Tag Archives: Go Farther

Another day of rain: Ground Control to Major Tom

Three and a half seconds from walking out the door – “I’m not wearing these socks. They’re too small!” Dude, WTF.

Rain boots and puddlesIt’s another day of rain. I yanked my hamstring on Wednesday and now I can’t run. My calves are sore. My shoulders are stiff. The power went out. The dishes aren’t done. We’re out of clean towels. I need a haircut. The music in the coffee shop is too loud.

The email to a new client went unanswered, even though I know he opened it. I track these things. I have seven unfinished projects at work and I can’t get that video I’m recording to come out just right.

But… I have my new rubber boots and a raincoat. I needed the rest anyway. I’ll exercise this afternoon in my garage. The dishes and towels will eventually get done. They always do.

I just heard The Beatles, The Doors and David Bowie (“Ground Control to Major Tom..”). “Piano Man” is playing right now. The music doesn’t seem so loud now.

I’ll finish those projects today, and what doesn’t get done didn’t need finishing right now anyway. The client will get back to me. There are more coming anyway.

Right now, a 16-year-old girl is waiting on her lab test results. An alcoholic is cracking open his third Budweiser, while his wife makes eggs and packs the kids’ lunch, hoping she’s not late for work this morning. Man, she’s tired after working the late shift at her night job, but it’s the only way to make the rent.

The homeless guy downtown is wet and soaked, cold and hungry. He wishes he had rent to make.

Everyone moment can’t be wonderful, and they aren’t. I’m supposed to be present, and that’s hard. Really, really hard. Maybe that’s why the present is so important. In the moments that suck, we need to accept that the suckiness could be much worse.

And the cat’s in the cradle and the silver spoon
Little boy blue and the man in the moon
“When you coming home, dad?” “I don’t know when
But we’ll get together then
You know we’ll have a good time then.”

All in one sip of coffee this morning

A storm blew out the power in our neighborhood last night and blew up my evening routine that includes grinding coffee beans and prepping my Bialetti coffee pot for the next day. The power came on sometime during the night, but the damage was done and I was regulated to a Starbucks Via packet this morning.

coffee from top and above view on wood background with empty space in vintage

The water boiled, I poured in the packet and took a sip. That sip brought me back to 2014 in Dallas, TX.

It was then I was working at Blend Labs, spending week after week in Dallas (Lewisville actually…) configuring software and running the implementation for our first lending client. Over one stretch, I traveled to Lewisville eight out of nine weeks – on the Monday 5:30am American flight from SMF to DFW and back home again on a Wednesday or Thursday night flight, and occasionally on Friday.

I squeezed in 30-minute workouts in the shoebox hotel gym with its three treadmills and rack of dumbbells, doing rehab exercises from knee surgery, followed by late nights logging bugs and testing configuration changes as the engineers back in San Francisco pushed code every hour. I couldn’t even go for a run because of my knee.

At some point close to midnight, I’d call it a day and wake up again at 5 or 6am to start the next day – chewing through Silly Putty hard-boiled eggs and cardboard bacon, and scrounging for an apple, a banana or anything resembling fresh fruit.

And of course, the hotel coffee. Oh yes… That’s where the Starbucks Via came in. I’d buy a 12-pack of those and travel with them, at least 3-4 in my bag at all times. Every morning, I’d add a packet to a cup of the hotel “coffee” so it might remotely resemble real coffee. Then out of the lobby, trying to remember what color my rental car was this trip and heading back to the client site for ten hours in a brown cubicle and fluorescent lights.

Meanwhile during my Lewisville time warp, Lena was back home, waking up every morning to take Benjamin to day care, work on her dissertation, pick him up, make dinner and get him to bed so that she could get in a few hours before he woke up for his night feeding, then to start it all over again the next morning.

Even during weeks I wasn’t on the road, I commuted to San Francisco three days a week, catching the 4:45am Amtrak and arriving home on the 7:07pm. On Friday nights, we’d meet out for dinner, pretending to catch up on time lost that week.

I remember the first time my son was sick, really sick. I saw a series of texts and missed calls from Lena just as I was walking into a BW3 Wild Wings to meet my team for dinner. A croupy cough and breathing troubles led to a trip to the ER. After a call to American, I was stuck in Dallas – no more flights home that night. So there I was, in Lewisville, Texas, eating a bad salad and bland chicken wings, feeling helpless.

By Christmas 2014, I decided that was enough – the travel, the late nights staring at my computer screen, missing time at home. I needed to make a change. By May 2015, I began working with Byron Davis as a business coach. He helped me structure my thinking around the business and life I wanted to have.

By August, I joined a mastermind group called BlackBelt and I put in my notice to Blend that it was time for me to spend more time at home.

Lena finished her PhD at the end of September and my first day as a full-time business operator was October 1, 2015. I always joked with her that I would retire as soon as she finished, and I did. I retired from working for other people. I retired from absence.

Now, I’m home most mornings to make breakfast and take my son to school. I do the dishes at night and go to bed by 9pm. I’m a regular at the local coffee shop. I make time to train during the day and I’ve knocked out a 50-mile ultra marathon, a swim across Lake Tahoe and Uberman in the past 15 months. I write every morning. I have awesome clients.

I have problems and challenges just like everyone, but they’re my problems in my company. Mornings are almost always a battle – getting Benjamin to eat, dress, and agree to part ways for the day at school drop-off. But, I’m here. Every day. I’m present.

This is my path of happiness. This is my life of freedom.

All in one sip of coffee this morning.

I’m sure glad for that storm last night.

I registered for a 100. Why? #gofarther

Alas, tis true… I’m registered for my first 100-mile ultra marathon – The Badger Mountain 100 in Richland, WA. No, I don’t know why. Well… not entirely….

It’s event that will take 24 hours or more (hopefully less…) to complete. Ironman races take half that time, and even with Uberman where I was out there for multiple days, I had the chance to rest overnight before starting the next leg of the journey. The 24 hours of persistent movement. It’s just something I want to experience.

During Uberman, I watched the sun rise and set in the same day twice in three days – first over the Pacific Ocean then in the Mojave Desert. The experience brought a calm about the endeavor – that I travelled not across a distance, but through the day.

The day of this 100-miler, the sun will rise at 6:52am on race day and set at 7:16pm that evening. I’ll watch the sun begin the day just before we toe the line, then I’ll run all day, and if I’m on pace, I’ll watch it set right around the midway point. Then I’ll go all night and cross the finish line at sunrise on Saturday.

There’s something wildly intriguing about this.

screenshot-2017-01-18-09-43-18

But seriously… why do a 100?

Even before completing my a 50-mile ultra in December 2015, I’ve long had the thought that I wanted to give a 100-miler a shot, so I am.

Three Ironman finishes are pretty satisfying and I’m happily done with those. It’s overwhelming to look over the bike transition area in the early morning hours – 3000 sparkling bikes lit up at 5:00am by flood lights, racked and awaiting the return of their owners, one-by-one, to enter the hamster wheel bike and run courses. The crowds, the congestion, the constant stress about transitions, the 30 pieces of gear – wetsuits, Body Glide, bike pumps, helmets… The cowbells. The music. There was a time all of this was magical for me. And even more, the training is more than I’m willing to bear. That’s why my end to Uberman was so emotional for me. I knew that was it. I was done.

I knocked out three huge swims since 2015 – Alcatraz (2.5 miles), a Tahoe crossing (11 miles) and the Catalina Channel (23.74 miles). I feel pretty damn good about that part of my endurance event portfolio, and I’ve got absolutely no desire to get back in the water. I was at the gym last month to cancel my membership and figured I’d fit in a quick workout. As I walked past the pool to the locker room, I watched a lap swimmer hit the wall and flip back for the next 25 yard length. Then I smelled the chlorine. I thought I was going to vomit. Yep, I think I’m good with swimming for now. (Another good reason to skip Ironman races…)

Cycling has never been my favorite. I like going all out on a flat. I like ascending a big hill even if I climb like an anvil. I like the shorter rides where I’m pushing out intervals and sucking hard for air, but my back always aches by the third hour of a long ride. The best part of a 50, 70, or 90-mile ride is when I hop out of the saddle knowing that I’m done for the day.

I’ve done a few century rides. They’ve taken me to places like Palm Desert, Sonoma and along the Pacific Coast Highway. I’ve biked the Sutter Buttes. While I see the camaraderie in big groups, I’m usually trying to separate from a pace group that seems to be bothering me. Doing the “Death Ride” isn’t on my bucket list. I’d rather Everest if I’m going to put myself through that.

So what’s left?

Running, with all it’s simplicity – lacing up my shoes and heading out for a run. It’s my default. Running is what I couldn’t do before or after knee surgery, and for a time, it’s what I thought would never return to me. It’s what I do when I need to de-stress – I can always run a lap or two around the neighborhood any time of day or night. I can walk out my front door at 5am, turn off my headlamp and run in total darkness along the olive grove with the stars. I can run down the middle of the road because it’s too early for cars. I can stop to watch the sky turn purple, then orange, then yellow with the sunrise over the Sierras.

On the trail, there’s total peace and quiet. No kicks to the face. No blinding white caps. No gear shifts clicking. No mid-pack Ironmanners passing me on mile 79 just because the want to reach the top of the roller first, only to pass them back on the downhill because I weigh more or have a better bike.*

Sure, there’s gear, electronics and nutrition. It’s just that running is the most basic of our human movements – using our legs to move from one place to the next.

During my Uberman training, I spoke with Max Wunderle. Max was the second-youngest person to ever swim around Manhattan Island (28.5 miles at the age of 17). In our conversation, Max asked me why I was doing Uberman, and I couldn’t answer the question. (Heck, I’m still not sure why and it’s been three months since I finished.)

Max told me this:

“You’re doing it because you don’t know if you can.”

Yep, that’s probably right. 100 miles is a long, long way. 24 hours is a long time to be be moving. I might get bored. might get injured. It’s hard damn work just getting to the starting line. It’s just something I need to do, to prove to myself that I’m willing to start… willing to try… willing to see if I can.

Go Farther.

* I’ve had phenomenal experiences at my Ironman races, and I wish EVERYONE well that makes an Ironman effort. I know exactly what it takes to get there –training, family, schedule. It’s just not my thing anymore…

Take Action: Do something, anything. Please, just start. #gofarther

I laid in bed this morning, vacillating between conscious states for nearly 40 minutes before I pulled myself out from under the warm blankets. I was nearly ten minutes into my Morning Pages when I realized I turned on the wrong burner to make coffee. I told myself I was tired and that I deserved more sleep.

Then I reminded myself why I get up this early – to do my thing, to get going, to start. I made a commitment to myself to write every morning. This day mustn’t be different.  I had no idea what I’d write about, I just knew I needed to start.

For a Commitment to be real, you need both Decision and Action. A Decision without Action is just a wish. Lots of people have wishes. Action without Decision, and pretty quickly you’re left without a reason. You can only push yourself so long before you lose motivation. Decision is the “what” and the “why.” Action is the “how” and “now.”

Commitment is why I registered for my first 100-mile ultra. I’ve been training every week since Uberman, putting in miles and workouts but without a clear reason or race to keep going. No Commitment made it easier to eat pizza instead of salad on Friday nights. No Commitment made it easy to go a little lighter or skip stretching at night.

But the thing is, taking Action all the while – training even without a Commitment – got me to a point of Decision. Action precipitated the Decision. That’s why I say – do something, anything. Just start. Action got me to ask myself why I was doing this. And once committed, my actions improved even more – 15-milers instead of 9-milers and track repeats instead of easy five-milers.

I still have to play mind games to get going and to keep going.  It’s on the toughest days and times that Action is the most important – days when you feel what Steven Pressfield calls “The Resistance.”  The toughest days show you how your body and mind respond. Action is simply putting your mind and body in motion – it’s putting yourself to work for your Self. Even if you have to back off what you planned, it’s that you took Action that matters. Just start.

Write the first sentence. Do ten pushups. Walk the first mile. Pick up the phone. Make the first call.

Do something, anything, instead of nothing and later regretting that you never took a single step. Just get moving and life will show from there. Your mind will see the opportunity you’re presenting to yourself and construct a story for that day, that project or that workout. Even if you don’t have it that day, at least you started and kept to your commitment.

Yesterday, I didn’t have it. After four rounds of the “easy” workout I planned, I was lying on my back, breathless on the floor, staring at the garage ceiling wondering what was wrong with me. I wasn’t even sweating and I was completely spent. I’ve done ten rounds of this workout in the past. I laid there for a while, got up, did one more round and called it a day – half of what I planned. It was better than nothing and that one last round gave me some measure of gratification that I pushed past where I thought I was done.

The plan isn’t really that important anyway. A friend recently shared a Churchill quote with me – “Plans are of little importance, but planning is essential.” Steve Blank famously said “No plan survives first contact with the customer.

I have lots of plans, lots of ideas. Most of them are probably lousy anyway which is why I throw them away. The plan is just a decision. From there, it’s the Action that matters.

Do something, anything. Please, just start.

Go Farther.

Put Your Self First #gofarther

I failed this morning. I knew last night what I was going to write about. I devoted part of my Morning Pages to it just so I’d be primed and ready to go. Yet, before I cracked open my laptop, I put others first instead of my Self.

I peeked at my email only to find out that a new client scheduled to start today backed out and another prospect decided to work with a pro-bono consultant instead of paying me.

The thing is, from a business standpoint, I don’t even care about the losing these guys. My business is strong and clients like this can end up being difficult anyway. Trust me, I want to help them and know that I can, and I know they’re in for a tough road ahead without me. But, why the hell did I do that to my Self?

The morning is MY time – for Morning Pages, for meditation, for writing – and I put other people, people literally on the other side of the world, first instead my Self.

Dammit, Scott. Put your Self first.

Protect your Self because no one else will. They’ll take, punch, kick, push and slam your Self. They don’t even know they’re doing it (usually). They’re just out for themselves, unaware of their own Self.

Just because someone asks and just because you can, it doesn’t mean that you should.

“But they’re really expecting me to do this…”

God I hate that. Unless it’s a “HELL YEAH!,” it has to be a “no.” Friends included. Especially friends. If they’re really your friends, they’ll understand. Don’t worry. They’ll figure it out without you…

Be the CEO of your Self – make unpopular decisions. Unfollow Negative Nancy. Heck, skip Facebook altogether for a day. No one will miss you. Seriously. I know I won’t. Go into airplane mode and be present. The world will still be here when you come back.  I’d rather you read the last chapter of that novel than read one of my posts.

We’ve all had friends struggling with anxiety or stress or sadness. How many times is that anxiety, stress and sadness caused by someone else – someone they’ve let bully their Self? We tell our friend to say no. We say – “tell them to fuck off!” We advise them – “you should totally go to that yoga class!”

Then how many times do we ignore this advice for our own Self?

Saunter. Doodle. Sing.

Buy some persimmons, or blueberries, or beets, or bacon, or a burrito.

Talk a walk. Exercise. Breathe.

Make time. Sleep.

If you don’t put your Self first, you can’t be your best Self, and guess what? The world needs your best Self.

At breakfast this morning, my son, eating eggs with ketchup, wearing his blue Elsa dress, watching our science project concoction of baking soda and vinegar bubble in a bowl, asked questions that four-year-olds ask – “Why does Mowgli wear a grass skirt in Jungle Book?” and “Why do the good guys want to beat the bad guys in Star Wars?”

I gave him satisfactory answers, but those emails were festering – “Do those guys really think they can get the same help for free? What is wrong with them? What is wrong with me?” He didn’t get my best Self.

I’m nervous about hitting ‘publish’ right now. I’m worried about what others will think… how they will react… what they will say…

But this is my blog. This is my writing. This is my time. This is my Self.

And I choose to put my Self first.