Packing

A small stack of clothing and gear now occupies space in a corner of the office I share with my trekking partner and all-around best pal, Cliff. While I work at my desk, I catch myself continually glancing over at the stack with feelings of wonder -- or is it disbelief? My emotions are stirred not by the fact that we're really doing this thing -- the Snowman Trek -- but by the realization that our longest trek to date restricts us to the lightest load ever. You see, Druk Airlines (Bhutan's only air carrier) limits our baggage to just 44 pounds per person. Once a cold-weather sleeping bag, Thermarest mattress and walking sticks hit the scales . . . well let's just say we'll be wearing the same clothes for just about every picture we take for 35 days.

I find the challenge isn't so much deciding what to take as it is deciding what to leave behind. Like most western trekkers, we have gear for many different climates and for varied terrain. Much more than we need for any one trek (and perhaps for several treks executed consecutively). Knowing we have yak and horse support, it's hard to decide what not to take . . . until we give it the Nepal test.

In Nepal I carried a pack that weighed more than one-third of my body weight for a two-week high-altitude trek -- no sherpas, no pack animals . . . just us, an idea, a map, a GPS and a very heavy pack. I can recall few post-trek events more punishing than the experience of opening that pack to find clean clothes and uncooked trail food. My intention in packing received a sharpening following the Gosaikund trek that remains to this day.

All doers pack for the journey -- no matter what it may be. Some baggage is physical, some is emotional, some is spiritual -- it all has mass and weight.

So, how are you intentional in choosing what you are loading into your pack?

What choices have you made about things to leave behind? Know that learning and innovation come with leaving some of those "just in case I need it" items you've collected over time. What housekeeping is there to do before you move on? That trash in the bottom of your pack, which hasn't been shaken out in years, may feel like a medicine ball at mile 25, 68 or 105. And very importantly, whose gear are you carrying? Carrying for someone else can manifest anger and resentment en route -- especially when the going gets rough. Own your trip. Acknowledge both your blessings and your burdens.

I chose this trip -- fell in love with the idea after reading an article about it in National Geographic Adventure magazine. And I am choosing consciously to dress in layers and leave behind my heavy jacket. I am intentional in my decision to wear a pair and carry a spare (just one) when it comes to trousers. Not a single item is wash and wear without being wear, wear, wear (at least three times) then wash.

Yes, it is a rather small stack in the corner of my office. I am content that it is just what I need. I've considered each piece. I feel I have chosen those things that best will support, nourish and sustain me across the miles. And despite the care and attention I've given to packing, I stay open to what the journey has to teach me about needs and wants along the way. I'll use that information the next time I pack.

Snowman Training Notes: Long hike yesterday -- only one long hike left before we enter taper phase!! 14 miles and the weather was divine. Aerobic day today and I had to cut it short by half hour to meet a work deadline. Octane Trainer 45 minutes, 6.8 miles on interval mode.

Thought for the day: "Simplicity is making the journey of this life with just baggage enough." ~Charles Dudley Warner

All Doers Are Dreamers . . .

. . . but not all dreamers are doers. Doers start with a dream, an idea, a germ of what we want to achieve, of the change we want to affect, of the contribution we want to make. Then we set out to making our dreams reality.

John C. Maxwell wrote a great little book, which was published in 2009, titled Put Your Dream to the Test: 10 Questions That Will Help You to See It and Seize It. I consider this book a primer of sorts for new doers. It walks readers through ten questions (hence the sub-title) that test the "achievability" of a dream. Of course, the hidden secret -- and inspirational part of the book -- is that our dreams are achievable. It is important to note that Maxwell addresses and dismisses a number of things people may call dreams in the introduction of his book -- so there is no need for a qualifier like "most" dreams are achievable when daydreams, pie-in-the-sky dreams and idealistic dreams (among others) aren't part of the dream picture.

I highly recommend the book to all fledgling doers, who by definition are dreamers too. Dreamers because you've chosen that thing to do that is bigger than you, outside of your comfort zone and not do-able today -- but through commitment, practice and perseverance will be.

Do I always ask myself the Maxwell questions? Not so clearly as they are written, and yes, I get around to all of them in the process of deciding to pursue -- and then in the pursuit of my dream. Here are the questions as you will find them in the book:

1. Is my dream really my dream?
2. Do I clearly see my dream?
3. Am I depending on factors within my control to achieve my dream?
4. Does my dream compel me to follow it?
5. Do I have a strategy to follow my dream?
6. Have I included the people I need to realize my dream?
7. Am I willing to pay the price for my dream?
8. Am I moving closer to my dream?
9. Does working toward my dream bring satisfaction?
10. Does my dream benefit others?

Listing the ten made me deliberately put the Snowman Trek through the 10-question test. Yes, I already had answered the questions. How does your dream stand the test?

Snowman Training Notes: Lots of days past since my last posting. So we are in peak phase of training (fine tuning and pushing). Our final long training hikes will happen here -- although we'll continue with lighter hikes in taper phase. Aerobic training and sprint lactate is emphasized --as is strength. Last Thursday I got in my longest versa-clmber workout to date: 1:05, 6050 vertical feet (I had to clean up a real puddle around the machine at the end). Friday was our rest day -- took a long, leisurely walk around Longwood Gardens outside of Philly. Back to kettle bells for stregth training for me on Saturday, which made Sunday's hike (1:45, 7 miles) a real progression day (kettle bells is a real quad killer). Off to the gym today for an interval run using the treadmill.

Thought for the day: “If one advances confidently in the direction of one's dreams, and endeavors to live the life which one has imagined, one will meet with a success unexpected in common hours.” ~Henry David Thoreau

Fearless Failure

Oh my gosh, what a ridiculous title for a blog oriented to "doing stuff." I mean, who wants to think about, talk about or even consider failure on the way to success? Well, just about anyone who has ever done anything -- and you're included here -- has failed along the way. Failure is a natural part of learning and appreciating that fact is a way of using failure fearlessly and powerfully.

From the time we are kids most of us are taught to fear failure -- especially in public. The looming stigma is punishing even before any act of failure occurs. Over time, it can keep us from taking risks, speaking up or reaching out. And for every time we count ourselves out before we get started, we have surrendered an opportunity to learn, to be, to do.

Failure also tends to be directional. Think about the simple act of riding a bike. When we see something in our path that we determine we want to avoid (say a piece of glass that could puncture a tire) looking toward it almost guarantees that we'll steer toward it. Looking toward the alternate (glass-free) path allows our focus to be there -- and so our steering (and therefore our body) follows. Focusing on failure may just deliver it. Acknowledging that failure happens along the way and that it carries along with it learning allows us to accept it when it comes along and act in the moment to adapt to the change it presents.

Finally, think of times when you've been fearful of doing something because you were afraid of failing. I bet you can recall feeling tense, rigid, forward focused and inward oriented. That's exhausting!

While fear of failure can limit action (and therefore learning) and negatively direct or drain the energy we need to succeed, the experience of failure (without fear, embarrassment or shame) yields learning and the energy that comes from getting that next "piece of the puzzle."

There are almost too many stories to count of famous people who have experienced multiple failures on the way to success. One of my favorites is of Thomas Alva Edison. Edison, of course, is the inventor of the electric light bulb. I grew up on this story because Edison's winter home is in my hometown of Fort Myers, Florida. And what with the Edison Pageant of Lights, the Edison Mall and the Edison Home, it was hard to avoid the history and the trivia of the man.
As the story goes, when Edison was a schoolboy, he was told by his teachers that he was "too stupid to learn anything." A bit of a daydreamer (visionary) he also was fired from jobs in his youth for a lack of productivity. And after more than one thousand failed attempts at the light bulb, Edison developed the successful design. I love that story. I imagine Edison gleefully looking for the puzzle piece in failure that would give him the next clue he needed toward inventing the light bulb.

The simple truth is that no one is immune from failure. I am happy to know I'm in good company. While I haven't always, today I choose to appreciate the learning of failure by taking the time to consider what that learning is, rather than to suffer in ego-centric humiliation.

Snowman Training: Two days to record. Yesterday was 45 minutes on the Summit Trainer at the gym set on the "Round the World" program that delivers varying elevations for training. Then 30 minutes of strength training. Today I chose to mix things up a bit with 40 minutes of step training with weights (hadn't done that in awhile). As my massage therapist said today, sometimes it's good to confuse our muscles :-)

Thought for the day: I can accept failure, everyone fails at something. But I can't accept not trying. ~Michael Jordan

Reorientation

So, you have the perfect goal-oriented plan. Your personal SWOT gave you feedback on areas to shore up and areas to let go. You have posted a calendar to track your progress. You've signed on your pals (and maybe your spouse) to create a little accountability. Why then, are you having an "off day"? And why are beating yourself up for stepping off of the goal path, even for a day a two? Maybe you've lost some situational awareness along the way.

So what to do?

Stop! Look around. Ask yourself: What's different? What's missing? What's new on the path?

I am a trekker. The map is my plan. I know that when I spend too much time with my nose too close to the map, I start to lose sight of the terrain. Same thing when I'm walking with my head down-- always looking for the next root, rock or scree patch. While I'm looking inward, while I'm focusing on perils, the landscape has changed. Somehow I've managed to step off the trail, miss a turn or ignore the effects of a torrential rain. When I find myself following a dry river bed or yak trail (I've done it) instead of the blazed trail, I don't panic. Here's the trick: I make adjustments, not judgements.

So take that map of yours and reorient it using the terrain, the sun and the moon. Take out your grease pencil and annotate the detour required due to flooding or a rockslide. No need to beat yourself up or get into a vicious do-loop (what I call the vortex of negative self talk) when you can take just a moment to regain your situational awareness, catch your breath and adjust your path.

This is a plan -- not a a rigid chute. This is YOUR plan. You have the power of CHOICE.

My mantra: Head up, situationally aware, powered by choice.


Snowman Training Notes: Sunday was the last day of the intensity phase. We wrapped up with a 4 hour and 20 minute quadruple hill hike (16+ miles). I felt a bit more impact than usual -- time to get new Superfeet in my boots. Today it's back to the gym to kick off two weeks of peak phase -- focusing and upping the bar on all that we've put together so far. Cliff's at the gym first, I'm out the door as soon as he's back. Sprint/ Lactate Tolerance PLUS trek strength training.

Thought for the day: “Every human has four endowments- self awareness, conscience, independent will and creative imagination. These give us the ultimate human freedom... The power to choose, to respond, to change.” Stephen Covey

Sometimes You Just Park It

My friend Deb has had a Prius for many years. Now passed along to her daughter, we borrowed the little hybrid for a short errand when I visited recently. I marveled at the car's ability to re-charge it's own energy as it is operated. The process, called "power split," all is displayed graphically on the dash. One of the first editions of the series, Deb's stalwart little car recently required a new battery in spite of it's amazing rejuvenating powers.

Here's what I know about recharging the "doer" battery: Sometimes you re-charge in motion (energy begets energy) and other times you just have to park it -- or accept taking the time and spending the bucks to go in for a major overhaul.

Snowman Training Notes: One day left in the Intensity phase (tomorrow). Yesterday I completed a four-mile Lolo Burn interval run plus trek strength training. Today is for rest -- my Pirus is parked :-)

Thought for the day: "Take rest; a field that has rested gives a beautiful crop." ~Ovid

Things My Sister Taught Me #2 – I Hope You Dance

My sister loves to dance. When she dances she displays a certain joyous abandon that is a delight to observe. You know, it’s one of those happenings that makes you happy because the person in the moment so obviously Is happy. And my vision of her dancing in a little Indian-Princess Halloween costume when she was probably about seven years old is the image that reminds me to act when the opportunity presents itself – before the moment is past.

So here’s the story. It’s Halloween in the mid-1960s in a small backwater Florida town. Enter a corny master-of-ceremonies urging a group of tiny ghosts and goblins, witches and black cats onto a stage for a costume contest. I was, as I think I was for much of my youth, dressed as the proverbial black cat. Mine was a fairly unimaginative costume that consisted of a black leotard with a tail pinned to my backside and some eyebrow-penciled whiskers drawn at the base of my nose.

It was my sister, costumed as an Indian Princess, who thrilled me. She was Pocahontas -- brave and noble. She wore a tribal headband with a feather erect between the center part of her black yarn braids. Her dress was a simple brown shift of the finest buckskin (in our little girl imaginations). And she had beads that clattered about her bosom-less chest and moccasins that allowed her to creep through the forest with the greatest stealth. She was, after all, Native American royalty. And that alone should have won the contest.

But for some reason the adult-in-charge wanted us kids to dance. And in my heart, I wanted to dance. I wanted to join in the fun and make my faux-feline tail jerk and whirl to the music. But I didn’t. I sat frozen on my mother’s lap, while my sister regally made her way onto the stage. By the time I had gathered the four-year-old resolve to join the little group, the moment had passed. My sister had -- to the delight of the crowd -- danced up a storm and already was making her way back to our seats. She was the brave little princess who had followed her heart, while I could only wish that I had had the courage to follow her tiny moccasin-clad feet. That moment to dance had passed for me. Thanks to my sister’ radiance, the lesson did not.

For the rest of my life, whenever an opportunity has presented itself I remain keenly aware that demurely declining that which I truly desire means choosing to sit out the dance. Second chances are rare and prized. I see the specter of that little Indian Princess and I choose to dance.

Why anyone becomes a “doer of stuff,” is a mystery, I think. There are dreamers (my dad is one) and there are doers. At least a bit of what contributed to my doer constitution is not unknown to me. It is because I have a sister who loves to dance – and her pure joy in the moment makes us all want to join her on the stage of life.

Does it matter, really, whether you can connect to the source of your doing? I think probably it does not. What matters is that you intentionally identify your rhythm and dance, in the moment, without regrets.

Snowman Training Notes: Yesterday’s workout was another Sprint/Lactose tolerance day – this time on the Octane Trainer at the gym – 16 sprint intervals of 30 seconds each over 32 minutes – followed by my trek strength training routine (1:10). Today it was back in boots for a seven-mile hilly hike (1:45). Legs are feeling a little tired tonight after the past three days of training.

Thought for the day: “And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance,
I hope you dance.” ~Lee Ann Womack

Altitude Happens

I’m often asked how we are training for the altitude we’ll experience on the Snowman Trek. The answer is, we aren’t! It’s not that we wouldn’t LIKE to train for altitude. After all, it’s likely to be the greatest challenge we’ll face in Bhutan. It’s that the way to handle a transition to the rarified air we'll experience “at altitude” is through acclimatization. Something that’s not going to happen at our home base, situated at about 500 feet above sea level. And before you say it, we don’t have access to an altitude chamber – and even if we did the travel time to the other side of the world would erase any acclimatization gains before we hit the trailhead.

So here are the facts: Within the first four days of the Snowman we’ll trek from our start point at about 8,500 feet to a point on the other side of the 16,400 foot Nylie La pass. Our max altitude on the Snowman will be the Rinchen Zoe La pass at 17,389 feet, about three weeks into the trek. And along the way there are another eight passes over 15,000 feet. The way we’ll get through them all is quite simple. We’ll put one foot in front of the other, in front of the other; in front of the other . . . You get the idea.

So while we can’t necessarily train for altitude, we can be aware of and to some extent prepare for it. We have experienced trekking in thin air before (Asia, Africa and South America) – and we know the symptoms that may signal some sort of altitude ailment.

We’ll tap into the conditioning effects of our 16-week training program for muscular strength and endurance – steady goes the course. We’ll take acetazolamide prophylactically to help our lungs adapt. We’ll follow the mountaineer’s rule of trek high, sleep low. We’ll drink copious amounts of water. We’ll employ intentional breathing techniques. Maybe we’ll do some meditation. We’ll recall that “it is what it is” from past treks, and we’ll remain aware and realistic in our expectations and our experiences.

The fact is, for most (if not all) goals, there are some circumstances, events and realities for which one cannot train – and some others will occur for which one has not planned. That, dear “doers of stuff” is simply life. Expecting the unexpected and accepting the immutable can take the edge off of that panic response that can precede a doer’s undoing.

So here’s the deal: Altitude (sometimes referred to as sh#!) happens. Kids get sick. Dogs run away. Cars break down. Muscles pull and complain. Work schedules turn on their heads. These things are part of life. No amount of worrying about the “what if” or ruing the “if only” will give you more energy than being fully aware, intentional and present in the moment.

In the pursuit of any goal, it’s truly one foot in front of the other and so on and so forth. That is doing.

Snowman Training Notes: It was a sprint/lactate tolerance interval day and I literally reached new heights on the versa climber. I looped in 16 intervals -- 15-second full intensity bursts -- into my 50-minute climb and logged 4,675 vertical feet. Got off the machine soaked in sweat . . . and happy.

Thought for the day: “You have to take risks. We will only understand the miracle of life fully when we allow the unexpected to happen.” ~Paulo Coelho

You Never Know Where You'll Find Inspiration

I’m one of those people who will, as my friends and family say, “talk to anyone.” Which is how I found myself engaged in an unexpectedly inspirational conversation with a petite, white-haired lady during my layover at the airport in Houston, Texas yesterday. What, you may wonder, does my brief chat have to do with the art of “doing stuff?" Quite simply, it reminded of two things: (1) that a fresh wind in our sails is a good thing, and (2) that goal setting and longevity surely are related. When I walked away from this amazing woman one of my first thoughts was, “I’m not done yet.”

. . . .because yesterday I happened to meet Colonel Mary Feik of the Civil Air Patrol.

Colonel Feik, at the hardy young age of 87, stood ramrod straight in a blue blazer and matching trousers. Her neat, close-cropped white hair and over-large glasses framed her glowing face. As I neared the departure gate – so recently changed that our Baltimore destination did not yet read on the illuminated sign at the ticketing desk, Colonel Feik approached me to confirm her own gate change with assurance that I also was Baltimore bound. My eyes quickly registered her nametag over her right breast and a single row of ribbons over the left. I introduced myself as a sister officer and inquired of her background. Her modest yet joyous recounting of her past was marvelous.

She was so obviously authentic that I knew I was in the presence of an accomplished woman of great history and service. Here’s a thumbnail of what you’ll find if you go to the Internet to research her name:


• She overhauled her first automobile engine at 13 (in her father’s repair shop).
• She was working on aircraft engines and military aircraft by the time she was 18.
• During WWII, she was the first and youngest woman to test fly military aircraft for research and development at Wright Field.
• Col. Feik flew more than 6,000 hours as a pilot in Fighter, Attack, Bomber, Cargo and Training Aircraft.
• She restored aircraft for the National Air and Space Museum.
• She was the first woman ever to receive the FAA’s Charles Taylor Master Mechanic Award (named for the mechanic and builder of the first aircraft engine used by the Wright Brothers).
• She still flies.
• She travels the country speaking and consulting;
• and this summer, she’ll travel to Alaska for her twelfth visit to personally award the Mary Feik Achievement Award to two Civil Air Patrol cadets in the tiny Alaskan village of Galena

Thank you, Colonel Mary Feik, for taking me airborne with your amazing spirit and for reminding me . . . I’ve so much more “stuff" to do.

Snowman Training Notes: Catch-up notes from my Oklahoma City weekend. Run plus strength training on Friday (1:10). Long walk-run with my pal, Chip on Saturday (1:10). Long flight back yesterday and we were back on the training hills today for three hours (quadrupling our hill work again). This is our final week in intensity training phase -- peak here we come!

Thought for the day: "If you find purpose in life, if you find your life is meaningful and if you have goal-directed behavior, you are likely to live longer,"~Dr. Patricia Boyle, neuropsychologist at the Rush Alzheimer's Disease Center and assistant professor of behavioral sciences at Rush University Medical Center in Chicago.

Connections

One of the spirit sticks that hangs in my foyer bears the quote, “Be with those who help your being.” The words are from a poem (see “thought for the day”). I love the phrase. It reminds me of the rich relationships that create texture, warmth and beauty in my life. They are the relationships that nurture my soul, comfort my heart and sing in a chorus of support and belief, “You can do anything you want.”

I so treasure these amazing connections. They feel timeless, yet steeped in history. When we revel in the memories of days past, they feel old and comfortable like a wonderfully broken-in pair of running shoes. And when we explore new chapters together and grow forward in our friendship, they feel fresh and exciting like the opening night of a new show.

When I step onto some new and challenging path, they are with me -- those who “help my being.” I invite them in when I am strong and when I am my most vulnerable. They are a snooze alarm when I’d rather sleep in; a second wind on the longest training run; a balm for sore muscles and a soft shoulder for hurt feelings. They are wise and accomplished and inspiring and encouraging.

Tomorrow morning I’ll get on a plane to visit one of my oldest and dearest pals, my West Point roommate. It’s a connection that has lasted over thirty years, and I treasure it as much today as I did when we panicked together over getting caught out of uniform on a football Saturday (took our hats off before entering the gate of Michie Stadium), collapsed in laughter over our own silly costumes for “after-taps” rallies and fretted our first assignments as commissioned officers – our first time to be separated after four years at the academy.

Chip (to my Dale) is one of the “six-chix,” who are my closest friends, confidants and advisors. She “helps my being,” and I help hers. Who helps your being? Whose being do you help? How are you connecting today and tomorrow?

Snowman Training Notes: Back to the gym for strength training. Started with 3,100 vertical feet on the versa-climber (30 minutes); then on to full body strength training (leg-centric as usual). Total training time: 1:05.

Thought for the day:

Be with those who help your being.
Don’t sit with indifferent people, whose breath
comes cold out of their mouths.
Not these visible forms, your work is deeper.

A chunk of dirt thrown in the air breaks to pieces.
If you don’t try to fly,
and so break yourself apart,
you will be broken open by death,
when it’s too late for all you could become.

Leaves get yellow. The tree puts out fresh roots
and makes them green.
Why are you so content with a love that turns you yellow?

~Rumi

Things My Sister Taught Me #1 -- Getting Rid of Gnats

My sister is a wise woman. I think perhaps she always has been. As a kid I think she was one of those “old souls,” who could gain insights through noticing things that the rest of us lost in youthful self-absorption. Whatever the case, I have learned some pretty profound things from her observations of life. Many people with whom I have worked know the gnat story, which I always attribute to my sis. For those of you who haven’t heard it, it is much more than a story. It is a practice for refusing the folly of our self-created, ego-centric preoccupations so we can stay true to our paths.

Here’s how it goes . . .

I grew up in steamy, buggy, hot-as-Hades (as my mom would exclaim) southern Florida. Insects of every type –- vicious mosquitoes, creepy cockroaches (that life-long Floridians solicitously call “Palmettos Bugs”) and annoying gnats -- were simply a part of the landscape. I can recall days when, at the end of a game of sandlot baseball, gnats swarmed thick around our sweaty heads and sticky necks. The gnats would rarely light and didn’t bite. But their very presence easily could drive us to the point of distraction.

Sitting one summer eve with our knobby little backs pressed against the brick wall that led to our front door, my sister observed to me that she could make the gnats disappear. I gave her a sideways glance. This magic fascinated me! How, I questioned, could she do that? Close your eyes, she urged. Expecting a miracle, I followed my older sister’s instruction. And immediately, the gnats were gone!

My sister had figured out that some little things simply weren’t worth the aggravation with which we chose to empower them. At different times in my life, I have summoned my sister’s magic in this regard, closing my eyes to the gnats of my own invention. These “gnats” are the bothers that neither light nor bite, but swirl out there just beyond my influence. If you are anything like me, you keep a jar of them ready to open at any time. They are the “what ifs,” the “can’t helps” and the “he or she thinks” that we conjure in our heads. Though quite small and insignificant, when we allow them to distract and aggravate they can derail us from our goals.

Or we can work a little magic, deny them space and let them go.

Snowman Training Notes: Un-programmed break in the training plan today. I shifted to a kettle bell workout today. Experimenting with my pal’s TRX this weekend reminded me of the importance of core – and more core. Mixing it up was good for my body and my head.

Thought for the day: "The possession of anything begins in the mind." ~ Bruce Lee

Change Your Thoughts and Change Your Mind

Last night spouse and I checked the Snowman Trek Training Calendar and confirmed that this morning presented the longest training day of the intensity period. We agreed upon our 16-mile hike. We would start early for the quadrupled-hill session in order to finish before noon.

Unfortunately, by the time the morning rolled around I was experiencing a matrimonial dip – not exactly alien to a thirty-year marriage. As a result, I was not happy to walk the trail with my training and trekking (so-called) buddy.

Then I pulled to mind a truth I often discuss with clients. That is, that we can only experience one thought at a time. While most people have about 60,000 thoughts a day, which pushes the notion that that we are juggling many thoughts at once, we really can manage only one thought at a time. With this awareness, I decided to replace my negative thoughts (either of the past: what he did to aggravate me; or of the future: how that aggravation would manifest itself) with present thoughts (just not of the man next to me in this case).

I grabbed my headphones on the way out of the door, and tuned in to some up-tempo music on the first hill. (Ever tried staying mad through a smile?) For anyone who’s been reading my blog, you know that music is important to me – good for me. Like some weird magic, once the music encouraged a smile, I started to notice things: fat pollywogs along the edge of the lake, a fawn pausing on the edge of the woods, frogs diving for a muddy ditch, changing colors in the berries. When I took off my headphones from a place of full presence, I heard spouse talking. I mean I really heard him without any filters of ire or judgment. He made sense. He was actually quite likeable and charming. I had managed to change my mind by changing my thoughts.

The rest of the day? Peaceful and productive.

When your inner voice starts to tug you off track, try changing your thoughts. Replace what is causing turmoil and draining energy with something that makes you smile – then come back to the present and breathe.

Snowman Training Notes: After we got back from a mountain lake weekend with friends yesterday, we added a 1:45 climb endurance workout (6.5 mile) to my early morning swim. Then today we were back out early for a 16-mile, hill-centric hike of 4:15. Tonight we are a little tired, recharging for tomorrow. Adding lots more stretching to pre and post workout time now.

Thought for the day: “Once you replace negative thoughts with positive ones, you'll start having positive results.” ~ Willie Nelson

On the Lake Again

We're off again with pals -- different friends, different lake -- another idyllic summer weekend. As we settle to rest in the afternoon, I hear a tiny voice from deep within. It says, "Thank you for this gentle peace."

Snowman Training Notes: This is our off day for the week. I stretched out with a quick lake swim this morning -- nothing too serious. Yesterday's workout was 45 minutes aerobic split between the Octane Pro 3700 and the Summit Trainer, then wrapped up with my trekking strength training routine. Total training time 1:15.

Thought for the day: The quieter you become, the more you can hear. ~ Baba Ram Dass

SHOULD: The 800-lb Guerilla

I hear it often, “I really should (delegate more, eat less, go to bed earlier, finish that report . . . ).” I’m sure you can fill in the blank with any number of “shoulds” that are written on your to-do list right now. And you know what, that “should” almost certainly won’t move you to action. It will however, likely come happily into your emotional space and sit squarely on your head -- squashing out light, constricting your breathing and just generally leaving you with a huge (and immobilizing) headache.

The very sound of “should” inevitably creates a guerilla (little war) in your mind that is sown from duty and obligation and too often results in feelings of moral failure and guilt.

A “should” statement, as we most commonly (and carelessly) use it, is one of ten cognitive distortions from the cognitive therapy field of psychology. Existing separate from rational problem solving, the 800-lb heft of the automatic “should” is created by obligations we believe family, friends, society (others) have placed on us.

This “should” thing is heavy, uncomfortable and discouraging from the first squeak. Giving voice to a “should” statement is a little like putting on one of those ridiculous sumo wrestler fat-suits you see on game shows, instead of a bathing suit, to swim a mile. Why would you weigh yourself down like that? Well the truth is, you wouldn’t! It’s a ridiculous choice. And therein is the power – CHOICE!

When you feel that “should” get ready to pass your pearly whites and bubble-gum lips (thanks, John Mayer), wage your own counter-attack to its guerilla tactics! Immediately replace “should” with “choose to”, and let the declaration go forth with the power to create context and generate action toward your goal. Wow, what a difference a word (spoken or thought) can make.

Snowman Training: Two days here since I didn’t blog yesterday. Wednesday: logged 4,000 vertical feet on the versa climber (42 minutes) and completed my trekking strength training routine. Total time: 1:15. Thursday, back to lactate threshold intervals: run/row mix. Total time: 1:00.

Thought for the Day: "Be careful what you water your dreams with. Water them with worry and fear and you will produce weeds that choke the life from your dream. Water them with optimism and solutions and you will cultivate success. Always be on the lookout for ways to turn a problem into an opportunity for success. Always be on the lookout for ways to nurture your dream." ~ Lao Tzu

There's No Place Like Home

It’s the little things that keep me grounded. The smell of fresh laundry, the feel of a dog’s wet nose, the sound of a robin in the morning, the smile that plays in the eyes of my husband from across the dinner table. They are instances and experiences that bring me back to myself – centered and happy. No matter how fast I’m moving forward – I remember to never leave home.
 

Snowman Training Notes: Sprint intervals today (lactate threshold). Working full intensity intervals for short distances with longer rests. I headed back to the pool and used a triathlon training drill – swimming 25M sprints with 50M drill recoveries (alternating kick board and pull buoy). Since my climbing emphasis has been on legs, this change up really taxed my arms. It was great, though, to be back in the pool. Total training time: 45 minutes.

Thought for the day: "I long, as does every human being, to be at home wherever I find myself." ~Maya Angelou

PIT -- QIF

When I was training for my Ironman distance triathlon in 2009, I was reading everything I could find about endurance sports. I also I was reading about athletes who had pushed the limit and achieved beyond what they or the world previously thought possible. While I certainly didn’t count myself among those super heroes, I was inspired by their stories and fascinated by the things that motivated and drove them to succeed. Not surprisingly, one of the books I read during that time was Lance Armstrong’s, It’s Not About the Bike, My Journey Back to Life. If there was anybody who was out there muscling through adversity and dissuading naysayer’s (even his own inner voice), it was Lance coming back to biking in the wake of cancer.

Because of Lance, every time I take my triathlon bike in to be tuned, someone asks me what the letters “PIT" and "QIF” written on my aerobars mean. Those letters are a reminder and a mantra. They remind me that I can’t go back in mile 16 of a marathon and get in that week of training I cheated on in June. They remind me that I can’t steal away at the seventh water point on a bike route and squeeze in that century I meant to ride in July but closed out at 68 miles because I was tired, or hot or uncomfortable in the saddle. And they remind me that it will be more difficult to look at the finish line in longing knowing that I could have, when I chose not to. You see, PIT/ QIF stands for Pain is temporary. Quitting is forever. It’s a paraphrase of an Armstrong quote (see the thought for the day).

I understand PIT/QIF. It learned it in spades along the roads and trails of the Hudson Valley in the late 1970s.

As a young cadet at West Point, I hadn’t developed the mental toughness to push beyond much pain. As a result, I became an expert at experiencing the pain of quitting. Breathlessness, cramping leg muscles and that panicky feeling of falling behind never were going to last beyond the end of any cadet run. Still, my adolescent head gave out before my healthy young body ever really did. And I can declare without question that quitting was the greater hurt. It stuck with me for years.

At some point we all stand at a place of uncertainty or difficult challenge in working toward tough goals. It’s normal and it’s human. It is the land of excuses and stories and seeking justification for all of the reasons we think we just can’t – when we can. It also is the place where we can find that spirit within us to keep pushing and really "dig deep." It is mental toughness. It is experience, honesty and awareness. And it is learnable and accessible to us all.

Snowman Training Notes: Four hours of aerobic exercise. My torture of choice: 90 minutes of running, 30 minutes of stair climbing and two hours of cycling. Yep, I basically worked out a marathon today in training. Nothing for a super athlete, but I’m not that. I am a fifty-something chick who knows PIT/QIF -- just another training day in the bag. It will be there when I need to dig deep at altitude.

Thought for the day: "Pain is temporary. It may last a minute, or an hour, or a day, or a year, but eventually it will subside and something else will take its place. If I quit, however, it lasts forever. That surrender, even the smallest act of giving up, stays with me. So when I feel like quitting, I ask myself, which would I rather live with?" ~Lance Armstrong