Genie Wishes and New Year’s Resolutions

Sreaming of BIG THINGS and expecting them to happen are the central theme of this web site, but they should not be confused with rubbing a genie lamp with the expectation of granting your wishes immediately. No, you have to work for your success. And you will determine quickly that you will only sweat and toil for only those things you really care about. “Rubbing a genie lamp” is the equivalent of wishing for whatever trivial passing fancy that peels your banana.

You could say to yourself, “I wish I could play piano like that.” “I wish I had the million bucks to buy that mansion.” “I wish I could fly a plane.” “I wish I were the head of a big corporation.”

There are thousands of these kinds of wishes for every human on the planet. Some might be legitimate, but most are not. If you really, really wanted these wishes to come true, you would do something about it. You might even focus all your life’s energy in the direction of such an object. If you did, it would be a goal. If you don’t, it is just a genie wish. Unlike genie wishes, goals are meant for the hopes and dreams in life that you truly long for – real life changing or purpose fulfilling desires. Genie wishes are no different than my 4-year-old daughter’s oft repeated declarations of “I want that!” during toy commercials between cartoons. Those wishes have about as much value as the plastic used to make the toys.

And if genie wishes have as much life-fulfilling nutritional value as saccharine, then New Year’s resolutions are Nutrasweet.

Do not do New Year’s resolutions. There are no good New Year’s resolutions. Most end in failure because they are not carefully considered and likely have little purpose.

People force themselves into the hype of New Year’s resolutions as if January 1 is some special occasion on which to reset our personal clock or change our lives. Truth is, time is an abstract concept created by humans, and the Winter Solstice around which New Year’s occurs is as much a milestone in your personal chronology as, say, January 2, or April 27, or August 15. The day doesn’t matter. The act and your commitment to it are what are important.

New Year’s Resolutionists also often toss off their declarations as if they’re telling some subordinate what to do, lording over their “otherselves” as if they can bark orders and expect them to be done. “This year I resolve not to be so lardy. OK, Me, go unlard yourself. Well, get to it, fatty. Why aren’t you de-lardifying yourself?!”

Truth is, the only New Year’s resolution – the best New Year’s resolution – is the one that happens anytime of year when you truly, honestly “resolve” yourself – religiously commit yourself – to do something. You can’t just resolve to quit smoking because you know its bad for you; you have to desire to quit. You have to make – as described in the previous chapter – a decision. It has to have almost a “religious” value to you to give it meaning and purpose. Otherwise a New Year’s resolution is just another self-imposed obstacle that will lead to failure and disappointment.

Most importantly, most New Year’s resolutions lack everything necessary for a goal to be successful: value, strategy, specificity, measurability, and commitment

“When a man does a thoroughly stupid thing, it is usually done from the noblest of motives or while trying to get laid.”

Oscar Wilde

Excellent new post on Goalmaking

Whether you're preparing to run a marathon, or mentally preparing yourself for any of life's marathon challenges, this is a good page to help guide you, if I say so my own self.

The important thing is not to stop questioning. Curiosity has its own reasons for existing. One cannot help but be in awe when he contemplates the mysteries of life, of the marvelous structure of reality. It is enough if one tries, merely to comprehend a little of this mystery everyday. Never lose a holy curiosity.

Albert Einstein

“Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall.”

Confucius

Priorities?

das good, yah.

Ho boy. Have I become anti-running? Well, no. I've been battling for a few weeks what feels like tuberculosis. So I haven't felt at all like training for anything, let alone a leisurely run in the neighborhood.

This weekend I was supposed to run in the Providence Corporate Cup. A team of co-workers and I were going to compete on behalf of the state agency I work for. Maybe its Spring Fever and there are other, more fun things to do this weekend - like eat crawfish. Or maybe my co-workers realized they didn't want to spend their weekend with the people they stare at 5 other days of the week. Who could blame them? So the team has fallen apart, and I for one prefer to go fishing with my kids.

But make no mistake. I am loaded for bear for the Fat Boy 5K.

I'm a music lover

... which is not really a bold statement. But at least I know that when I listen to music it makes my toes tap and causes me to do embarrassing white man dance moves.

Lawd have mercy

I also know that when I hum tunes to myself, it is a subconscious signal that I am in a good mood. Sometimes when I'm down in the dumps, I can pivot from bad to good mood by listening to favorite music, which invariably causes me to sing aloud and horribly. Before I know it I am either in a good mood, or at least I'm not in a foul mood.

Actually, I first have to decide that I want to be in a good mood, which for me is not often very easy. Regrettably, I many times want to be in a bad mood. Or if I'm angry, I soak it up for a while. There is probably a shrink somewhere out there who wants to diagnose me. Slow down, Frasier! Once I decide that it is time to remove the black cloud, I can soon change my mood.

We're all all right!
Hello, Wisconsin!

Observe your own signals when you're in a good mood. Or, what are some basic behaviors you can think of that make you happy? Music - for me - is an easy way to go. Maybe for you it is a walk in the neighborhood or watching a funny show on TV. It could even be playing with a pet. Me, I like to sing

Obviously there are thousands of songs to choose. Lately I've used these to help me out:

1. "No Woman No Cry," Bob Marley and the Wailers
2. "Theme Song to 'That 70s Show'," Cheap Trick
3. "What I Got," Eric Lindell
4.  "My Style," Black Eyed Peas
5.  Foo Fighters, all of "Wasting Light"
6.  Pearl Jam, all of "Backspacer"

Anyway, you get the point now.

What happens when you drop out of a marathon and stop running altogether?

Why, you sign up for the Fat Boy 5-K in Baton Rouge. Sausage poboys, chocolate milk, beer, donuts... and that's just the pre-race meal. The Fat Boy is one of my mostest favoritest races ever. It is only a 5-K, but the top 100 finishers get a beer coozie! Does Boston give a beer coozie? Does New York serve donuts?  I don't think so.

The Fat Boy is a qualifier for the Happy's 5000, a cross-town rival that indulges in an equal amount of vice, especially cigarettes. I haven't run the Happy's 5000 yet, but I aspire to it. For now, it is only a dream. For now a 5000 is out of my reach. I'll have to settle for a 5-K instead.

Few posts lately...

Ever since the rush of the Rouge Orleans ultra relay, I have been postless. Frankly, I've been really down in the dumps.

For many reasons, I did not run the New Orleans Rock n' Roll Marathon that I was totally looking forward to. There has been tremendous pressure at work - they're firing people left and right - and I'm one of those dopes who purchased a home with an exotic mortgage. To make matters worse, I stupidly bought another home before selling the first.

So far I still have food to eat and 10 year old clothes to wear -- thank you Banana Republic for never going out of style. Right? Banana Republic isn't unfashionable yet, is it? -- but the pressure and anxiety have been breathtaking... at least for me.
I've been through this before, though more seriously than now. After that experience I resolved never to be unhappy -- or at least allow myself to get severely depressed again. So when I found myself wandering this questionable neighborhood of sad sackedness, I again resolved to escape it.
That's what I'm doing now. I'm still very bummed, anxious, frustrated, insercure, pissed, and gassy, but I'm gonna get out of it.

If you wanna see how I'm gonna do it, check it out. If not, I'll keep you posted.

New page of wisdom (POW!) at Tao of Po

"POW!" is tongue in cheek. I'm not that cute.

So we have a new page about finding your inner power. Every one wants power! The cheapest and easiest way to get it is from within.

Seriously, even the most socially awkward, talentless oaf has unique skills and power. Po of Kung Fu Panda fame demonstrates: Click. Click like the wind!

Easy Sticks Roll into Audubon Park

This is Team Easy Sticks at the finish line. The name is Easy (New Orleans
is the Big Easy) Sticks (Baton Rouge is Red Stick) because the race was from
Baton Rouge to New Orleans. I think I've just about worked through the
soreness.

Finished!

I finished my last leg on the last round of the race. Three more legs to go and cross the finish. In case I didn't say, the entire 126.2 miles was run along the Mississippi River levee and parts of River Road among cows and chemical plants, almost totally in the dar. And we did it. Or we're 3 legs away from doing it.
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Finished 4th round at around 3am

Cold, cold blast at the start, more temperate as the miles passed. One more leg and done!

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Leg 15. Done.

Ran about 5 miles alone in the dark along the levee around Convent, LA. Lots of commerce along the river. I think I may have caught blood poisoning from the fumes. Also, it was a little awkward when I was the lone witness to a couple fighting outside a bar. Thankfully they didn't notice me, and thankfully I was running away.

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George is passing... Or being passed?

Armed Forces team

They're running the entire race while carrying a flag. And they passed us a long time ago.

Rouge Orleans - David finishing exchange 5

Just finished my leg

4.09 miles @ 8 min pace. Wind is blowing like crazy.

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Rouge Orleans starts with a BOOM!

Greg leads our team on leg 1. I was looking thru Chris's video camera so I could capture Greg's start. Before I knew it BOOM! The cannon of the USS Kidd destroyer exploded. Shook my pants, which is good. Shook 'em clean.

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Toe issues... Toe is me

Ok. That was bad.

Still have toe issues that plagued me in Houston. It's not hurting, but I tingles when I walk. I've run short mileage -- 3 to 4 miles -- and it actually feels better. Fortunately, I won't run more than 5 to 7 miles at a time during the relay. When I get to big miles, that's when it hurts.

So, tomorrow should be good. Its the New Orleans marathon in 3 weeks that worries me.

Developing...

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126.2 mi Rouge Orleans ultra starts tonight!

Our team starts at 1p tomorrow. Follow my tweets and posts for all the excitement.

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Friggin' Foot Pain Mystery Solved!

So, the excruciating pain in my left toe/foot that practically stopped me in my tracks around mile 15 is... drumroll... capsulitis.

The pain in my foot felt like what many describe as plantar faciitis, but the pain didn't seem to occur where most people say plantar faciitis strikes.

The doc told me today that capsulitis is actually pretty common among runners and that it can be addressed with either a shot of cortisone - which might weaken the ligaments around bones and cause the bones to separate under extreme circumstances -- and/or a metatarsal pad, which is something of an orthotic insert in the shoe.

I'll wear that around until the Rouge Orleans Ultra. We'll see how it works. Will report on the success.

Looks like the Tao of Po as found its wu wei into a Top 50 ranking. Feets don't fail me now!

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Reflection on Houston Marathon

Though my angry foot wrecked the last 10 miles of the marathon, I ran surprisingly strong for 15 miles. I was on pace to finish 4:20 or 4:30, which isn't great but would've satisfied me plenty.

In retrospect I should have done one more thing to improve my race performance: run in some warm-up 10Ks and a half.

By running in races prior to the big one, you get accustomed to the energetic race environment and race conditions in general.

For me, it would have helped me gauge how fast I could run and for how long. I could have knowingly entered the marathon with a faster, sustainable race pace.

More importantly, I might have encountered the foot thing well in advance to have it treated.

If my foot hadn't given me the finger, I know my time would have been much better.

Funny, even as I type this, the guilty middle toe still tingles and feels a little numb too. Wait, that's not funny.

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A little Houston Marathon memento

They gave us a beer mug too, though I haven't tried it out yet. Boy, am I sore today.

Houston Marathon. Done.

My middle left toe and arch hurt like hell, which prevented me from finishing 4:20-4:30. Still hurts and I'm limping. A doc visit in my near future.

I was disappointed in my 4:45 finish, but dang don't it always feel good to finish. I'm very psyched.

Now I will soak in a hot shower. Plop on the bed. Watch the Texans game (I am in Houston after all) and feast on a bounty of post-race snacks and Advil.

Next stop: Rouge Orleans Ultra then New Orleans then Fat Boy 5k.

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Houston Marathon is tomorrow! Are these butterflies I feel or too much Gu?

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In 20 years I never thought I'd say this: SMU is killing Pitt in the BBVA Compass Bowl. Go Peruna!

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At least my coffee mug is inspirational (wife approved)

Houston Marathoners, do not mess with your pre-race routine!

Why was my 6-mile run so lame this morning? I slept horribly last night so instead of the usual Gatorade and bagel bite, I drank a huge cup of coffee and part of a hotdog bun.

Man, this ain't college any more. I'm too old for improvised marathon training.

Whatever you're doing now before daily runs, keep it up and don't divert -- especially race day!

Coffee is ok, Gatorade is great, bagel bites are good too. Whatever you're doing now, stay with it.

And while you're at it, you should be carbo loading and tapering this week. My favorite part of marathon training!
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Aching ankles, shoe adjustments

I blogged after Christmas about my joy over my new running shoes. Good, quality running shoes are your most important running equipment. They're expensive ($100 - $200 on average), but they're cheaper than a gym membership.

So while breaking them in the last 2 weeks, my ankles and achilles heel have been killing me. Also, while running my heels felt like they were coming out of the shoes. Very aggravating.

I had forgotten that this exact problem occurred last year when I was breaking in another new pair of shoes. After several months of painful ankles and achilles heels I loosened my shoe laces toward the toes and top of my foot while tying tight. Problem solved. The shoes felt more snug and there was no ankle slippage.

Now, I admit that this is a boring anecdote. Why did I waste 2 minutes of your life telling it? So you will know how important good, quality shoes are to your feet and that if you experience problems, tinker with them. If you can't solve the problem, go back to the store and have them fit you properly. That's their job and they should know how to do it.




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Thanks for the tweet RunningRebecca!

She asked how it was going with my beach run training. Sadly, those days were fleeting. I'm back to the circuitous monotony of doing laps in my neighborhood. But alas, the Houston Marathon is 9 days away! Then Rouge-Orleans in Feb, NOLA Marathon in March, Fat Boy 5k in April, and then crawfish season, which will ruin me for the rest of the year!
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This is what the end of a 6 mile run at the beach looks like. Happy New Year!

Everyone needs to believe in something. I believe I'll have a beer.

Does Beer Affect Your Training? Active.com

Limosines for the feets!

Santa brought me a pair of bright, pimped out size 11 Asics Gel Nimbus 13s. The soles have the impressive GU Dance Line, whatever that is.

These are the carriages that'll carry me across the Houston Marathon, Rouge Orleans Ultra Relay and New Orleans Marathon finish lines. And because I'm training in the cool months, these won't stink nearly as much as the Asics I just retired.

They were good to me too. They helped me in the final stages of Chicago Marathon training, the race itself, and prepped me for Houston -- though I should have traded them in long ago.

After I finish Christmas clean up -- the tree is punishing my allergies -- I'll wax philosophical on shoes. Can't wait.

Merry day after Christmas and Happy New Year!

Worst. Run. Ever. 19.25 miles of misery.

Well, actually 14 miles of powerful, determined running, another 3-ish of plodding, and a final 3-ish of ugly loping and puttering. When I started this morning it was great, probably because the temperatures were moderate... in the 50s. By the time 14 and 16.5 miles rolled around the temps had climbed nearly 20 degrees. I wilted. Folded like a beach chair. Spent like casino quarter. It was the ugliest run I can remember... at least the finish was.

This is exactly what happened at the 2010 Chicago Marathon when the temps started very cool for a Great Lakes fall morning then climbed into the 70s late in the morning. You know, the time you need your strength the most to finish the race.

On top of it all, I foolishly drank two cups of coffee early in the morning. By mile 14 I had to stop for a drink of water, but by then it was too late: I was already dehydrated. I thought a lot about proper hydration and even gave thoughts to hyponatremia (dehydration's polar opposite evil twin). Fortunately, I finished, hydrated, showered and ate.

I have been feeling sick to my stomach since I finished. Have you ever experienced this? I don't know what it is or if it has anything to do with running. I'm not sick, but I am oogie.

Still, I finished the 19-mile long run. Next stop, 22 miles. But this time I will start early, early in the morning to avoid overheating and dehydration.

3 miles down, 19 to go

Ran 8 miles Saturday, 6 miles Sunday and 3 miles tonight in preparation for tomorrow's 19 miles. Again, my lack of faith in my erratic training program gives me pause. I find that I am once again anxious about running the 19 mile long run tomorrow.

The Houston Marathon is one month away. After the 19-miler I still need to run 21 miles then taper for the January 14 race. I feel like I'm behind and forcing myself to run a race ill-prepared.

There is no doubt that I will finish the race, but I don't want to run another turkey like I did in Chicago last year when I finished 5 hrs +. Yes, my motto is to finish, not place, but 5 hrs was embarrasingly ridiculous. I don't want to do that again.

I hope I can pull it off tomorrow.

New Orleans Marathon -- AWESOME new course!!

Run through the CBD, Garden District, St. Charles Ave., Audubon Park, the Quarter, up Esplanade through City Park, to the Lakefront... man, that's hitting all the great hot spots in NOLA -- at least the ones that don't serve adults. Check it out: New Orleans R&R Marathon course map. The race is all the way in March but I am already so psyched for it. By then I will have finished the Houston Marathon and Rouge Orleans Ultra Relay. Boo-yah! So psyched!

Marathong

I don't know what bizarre sense of pride convinced me all these many years that it is more dignified to run in tights and soccer shorts than those abhorrent running shorts with the hammock. Is it because they barely cover the thigh (a la Dolphin shorts) or is it the awkward nest they give you to rest your pieces? Whatever the reason, I refused to wear them because I found them as embarrassing as women's underwear. Now I find myself at a crossroads. After more than 15 years of marathoning I fear I must give up the tight nylon security blanket for the article of clothing I've dreaded most. Let me just say that not since the Great Chicago Fire has there been greater burning. So, either I punish my body and risk deformity, or I add to my already humiliating running time and form by donning the shorts of shame. Is there no alternative?
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8.25 miles like the wind!

Another great night run. Cool temps, clear, starry sky and big moon. Christmas lights galore... And I ran like a grandpa. I felt really strong. In fact, I thought I was booking it especially as I outran two tiny dogs. But the clock said otherwise. Another reason why I eschew the objectivity of the chronograph. Let me fudge on time and distance. That's my motto. Still and all, a nice run for all and to all a good night.
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What you missed last week in the world of marathon training...

Last week's readership was lower than usual, mainly, I suspect, because I got off the subject of marathon training proper and jumped into the subject of dreaming big dreams and going for them.

The subject is, I'll admit, somewhat saccharine. Indeed, I cringe at the word "dreams" and the image of beamy-eyed New Agers trying to coax me into believing in myself and following my dreams. But, as I mentioned in last week's entries, there's a point to all this.

Dreams are those wishes and desires that are seemingly outside our reach. If they weren't so hard to reach, they'd be called errands.

Dreams inspire us because they represent an ideal version of our lives or a thrilling achievement that would, if realized, greatly impact our lives. If they weren't, they'd be called a "To do list."

Marathons -- among other amazing feats -- fit into the category of dreams because (a) they are seemingly impossible to the mere mortal and/or (b) if you train for and finish a marathon, you will be a different person afterward.

You don't have to dream about marathons. Your dreams can be about anything. I'm pretty sure most of your dreams, if you have them, have very little to do with marathon running or even exercise for that matter.

What's important is that you deliberately stir up what's inside you to realize your dreams -- whatever they are -- and to go after them.

The point of last week's blogs was to illustrate to you how I came upon the "dream" of finishing a marathon, how it changed my life, and how I discovered that it is important to constantly have a dream even if it isn't about marathon running.

We'll get back to marathoning soon, but don't ever pretend that this blog is exclusively about training for and finishing a marathon. It is about whatever dream or ambition you want.

Best. Run. Ever.

Ran 16.5 mi in 50-degree overcast weather on a monotonous loop 6 times around. It was awesome!
Started w/some procrastination in the early morning, then a shot of coffee - not a whole cup - and some Gatorade.

Strong run. Strong Gu. Strong legs. Strong lungs... Strong smell. Time to hit the showers.

Still a little behind where I want to be in my training schedule. Houston Marathon is Jan 14. All in all, I'm feeling good.

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Happy Hour, Happy Times. Drinkin’ and Dreamin’

What I’m about to tell you should probably wait until the end of the book, or not be mentioned at all.  But, the more I think about it, the more convinced I am that the story of my first marathon is apropos to the message of this book.

In the spring of 1996, I was living in Washington, DC, working in the U.S. House of Representatives. My house was located near the office and next to a popular bar. Go figure. My cousin, who is much less handsome and nowhere near as charming as me, came up for a visit from Richmond one weekend.  After about three pitchers of beer and several hours of talking smack about nothing, one of us courageously proclaimed that he would jump out of an airplane tomorrow morning.  No kidding.  The other, I don’t remember whom, readily agreed, and by the next morning we both were calling skydiving companies all up and down the Chesapeake.

Fortunately for us, nobody was taking customers that morning.  This was good because both of us would have been puking before we put on our jumpsuits. 

None deterred, we tried again the next morning, suspicious of the other’s determination to go through with the Bud-filled challenge two nights before.  Politely locking our pride in the basements of our souls, neither would admit that he was a little scared to go through with it.  We remained this way for the hour drive out to the jump grounds, through the training videos and demonstrations, and while being strapped into jumpsuits three sizes too small and ten odors too stinky.  In fact, we swallowed our pride enough to fly a corkscrew pattern up to 10,500 feet in a puddle-jumper, in bad weather until we each jumped out the plane free falling at 120 miles per hour for more than a mile, flying like Superman - rather, dropping like Superman in a jumpsuit of kryptonite - until we pulled our cords, felt our progeny thrust into our stomachs, and floated delicately to the earth while muttering to ourselves, “Holy crap. I did it.”  And I did.  I’ve got a video, pictures, and a high-pitched voice to prove it.

Two weeks later I found myself at the same watering hole, waxing moxie and derring-do, sharing tales of my conquest with an easily unimpressed audience, when again the gauntlet was thrown for yet another challenge. Among our lot there was discussion of great, but impossible feats. You know, those ridiculous human pursuits of cave diving… bungee jumping… mountain climbing (hmmmm) … sky diving (hey, wait a minute)… and marathoning (Eureka!). 

One of us declared, I don’t remember whom, “Let’s run a marathon!”

The Bat Signal of adventure and personal challenge was lit, the challenge was made, and I would respond with a “Holy crap, Batman!  I’m going to run a marathon!”

I know you’re not stupid.  You do not need me to state explicitly what was implied in my cleverly told anecdote.  But, I will.  You don’t need pitchers of beer to dream big.  We all do that anyway.  Take, for instance, the sensation you feel when you buy a lottery ticket.  If you haven’t bought a lottery ticket, you won’t understand.  Turn away from the blog, go to the 7-Eleven or Quickie Mart or the gas station and purchase $1 of lotto-filled inflated expectations.  Work with me on this. 

As you hold the ticket in your hand, what are thinking?  You’re thinking how you’re going to spend the money aren’t you?  You’re fantasizing about losing a shoe in your boss’ derriere as you sign off from jobland.  What car are you driving? Where is the house(s) you’re going to build? Now you can do that thing you’ve always been dreaming about. Now you can be, now you can have….

Now stop.  What are you doing?  You are dreaming big.  In your mind are the castles and sports cars and fine clothes and fabulous vacations and other opportunities that are otherwise absent from your day-to-day thinking.  This is the “Impossible Dream,” and it doesn’t take a pitcher of beer or a lottery ticket to conceive them in your head.  Come on.  Let go.  Let your mind wander like an ADD patient at a whistles and bells convention.  Just dream.  Its fun, it’s easy, and it’s free. 

Now ask yourself: What is between you and all that you just dreamed (with the exception of you wingnuts who want to be Spiderman.  This book is not for you.  Put your arms back in the jacket and return to your padded room.)?

So, what do you want? Ask yourself, what is it? Good. Now I’ll show you how to get it.

I'm gonna invoke Fight Club

It is important – vitally important, if you don’t mind the hyperbole – to constantly challenge one’s imagination. We can never measure the capacity of one’s ability until he or she is challenged to the fullest. What is both grand and at the same time frustrating is that with each challenge successfully vanquished we learn more of what we’re capable of accomplishing. All at once we learn, we adapt, and we grow. Our capacity to do more becomes greater, and the challenge to measure that capacity becomes greater – but, oh what a voyage. I describe it as “frustrating” because as we grow, we will crave more growth, more understanding, more awareness, and more personal power. It’s a never ending cycle! Oh the humanity!

Allow me to draw what is perhaps a strange illustration: the characters in the disturbing film Fight Club belong to a club, obviously, chartered for fist fighting. Blood and guts aside, the movie presented a thesis that sticks with me today. The leader of the club recruits members and challenges them to leave the comfort zone of their boring, predictable, routine lives and to learn to literally fight for their lives.

By fighting, they learn their limits and potential, but more importantly, once they measure the capacity of their individual powers, they become more powerful. Powerful because they lose their fear of the unknown. They literally lern how to take a punch. They learn their pain threshold. They learn just how brave (or crazy) they are and how far they are willing to push their limits.

Their confidence increases because they conquer their unknowns. Of course, I and the police and your parents don’t encourage you to become violent and self-flagellating, but at least I urge you to test the boundaries of your abilities [isn’t that like free speech too? Challenging our sensibilities to teach us new perspectives?]. Doing so will empower you to chart newer, bolder courses in your life.

Life doesn’t have to be about winning the presidency or the Super Bowl or the Pulitzer Prize (though these are worthy goals, and if you strive for them, I believe you can make them happen!).  Most of us mortals live on terra firma where our goals usually are to get out of debt, get a better job, gain more wealth, have a healthy family, or seek out other life events or milestones typical of most humans. However, if there is one point I hope you walk away from this blog with, it is simply: Ask yourself what you want and go after it. Equally important, as yourself what is seemingly impossible or scary and go after that!

LSU's Claiborne intercepts for TD! 42 to 10!

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Blue scores TD! LSU 35 to UGA 10! SEC Champs (almost) and en route to BCS!

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Running blog WHAT?! Geaux Tigers!

LSU up 28 to 10 over UGA. Honey badger punt return for TD. 2 Rushing TDs. Powerful D!
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The 2% Fulcrum

My wife says that I am perhaps among 2 percent of the entire global population who think this way – and she is not, I might add, flattering me.  And she’s probably right. But I believe that 100 percent of the planet – meaning everybody – dream for a better life, wish they could play the piano, want more money, want true love, want to excel at work, want to lose weight, want to hit all their free-throws, want As and Bs on their report cards, want to be healthier, want _______ (insert your desire here).

Many people observe celebrity and wish they were rich, famous or superbly talented. This is the unfortunate byproduct of witnessing greatness and wanting to have it. Most folks focus on the end result and disregard the years of blood, sweat and tears it takes to create such greatness.

Everybody wants something – something they consider unattainable or impossible to achieve – and merely dismiss such dreaming as passing fancy or pipe dreaming.

 Have you ever whined, “Oh, I wish I could…” or “If I only had….”? Of course you have. Or, if you haven’t whined about it, you secretly have held a desire to have or do something more than what you’ve got or done so far. 

Before I trained for my first marathon, I easily dismissed such fanciful notions of marathons and mountain climbing as ridiculously out of my reach. Boy, have I changed.
 

Well, you can do whatever it is you want, and you can have that which you desire. You see, yes, there are perhaps only 2 percent of the world’s population that think this way, but it takes the 2 percent to show the other 98 percent that dreams are real and can come true.

 
And by the way, it is the 98 percent who either work for or admire the glamorous 2 percent. Hmmm. Maybe there’s something to that.

Admittedly, there are obstacles, challenges, and new priorities in your life that might cause a dream to be postponed.

It is easy to get discouraged and throw in the towel when that happens. Believe me, I have been through some of these challenges the last several years, and I have often been tempted to chunk my dreams in the trash bin.

Some people have money problems, lose a job, lose a loved one, suffer poor health, or whatever. These are obstacles that get between you and your dream. Some people get married and have kids, which causes them to reprioritize their dreams (ideally, the spouse and kids enter into the dream picture as new dreams and wishes).

Whatever the circumstances, the dreams – real, honest to goodness dreams – won’t go away. You may have to postpone them. You may have to think differently about negotiating all the other obligations (and dreams) in your life to attain what you want.

 
Fortunately, or unfortunately, my dreams are a part of who I am. They are meaningful and inspirational. I can’t get rid of them even if I try. It sometimes hurts to have them when it feels like life’s other challenges get in the way and prevent you from fulfilling your dreams.

This you must do

Take 10 minutes and think about what you wanted to be when you grew up. Think about what you now want to be when you grow up. Think also about what you want to have, do, experience. Be the little kid and dream the ideal life without the entanglement of caveats and disclaimers. Meanwhile mediate on what Tom Robbins, one of my favorite authors, says: “It’s never too late to have a happy childhood.”

Or, take the approach that Seven Habits of Highly Effective People guru Stephen Covey would suggest, which is: begin with the end in mind. In other words, if you can pretend that you are now at the end of your life looking back over your personal history, what do you wish you would have experienced, accomplished, enjoyed? How do you want to be remembered?  In other words, if you had to live your life over again, what would you do differently? Write it down. Mediate on the list. What has happened between then and now? What can happen between now and forever? What’s stopping you?

 Oh, and try to shove a marathon or two in that list.

I confess, when I was growing up – and by “growing up” I mean from childhood up until last week – my list included the following:

• Veterinarian
• Pilot
• Architect
• Artist
• Astronomer
• Writer
• House on the beach
• House in the mountains
• Indiana Jones

Again, these were the dreams of a child, and they reflected my reality at that moment in time. I am sure that at the time I expected 95% of the means by which these dreams were to be attained were based on my parents getting them for me.

And that’s the great things about dreams: they evolve based on your reality. A BIG THING of today quite literally could be your “yawn” of tomorrow. Better still, even BIGGER THINGS come along that strike up your band.

Obviously, very little of my list actually materialized. Did I fail? What happened to those childlike ambitions? When I was 12 years old my family visited the Nation’s Capital. Touring the monuments, the White House and the FBI filled me with amazement. I was so charged I couldn’t stand it. Then, on a tour of the U.S. Senate chamber floor, I walked in the place and among the desks of American legend where the history of our country was forged.

It was there at that time I got bit by the bug. That moment so transformed my life that it shaped everything about me since then. As much as Americans despise their government, I love it. I love it so. It is the living legacy that links us from present-day United States directly to the Continental Congress.

Because of “Potomac Fever,” my life’s other desires seemed to diminish. I was less interested in becoming architect, artist, astronomer, and so on. Still, I maintain amateur biologist’s interest in flora and fauna, a working man’s pursuit of stars and planets, and I love love love to write. Despite your opinion of my skills to the contrary, I thrive on writing and will do so forever.

So you see, I never gave up on that youngster’s deep thoughts of chasing down the possible. I discovered what was truly important to me and chased it down. And one day, I promise you, I will become Indiana’s distant, less handsome cousin, Louisiana Jones.

 More importantly, I dream now all the time. I think BIG THING thoughts constantly. That’s why running for me is such a personal enjoyment. Others choose to plug their ears with headphone; I like to think. The time spent on the road is as therapeutic as it is inspirational because it allows me the special “me time” where I visit the child and imagine all the wonderful things ahead in my unfolding happy childhood.

OK, time for a goofy but very meaningful exercise

When I began seeing things differently, it was almost as with a brand new pair of eyes, the world appeared to me as a new frontier. This slow learning process took quite some time. It did not occur overnight, but what was important to me was that the process led me to one conclusion: Life is beautiful, and you can make into whatever you want.

During the metamorphosis, I resolved to be happy, to experience new things, to be ambitious with my dreams and to make them happen or die trying.

Now, before you accuse me of infomercial Don Quixotism, let me propose that we all of us humans want meaning and purpose in life, be it in the form of religion, happiness, vocation, family, experiences, money, possession, relationships, influence… you name it. If you don’t crave fulfillment, I submit that you are where I was those years ago with no faith, hope or love. Please read on, this book is for you. If you do have the faith, hope and love, and even know what you want in life, read on. This book is for you too. You know what you want, allow me to help you get it.

Our dreams can come to us at the weirdest times: moments of inspiration, moments of anxiety, moments of boredom, and moments of desperation.

Neil Armstrong bouncing on the moon might inspire some to become an astronaut. An imminent foreclosure on the family’s home might motivate some to seek greater wealth and security. Gazing blithely out the office window might lead some to a new career choice. Vagabond shoes and small town blues might press the wanderer to seek a new life.

However the process, whatever the dream, the aspirations in our lives appear to us frequently and with little prompting.  Recognize, if you will, that these hopes and dreams are our heart’s unvarnished aspirations. They are what we long for.

In fact, this is a great place, right at the beginning, to engage in a quick, easy exercise that will take 10 minutes.

When you were a child, what did you want to be when you grew up? A doctor? A lawyer? A police officer? A fire fighter? A veterinarian? The Crocodile Hunter? An “army man?” A ballerina? A lobbyist for a Fortune 500 chemical company (ahem! But I digress)? Did you want to live in a certain place? Did you want money? Did you want to own the Pittsburgh Steelers or be an Olympic gymnast?

As a child you perhaps were awestruck by certain role models in your life that bedazzled you with their authority or the halo of their aura… or even simply their uniform. It was easy for you then to say, “I want to be that.” More importantly, you, like most kids, simply declared, “That’s what I am going to be when I grow up.”

And it was as simple as that. More importantly, children are unencumbered with self-doubt and limitations.

 

In the meantime, between then and now, life happened and most likely steered you off course. Your grades might not have been exemplary. You might have endured a career ending sports injury or were professionally knocked out by a financial set back.

Certainly, there may have been many life-changing circumstances that have influenced the path you have journeyed. Perhaps the less-than-awesome entry-level job out of college accidentally turned into a less-than-inspiring career. And of course you may have bound yourself to a relationship (or relationships) that took you places you never dreamed about (including hell). Chances are, you are not exactly where you wanted to be when you were 7 years old.

Now, I don’t expect everybody to still carry the torch for a stable of ponies and unicorns or for comic book super powers (well, I sometimes do). And of course, your dreams might have changed anyway. When you turned 8 years old, you decided to be a professional cheerleader or racecar driver. When you turned 15, perhaps you determined that the slacker life was for you, and by college you frankly became whatever your grades and a new employer allowed you to become.

I’ll admit that the dreams and ambitions of a child are more likely to be superficial than practical. After all, said child hasn’t sat through a job interview or sat for the bar exam. Said child hasn’t gotten married and begat his or her progeny. Said child did not have credit card debt or a mortgage or rent.

Still, a child’s dream is an unvarnished, uncomplicated, heart-pounding, pupil-dilating vision of excitement.

 

But I contend, “So What?!” The dreams of that child were honest, simple and from the heart. They were unburdened by caveats like, “When I finish my MBA…,” or “After I make so much money…,” or disclaimers like “I can’t do that anymore…” or “That’s nonsense at this point in my life.”

Why can’t you visit that child right now and channel his or her imagination? What stops you from gazing up into the stars right now (assuming it is night) and telling yourself, “I want to be X”? “I want to have Y.” “I want to do Z.”

This seems goofy, does it not? Why? Why should such an “impractical” exercise that costs you nothing be any goofier than living a life unfulfilled?

Could I be the only person blogging about Nutella today?

Epiphany and Nutella

I was the cynic who nurtured this psychology for many years until I realized one day after years of unhappiness and emptiness that I was living for nothing. Intellectual pursuits had crowded out my spirituality and inner being; thus, I believed in nothing. Unpleasant relationships in my life had destroyed much of my faith in people; thus, I believed in no one. And total disrespect and low regard for myself had diminished my self-esteem; thus, I did not believe in myself.

Aside from family, there was no inspiration in life, no fulfillment. I was not living, as Oscar Wilde would put it, but merely existing. I was, as Henry David Thoreau would describe, living in quiet desperation.

Yet, in a brief, enlightening period of my life dappled with a random pattern of minor epiphanies, I was eventually struck at once with a moment of clarity that revealed to me how wrong I had been. My reality had been so terribly distorted that I could not see the excitement and bounty that life offers.

And let me be clear: “Epiphany” is a loaded word. Epiphanies are major events in people’s lives that cause irrevocable changes. They are so significant that, really, there is usually no more than one in a person’s life, if any.

How many times do you or your friends talk about the great epiphanies you’ve experienced in life? Have you ever been at cocktail party talking to a friend about what you had for dinner, the movie you saw last night, and, oh, the major epiphany that struck you down, raised you up and changed your life, and would you please pass the olives?

True, we often overstate the word, just like one might overstate by saying, “Oh, I could just kill you,” or “I am so in love with Nutella.”

We might use the word after switching from Coke to Pepsi by describing the experience as an “epiphany,” but rarely if ever do we describe to our friends, family and acquaintances such “Road to Damascus” life changing epiphanies.

So I am not intentionally trivializing the word by describing a series of meaningful events in my life as “minor epiphanies.” Each of these occasions were in and of themselves life-altering moments, but it took the whole collection of them to culminate into my transformation (another loaded word, but I am becoming weary parsing my rhetoric). So, yeah, they were epiphanies.

I left agnosticism for faith. I learned that happiness is a choice. I learned that anything is possible. I learned to dream the Big Things. I learned to do Big Things. Etc., etc. It all happened gradually, but it happened.

Almost as with a brand new pair of eyes, the world appeared to me as a new frontier. This slow learning process took quite some time. It did not occur overnight, but what was important to me was that the process led me to one conclusion: Life is beautiful, and you can make into whatever you want.

Tree up!

No running today. All day decorating. For a 9' tree it looks small in pictures. Kids are going crazy. Happy Thanksgiving, Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays!

As much I hate to say it, you gotta follow your dreams and dream big. Seriously.

The first step to changing your life is as simple as it is ambitious. Dream BIG! Throughout this blogI will remind you that the BIG THING represents the biggest, most eye-popping dream your noggin can muster. And of course, in this book the BIG THING specifically means 26.2 miles.

In general it means diving deep into your imagination to discover what really turns you on. It means unshackling any inhibitions or nay-saying that prevent you from being as creative as you can be – as you want to be – when it comes to seeking, finding and fulfilling your beautiful life.

It means channeling childlike wonder and believing – no, expecting – that anything is possible, including that which is seemingly impossible.

For much of my life I had distrusted those who would proclaim that anything is possible and who would encourage us to dream impossible dreams. I was skeptical of these lovable idiots and their Don Quixote smiles and dimpled cheeks. Perhaps I surmised their world as too simplistic, too infomercial. Perhaps I was merely blinded by the bright sunshine reflecting off their toothy grins.

To me, their claims and motivational speeches were incredible. The most conspicuous“positive thinkers” are those who appear on late night television shows preying on the desperate and hawking their DVDs and books, or those who appear at the local Holiday Inn Express pitching their $500-a-ticket seminars. I am incredulous to their emotional, breathless pleas to follow their examples to chase after your dreams.

So the curmudgeon in me asks, what could be more hollow than their pipe dreams? What could be a bigger waste of time than chasing down hopes that have no realistic chance of coming true? And why get worked up over something that will never happen?

I may blog about running, but LSU just scored and took a 21-14 lead over Ark. Geaux Tigers!!!

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14 miles! Why, after 6 marathons was I so anxious about running a simple 14 mi training run?

Is it because my training regimen is so shoddy -- running every other day... 3 mi here... 6 mi there? Well, whatever, I nailed 14 today by running off all my Thanksgiving roast beast. Today I'll ruin it all by celebrating the 2nd of 3 LSU national championships this season (1st Alabama, 2nd Arkansas, 3rd BCS) then I'll return to my running angst until I complete 17 miles.

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Wear Sunscreen

Another powerful admonition from mid-1990s Internet trolling emerged in the form of a commencement addressed allegedly delivered by American literary icon Kurt Vonnegut to the MIT class of 1997. This advice – actually written by Chicago Tribune columnist Mary Schmich – reminds us of the simplicity of life’s happiness.

Ladies and gentlemen of the class of '97:

 Wear sunscreen.

 If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long-term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now.

 Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh, never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they've faded. But trust me, in 20 years, you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked. You are not as fat as you imagine.

 Don't worry about the future. Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blindside you at 4 pm on some idle Tuesday.

 Do one thing every day that scares you.

 Sing.

 Don't be reckless with other people's hearts. Don't put up with people who are reckless with yours.

 Floss.

 Don't waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind. The race is long and, in the end, it's only with yourself.

 Remember compliments you receive. Forget the insults. If you succeed in doing this, tell me how.

 Keep your old love letters. Throw away your old bank statements.

 Stretch.

 Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives. Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don't.

 Get plenty of calcium. Be kind to your knees. You'll miss them when they're gone.

 Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll divorce at 40, maybe you'll dance the funky chicken on your 75^th wedding anniversary. Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much, or berate yourself either. Your choices are half chance. So are everybody else's.

 Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it or of what other people think of it. It's the greatest instrument you'll ever own.

 Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but your living room.

 Read the directions, even if you don't follow them.

 Do not read beauty magazines. They will only make you feel ugly.

 Get to know your parents. You never know when they'll be gone for good. Be nice to your siblings. They're your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.

 Understand that friends come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were young.

 Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard. Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.

 Travel.

 Accept certain inalienable truths: Prices will rise. Politicians will philander. You, too, will get old. And when you do, you'll fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable, politicians were noble, and children respected their elders.

 Respect your elders.

 Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund. Maybe you'll have a wealthy spouse. But you never know when either one might run out.

 Don't mess too much with your hair or by the time you're 40 it will look 85.

 Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it's worth.

But trust me on the sunscreen."

Author: Mary Schmich (USA)
First published: July 1, 1997
Copyright: Herald Tribune

Be the Happiness You Seek

You can start being a happier person now by,

·         Decide to be happy. Make an honest-to-goodness real decision. Commit yourself. What do you have to lose? And make your decision now. Why put it off?

·         Create a world of happiness around you. This is so easy. What makes you happy? Whatever it is get more!

·         Be the happiness you seek.

I admit it. Creating an environment of happiness is sooooo passive-aggressive. And isn’t it simpleminded to assume that “if you build it, the happiness will come.” Well, no. I strongly disagree. Yes, this is a passive-aggressive approach, but it works.

On the other hand, another excellent way to cause happiness in your life is to take action. Many people find fulfillment and purpose in certain actions. Such actions inspire contentedness, or in the context of this passage, happiness.

Small acts of kindness, charitable work, reading to children, cleaning up your neighborhood, donating blood, donating money, cooking a meal for a sick friend, giving me a lift home from the bar… these are all gratifying, deliberate acts we can take that stimulate our desire for purpose and fulfillment. Best of all, the pleasant feelings generated by these acts occur during the act and long afterward.

And of course, do something for yourself: Get exercise, eat right, learn something new, read books, clean your toenails. The satisfaction of doing something good for you is its own reward, but in some cases (like exercise) the benefits are long-lasting.

Everyday is Thanksgiving

Always be thankful. Go ahead. Count your blessings.

Generally speaking, most humans are typically thankful for the things in life they value. Valuable things, I believe it is safe to assume, bring us some degree of joy. By regularly giving thanks to God – or simply by counting your blessings for you heathens out there – you are basically taking inventory of your valuables and expressing their importance to you.

Thanksgiving is, I believe, an important act that will remind you of the purpose and value of your life, and by association, will cause you happiness.

Problems running 14 miles

I wanted to run 14 miles Sunday. Guests in town. Couldn't do it. Ran 6 instead. Wanted to run it again today. Had early work meeting. Couldn't even run. Want to try tomorrow but busy work day. When the hell can I do it? Looks like I might run Wednesday, but what a day that will be. Getting the yard, house and food ready for T'giving guests. I feel like I'm sor far behind on training. And to top it all off, I'm adding to my anxiety by watching the totally annoying cat fights of "Real Housewives of Beverly Hills" with my wife. Did I just admit that?

Create a Happy Spa." The sound of that is so awful, but...

That is why it is important for these people, and any person, to create their own stimuli. Arguably, we all gain our happiness based on the environment and stimuli that affect us each day. So, if that’s the case, we can choose to be happy by controlling the environment and stimuli. In other words, give yourself something to react to.

What causes you to be happy? Jokes? Family? Meadows? Sports? Whatever it is, you know what it is. Find a way to be around these people, places, activities, things as often as possible.

I don’t care too much for massages and spa treatments – my wife loves them – but I have to admit that the spa is an environment carefully designed to nurture relaxation and comfort. If you have been to a spa, you know what I’m describing: the music, the smells, the lighting, the comfy robes and chaise lounges, the delicious finger sandwiches and exotic teas, and even the temperature. Of course, there is the actual massage or facial or whatever voodoo they do to you in there. But the point is this: the spa is a deliberately designed environment engineered for your comfort. The spa has gone out of its way to immerse you in relaxation.

Should it be so different with happiness? Can’t we go out of our own ways to ensure that we are surrounded by people, places, activities and things that bring us joy? Because you already know what makes you happy, you can make your world a “happy spa” (yes, I poked my dimples when I typed that) just as simple as that.

There is no elaborate architecture to creating an environment around you that cultivates joy. Here is how I do it: I like music, singing poorly, cooking, time with my kids, time with my wife, running, traveling, adventure, reading, eating, drinking wine, drinking scotch (I like this a little too much), admiring beauty in nature, art, and so on and so on.

The point is not to share with you my turn ons but to point out that I am cognizant of the stimuli that improve my mood and generally preserve my contentedness. Equally important, these items are my refuge for when I am blue, red, green, yellow, and any other color of disquieting emotion.

These “happy items” are like devices I can use to elevate my mood. As I say, happiness is a choice that only I can control. If I choose to be happy, or if I need to be happy, I seek these devices like they are medication and relish them.

“You mean: find a ‘happy place’?” you say.

“Ugh.” I reply. “Yes, smart ass, find a ‘happy place.’ I hate that term, but that is essentially what I am suggesting.”

So as I was saying, here is how I do it: At work there are many frames of my wife, kids, parents, favorite dog, friends and travel photos. They are totems representing happy times, places and people. Though I am easily distracted, I will sometimes play music. I always play music in the car and sing until most motorists around me are embarrassed. I try to find time to run and read and cook, etc.

You see, I know what things make me happy and I strive to populate my world with them. They become the wallpaper of my life.

Alas! You say. There remain those a-holes in the world who conspire to do me harm, bring me down, and cut in front of me in traffic.

True.

There is no avoiding this. For as long as the sun shines and gravity pulls, jerks will populate this planet until the dinosaurs return. There is no changing this fact. There is no controlling it either.

The only person you can change and control is the one currently occupying your skin (unless you are a Siamese twin. I don’t know what to say to you other than “thanks for buying this book”). Just like happiness is a choice, so too is anger. And because we humans we react to stimuli, we can condition how we react to the negative ones.

Again, I must confess: I’m still working on this. Some people – and their middle fingers – are better engineered to allow frustration and anger to roll off their backs. I tend to try it on for size and wear it around the house before I clear my head and shrug it all off.

Still, when I find that the “world” is bringing me down, I have the choice to be happy, or at the very least, choose to deny my anger the power to consume me. This takes practice, but it is a choice. And the choice is yours.

Running tip: red wine is not a sports drink.

I didn't really tear it up last night, but the lasting impact of red wine on the morning run is striking. Marathon training during LSU football season is harder than running a marathon.

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