible scribble of ink on paper. The act seems to create an urgency that doesn’t exist in my head. I tend to be a little ambitious too. For example, I may jot down multiple PFGs (personal fitness goals), writing objectives, and various other consumption based activities that will force me to stretch what is possible for daily allotment of time.

Scratching off completed goals feels even better than writing them down. Working my way down the list I relish in the obliteration of a completed goal that is now a reality. Committing to seeing my goals come into fruition is essential to my own self-discipline. It is, in a sense, the internalization of “the parent”, an archetypal authority figure.

Yet, my inner child occasionally scoffs. Too much discipline may lead to a melt-down worthy of an enraged toddler. The crying, flailing of fists, and other external signs of anguish may not be there, but inside, the tantrum is alive and kicking. So what do I do? I make it fun.

For example, today I wrote down a goal of “60 minutes of cardio”. Usually, this takes place on an elliptical machine or a treadmill, but tonight, meh. I couldn’t bring myself to zoning out for an hour on a human hamster wheel. Fortunately I was in luck. A youngish fellow came into the fitness center where I work and asked if he could work on his break dancing moves. It took all of 10 minutes before I asked him if he could teach me how to do what he was doing. Approximately an hour later, I had a primordial “6-step”, “3-step”, and some “top-rocking” options. Did I get my cardio in? Yes! Did I have fun? Hell yes!

So is it important to be disciplined? Of course. Does the process need to be soul-crushing? No, it does not. Have fun with your exercise, try new things, play, enjoy life, and be fit.

Attitude adjustment

Abundance vs. scarcity. Positive vs. negative. Loving vs. fearful. Healthy vs. sick. Each of these dichotomies represent (among many things) possible attitudes that we may adopt during the course of our lives. The tendency is to qualify one as better, more desirable, or more enlightened than the other.

For example, "The Secret", a popular book and movie, espouses an abundance mentality, replete with positive thinking, and a belief in the "law of attraction" as the secret to success in all areas of ones life. If an individual comes upon this material and finds it to be helpful, great! However, the downside is that this belief system is extremely reductionist and can also be inappropriate and insensitive.

A mother who loses her child to a violent criminal, victims of genocide, and those subject to the numerous atrocities that take place each day on this planet are not asking for these things to happen to them. To place the responsibility of these events on the victim is ignorant at best.

Things happen, life can be brutal, and fortune does not always smile upon us and while we can cultivate our own best attitude according to our own needs it is incumbent upon us to focus on just that, our own needs. Trying to explain all of the happenings of our life with one convenient theory may be appealing, but, like all life and existence, Truth is shrouded in a veil mystery that refuses to be dispelled.

On repeat

Perhaps you’ve had this experience. You’re driving down the road and your mind starts to drift. Maybe you’re thinking of what you have to do later that day or mulling over something that has been troubling you. Next thing you know, you’re turning down a road that leads to school, work, or some other frequently traveled to destination. Without any conscious thought, you automatically headed where you usually go.

This habituation, or patterning, plays out in many aspects of our lives. In the field of exercise science, there is evidence to suggest that it takes 500 repetitions to learn a particular movement. However, to then change that movement requires over 3000 repetitions! Like a well worn path through the woods, our natural predilection is to create patterns. By automating activities our lives become more manageable. Imagine if, like a newly mobile toddler, you had to think about putting one foot in front of the other each time you went on a walk. You’d probably be about as productive as a toddler with your schedule looking something like “eat, poop, sleep, run amuck, and repeat”.

Too much automation can be detrimental though. Imagine a world where people move through life in a semi-conscious daze, perpetually multi-tasking, and only superficially aware of their surroundings. It’s actually not that hard to picture such a scenario as our culture condones this zombie-like condition, but the trick, is to learn how to create patterns when appropriate and to know how to re-create them when they outlive their usefulness.

Think about what parts of your life are on autopilot. Are there certain scenarios that seem to play out again and again? In the physical body, patterns are stored and reflected in our tissues, but in our subtle bodies of thinking and feeling patterns can be just as entrenched. Cultivating the ability to detach somewhat from the immediate crises through a practice of meditation, yoga, or simple mindfulness can be helpful in seeing patterns for what they really are.

It may be helpful too to remind yourself that you were born into this world as a clean slate. It was relatively easy to pick up patterns of self-care, self-abuse, and everything in between as a child and work of altering those habits takes exponentially more energy, but it can be done.

For example, if you want to improve your eating habits, start with something that is novel. Stopping yourself from doing something that you have done since you were a child, like eating chocolate when you are sad, may not be a good starting point as it is an entrenched habit. Instead, start with a brand new habit, like eating 5 pieces of fruit everyday. Your new goal will be much more accessible and will help build confidence that is needed for the larger effort of unraveling an emotional eating pattern.

Remember too, that just because it doesn’t seem like your efforts are creating an immediate effect that doesn’t mean the process of change isn’t occurring. When learning a movement, you don’t do it wrong 499 times and then on the 500^th time you do it right. Each step is a step closer to your goal.

The Finish Line

Innocent air searing

Stretching the limits of possibility

Pressing on

Mind reeling in disbelief

Spirit reveling in the moment

Body tossed amongst the waves

Metabolic waste, blacking out

Can’t go, will go, keep going

Fight, fight, fight to the end

Bit by bit

Out of all the benefits that I have derived from my regular exercise habit, the ability to take things one step at a time has had the greatest effect on my life outside of the gym. Prior to making regular exercise a part of my life, I tended to look at the big picture exclusively, and as a result, became easily overwhelmed. Writing out a list of goals for a specific workout, starting, gradually chugging away, and finishing them off one at a time, led me to a realization. I found that I could approach life in general in a similar manner. The BIG goal is really a series of very small goals which can themselves be subdivided even further into single steps. Putting this into practice took, well, practice, but I have met with success more often than not.

It’s worth mentioning that within this process, I do my best to maintain a spirit of flexibility and self-reflection. For example, if I find that there is internal resistance to a certain task I’ll take a step back and explore other corollary tasks to see if starting something else more easeful. Sometimes it’s just not the right time to do a particular thing! Or, if there is a strong sense that I need to switch gears and possibly re-evaluate whether or not the task at hand is a priority I will try to honor that feeling and allow my intuition to guide me towards more pressing matters.

I remember a particular incident when I was visiting a relative who was do-it-yourselfing a new cabin. On that day, he was taking on the electrical system. The job was ridiculously complex and there were piles of notes, wires, and various tools lying about in a chaotically organized way. When I asked him how he was able to do it, he remarked, “It’s like eating an elephant, you just take one bite at a time”.

‘Nuff said!

Breathe

The breath,

Cool undulating tidal rhythm,

Carrying life both subtle and gross,

Inspiring the source,

Filling from within,

Emptying from without.

Calming,

Caressing,

Cherished simplicity,

Essential.

The moment dilates with the flow and summons the present,

Clearing dust from the cusp of consciousness,

Raising leviathan from the deepest soul space,

Being becomes one with itself sending seeking tendrils into “other”,

Synaptic clefts are breached with prana’s power,

Plugged in but not tuned out,

Quivering silence envelopes the senses as they absorb infinite vibrations.

Mind Control?

Let’s try a little experiment. First, DO NOT THINK ABOUT A PINK ELEPHANT!!! O.K., now tell me what you just thought about…a pink elephant, right? Now this time I want you to really focus, really try hard. DO NOT THINK ABOUT A PINK ELEPHANT!!! How about now? Is that pastel pachyderm still there? If so, then congratulations! You are normal!

Whether it is a going on a diet, sticking to a budget, or any of the multitudinous self-imposed challenges that we face on a daily basis, the common element is control. Controlling our thoughts, impulses, and desires is considered to be a sign of strength and self-mastery, but that’s a lot of pink elephant poo. The bottom line is that control doesn’t work. It is a tactic rooted in fear.

Think about it, what is the fear behind the need to control? The fear is that if you don’t control, you will spin out of control and your life will be torn asunder by the winds of change. The sad irony is that in controlling, you guarantee that your life will do just that, and as all the little pieces start to slip from your fingers you can only watch as they go smashing to the hard floor of reality. Control is an illusion and it is one that is easily shattered in the face of death, disaster, and accidents. Barring incidents such as these, the attempt to control can perpetuate chronically and even take the form of diseases like addition and obsession.

What I then propose is an alternative to control, namely questioning. Rather than saying “no!” say “why?” Saying “why?” leads to openness and investigation. This allows you to get to the root of the thought, impulse, or desire rather than simply damming it up only to have it burst out in a deluge of destruction. If you are on a diet and you see a piece of chocolate cake, and suddenly all your good intentions go out the window, as yourself “Why do I want that piece of cake? How will eating it make me feel? How will not eating it make me feel? What will I gain? What will I lose?” Maybe after all of this you decide you really do want to eat the cake. Even then, ask yourself “How much cake do I want to eat? Is one slice enough or do I need to eat the whole thing?”

By opening up an inner dialogue within your own self you can discover what will really make you happy. Maybe it is not what you originally expected, or maybe it is and you’re now that much more committed. Either way your life will become a greater reflection of “what you really” (whatever that is) and it is likely that you will be much more satisfied with the results.

Right vs. Left

This isn’t the usual wannabe pundit’s diatribe, where, from the comfort of an easy chair, he/she spews liberal or conservative rhetoric at the masses. This is about the right and left hemispheres of the brain, sources or symbols of creativity and logic. And, rather than getting into a conversation where I make my case via spotty recollections of neuroscience journals and metaphysical literature, I’m simply going to relate a personal experience and you may glean from it what you will.

The other day I found myself with a little down-time and felt like it would be nice to practice some Tai-Chi. The particular form that I know is one that I picked up several years ago and actually taught up until recently. It is a 30 movement form designed for people with arthritis or other conditions which would preclude them from participating in a traditional Tai-Chi class. I find performing it to be a relaxing alternative to other forms of exercise, especially when I know that my body needs a break from high-intensity training.

I found a suitable space and began moving through the various postures. The essence of Tai-Chi, as I understand it, is to be physically rooted into the earth as well as mentally rooted to the present moment, so I set about doing just that. I completed the entire form twice through and was beginning my third and final round. Out of nowhere, I noticed a pronounced tingling sensation in the center of both palms. Immediately, I became aware that this was the opening of two energetic hot-spots that are much discussed in Chinese medicine (the specific name of these points eludes me but I recall that there name means “bubbling wells”). Continuing with the form I felt a familiar warm, tingling sensation rush through my body. This in itself is not unusual as I have experienced the sensation during meditation, long runs, practicing Chi-gung, and even while reading. The sensation is truly an ecstatic one and brings with it a marked clarity of thought and an awareness that I am experiencing something of great spiritual import. It is almost as if I am receiving an energetic gift from whatever power makes up the essential ground of creation. Good stuff right?

So, I finished the form and what do I do, I promptly begin discounting the experience via a stream of logical rationalizations and reductions. Why, after I felt my spirit profoundly stirred, would I immediately brush it off as the expulsion of neurotransmitters interfacing with the synapses of my brain? Witnessing this inner conflict play out, I reminded myself that I am not alone in this. Sometimes we experience a happening that transforms us and, once the initial giddiness wears off, we eagerly rush back into the comfort of our preconceived notions. Does it not take an equal leap of faith to believe that we exist as the result of random interactions between inert particles that just so happened to bump and grind into the multitudinous forms of life on this earth? My contention is that the various and seemingly exclusive systems of belief are not mutually incompatible. Whether a believer in Science, God, Allah, Earth spirits, The Tao, or whatever else it seems as if Reality willingly accommodates our notions regarding its nature.

What I am determined to take from this particular episode is that I have the option of taking MY reality at face value. If my personal experiences tell me something, why not listen? In embracing this path, I do have much to lose, namely comfort, predictability, and arrogance. Fear will present itself at every turn and my courage will be tested. However, there also seems to be much to gain. I can’t say what just yet, but that is likely the point.

"Healthy"?

Workout more, eat healthier, network, be productive, go go go!!! As a fitness professional, much of my time and energy is invested into figuring out ways to get people moving. Of course, I practice what I preach, so I’m on the go from sun-up to sun-down planning, pumping up, writing, and working. Being extremely passionate about fitness has served me well, but I do recognize that I am walking a fine line. How much exercise is enough? How much of a focus on healthy foods is healthy? When does productivity need to take a holiday?

Obsession and addiction can manifest in many different ways. For some it is gambling, shopping, over-eating, drinking, or drugs. Our cultural conversation dubs these habits “unhealthy” while being a workaholic, over exercising, and nit-picking food ingredient labels are considered “healthy”. It is no more justifiable to deem someone “flawed” due to their eating/exercise habits than to indict them for practicing another religion. I can personally attest to passing easy judgment on people who smoke or “eat crap”, but when I entertain these thoughts, it means that I am the one who needs a gut-check. While uncomfortable and challenging, looking into my own heart and rooting out the source of my feelings is the only way to truly grow.

Yes, exercise is good for your health. Yes, eating fresh whole foods nourishes your body. Yes, having passion and drive are important for achieving goals and dreams. However, these “healthy” habits become unhealthy when they cloud the big picture. In the grand scheme of things, our own body, mind, and spirit are primary. I believe that if we are committed to bringing out the best in ourselves we are much more capable of helping others when it is appropriate. Addiction and obsession are rooted in fear and a need to control. Just because our society labels an addition “healthy” doesn’t make it so. Living our lives with a sense of balance, compassion, and understanding will serve us more than forcing our beliefs on others.

What is the difference between good and great? Consider for a moment what separates a champion swimmer and a runner-up. Typically, less than one second. That minute fraction puts Olympic gold around one person’s neck and relegates everyone else to obscurity. The dividing line is nearly invisible, but as far as careers and endorsements go, it may as well be a chasm.

When it comes down to it, the difference between good and great is not really a difference, it is an edge. So how does one go about getting that edge? According to “Outliers” by Malcolm Gladwell, it takes about 10,000 hours. This magic number is the amount of practice it takes to achieve mastery in any activity whether it be music or mathematics.

What about child prodigies? You might ask. Upon closer scrutiny, child prodigies aren’t unusual because of their intelligence, or even innate gifts. What is unusual is the opportunities that they were provided with that allowed them to accrue 10,000 hours of practice at such a young age. Tiger Wood’s father, Venus and Serena Williams’ pops, Motzart’s dad, and Bill Gates’ mom share more in common than their children. The parents were the primary driving force behind the child’s success in that they created an environment which allowed their children to practice, practice, practice, until, they reached that golden number.

Granted, Tiger, Venus/Serena, Wolfgang, and Bill reciprocated their parents’ drive with their own and that perfect storm is what birthed greatness. The take home message, practice makes you better and a lot of practice makes you a lot better.

Before you start trying to rack up your own 10,000, let me put it into perspective. Practicing 12 hours a day will yield 10,000 in 28 months. 3 hours a day will take you just shy of 10 years. You can see then, how a child whose life is a matter of eating, breathing, and sleeping a sport or activity could then achieve greatness in short order, while an adult with an ambition practice routine needs a decade or more.

The cost of pursuing greatness shouldn't be overlooked. Work, school, family, all would need to take a backseat to focused, intent practice and performance. However, demystifying and humanizing our athletic and business idols does have a palliative effect in that we too have the seeds for greatness within us. It is simply a matter of nurturing them each and every day. And besides, there's nothing bad about being just good!

Have bike, will travel

I awoke with a start immediately aware of my numbed arm and cricked neck. I had fallen asleep on the floor while watching an episode of Fight Quest on Netflix; it’s a great show by the way, but apparently not so great as to warrant a second season. Slowly prying myself from the ground I eased back into my body and took a look outside. The fevered heat of the day had apparently broken with a flash thunderstorm leaving a note of coolness in the air. With nothing else to do for at least the next couple hours I set out on my bike intent on exploring a trail down the road from my house.

The ride up to the Cady Way Trail is an uninspiring vista of strip-malls, car lots, and fast food eateries. The only things that really stand out are the slate grey buildings of the Full Sail School of Art and the even grayer wardrobes of the Full Sail students. Full Sail has been slowly acquiring more and more properties, and with it, spreading its drab color palette like the color robbing monster from a movie whose title I have long since forgotten.

I entered the trail where it crosses Semoran Blvd. and in keeping with the spirit of adventure headed west. Relishing the sensation of riding my bike, I noticed that it seems freer than riding in a car. Destinations become less important and in sacrificing expediency, richness is imparted to the experience.

I wove through a parade of vignettes featuring both man and nature. Vibrant purple flowers erupted from a mass of greenery clogging a drainage ditch. An old man with a slightly demented look in his eye sped through puddles on his scooter while his poodle rode shotgun, shivering the way wolves do when they have been twisted into toys by a millennia of human tinkering. A little boy pushed his sister. A dad pushed his daughter while she gazed uncomprehendingly at her training-wheeled bike. A different old man clutched a cane too small for walking with but not too small for beating a would-be attacker with. Animals of all sorts suicidally darted across the trail. Buildings rose up, garishly colored and empty remnants of the most recent real-estate boom, looking like abandoned children’s playhouses. Waters from land sealed up by the buildings reached tea colored pseudopods across the trail.

Eventually the trail spit me out near Colonial Blvd. Uninterested in navigating my way home through urban sprawl, I turned my bike around and headed back down Cady Way for the second act.

Olfactory perceptions featured more prominently on the return leg of the journey. Mushroomy loaminess was traded for the scent of cooking meat, a peculiar vegetable funk accompanied a row of nondescript green bushes, and in the spaces between, the smell of ozone in air-after-rain. Breathing deep, memories drifted up from my subconscious, some idyllic, some uncomfortable, and all unbidden.

Day slowly drifted into twilight and in the fading sun, I left the trail to return home, my cup overflowing.

The Nectar of Instruction

We’re a do it yourself culture. Venerating the self-made man/woman, abiding in single-family homes, and even celebrating Independence Day, Americans have a love affair with self-sufficiency. But is independence all it’s cracked up to be? Maybe we could learn from other cultures who acknowledge that everything is a group effort and that our individuality is an illusion.

I bring this up as a result of my recent foray into martial arts. After an initial exposure in grade-school to Taekwondo, which I abandoned as soon as middle school started, I have had a sincere interest in hand-to-hand combat. I personally found this to be odd as I never actually got into fights; I just liked imagining that I was a reincarnation of Bruce Lee.

(*Warning, you are about to be exposed an extreme level of nerdiness!!!)

After reading the Manga series Shamo my latent desire blossomed into an obsession. The opportunity to participate in a Krav Maga class set off a firestorm of activity. Before me or then fiancée (now wife) knew it, I was sparring, disarming, and throwing combos like they were going out of style. I also had the fortune to be under the tutelage of an instructor who deeply cared about his students.

Since then, I have relocated to a big city where there are many many martial arts schools. As a writer for Examiner.com I have had the privilege of visiting several of them and have noticed a powerful constant at work. Did I mention that during all my years of yearning to be a martial artist I really was trying to learn martial arts? I was also trying to do it on my own, by myself, flying solo. Guess what? It got me nowhere!

In Eastern culture, there is a strict student-teacher hierarchy. This contradicts the “everyone is equal” attitude here in the States, but when a master accepts a student into his tutelage he is also conferring upon him/her the accumulated wisdom and experience of a lifetime. The disciple, in turn, accepts the nectar of instruction by practicing humility and discipline towards the master.

In witnessing and experiencing this type of relationship first-hand, I firmly believe that this is still a valid method of learning. Yes, study, observe, and work on your own, but also allow yourself to receive help from others who may have much to offer.

Great things can be accomplished when we work together!

Let's be honest

It only took a few weeks before it seeped in. I had promised myself that I would stay "on target" and that I would not stray from the subject at hand, but alas, that was not to be.

Before I knew it, my writing had begun to take on a decidedly philosophical slant (albeit, infused with an exercise theme). There was even talk about "the present moment"!

Given that honesty is the best policy, tonight I decided to officially split my blogging efforts into two distinct entities.

OrlandoGymRat (OGR) will focus on pure exercise (techniques, anecdotes, and training related material while PhitnessFilosopher (PhF) will be my outlet for metaphysical musings. As such, I will keep PhF free of adds. This seems to be the right thing to do just because it feels like it is, and that is the point.

While OGR encompasses my professional life, PhF will reveal my personal philosophy based on subjective experience. Biased, yes. Pompous, perhaps at times. Insightful, maybe. I'll leave it up to you.