5 Lessons Learned from last night’s Portland Timbers match

My sister scored tickets to last night’s the Portland Timbers match. Despite what I knew would be a fun and unique sporting experience, I was reluctant to go.

After short sleep because of July 4th fireworks Tuesday night and an early client call on Wednesday AM, I had a hilly 8-10 mile training run planned for the afternoon. Then I had to traverse across town to pick up my son from Summer Camp, drive him home, then head back downtown for the game. It all felt like a lot of friction.

Wow. I’m glad I said “yes.” After a huge effort, they finished with a 2-2 draw in one of the most exciting soccer matches I’ve ever watched.

I’m also glad I said “yes” because I not only enjoyed one helluva soccer match, but I learned from the experience watching a team relentless in their pursuit of a win when they had every reason to quit, or not even show up.

Here are my top five (5) lessons from last night’s Portland Timbers match:

1 – Never, ever mail it in, even when you have every reason to. 

Their team captain has been out for weeks and at least four other players are either slowed or are completely out because of injury.

Three players are pulling double duty, playing both for the Timbers and for their national soccers squads, representing the United States, Jamaica and Costa Rica.

The team just returned from a tough road game on Saturday where they drew against Kansas City – a team tied for first place in the Western Conference. Last night, the Timbers faced the Chicago Fire, the first-place team in the Eastern Conference and team that has gone unbeaten in its last ten matches.

After last night’s game, they have a two-week break before their next match.

They had every reason to give a half-ass effort and get to the break to rest and heal.

But they didn’t.

2 – Shit happens. Deal with it.

After taking a 1-0 lead in the 24’ on a penalty kick, they gave up a fluke goal from a crossing pass that skipped past the keeper – a goal that certainly will not make any highlight reels. But a goal is a goal and the match was tied.

In the second half, the Fire took a 2-1 lead on a shot that ricocheted off the crossbar and down across the goal line. The ball never even hit the back of the net.

3 – Keep pressing. 

With only 30 minutes to go before a two-week break and every excuse to tell themselves why they should lose the game, the Timbers never stopped pressing.

Check out the match stats: 7 offsides, 8 corner kicks, 24 shots, 9 shots on goal, 60% possession time.

When they responded with an equalizing goal in the 70th minute, I fully expected them to lay back and play for the draw – get the point and get to the break. Instead, they seemed to press even harder, attacking and counterattacking at every chance.

4 – Sometimes not losing feels as good as winning. 

Given the situation and obstacles in front of you, a non-negative outcome is completely acceptable sometimes – to play with intensity and enthusiasm for the full 90+ minutes.

To put forth a zealous for the win against all of the reasons to accept losing.

To be proud of your effort against whatever is causing resistance.

5 – Find your crowd.

We sat in the Timbers Army section, where fans stand and chant the ENTIRE game.

You could feel the energy pouring onto the field and watch the players respond. As the fast-paced match picked up speed in the second half, each time the players seemed to lose a little steam and escape a quick counterattack, they quickly recovered and pushed forward.

The players fed off of the crowd, and the crowd fed off of the players. 21,000 fans cheering their voice hoarse to feed the players energy past exhaustion to go for the win. The players responded, and in fact, scored a go-ahead goal in extra time that was waived off because of an off-sides call.

Thank you Portland Timbers (and Tbone!).

Expect me to be at Providence Stadium on July 19th…

The San Francisco 50k Ultra-marathon Race Report

Results

If I look pretty proud of myself in this photo, because I was. :0)

I’m a happy guy after 32.76 miles on the trail

I took 2nd in my AG and 6th overall with a time of 5:47. Going in, I absolutely wanted to finish under 6:00, and thought that a sub-5:30 shouldn’t been a problem. Had I run exactly 31 miles, I would have bagged a 5:30, but alas, my Garmin showed that I ran nearly 33 miles because of the course and missing a turn. The overall pace per mile is more important to me than the total time.

For the data geeks out there, here are the mile-by-mile details from my Garmin.

Most importantly, I felt GREAT at the finish. Yes, I was tired and cramping, but no injuries or physical issues during the race, or in the days after. I took Sunday and Monday off, did a light four miles on Tuesday, a harder six on Wednesday and turned out a solid Cross-Fit workout this AM to celebrate my birthday.

Doing Difficult Things

Tucking my son into bed on Friday night, I told him – “Tomorrow morning, I’m going to leave early and won’t be here in the morning. I’m going to do a race and I’ll see you in the afternoon.”

“I don’t want you to go. Do you have to?”

“I want to go.”

“Why do you want to do?”

“Because sometimes you have to do difficult things.”

“Why?”

“To make yourself a better person.”

“Why does it make you a better person?”

“Because when you do hard things, it makes you work really hard to see how well you can do. Next time, you guys can come with me.”

That’s probably the closet I’ve come to answering a question I get a lot – “Why do you do these races?”

Race day is an evaluation, a checkpoint. It’s the culmination of months of training and a chance to see how hard I’ve really worked compared to how hard I think I’ve work, and to see that hard work payoff – the intervals, Kettle bell swings, box jumps, Wall Balls, eating well and maintaining discipline each week.

Less than two months ago, I was hampered by hamstring problems and an overall sense of stiffness. I committed in April to fixing myself with dietary changes and taking time for my Self to visit my doctors about the state of my health. I jammed in workouts at lunch and planned long hilly runs in San Francisco, running up Hyde Street and Divisadero just because they were the steepest hills I could find.

Races test my focus and mettle – how much do I want to improve and be well. How badly do I want to finish a race to feel that sense of completion?

I guess that’s why I do these, but I still don’t really know…

“Am I really going to do this?”

Then race morning happens.

I slept horribly Friday night, tossing and turning, waking up at 3:30, thirty minutes my 4:00am alarm. Laying in bed, I asked myself – “Am I really going to do this?”

But I pulled myself out of bed.

I grabbed my gear and hopped in the car. I was barely out of my neighborhood and I thought to myself – “Am I really going to do this? Am I going to drive an hour an a half at 4:30 am just to run 30+ miles over 5500’ of hills?”

Then the song “Try Anything” played from my music list.

When the race started and I heard my Garmin beep the first mile, and I asked myself – “Am I really doing this? Am I really going to do this 30 more times over the next 5-6 hours?”

But I had already started. Just keep going.

At the mile 12 aid station preceding a five-mile climb to the turnaround point, I asked myself – “Am I really going to do this?”

Yep. Just get to the turn-around and I’ll have this course licked.

And so it goes. Moment by moment. Segment by segment. Mile by mile.

A Brush with Greatness

About fifteen minutes before the race start, I saw Dean Karnazes. The dude grabbed a racing bib. He was racing! Really cool. It’s one part of endurance racing that I love, whether it’s Ironmans or ultra-marathons, everyone races the same exact course. No one escapes the same test.

Dean was very chill with people talking with him and taking photos. Seemed like he knew of the amateur racers there. I walked up and said – “Dude. This is so cool that you’re out here.”

That’s Dean just ahead of me.

He said, “Well, I was in town and I figured what the heck? We’ll run some miles out there together today.”  I wanted to snag a photo but it was less than ten minutes from the race start, and I felt like he deserved a little space.

I ran near him for the first two miles until the 50k/50-mile course split and that was the last I saw him for the day. He finished the 50-miler in 10:22, a solid effort for a guy that probably hasn’t done any hard training or competitive racing in a long time. “Ho-hum. I guess I’ll knock out a 50-miler with 10,000’ of climbing today…”

The Course

It’s and out and back course, starting at Fort Cronkite in the Marin Headlands, over a long climb to Tennessee Valley, over another climb down to Pirate’s Cove and out to Muir Beach. From there, it’s a five-mile climb up Cardiac to the turnaround a few miles before Stinson Beach.

Heading down to Pirate’s Cove

I like the out-and-back because I knew that once I reached the turnaround, the biggest climb was behind me and I knew exactly where I was on the course on the way back. Mentally, it made the second half much easier mentally and physically.

Funny Story of the Day

A few years ago after I finished 13th in a half-marathon trail run. A couple years later, I finished 5th overall in that same race. Since then, I can’t help but to pay attention to my race position. I never expect to win a race, but I know that if I’m fit and run a good race, I can finish near the top of my age group and in the top 10-15% of all racers. I think of myself as being the slowest of the fast racers, or  maybe more like being one of the fastest of the slow people.

This was a small race, about thirty racers each for the 50k and 50-mile course – so it was pretty easy to know where I was relative to the field.

I started the race bunched with a pack of 5-6 runners. Occasionally we’d run together (and miss a course turn together, adding another 3/4 mile to the course for us), then we’d break apart on the climbs when two of the guys pushed harder on the uphills. I’d see these two guys at the next aid station, heading out just as I was pulling in. I kept my stops short to reduce dead time on the clock.

Around mile 14, I saw the the lead runner heading down the mountain. By the time I hit the turnaround at mile 16.5, I only remembered counting 3-4 racers passing by me on the way back down, and I saw two faster guys from our pack still at the stop. I’d caught up to them again. I quickly refilled my nutrition, then jumped in the port-o-john then headed back down to scoot ahead of them.

I knew from an earlier stretch that I was a notch faster than both of them on the flats and gradual downhills, while they were faster on the steep descents and uphills. The next five miles were all downhill and I knew that with a push, I could build a cushion before the last two climbs where they would make up time on me.

I hammered along this stretch, dropping 7:58-7:53-8:16 in consecutive miles and feeling really, really strong. I checked back up the hill every once in a while and never got a glimpse – my strategy was working! I love it when a plan comes together.

At the bottom of the descent, I approached the next aid station which marked about 13 miles to go. By then, I felt a little thrashed from the push but excited that the last part of the race was ahead. I unscrewed my nutrition bottle and looked ahead across a pedestrian bridge leading to the next climb.

Guess who I saw? Yup.

They must have started AHEAD of me from the turnaround when I jumped in the port-a-john. F&ck. It was a little depressing at the time, and pretty funny now that I look back at it.

All in all, it was a good thing. Mentally in that stretch, I was running from ahead, which forced me to push more aggressively. Had I known they were ahead of me, I might have pulled back thinking there was no way for me to catch them. That wrong information push pushed me to work harder than I would have otherwise and test myself.

The Finish

The last 9-10 miles were a tough slog, but because I knew the course from the day and previous races, I was able to break the remaining miles into 2-3 mile chunks.

I worked back to the Tennessee Valley rest stop (~mile 25) where the station worker told me I had five miles to go. That just didn’t see right. I knew the very last aid station was two miles from the finish, and ain’t no way that station was only three miles from this point. She said she was sure, but  I still didn’t believe her.

I’m glad I didn’t. There were, in fact, seven miles to go from that aid station. I pulled into the last station only to see another racer from the early pack right on my heals. I hadn’t seen her the last ten miles and was really surprised to see her pushing. Dammit. Now I had to hammer the last two miles of rolling hills.

I did hammer, dropping back into a sub-8:00 mile pace for the last mile to make sure she didn’t pass me. I didn’t care that she was a she. I just couldn’t have someone pass me that late in any race on principle. One of my strengths is my ability to pace myself and finish strong, and having anyone sneak by me after five and half hours out there is unacceptable.

I finished the race about two minutes ahead of her, delightfully accepted by medal for my 2nd place AG finish, packed up and headed home. My race was done.

Training Regimen & Diet

The results from training continue to surprise me. I’ve been running 20-30 mile WEEKS, and finished a 33-mile DAY with 5500’ of climbing. My longest run since January was 12.5 miles two weeks ago.

I’m a devout believer in three aspects to my training:

1 – Diet & Nutrition: Mostly low carb throughout the week with one cheat day on Saturday. I dropped into a Paleo diet for four weeks in April. The week prior to the race, I upped my fat intake and have been eating fruit as a carb source these past couple of weeks.

Race morning, I ate three scrambled eggs and two bananas before the race, then only used 3fu3l nutrition throughout the race. It wasn’t until the mile 26 aid station that I ate any solid food – 3Fuel only to that point. My body’s adapted to fat-burning mode so I don’t need much food or calories during the race.

2 – Run Intervals: Nearly all of my runs include dropping into regular speed work intervals, ranging from 1-minute drops every mile to 1/4 to 1/2 mile intervals with a 1/2 to 1-meirest between. This cooks my legs and pushes my heart rate. I feel like I get as much from a 8-10 mile run with intervals as I used to get from a 15-mile long run at a steady pace. Much more efficient.

3 – Cross-Fit & Weightlifting: I’ve long subscribed to this approach, and really focused on this during last year’s Uberman training. Oddly, I’m most sore post-race in my UPPER body, which is awesome. It means that I’m recruiting all of my body to run. I’ve got a strong core and upper body (for an endurance athlete…) and I felt strong enough to drop a 7:47 mile at mile 30, and finished the last mile at a 7:30 pace.

What’s Next?

I’ve got my sights on a 100-miler this year. That was the original goal back in March, which got pushed back from injury. The Pine-to-Palm 100 looks incredibly hard.

This week, the Uberman race director pinged me to see if I’d like to join a relay team as their runner. Damn. He had to send me that email… Going back to do the Badwater course is still in my crawl. I just may need to do that.

In the mean time, I’m volunteering at the Western States 100 mile 65 aid station to experience that race first hand.

If I died today, would I be okay with that? #GoFarther

I think so. Where I am today versus last year and every year over the past ten years ago, is significant.

One year ago… I was now in my first month reliant on SalesQualia for a living – no more stipends from Blend or teaching paychecks from Hult.

Two years ago… I was just starting my transition plan from Blend to SalesQualia, working with a business coach every week to find my path and build my plan to leave the last job I’d ever have.

Three years ago… I was six months into my work with Blend, fighting depression.

Four years ago… I was thinking about how I could leave CoreLogic after spending a year there collecting a generous paycheck for doing not much of anything.

Five years ago… Benjamin was only two months old. We were six weeks out of the NICU. I was finishing my last week at Altos Research after five years of building the company from its earliest days.

Six years ago… I was firmly ensconced with training for Ironman #2 while in the middle of a potential acquisition of Altos that fell through the floor because I told the acquiring CEO the truth about what he could expect from me.

Seven years ago... I was two months away from Ironman #1 and thinking that I had time in my life to do pretty much anything I wanted.

Eight years ago… Lena was traveling to Africa for months on end, living in huts shared with cows and sleeping under mosquito nets.

Nine years ago… We were living in Oakland with Lena commuting to Davis via Amtrak 4-5 days a week.

Ten years ago this week… I started the path I’m on now – exiting my failed consulting company, deciding that 230 pounds was unacceptable and placing Life ahead of selfishness.

Today, Lena is a pilot and a PhD. Benjamin is healthy. My company is growing every day. I’ve knocked out three Ironmans and an Uberman. I wake up every day nearly 50 pounds lighter while physically, mentally and emotionally stronger.

To go from worrying about the next poker night to pondering if I’d be okay with dying today. That’s pretty good.

** This post was inspired by Tim Ferriss’s recent podcast with Cheryl Strayed.

 

Can you deal with your dreck? #GoFarther

Seth Godin says that there’s no such thing as writer’s block. You can type. You can write. So type and write. What writers call “writer’s block” is their unwillingness to deal with their dreck – the wretched writing that must be done to find the true gems.

Dealing with your dreck teaches you where and who you really are – what you really want.

My first novel is dreck. It’s so bad that I worked on it only once in five years. I want to trash it, but I know I can’t no matter how bad it is. I need to battle the dreck, only so that I can type the words “The End” and be done with it. Heck, this post feels like dreck to me right now. I started it on Tuesday morning, and I’m grinding through it now while sitting on kitchen floor at 6am.

My first company was dreck. After blowing through $150k in investment capital, my only significant project required me to shepherd a low-level Kazakhstani government bureaucrat around California and Canada to tour wheat research institutes.

My workouts lately have been dreck.  I’ve been fighting a hamstring injury and joint stiffness since mid-January. This past week, I’ve started to feel recovered, kicking up my running regimen and restarting my Cross-Fit workouts. Dreck. My breath is shallow and labored. My legs are heavy. My muscles ache.

This week I decided to go Keto for the month. I found myself pining for a banana and a chocolate square in the first three hours. Last night was dreck – home late from the Farmers Market and hungry for second dinner. Steamed lentils at 9pm aren’t as appetizing as they sound. Dreck.

All of it dreck, and all of it necessary to come out the other side better and stronger.

Going Keto (for now). Here’s why…

I don’t need to lose weight and I’m not pounding for Snickers bars or cookies every day. This is less about input (diet) and more about focus and attitude:

1 – Checking my own discipline

I’m already persnickety about my diet, yet I know I’ve been a little loose recently. Last Wednesday at the Farmer’s Market, I plowed through a plate of samosas and Naan. In the morning, I’m hovering over Benjamin’s plate for leftover pancakes and in the evening, I’ve been chowing the extra pasta or mac ’n cheese from his dinner. Throughout the day, I rely on fruit and nuts as snacks – apples, bananas, cashews, walnuts and sunflower seeds. I suspect I’m ingesting more calories than I need.

Work’s been busy of late, and often I consume calories as a way to address anxiety. I’m also eating haphazardly throughout the day. This leads to surprise calories and carbs that serve as short-term solutions for immediate appetite or mental apertures.

2 – Evening out my mood and energy levels

The local Whole Foods closed last month. It was two blocks from my office and I relied on it for lunch and snacks every day. There aren’t any good options for fresh salads downtown and I haven’t gotten into a flow of bringing food to last all day at my office. This leaves me collecting calories however I can – protein bars, fruit and nuts. I’m eating okay, but not getting the right nutritional balance.

Then when I get home, I’m usually hungry for dinner, which means I’m moody and impatient which is unfair to Lena and Benjamin, and then I devour whatever quick fixes I can find in the fridge before dinner – usually cheese. This stems my appetite right away, but the dairy has lactose, which is a sugar, so in effect I’m injecting carbohydrates into my system on an empty stomach, exasperating the problem.

3 – Improving my sleep

I’ve been cutting back on caffeine during the day the past few weeks. I wake up with a coffee at home, then grab another downtown – a coffee with a shot of espresso in the early AM. I drink about a third to a half right away, and the rest lasts me into the early afternoon.  At times, I’ll go back for a half-caff refill in the afternoon, and other days I don’t.  For context, I was drinking a full coffee in the afternoon, sometimes as late as 4pm, which had to affect to my sleep.

In early March, I battled insomnia for a stretch. I’d get to sleep okay, but then would wake up around 1am and be unable to get back to sleep for a couple of hours. This happened 4-5 days a week for a couple of weeks. Even with a solid training regimen, I wasn’t sleeping through the night. I was in Laguna Beach a couple weeks ago and knocked out a two-hour, 10-mile trail run with some gnarly hills, and still couldn’t sleep that night. Really frustrating.

My sleep is back to normal, and even better than before, and I want to keep it that way.

4 – Addressing stiffness and soreness   

Since first injuring my hamstring in mid-January, I’ve been unable to recapture the fluidity and flow from early in the year. I had worked up to a 15-mile run with pickups and felt I was on my way to at last toeing the line at the Badger Mountain 100. Since then, I injured the same hamstring twice more – once a week later, and again two weeks after that, so recovering took me into March.  I used the injury as an opportunity to focus on upper body weight-training and Cross-Fit conditioning.

But… I’ve been feeling stiff and sore across various body parts – calves, hamstrings, knees, ankles and shoulders. I using the diet as addition by subtraction to see if there’s anything in my diet that might be affected my recovery time.

5 – Changing my mindset

This is the most important reason.

Along with the injuries and general stiffness, I’ve been lacking intensity in my weekly workout schedule. We’re in the middle of a home remodel, with our the house now completely torn apart for two weeks. Boxes and plastic are everywhere.

I’m out of my evening mobility routine because I don’t have a place to stretch… The contractors are using the garage so I can’t work out there.

Bzzzzt… That’s a lie. I could easily go out to the garage, and instead I’ve been opting to use the house as a excuse for why I can’t put in the time.

Same with work. The past 4-5 weeks have been incredibility busy with travel, day trips to San Francisco and bringing aboard new clients. More excuses. One of my basic rules is to “Put your Self first,” and I haven’t been doing this.

Changing my diet means that I’m doing more to plan out my days and weeks, and it’s a focus on my entire body. In fact, I just paused from this post to book an appointment with my sports chiropractor to evaluate the aches and pain. Next, I requested an appointment with my family doctor to talk about my ongoing left leg tendon issues and some weirdness in my right ear.

See? Mindset changes behavior.

Right now, I’m midday of Day Two, and feeling okay. I knocked out a seven-mile run and have some acceptable snacks to keep me rolling through the day. Next goal is to get to dinner without breaking, then I can make it through the second day.

I’ll keep you posted.

Beneath the sadness is joy

Diana is 88. We met while out for a walk Sunday night after a confluence of random decisions that day.

After a long day driving to Tahoe and back for a ski day, our we had an early dinner, then Benjamin and I headed to the park to take advantage of the longer day. It’s been very wet weather this winter and mosquitos were rapid. After Lena joined us at the park, we fled the blood-sucking insects to walk the neighborhood. She wanted to take pictures of flowers to paint, and there was one tree in particular she wanted to photograph on Jerome Street.

Completing the short walking loop, we came back around towards our house when I spotted Diana across the street. I told Benjamin – “Let’s cross here…” I’m not sure exactly why. I just felt like it would be nice to say hello to her. I’ve seen here out from time and time, and I’ve seen how old people love to be around kids – just seeing them can bring them joy. Little did I know how important this would be for her that night.

As we approached, I said hello and she replied with a soft “Hi there…,” her voice crackling. I asked her if everything was okay.

She stopped, looked at me and said, “Well… no… I just got some bad news from Minnesota.”

“I’m sorry to hear about that. Would you like to talk about it?”

“That’s okay. I don’t want to bother you with it.”

“It’s no bother. We’re just out for a walk. My name is Scott, by the way.”

“Nice to you meet you, Scott. I’m Diana.”

Diana was sad because her last niece had just passed away, and had just received the news. Then she said that this was really hard on her because her husband just died three weeks ago and she was “just getting over that.”

As we talked, she shared more about her story – they were a military family, that her daughter had recently had a stroke and that Sunday was her birthday. As we wound down our conversation with Diana, Lena and I each gave Diana a hug. We showed her where we lived. Along the way, she stopped to tell us – “I can’t believe that you would stop and ask this little old woman what the trouble was. I just can’t express to you how much appreciate that.”

On Monday, Benjamin and I bought flowers for her. Benjamin drew a picture of a one big heart with a bunch of little hearts inside. (He even paused the iPad to take on this task.) I walked over to Diana’s house, flowers and picture in hand, and knocked on the door. No answer. I rang the doorbell. No answer. I knocked again. No answer. I was worried. I thought something might have happened to her, but with nothing to do, I left the flowers and picture on her doorstep.

Tuesday evening, I walked over again. The flowers were gone, relieving my immediate worry. I knocked on the door. No answer. I knocked again. No answer. I rang the doorbell. No answer. I could hear the TV on inside, and knocked one more time. Diana opened the door and was startled to see me.

“Were you knocking?”

“I did, and I was just about leave. Sorry to startle you so much.”

She had been in her backyard cleaning up some flowers and just happened to be coming out front for something.

It took her a moment to place who I was. “I’m Scott. We met the other night when you were out for a walk. I thought I’d come by to check on you to make sure everything was okay.”

“Oh yes. Thank you. I’m doing much better.”

We chatted a while and agreed that we’d all go to lunch or dinner sometime soon. “I’m heading out of town for a couple of days and my wife’s mother is coming to visit. Maybe I’ll have them come by to visit over the next day or two.”

“Thank you for stopping to talk to me the other night. I can’t tell you how much appreciate what you kids did for me.”

Today, Lena told me that Diana stopped by our house – “I talked to a very nice young man yesterday, and he said that I should come over and check on you guys while he was away.” Again she said, this time to Lena, “I can’t tell you how much appreciate what you kids did for me.”

Beneath her sadness, lay joy and happiness. It just needed to be revealed for the world to see and for her to feel it.

I remember visiting my great-grandmother when I was eight or nine years old. Bedridden, she would say – “I wish the Good Lord would just take me. I don’t why I’m still here.” Even at eight or nine, I understood. She had outlived several of her kids, and her husband had died decades ago. Lena’s grandmother lived alone in Ukraine, and even with her son and his family living nearby, there had to be long stretches of loneliness and sadness before she passed away – no one to help her share and remove that sadness to expose the joy that lay beneath. I saw her joy during our visit there ten years ago. Lena and I spent the day and the night listening to stories about her children and about her husband. She sang songs from her childhood for us. She told us old village jokes. We just needed be there to help her find her joy.

Maybe there are no accidents. Maybe the universe conspired to have us meet Diana.  Or maybe there’s just a lot sadness around us every day – we just need to stop to look and ask.

How much sadness are we carrying around within ourselves – caustic feelings of self-doubt, that we’re not worthy or that we’re not good enough? How often do we repress our Self from looking for help, from asking for a bent ear to listen to our struggles, strains and pains? How often do we suppress our own experience of happiness and joy?

How much are we willing to share of ourselves, to help other cope with whatever sadness they are feeling in this moment, in this day, in their life, to allow ourselves to feel this joy? We know it’s there. We suppress it. We ignore it. We let it sit there like a disease on our soul.

What if we could help each share our sadness, to shake it into the air and let it disperse in the wind so that all that’s left is joy and happiness?

Underneath sadness is effusive joy that we just need to uncover, to let the joy laying dormant, repressed by a blanket of sadness, out into the world.  I saw this in Diana’s expression of gratitude and joy that someone would listen to her. I’ve felt it myself in the joy I received by helping her, by caring for a complete stranger that’s now become a friend.

It’s okay to be sad. Now let it out, and help others do the same, because underneath is the joy we all deserve to experience.

* Diana is not her real name. I’ve changed it her to protect her privacy.

Why starting is more important than finishing #GoFarther

Brett Blankner interviewed me on his podcast this week – Zen and the Art of Triathlon (my interview begins at 1:47:30 of the episode):

Towards the end of the conversation, we talked about the importance of starting the race, or any endeavor, and how much more important starting is than finishing.

Starting means you’re taking action – you’re doing something, anything to move you closer to what you want. A decision is important. Identifying goals is important. But they’re nothing without action, ands starting is action. Starting validates commitment.

You got a dream, you got to protect it… You want something? Go get it. Period.

– Will Smith, The Pursuit of Happyness

In his book “Natural Born Heroes,” Christopher McDougall (the barefoot runner guy…), described a 50-mile trek introduced by John F. Kennedy when he learned that the military duty rejected 50% of those called as “unfit.” In describing Kennedy’s rationale for the 50-miler, McDougall wrote about the 1000s of competitors that now participate in the JFK 50 Mile every year:

..if we have the confidence to start, we’ll find what we need to finish.

Once you begin, the path will show you the way. I believe this with any endeavor, any workout, any day.

Take the first three steps, no matter how small, and you’ve begun your journey.

In the podcast, I described the fear I felt before starting Uberman, but when the alarm went off at three o-clock, I was calm. I was ready. I was starting. The journey would begin.

This isn’t just for big outcomes. There are days I just don’t feel like a workout, but I know that I have to, whether for training or to adjust my Self. Lena often suggests – “Just go out and do a few kettle bell swings…” She’s right. Picking up the kettle ball primes your body and mind. My mind goes into autopilot:

I can do ten swings, so I’ll start there… Six… seven… eight… nine…  If I can do ten, I can do 25. If I can do 25, I can do another set… First I’ll plop down for ten pushups. Ten? That’s easy. Make it to 15… 20… Okay, done. I’m breathing hard. My body is warming up. Might as well rollover for 25 sit-ups while I’m down here. 25 sit-ups done. Okay, back to the next 25 kettle bells swings. Done. Back down for another round of push-ups and sit-ups… Wait a second… How about five pull-ups in between?…

Sunday evenings are often rough for me, filled with anxiety. I’ll often have a packed week scheduled – a workshop on Monday then stacked with calls Tuesday. Back to San Francisco on Wednesday. More calls on Thursday, then playing catch up and while planning ahead on Friday.

But when four o’clock Monday morning comes around, I know all is well because now I’m starting. I’m doing it.

Surely throughout the day, doubts creep into my mind. Is the day going well? Will I find a few more clients? Why did that guy cancel on me? Is all of this worth the time and effort? Why am I doing this?

In the end, it doesn’t matter because I’m giving my best each moment, and however the day finishes, I’ve done all that I can. I’ve given my best. I started and given myself a chance to learn and succeed. I know that night I’ll be home in my bed and that tomorrow is another day.

I firmly believe that any man’s finest hour, the greatest fulfillment of all he holds dear is that moment when he has worked his heart out in a good cause and lies exhausted on the field of battle, victorious.

– Steve Jobs

Victory comes in starting. Relish that you’ve made a decision, taken action, and started. Whatever your endeavor, big or small, just start and celebrate that you’re doing it. That is victory. Starting. Trying. Doing. Be a verb. Begin and life will show you the way.

Oh yes, it’s gonna be hard. Really hard. Really, really hard. But until you start, you can’t know what the hard is and how to overcome it.  The finish line you care about so much about might not even exist. Or worse, you cross it and don’t feel the satisfaction you expected. I’ve felt that. But you’ll never know unless you start.

If you know what you’re worth, then go out and get what you’re worth.

– Rocky Balboa

Do something, anything. Please, just start.

 

Beating Back Regret & Lessons Learned from Uberman 2016

Thursday night, I listened to the Zen and the Art of Triathlon podcast, an interview with Uberman race organizer Dan Bercu. Listening to Dan recount the 2016 race and share the challenges of all the competitors should have been a fun, enjoyable experience.

But it was wasn’t.

I felt a sense of incompletion. I felt angry. I felt regret.

Most of all, I felt disappointed that I was feeling this way because at that moment when I turned off the timer in Death Valley, I promised myself and my team that I wouldn’t feel this way.

The more I thought about that regret, the more that regret was directed to what could have been with the right planning.

Going into the race, I know I prepared the best I could, from training to diet to logistics, all while running a business and supporting my family. I sat on my living room floor every night pinning lacrosse balls into my back and shoulders. I woke at 4:30am for 7500- and 10,000-yard swims before breakfast. I tortured my lungs and muscles through Cross-Fit workouts. I found experts to help me prepare.

By all measures, I accomplished an enormous amount with the adventure. And still, I sat there on the couch, then in bed unable to go to sleep, then I laid awake at 3:38 AM because I let the missing parts of my Uberman experience override what I completed.

My mindset improved markedly on Saturday night, when Brett Blankner interviewed me for the podcast as well. We talked about the importance of starting versus finishing, and how to approach endurance athletics with the right perspective towards family and personal health.

This is the important moment to remember from Uberman.

If you’re wondering, the answer is still no. I’m not going for Uberman #2. It’s too much on my body and family. It’s never the same the second time, and if I did decide to give it a go, it would be for the wrong reasons – it would be against why I chose to stop and against the contentment with that decision. Uberman, and any form extreme event or life objective, should always be about the journey not the destination, no matter how trite that sounds. Brett and I talked about this at some length in our conversation.

Most of all, we’re talking about a silly endurance event. On the other side of the world right now, a seven-year-old with murdered parents is trudging these distances without a water bottle in flight from torture and death. For real.

In the mean time, while waiting for the podcast episode to publish, I wanted to share a few lessons for those thinking about Uberman or any massive personal effort of its kind, I hope you’ll learn from these mistakes so you don’t lay awake at 3:38am wondering “what if?”

1 – A plan that can’t be changed is a bad plan. Looking back on my race planning, I had absolutely no room for error. I didn’t have a backup plan for missing the targeted swim landing spot. I didn’t build in a rest day. I didn’t account for the probability of injury.

There was plenty of information I ignored – accounts from other Catalina swimmers that missed the Terranea landing spot, the rocks, experience with going longer on an event. Despite these data, I built an inflexible plan that prevented my race completion.

2 – My 4:00am swim start. Marathon swimmers tackling the Catalina Channel usually leave the island at midnight. We chose a 4am start because we wanted to avoid crossing the shipping lanes.Had I started at midnight and even with a 15-hour swim (I finished my crossing in 14:24), I would have hit land by 3:00pm on Wednesday, instead of 6:30pm. This would have meant:

  • Less time battling wind and current as the day wore on, reducing the physical toll of the swim on my body.
  • More time to recover from the swim before the bike start.
  • Time to comfortably return to Marina del Ray post-swim, then back to the bike start on Thursday morning.

Maybe I still would not have been ready to hit the bike, but the extra few hours of a midnight start would have increased my chances, say from 1% to 15-20%. A 1% chance is no chance, while 15-20% is something. As soon as I missed the first bike segment, I lost the opportunity to complete the whole course.

3 – No backup plan for pickup after the swim. From research about Catalina crossings that swimmers are regularly pushed down shore from the target landing spot at Terranea Beach. Even though I was only 1/4 mile off from my target, that 1/4 mile was a world away. Tbone (my sister and crew) awaited my landing with an RV where I planned to sleep for the night then hit the bike in the AM.

Missing the landing spot meant there was no way for her to meet me. Rocks jutted out from shore that prevented her from meeting me and there were no access points to the beach where I landed. This meant that post-crossing, I had to return back to the boat about 1/2 mile offshore and then was faced with a choice of either swimming back to shore again, in the dark, by myself. No thanks.

I didn’t give clear directions and while I was getting settled back o the boat, the rest of the crew was putting away the kayaks. No one was in charge of thinking through the scenario that could have had a kayaker ready to take me back to shore again. It was now past dusk and dark. No flashlights were ready. No glowsticks. No one ready to hop in the kayak to help me. That’s my fault for not taking command and thinking through this scenario before it happened. In my condition, it would have been exceedingly foolish to try to swim back to shore with the current and the conditions, so I was forced to opt out of meeting Tbone.

By the time the boat returned to Marina del Ray and we got back to the apartment, it was well past 10pm or later (I can’t even remember), making the trek back to the bike start 30 miles south at 5 or 6am was a world away.

4 – I thrashed my feet hitting land. Feet are pretty important to cycling and running. Duh. Again, I knew about the rocky beach and how many other swimmers had cut their feet reaching shore. I rushed my landing to clear the water and ended up with two deep cuts on the bottom of my right foot. This was stupid. I could have worked with Nicki (my super awesome kayaker) to find a clear spot to land. Taking an extra minute or two would have saved my a lot of pain down the road (no pun intended…).

5 – I didn’t expect my shoulder ailments post-swim. In July, I did an 11-mile Tahoe crossing. Afterwards, I felt very, very good and had no soreness whatsoever. I wrongly assumed that any additional soreness I’d feel after doubling that swim would be manageable, if not tolerable.

This was a mistake and I should have known better. Having completed 70.3 triathlons vs Ironmans, and half-marathons vs marathons, I should have known that the effort and physical toll to one’s body is three to four times what half of the same distance does. With under a 12-hour turnaround planned from swim finish to bike start, even if I would have hit my landing spot on shore, the chances of being ready for the AM bike start were almost nil.

6 – Omitting buffer times in my race plan. Seeing a trend here? I planned one day for the swim, two for the bike and two for the run – a five-day race plan to cover the entire course. Dumb, dumb, dumb.

Even adding a single “wildcard” rest day to my plan to use when needed would have given me a number of options:

  • A full rest day post-swim (which I took, forfeiting the first bike segment)
  • Three days on the bike: 3 x 133 miles vs 2 x 200 miles
  • Three days for the run

Pay me now or pay me later. I didn’t plan a rest day, and that cost me the opportunity to complete the course. The sole finisher (Giorgio) took eight days (191 hours).  One rest day built in could have meant a finish, and probably a finish ahead of him.

7 – No way to extend my race plan. This is more of a constraint than a mistake. Lena and I had each taken an entire week from work already. The five-day race plan also meant that my crew commitments were over on Sunday night. T-bone had flight home from Sacramento on Monday night, and had already taken a week from work to crew. Tim had a job to get to Monday AM. I could have chosen to extend my race plan, and that would have left Lena, Benjamin and me flying solo in the desert with an overdue RV. No thanks.

8 – A big support team. Just like #7, this was a chosen constraint.  I wanted and needed my family to be there with me. I wanted to share the journey, not just embark on some crazy odyssey then report back with pictures. I wanted all of us to see it and experience it together.

This decision meant committing to a large support crew and heavy logistics, everything from the RV to having Tbone and Tim meet us in California, to having my in-laws fly to LA to stay with Benjamin while Lena and I crossed Catalina. Each night, I couldn’t just crash in the RV. We had to think about getting food and checking into hotels. We had to think about bath time, finding a glass of milk and which books to read before bedtime.

Having Lena there along the way for emotional support was, without question, a critical component to every moment of the effort. I remember a walk we took after arriving to Catalina Island. I was scared. Very scared. Scared of the swim.  Scared of what might happen out there. Scared of sharks. Scared of not finishing. Scared to start. She was there to tell me that everything would be okay.

At the end of my race, having Lena, Benjamin, Tbone and Tim there was an enormous sense of closure. It was a celebration of what we had accomplished as a team over the week, and over the past six months.

—-

So there you go… A few mistakes and a mini-therapy sessions for myself. I’m feeling much more at peace this morning than Thursday night and Friday, when for a period of about 36 hours, I was seriously considering taking another crack at this year’s race.

Nope. That’s okay. I’m good for now. I’m closing this door so another can open. I don’t know when, but another journey awaits, one more important and more impactful. I just wonder what it’ll be…

Go Farther Strategy #5: Find Your Routine #GoFarther

Routine is discipline and discipline is freedom. While I don’t have control of what happens to me every day, routine gives me control of what I chose to do with each day.

Routine gives me the freedom to say no, to avoid situations that I know will negatively affect me. I spoke at a conference last week and was invited to a “Speaker Dinner” that started at 8pm. An 8pm start? That’s what time I like to hit the sack. My routine gave me the freedom to say “no thanks” to the invite. This is what I wrote:

Hey Brett – I answered “yes,” but right now I’m a definite maybe.

I’m a super early riser (4am), and I’m usually in bed by 8:30 or 9pm. I’d like to go, except that I’m afraid that I’ll fall asleep in my soup and possibly drown, impacting the rest of the dinner enjoyment for everyone else…

-Scott

Sure, I missed a good steak and conversation, but my routine gave me the time and freedom to do a polar bear swim in the ocean in the morning.

Routine is committing time to myself. I have a huge to-do list today. It’s hard as heck to resist opening my inbox right. I want to do that work. I need to do that work. I just came from that speaking gig and have 75+ emails and calls to make (no joke…). On Monday, I’m leading a workshop in San Francisco and I’ve got tons of prep left for that event. I can’t believe that I’m taking the time to do this post right now, but it’s been a week since my last post and that’s unacceptable to me, so I’m forcing myself to sit and write.

Most mornings, I’m up at 4:30am. If I don’t get up early, I won’t. I need my mornings. It’s my time to establish the day for myself, to take control with Morning Pages and mediation. That only gives me an hour to do any real writing given the probability that Benjamin will wake up by 6:30. Today it was 6:12, putting a halt to my writing. Now I’m in the coffee shop. Man, I really, really want to get to my inbox… But I won’t. I will resist!

Daily training and workouts are routine. They are an anchor – my chance to step aside from the day, to step out of myself, to leave the mental intensity of work and life – and let the physical Self take over for its dose of daily. Sonan Chainani has two anchors in his day – tennis at 7:00am and a session with “Trainer Dave” at 2:00pm. Those anchors give him the freedom to focus on his writing. Sometimes I workout because I want to but mostly it’s because I have to. I have to alleviate stress. I have to feel the rush of endorphins. I have to see sweat dripping on the garage mat. I have to feel my legs and lungs burn through intervals on a run. I have to feel the satiation of a huge meal afterwards. I have to be training for some kind of ridiculous race to push myself farther. It’s my routine.

I typically work in sprints throughout the day. I start the timer and choose a single task to complete. There’s freedom in that focus to know that I’m working on an activity that I choose. I’m in control.

There’s routine in choosing when to work and when to put it aside, the freedom to focus on whatever is most important in the next moment. My routine dictates that I shut off my phone before dinner – I give myself permission to focus on family. Bad things happen when I break this routine.

I was weak a couple weeks ago.  After a stellar work day, I worked out then picked up Benjamin from school. I felt proud and satisfied with my accomplishments. I felt calm and relaxed. As I prepared dinner, I decided to scan my email. I don’t know why. I found a message that I didn’t want to read – a soon-to-be client feeling last minute jitters. The thing is… I couldn’t take any action on that information so receiving that input only negatively impacted me.  Lena asked about work. I shared my good day and I told her that I stupidly just checked my email for no reason. She knew right away. Now a week later, that would-be client that had last-minute thoughts is now on board and happy. It didn’t matter either way that I knew about that email.

I’m reading Steven King’s “On Writing.” Reading is part of my nighttime routine. I just read last night that he often hears – “I’d like to be a writer too, but I just don’t have the time…” I call myself a writer and I’m committed to this time, and because of my evening reading routine, I have the motivation and rationale that I need to write instead of cracking open my email. Had I skipped last night’s reading, I might be pounding out email #32 instead of creating this post. Thank you, routine.

The First Three Steps on Learning the Trombone, Earning a PhD in Psychology & 8 More Things I’d Like To Do #GoFarther

The hardest part about taking action is taking action.

I often say “I’d like to…” or “I should…” or “I want to…” and in most cases there’s a divergence between what I say and what I do. I’m not referring to outcomes at work or at home, or even most endurance race events that I decide I’m going to do.

This is more of the pie in the sky, dreamy kind of stuff. The childhood fantasies or experiences I’d like to pursue as an adult with the financial ability to pursue such things.

Warren Buffet recommended a “Two List System” in which a person creates a list the top 25 things one wants to do or accomplish in the next 5 or 10 years (or longer) and then choose the top five.

James Altucher wrote about this approach more recently, and often talks about “The Power of No” – staying focused on your most important outcomes.

Once the decision is made where to focus, then it’s a matter of taking action with the right steps in the direction of whatever the chosen outcome, and that’s where I think most of us hit a roadblock. At least I do. I get so focused on the enormity of a big outcome that I paralyze myself from even beginning or exploring the process.

Jack Canfield uses his “rule of 5” – choose five action steps each day that will bring you closer to your desired outcome.

A strategy I recommend for clients whenever they tackling a project is to simply list the first three steps they can take right away. These first steps should be SUPER easy and designed to just get started.

I thought it’d be fun to list ten of my “things” – ten outcomes or experiences that I say that I want to pursue, then list out what would be my first three actions steps towards accomplishing them – eat my own dog food here.

The first three steps should so easy that just by identifying and stating them, I will feel compelled to take action right away, and because the first steps are easy, I should see progress quickly, feel momentum building, experience success and then want to do more.

I do well when I’m in a flow in pursuit of a started outcome. It almost feels inevitable that I’ll accomplish it. The key is putting myself into that flow with quick wins and early successes. And if I’m not willing to do even these first few steps, then maybe I really don’t want to do that “thing.” It’s a good test either way.

Here goes…

1 – Trombone Lessons.  From 4th to 11th grade, I played the baritone horn (a.k.a. “euphonium”) and got pretty good at it. In 8th grade, I was first chair of a ten-school conference band and second chair of the South Jersey Junior High Band. In high school, I performed in both jazz band and concert band as an extra-curricular activity.  In 5th and 6th grade, I picked up the trombone as a second instrument to play in the concert orchestra, but never really played again after that.

Last year at the Davis Farmer’s Market, a small group of young musicians played a compilation of jazz, show tunes and marching band music. I was drawn to the trombone player. I love the loud, controlled splats. The smears and slurs reminded me of The Muppet Show, and I like the elegance of the trombone’s dark, smoky tones in a performance setting.

So why not take a few lessons on the trombone to see if I enjoy it? Besides, practicing an artistic hobby is only going to help my efforts to win a Nobel Prize…

Last week, I walked into Watermelon Music and asked about rentals and lessons. The guy there told me they had plenty of rentals and that the instructor’s contact info is on their website.

First three steps:

  1. Send an email to the music teacher on the Watermelon Music website (DONE!)
  2. Register for one month of lessons
  3. Rent a trombone from Watermelon

2 – Standup Comedy. Brian Koppelman (he co-wrote the movie “Rounders,” is the co-writing of “Billions” among other huge accomplishments…) and Sara Blakely (founder of SPANX) each took a year or more of their lives to practice this trade.

I’ve read Judy Carter’s book – “The Comedy Bible.” A couple years ago, I started a file in Evernote where I keep ideas for a comedy routine but I’ve updated it less and less recently. I took an improv class in Sacramento.

I think I could be good at it. I’m generally good at quips here and there (or so I think…), though my “humor” gets a little dark and unfunny at times, and I wouldn’t want to go in the direction on stage. I’d want to keep it clean. I’ve watched Sinbad’s “Sinbad Where U Been” many times. It’s one of my favorite routines. Bo Burnham is wildly entertaining to me because of the effort he puts into his shows and how he extracts three and four layers of comedy from every thread.

Nothing is stopping me, or anyone, from trying an “open mike” night other than personal inhibitions and the fear of failure. I can handle both.

First three steps:

  1. Research open mike nights in Sacramento.
  2. Sign up for improv class.
  3. Print my comedy notes from Evernote and cut into small segments to begin assembling into a routine.

3 – Fly airplanes. Back in 2011-2012, I took private pilot lessons along with Lena, accumulating more than 70 hours of flight time including a few solo flights. I was getting close to my VFR license. Probably another 2-3 months and I would have gotten there.

When Benjamin was born, three things happened: 1) time dissipated as happens with a newborn at home, 2) it was way more important to Lena to finish than me – it all started with her dream, so we focused on her getting in the hours to her license, and 3) I decided that I wanted to go for Ironman #3, which on top of the training, happened to be in Australia, so there were all of the logistics and planning with Benjamin just a nudge past his first birthday on race day in March 2013.

I’ve thought I’d like to go back to finish my license. We could fly longer longer cross-country flights together and I could do occasional work flights to Palo Alto or even down to Los Angeles for workshops. It’s a bit of a fantasy to do those things and would require a big time investment to not only earn my VFR, but to accumulate the hours and experience to feel comfortable flying solo through busy airspace and longer cross-country flights.

Oh by the way, I don’t have the patience that it requires to be an excellent pilot. There’s the constant probability of a plane failing it’s preflight inspection, grounding a flight and throwing a monkey wrench in my plans. I don’t like that kind of uncertainty. I get frustrated with the mechanics of planning a flight and procedures.

For example, Lena once found a bird’s nest in the engine during preflight – twice – once before an evening flight, then she flew the same airplane in the early morning the next day only to find that birds had rebuilt the nest again in the engine in less than 12 hours. Another time after a 100-hour service, Lena flew a plane that sprung an oil leak, forcing her to divert back to the airport in short order.

Much of this would be mitigated by owning a plane outright because it would fly far fewer hours than a rental and Lena would assuredly be in charge of maintenance, but all kinds of things can still happen.

Despite all of these reasons to the contrary, I have an inkling to get back and finish my license.

First three steps:

  1. Send a text to my friend Tim for his opinion on how long it would probably take for me to complete if I committed to flying twice a week.
  2. Contact 2-3 instructors at University Airport about their availability to take me on as their student.
  3. Schedule a “restart” flight – a demo flight of sorts to make sure I really want to do this.

4 – Finish a novel. I started a novel about eight years ago, and it’s been on the shelf since. I don’t particularly care about publishing it – I just want to finish the damn thing. Most successful authors never publish their first novel.

I love writing – the process of building and constructing sentences and paragraphs. All of my published writing take the form of business writing or blogging. Writing through a storyline, developing the characters and reaching the end of the book is a compelling literary endeavor.  It’s a challenge churning out 50,000 words while maintaining a plot, developing characters and reaching a resolution.

Right now, I’m reading Norman Mailer’s book “The Spooky Art” about writing, and just finished Steven Pressfield’s “The War of Art.” There’s a persistence and a grind to writing a novel that jives with my personality, much like Ironman training or building my business.

But on the other hand, I’ve not seen this project through yet, and I’ve been known to start projects without finishing them, ergo why this is on this list. November is National Novel Writing Month every year. I could delay until then and put in the time daily to torture what I’ve written so far to completion. Or I could get started today…

First three steps:

  1. Find what I’ve written so far in Evernote.
  2. Organize this writing into a single notebook.
  3. Take a blank sheet of paper and draw out the story line I’ve written so far to see where my mind takes it next.

5 – CrossFit Games. I started doing CrossFit a few years back (again thanks to Lena!). I’ve never been a huge weight-lifting kind of guy – I did it in high school to try to build up my chest muscles because I wanted to look like a stud (I failed…) and nowadays I lift weights and practice CrossFit to bolster my endurance training. It’s been a HUGE boost to my efforts, and was a big part of my Uberman accomplishment.

I’d like to see how I’d do with a year’s worth of training to focus on competing in the CrossFit Games. Anyone can give it a go – just go to the local CrossFit gym and participate in the measured workouts that are used for the Open competition. Here in Davis, we have a kick-ass CrossFit box.

My body responds well to this type of fitness and training and I believe I could do well with the right focus and effort. It would be nice to see how I would stack up against the very best competition.

First three steps:

  1. Research when Stage 1 begins for the 2017 CrossFit Games. (DONE! Turns out, registration started back on Jan 12 and Stage 1 begins on Feb 23…)
  2. Review the Open Workouts from past years here.
  3. Chose one of the past workouts to do today in my garage. I’m going to workout today, so why not put myself to the test right away?

6 – Learn a new language. I’ve traveled to Europe, Latin America and Central Asia, each time adding to the realization of how limited life can be when you’re unable to communicate. I’ve been to Italy and Central America several times, each time wishing I spoke the local language.

In high school, I did well with French until I was asked to drop the class because I was a pretty annoying discipline issue. (Sorry, Ms. Hern. I really am. I know I caused you a lot of hard days…)

I picked up two semesters of French in college because I had to do a language, and again, did pretty well, but I’ve not pursued it since. I’ve taken a couple of community college Spanish classes and had a private tutor come by the house for a stretch to learn Italian. The Latin-based languages make sense to me, I’ve just never devoted time to focusing, practicing and using them.

This week, we’re registering our son for kindergarten and there’s a Spanish immersion program for K-6 grades which we hope he’s able to join. This is a lesson from my own life that will absolutely benefit him, and maybe this is my chance to learn alongside him starting this year.

I think I’m most torn about which language to learn. Spanish is most practical. French would be the easiest because of the four years of base training. Italian would be the most fun, and least practical of the three. I’ve learned some Russian as well, but again, not terribly practical.

First three steps:

  1. Find a language app on iTunes. I know there are several that are good for short bursts of language learning.
  2. Download the app.
  3. Take 15 minutes to begin today at lunch.

7 – Live abroad. We’ve done some decent traveling for extended stretches – two weeks in Belize, three weeks in Australia, for example. This summer, we’re spending 5-6 weeks in Portlandia. Given my interest in language, living aboard for a year would be a spectacular way to learn the local language life in a new culture.

Of course, sometimes you don’t come home… We almost decided to stay in Australia after a three weeks in and around Melbourne. I was even offered a job there. A good friend has now been in London for about 6-7 years. Another friend spent two years in Sweden. Our babysitter/house sitter just left for Australia and New Zealand for five months, and my bet is that she ends up staying for longer. Why not?

While there’s lots of America to see and experience, living abroad for a year or so would be relatively easy for us as a family. I run a coaching business with clients all over the world already, and Benjamin is young enough that finding private tutors or having him attend a local school would be an easy step. For the right opportunity, Lena could do her research work from most places.

First three steps:

  1. Google “Living Aboard” and see what I find.
  2. Look at a map of the world to see what looks to be most appealing.
  3. Make a list of the top three places so that I can devote 30 minutes to each for research that particular location as a viable place to live aboard.

8 – Earn a PhD in Psychology. I first became interested in this field when I first started as a sales rep at Prentice Hall, selling textbooks and educational materials at 22-years-old. This began with Tony Robbins’s Personal Power, then a slew of sales books by people like Brian Tracy and Zig Ziglar. The more I learned about sales, the more interested I became in psychology. At one point, I was reading William James every morning.

As a professional salesperson, I’m most interested in organizational psychology and managerial economics – how organizations make decisions. I’ve read quite a bit on this front, even compiling a table of contents for a book in this area. Later, adding my training in the field of economics and learning more about the behavioral aspects of people, groups and decisions, this field is probably the one place where I feel I would be a successful PhD and researcher.  Of course, watching my wife go through the PhD process makes this almost wholly unappealing…

First three steps:

  1. Research PhD programs at UC-Davis. I’ve done this before. I just need to refresh myself.
  2. Fill out an information form or see if there is an open house or event of some kind on campus.
  3. Walk over to campus during the day, find the department and ask the administrative assistant for help with information and talking with a professor or two there.

9 – Run for Public Office. Back in college, I made a couple of trips to Washington DC for political-action workshops and even landed a post-graduation internship for the summer after graduation. It was unpaid and after talking with my parents, I decided to get a job instead. I’m glad I didn’t caught up in “Beltway fever” but I’ve always found elections and politics interesting over the past few years.

National elections have become less interesting, recent events notwithstanding, while local politics have become more interesting though. In my work space, there’s an commercial real estate guy that’s active in local Davis politics. There are a number of initiatives and ballots every election. I have a friend that attempted to get himself on a local congressional district ballot as a Libertarian candidate. I think there’s something that’s still impactful about local politics that otherwise would be lost in the day-to-day bickering and attenuation of holding a larger office.

The question is whether or not I’d want to pursue the effort – handing out flyers, standing around at the Farmer’s Market and knocking on doors. Do I have an initiative or office where I feel strongly enough about making a change that I’m willing to devote my time and money to such an endeavor? Not right now, but maybe later.

First three steps:

  1. Go to the City of Davis website to look for election and ballot information.
  2. Find out about the elected positions that will have open elections in 2017.
  3. Make a list of specific topics that I care most about. This is just a way to match my interest areas with the elected offices responsible or that impact that particular area.

10 – Martial Arts. This has been an interest area for some time, going back to my post-Ironman days going into 2014. I’ve listened to podcast interviews with people like Josh Waitzkin. I practice meditation most mornings and late last year I visited a local Aikido Dojo to watch a class. It’s an interesting form of martial arts with it’s quiet flow, though I don’t have the commitment to attend classes 2-3 nights per week as is required for most martial arts.

Brazilian Ju-Jitsu is also interesting because I’ve heard it described as “problem-solving” – you’re stuck in a hold and need to figure your way out of it. I have a client that’s a beginner in this art, and she absolutely loves it even though she said it “kicks her ass.”  I like that aspect of this particular martial art form, though I’ve yet to check out a live class.

While this is definitely a “later” thing, it’s something I think about from time to time. I like the rigor and discipline, as well as the confidence I believe it would breed in myself to know that I could handle myself in most situations I might encounter. Maybe it’s part of my machismo to want to be able to defend myself or my family in a raw situation, though how practical is it really in most situations, like having a gun pointed at you? Not that I’m planning to put myself in any situations like this, but the chance exists. Okay, digressing…

First three steps:

  1. Visit the local Brazilian Ju-Jitsu website to look at the class schedule.
  2. Pick a day to go to the dojo to observe a class.
  3. Go and observe.

So what’s your list? What are your first three steps?  

Let me know and I’ll help if I can.