So Long, 35

A selfie on my final 35 year old morning

As I sit here on the last night that I'm 35, I thought it would be appropriate and a bit nice to reflect on the past year of my life.  It was a year filled with lots of trials (mentally and physically), tremendous growth, and was overall a great year.  Some people look back on a year of their life and are thankful it's over.  Some wish it wouldn't end and are sad to see it go.  I can't feel either way about 35, not because it didn't have reasons to make me feel either way, but because feelings like that don't set me up for positivity and success.  No, I'm leaving 35 feeling invigorated, glad to have lived this particular year, and excited for how it's prepared me for the years still to come.

This year saw the toughest year of my professional career, with politics at work getting the best of me, and my having to make a tough call to leave a job I truly loved and saw myself in for the long haul.  As they say, the toughest decisions are often the best.  Sure enough, I am in a new role with a new company that I'm extremely excited about, with lots of opportunity in front of me, and the power to make things happen.  I miss my old job and colleagues, but also know what I missed wasn't what it was anymore, and am feeling blessed to be where I am now.

My first (but not last) half marathon

I took on a physical challenge I never expected to do with a half marathon the week after my 35th birthday.  I never used to run, and even when I picked it up, I didn't expect to do more than 5K or 10K races.  In fact, the 10K I did a few months before turning 35 was so tough and unenjoyable, I figured I wouldn't do anything but 5Ks again if I even raced at all.  Not only did a I do a half, but I beat the goal time I had set for myself, and would have definitely beat my dream time if I didn't have a damaged tendon and broken bone in my left foot.  I have another one two weeks from my 36th birthday, and am feeling much better about my preparedness and injury status.

Speaking of injuries, while I did spend many months dealing with the injuries I mentioned above (I didn't really run consistently after the half for eight months, and was in an air cast for a while), this year marked the first in a while where I didn't have or wasn't recovering from surgery.  I've had some operation or recovered from one basically without interruption since 2008.  Two knee surgeries, back surgery and double hernia surgery over four and a half years, with a bout of swine flu thrown in the mix for good measure.  While I certainly had some injuries to recover from, my body did what it was made to do and healed and grew stronger.  My mind did, as well, as I learned a lot about smart training, evening out inequities in the body, and taking time when you need it.  I also learned about how much capacity I have to do things and do more of them - even when my mind tells me otherwise (the half had a lot to do with that learning).

My second, toughest century ride

I took on another century ride, and it was intense and challenging.  But I did it.  I don't get to train with real climbs, and this ride had a few very real, very long, very steep ones, but I powered through and passed those ahead of me.  My left knee was a bit of a victim, but I know what to do to get it back on track, and it's progressing nicely (and oddly isn't a problem when I run at all, so my next half is still safe).

With newbodi.es, I had a great year.  I got to do some really valuable continuing education. I coached an awesome young lady to a fantastic weight loss, but more importantly a new 'whole health' life that will absolutely endure.  I got to meet Dean Karnazes.  I became a FitFluential ambassador.  I also launched my video podcast and YouTube channel, and recorded 31 episodes, including doing a couple of great interviews of people I respect a ton (thanks again to Dai Manuel and Alex Hutchison for joining me).

On the home front, my family continued to deal with my wife's illness, yet also benefit from the learnings and health consciousness we've gained as a result.  Despite the hardships of it, we're also better off in terms of the food and healthcare choices we make.  I know I would be hard pressed to be as fit as I am if the woman across the table from me was eating junk, so my health is clearly benefitting from what my wife is doing to manage hers.

We also saw our son start elementary school, which was exciting and sad at the same time.  He's amazing, and loves school so much.  As a parent, it's hard not to be filled with joy and pride to see him so happy and thriving.

So, I'm not writing off 35.  I'm not lamenting or mourning its passing.  I'm thankful for the year I've had.  I'm excited for the years I will have.  I owe both of those feelings to what I lived while being 35 and how I grew while being 35.  My wife said it brilliantly when I told her about this post.  She said, "I see any year as a gift, and they all taught me things."  So true.  Be whatever age you are, be grateful for how you lived it and for what will come after it, and enlighten.your.body.

Race & Place or Ride with Pride?

I just got back from a truly epic charity event out in San Francisco.  It's called the Canary Challenge, and the purpose is to raise money for the Canary Foundation at Stanford.  The Foundation is trying to develop a blood test for early detection of cancer.  The idea being that early detection means less extreme intervention and higher cure rates.  If you are familiar with the phrase 'canary in a coal mine', that's where their name came from.

Anyway, back to the subject of this post.  I do both races and charity events.  Some charity events are races (Susan G. Koman Race for the Cure, for example).  Most are not.  Charity cycling events are often called 'rides', while the Canary Challenge is called, well, a 'challenge'.  That's definitely due to the grueling nature of the course, which ascends 8,455 feet over 103 miles, including two climbs that last longer than 30 minutes (the second comes at mile 78, so you're just a bit tired at that point!), plus another in between them that's nearly as long (only you also have headwinds and it was raining a bit).

Anyway number 2, back to the subject of the post again.  So what am I talking about today?  I believe in the value of racing.  I also believe in the value of not racing.  What's that?  Hipocracy, you say?

Well, let's take the racing part first.  I have found that I am not pushing myself as much as I can when I run.  It's not to say I'm not tired at the end of a run, but my pacing is never what it is in a race.  When I did my first half marathon, I was injured, and my training runs were in the upper half of the 8-9 minute per mile range.  When I did the race, I was at 7'50" until mile 10 when the really steep hills hit, and I finished with an average of just over 8'.  My injuries were hurting a lot, but I was fine energy-wise and endurance-wise.  If I wasn't in pain, I would have easily been able to keep going for a while.  So, for me, getting into a race is a fantastic way to push yourself and learn more about your limits.  Was I going for a top 3 finish?  Was I trying to pass everyone?  No.  I was racing for my own goals and treated it as a personal event.  But I was being egged on by the 1,000 other runners around me, and definitely had little bouts of being more competitive and passing people when I felt the power to pick someone off. It feels great.  I also learned that I'm really good at running up hills relative to most other runners.  I never would have known that without doing this race.

I got a lot out of that race, and others I've done, mainly around what I'm actually capable of.  Setting successive PRs in 5Ks each time I do one feels great, and they're all times I never imagined whether as an overweight kid/teen, or as a fit 30-something father and husband.  Physically and competitively, it feels great.

But as great as racing is, I also see value in events that aren't races.  The Canary Challenge has a kinship across riders that made it amazing.  I was exhausted by it, and my left knee is still in bad shape from the long climbs (funny since my right knee was the problem going in, but that's been fine).  But I didn't care.  I loved it.  Really loved it.  I rode with some friends, though we weren't together too much. The time we rode together was great, and I made a point to meet up with them and visit for a bit at the aid stations, which brought an even tighter feel of community.  I started recognizing jerseys, and chatted some of the familiar ones up as we were grinding up the mountain together, or when stopped at an aid station.

Where did I place?  I have no idea - no one was tracking it.  How many riders were in my age group?  I dunno - a bunch, maybe?  Maybe not?  What was my final time and average speed?  I know both of those, but they don't matter.  What I got out of it was a grueling event that definitely worked my body, but also worked my mind and soul.

So, my point is hopefully clearer and less hypocritical-sounding.  Racing can be incredibly good for your development in whatever sport you do.  So can events that aren't races.  Do them both.  Don't lose sight of the value of either, and enlighten.your.body.

To Apple Watch or Not To Apple Watch

Apple Watch Sport Collection
Photo Courtesy of Apple

Before I get into this, I need to disclose that I am a huge Apple fan.  Not quite a fan boy, but not not a fan boy. And for those posts where people say I was compensated to share this or the product was provided for free - that's not the case here. It's kind of the way around.  Apple was compensated by me. Several times over. A lot. And then some more. Yeah, I have lots of Apple stuff. And I like it.

OK, that said, I'm torn about the Apple Watch. It's very cool and all that. No doubt. It does some really neat things. For sure. It's gorgeously designed. As with all Apple gear. Will I buy it? Not so sure.

I expected to see the thing and be like, "When can I preorder?" But I didn't feel that way.  I may still get one, but I'm not rushing into it, and wouldn't get it because of a clear need or use case (kind of how I felt about the iPad).  The reason for me is that the fitness tracking part of it doesn't really work for my needs.

Nike FuelBand SE

I have a Nike+ FuelBand (that I'm planning to stop wearing at the end of the month since I don't find it impacting my behavior anymore, and can't stand Nike's website given the molasses-based speed and constant issues/downtime). It tracks steps, calories, general activity, and provides awards and motivation, just like Apple intends to do with the Apple Watch. Nike has really stepped back from how involved and invested they were in the Nike+ ecosystem, with less investment in the ramification side. You used to get these little videos with a character called Fuelie, but they stopped doing that. Now they have all these random trophies that I don't fully understand the point of and seem to win far too easily (I win more than 1 a day, and don't know the difference between them, nor do I care). Their site is also painfully slow, down far too often for maintenance (that doesn't seem to be for any benefit in functionality), and parts of it just don't work (you have to tell the SE version of the FuelBand when you're in some sort of workout session and then go tag that session with the proper activity on their site, only the tagging page stopped loading about two weeks ago, and still isn't working. I can tag things from the iOS app, but it means syncing via USB (Bluetooth syncing stopped working on my FuelBand for some reason), and then going to the phone to tag).  I would rather an activity tracker be smart enough to know that I'm being active, and not need me to tell it as much.  Apple seems to have done this better as they claim the Watch knows if you're biking versus running.  But this will be something to watch for and judge after its released since it's all a bit unclear and untested now.

Garmin Forerunner 620

I have a fantastic running watch (Garmin Forerunner 620). I don't usually run with my phone, or at least I prefer not to. I won't hold it due to the impact on gait, and don't want to bring a bag or pouch just for my phone. I find arm bands uncomfortable, and I sweat a lot, so my phone invariably ends up wet - that can't be good for it in the long term.  But I need that GPS tracking that the Apple Watch can't do without a phone.  I'm a total data junky, and want everything recorded.  Without my phone, the Apple Watch can't track my run beyond simple step measurement.  I need pacing, and it can't really give me that.  I also get some awesome advanced metrics from my Garmin as I pair it with their FirstBeat-enabled heart strap, so I get cadence, ground contact time, vertical oscillation, training effect and VO2 Max data.  The Apple Watch can't do any of that (with or without a phone), and I have come to appreciate it.

There's talk about why Apple didn't put GPS in the Watch. It's likely due to price and package size for something that isn't a common need (even if you cycle or run daily outdoors  as I usually do but the majority of people likely don't (or do it in a gym on some machine), you still don't need it a lot of the time of the day). And GPS does drain batteries, but running watches don't keep it on unless you're in a run. And then you can just charge it when you get home - that's what I do, and I don't get mad at the watch or decry its battery life since I knowingly did something that is a power hog.

I think size, cost and battery considerations are part of the story, but I think it's also about making the phone more valuable to watch buyers and vice versa. Remember, the Apple Watch only works with the iPhone (and only models since the 5). Smart business decision, despite any annoyance it may cause. I'm just saying that including a GPS receiver in the Watch could actually fuel more sales for people like me.

So, would I buy a smart watch to take it off and wear a different smart watch for runs? That's the question. For me, I don't think I can answer that until the device is out, more of the features are known, and I think about what is missing that I'd really want before buying it. That's what happened with the iPad - I knew I needed a front facing camera to do video chats with my wife and son when I travelled for work, or it wouldn't be valuable enough for me to buy.  So I waited until they added that feature, and bought an iPad 2. For me, it could be a question of waiting for the Apple Watch 2. Or maybe the 2S. Or 2C.  Or 2 Plus. Or whatever. We'll just have to see.

But You Don't Have The Body of A...

I hear comments like this all the time, whether from someone about themself or about others.  "Oh, but I'm not built like a runner."  "You don't have a cyclist body."  "I'm too skinny to lift weights."

The thing is, if you do it, you are it.  You have the body for it.  For example, I have a bigger build than the stereotypical runner.  But I'm a runner (notice I didn't just say, "I run," but actually said, "I'm a runner.").  And I have a build.  Hence, I have the build of a runner.

Same for cycling.  I don't look like top cyclists.  Yet, I have a body, and I'm a cyclist.  A+B=C.

This isn't to say if you do X and have a body, then you have the typical/ideal/professional body type for it.  But does that need to matter?  I'm not trying to be a world class runner.  I'm just running because it's amazing - for my body, for my mind, for the example I set for my son, etc.  Do I need to have a body like Usain Bolt or Steve Prefontaine?  Does not having their body mean I'm not a runner, can't run, or shouldn't run?  Somehow, I ran to work this morning, doing 7.5 miles, and didn't burst into flames or anything.

I am big for a cyclist.  Not huge, but big.  I'm more muscular in my upper body, carry more mass in my legs, and generally weigh about 40-50 pounds more than the elites.  Yet somehow I did 50 miles the other day at just a hair under 20 mph.  Is that elite speed?  Naw.  Is it good?  Did I feel great?  Heck yeah.  Did I burst into flames then?  Nope.

Granted, the amount of sweating I'm doing may be helping to keep me from spontaneously combusting despite lacking the archetypical body for these activities, but I think it's more than the comments people make and the sentiments underlying them are what's flawed.  Not my body (or yours, or that guy running down the street).

So, don't look at yourself in the mirror and presume you can't ___ (fill in the blank).  Look yourself in the eye, and realize that you absolutely can. Go on. Get out there, create your potential, and enlighten.your.body.

Health Is Not a Mid Life Crisis

Today, I ran to work. I love doing that. I call running and cycling to work "CUYOP" - commute under your own power - read more in my blog post on it, and check the hashtag activity on Twitter). It's a great way to start the day because of how it can recenter your mind, give you a chance to think through a few things before the clutter of email, meetings, fires, etc get in the way. CUYOPing home is also great to clear out that bombardment before you are home with family so you can be a whole person for them.

But that's not what this post is about. It's about health and the idea that it's a mid-life crisis (by the way, if you haven't heard it, listen to Faith No More's song Midlife Crisis from their album Angel Dust). I spent today's CUYOP run thinking about this idea, and felt compelled to write out my thoughts a bit.  For me, I was an obese child and teenager who lost weight starting when I was 17.  While I was never obese again, I regained too much of it and too many unhealthy habits as I crested my 20s and passed into my early 30s.  When my wife became chronically ill, I looked at myself hard, and was very unhappy with what I had become again and what my son had as health role models in the two of us.  July 1st, 2011 marked my change.

Someone looking from the outside could say that this was some sort of mid-life crisis.  I was almost 33, so it might not have been quite at the mid-life mark, but then again, with several factors in how I was living, what I was eating, and how I was handling stress, it may well have been the mid-point of my life.  Putting that detail aside, I'm just past 3 years into this new way of living, and have no desire of turning back to my old ways. I've not tired of being healthy, and have the same drive and profound reasons behind choosing health that I did before. I got healthy for my son, for my wife, and for me. I wasn't happy, and wanted to be. My son needed a better example, and will continue to need that his entire life.  My wife needs a husband who can be there for her until the end of time - just as I vowed to be when we got married. Those aren't fleeting drivers, nor are they temporal, tied to being roughly half the age I'll be when I die.

Now, there are two more reasons why health isn't a mid-life crisis. First - and this is the MBA in me putting numbers first - is the math.  While you could feasibly argue that I was at the mid-point of my life given how things were going, you can't argue that anymore. That's point is behind me. It's not behind me beacuse I'm now over that mid-point. It's behind me because it's actually in front of me. I have complete confidence that my natural life expectancy (that is, my life expectancy without some catastropic event prematurely ending things for me) is far longer than it would be had I not made the shift. So, if I'm not at the mid-point of my life, then I can't be in the midst of a mid-life crisis.  I fully believe that I'm still pushing that end point out as my body does the amazing work it was built to do to care for and heal itself, righting many of the wrongs of earlier choices I had made. As evidence, during a recent physical for a new life insurance policy, my resting heart rate is now in the 40s. There's evidence that living things have a natural number, if you will, of total heart beats they can have in a lifetime, and the number is surprisingly similar across species. When you account for speed of heart rate, you see that fruit flies have about as many beats as humans, bears, fish, etc. So, by lowering my heart rate (and not going too low, of course), I have extended the amount of ticking my clock has left to do.

The second reason is that mid-life crises are usually fleeting. You buy a car you shouldn't buy to get in touch with your youth (though the car eventually is sold, traded or rots in the driveway). You quit your job (though you find another). You leave a relationship (but find another eventually). You go on some wild vacation (yet still return home).  See? Fleeting. Temporary. You 'return to sanity' after getting the crisis out of your system.  I'm over 3 years in, and have learned so many things about the choices I've made and the new choices I'm making that I can't go back. "Can't" is a bad word. How about "I don't want to go back." Or, "I couldn't sanely go back knowing what I know now." I don't want to eat GMO foods. I don't want to be over-exposed to pesticides. I don't want to eat processed foods and feel miserable. I don't want to sit around and do nothing active and feel tired, depressed and unhappy with my body. I don't want my back to hurt from muscle degeneration. I don't want my son to look at me and see me in anything but a positive, inspiring light, nor do I want him to look at me in a good light and follow my example when that example will result in health issues for him.

You could argue the impetus for such a change is a mid-life crisis. It wasn't for me, but I could see how it could be for some. What I would say is, let's ignore whether the impetus is fleeting, and find a lasting path of health. If it is fleeting, find one that endures (like being there for your children or loved ones - or yourself!), and stay on the path.

Like I say, people don't change, lives do. Change once, for the better, and then maintain. That's how you enlighten.your.body.

Laterz Haters

For those who don't follow me on Twitter, Facebook, Google+, Strava, Garmin Connect, DailyMile, MapMyFitness, Nike+, YouTube, Instagram, TrainerRoad, etc...wait, what was I saying? I lost track after building that list.  Oh, right, for those who don't follow me, I've been doing a month-long bike training program on my Wahoo KICKR through an amazing app called TrainerRoad.  The program is called The Sufferfest Build, and it's based on the insane training rides put together by Singapore-based The Sufferfest. They take footage and experience (incline, competitiveness) from actual races, superimpose intervals and technique training, and basically kick your butt.  The Sufferfest Build program TrainerRoad put together has six days of riding a week (you take Monday off), with alternating between intense rides and recovery/endurance rides, plus two long rides on the weekend (one very intense, one moderate but long) - see a map of the plan below.  I'm on week two, and already see the difference in my ability.  To call it tough is an understatement.  To call it fun and energizing is also an understatement.

A map of the plan. It is intense stuff mixed with recovery time, and a ton of fun. Image courtesy of TrainerRoad

So, when I finish my rides, I post them up to my various social media channels, including the fitness networks I'm part of. I also often will mention others, like the equipment makers for the stuff I'm using if I love it or have a particular comment about it. I've been posting about my Sufferfest Build experience on Twitter with mention of @WahooFitness, @TrainerRoad, and @TheSufferfest. The problem with that last one is that I was forgetting to include the 'the'. So, turns out, there's some other Twitter user who was getting notified of my activity.  Not only that, but they weren't too impressed, and felt the need to share that with me - see what they wrote:

@newbodi Try another sport.

— Sufferfest (@sufferfest) April 9, 2014

The workout they were writing about was a recovery ride, so my performance was nothing to write home about (though obviously I felt it was something to write all my followers about - but, hey, that's just what I do, and I suggest you do it, too). I had done 35 minutes of intervals on the elliptical that morning, and then did my first run of more than one mile in months (and likely my last for a few more months as my foot is still not ok) literally right before hopping on the trainer for 60 minutes of low intensity form practice (for those who know what this means, the FTP was about 50% of my current level, and I used the TrainerRoad Pettit course, as per the Build's plan).  So the effort, achievement (kJ, TSS, mileage, etc) was not great, nor should it have been.  My ride today will be mega, by the way.

So, yeah, if that meant to be a race performance, I should possibly go pickup another sport, but it wasn't meant to be anything but some time on my bike and trainer.

But let's analyze this for a moment.  By 'this', I mean the idea that I should change sports if I am not performing at elite levels. If I was making my living competing on my bike, sure. But I'm not. I'm keeping fit and enjoying the process on my bike. Why would I get off?  When I run races, I do ok, but I'm not a rock star and don't really stand to be a top finisher in the races I sign up for. Would I mind? Not at all - I'd be elated. Do I care? Not really - I'm not bothered by it at all. So why do I do it?  Why do so many people do these things if they won't win?

You see, the issue is all one of semantics. 'Win' doesn't have to mean coming in first. 'Win' can mean so much more, but it's defined only by the person doing the activity in question. No one else.

Elon Musk, founder of PayPal, Tesla and SpaceX, has this great quote in a 60 minutes piece done on him. He talked about how there was this high chance of failure with Tesla, and he didn't expect for it to succeed.  The interviewer why he'd try if he never thought they'd make it. Musk said the greatest things may not be the ones that succeed, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't try. He's speaking about achieving greatness and doing things for the overall betterment of the world (your world or the world more broadly). The point being, don't let the fear of failure stop you from going for it. And by extension, don't let someone else's definition of success deter you from trying.  Here's a quote of the conversation:

Elon Musk: Well, I didn't really think Tesla would be successful. I thought we would most likely fail. But I thought that we at least could address the false perception that people have that an electric car had to be ugly and slow and boring like a golf cart.

Scott Pelley: But you say you didn't expect the company to be successful? Then why try?

Elon Musk: If something's important enough you should try. Even if you -- the probable outcome is failure.

So, the message here is simple. Don't let someone else with their definition of the word 'win' influence you, your definition, or what you do. Chose what a win is to you - and that can be as simple as showing up for the race/finishing at all/getting on that bike 3 days this week/etc. Push yourself to win as you define winning, and as you do it, raise the bar for yourself to keep winning overall.  As I say in one of our podcast episodes, win your way to success, and enlighten.your.body.

Flawed Logic: "If I'm gonna die anyway, I might as well enjoy what I'm eating"

Tell me you haven't heard or thought this before:

If I'm going to die anyway, then I am going to eat whatever I want and enjoy the time I do have. Why would I give up XYZ and be miserable?

That, my friends, is called 'flawed logic'. It's one of the most common responses out there for eating healthy (along with "I don't have the time," "it's too expensive," and "I don't have the willpower."). Why is it flawed logic?  Simple, it ultimately presumes that the only enjoyment in life comes from food. So, if you give up your most loved foods, then your life will be miserable.

How would your significant other feel about that? Your siblings? Kids? Parents? Friends? Pets?

I don't blame those who say things like this. It's what our society programs us to think - food is not fuel to us, it's a source of enjoyment and pleasure. It tastes amazing and makes us feel good. We run (or maybe waddle) to it when we're sad or upset, just like the Golden Girls with their late night cheesecake sessions. So it's no wonder as a society we say things like this.

In reality is that food is ultimately just a fuel. Also, healthy eating can actually be tasty. And it can be done economically, both in terms of cost and time.

But the real reality is that our lives and the enjoyment we experience within them aren't just about food. We take joy from so many other things. Time with loved ones, great movies/shows/games/music/etc, vacations, our jobs (seriously, some people take real enjoyment from their work), time with our pets - and the list goes on.

Why do we think that giving up on some foods we like that literally are killing us somehow wipes out all enjoyment from our lives?

This question came to me after watching a great documentary called Fat, Sick & Nearly Dead by an Aussie named Joe Cross. It follows him over 60 days as he goes on a fresh juice-only diet, and educates you about what our food choices are doing to us, and what healthy living can do instead. It's a fantastic movie (and book), so I highly encourage you to watch it.  It's free for Amazon Prime members, and available on DVD and streaming from most services out there (Amazon, Netflix, etc), and there's also a book version (on Kindle, too). He suffers from an autoimmune disease that has him on several medications (including strong doses of steroids), and yet he's still suffering (and overweight and feeling miserable). He transforms himself, is able to come off his meds, and is happier and healthier. He enjoys his life in a way he didn't before. And he helps another man along the way with the same ailment and even worse health (who then intern helps others, too).

What Joe learns and teaches is that we need to look for all the other sources of joy in our lives beyond food, raise the value those have in our minds, and then make healthier choices to enhance our ability to take in those sources of enjoyment. What we find along the way is that we had a false notion of what our real happiness comes from or, more accurately, just how happy we thought we were.

Whether you want to be as extreme as Joe (and you can't help but feel like you want to be), the message is so clear and valid. Live healthier, get to a place of true enjoyment, and enlighten.your.body.

Podcast Episode 009 - enlighten.interview: Dai Manuel

The first interview from newbodi.es, we are honored to bring you the inspirational and motivational Dai Manuel, COO of Fitness Town and one of the top health and fitness bloggers in the world. Dai has a similar story to mine with a background as an overweight teen, then changing his life and working to change the lives of others.

If you enjoyed this video, subscribe on YouTube or get the podcast on iTunes and spread the word. It's one more tool I'm giving you to help you enlighten.your.body.

Podcast Episode 008 - clean14

enlighten.your.body by cleaning your life of the things that you shouldn't be putting in it. clean14 is a challenge we've started on facebook for people to find things they eat, drink or (worse) smoke, and take them out of their life. learn more and join the challenge at http://www.newbodi.es/clean14.

this video ties to a post I did on the clean14 challenge.

If you enjoyed this video, subscribe on YouTube or get the podcast on iTunes and spread the word. It's one more tool I'm giving you to help you enlighten.your.body.

Podcast Episode 006 - Q&A: how do I make sense of all the conflicting advice?

there are so many people and companies out there telling you to do something to lose weight - and plenty of others insisting you never do that. eat meat. don't eat any meat. drink lots of water. don't drink anything. live on fruit. don't eat fruit. we help you figure out how to process all this conflicting advice to find a path forward for you to enlighten.your.body.

If you enjoyed this video, subscribe on YouTube or get the podcast on iTunes and spread the word. It's one more tool I'm giving you to help you enlighten.your.body.

Podcast Episode 003 - I get bored at the gym, what should I do?

building from episode 2 on motivation, we dig into finding exercises you actually enjoy so you don't find yourself bored when working out or procrastinating to avoid something you don't enjoy.

this episode is tied to a blog post I did called "Q: how do I stick with it? (Part II)".

If you enjoyed this video, subscribe on YouTube or get the podcast on iTunes and spread the word. It's one more tool I'm giving you to help you enlighten.your.body.

R&R - Rewards & Rejuvenation

I was recently reading an issue of Bicycling magazine (the last free issue I got for buying my Trek, alas), and it had a great piece on 7 people (5 individuals and one couple) who lost weight on their bikes that used rewards as an incentive to stay in it and get even more of a rise from reaching their goals. This is something I've believed in, and seen work for several people around me. I want to take the idea one step beyond this and misuse the abbreviation R&R to get there. Instead of R&R standing for 'rest & relaxation', I want to take a more active interpretation, and call is 'rewards & rejuvenation'.

Be sure to see my YouTube videos on r&r (part 1 and part 2).

rewards
Rewards is what the magazine was talking about. The individuals in the story did something really nice for themselves when they reached their goals (most bought new bikes, but some went on a big 'ridecation' to a destination they always wanted to go, which is a great idea). In addition to giving yourself a big reward for hitting your ultimate goal, you should tie this into the idea I discuss in my 10 principles around setting goals, both near and far.  You can have your ultimate goal - say losing 50 pounds - but you should have a series of intermediate goals to keep you going along the way. You could have five 10 pound goals, for example. Or, if you're running, the example I always give is not thinking about the total goal distance, but pick a spot a bit out in the distance, like a street sign or building, run to it, and then pick another.  Ultimately, you get to the big goal, but you do it in manageable pieces rather than staring at this big, daunting goal that seems too far off and out of reach, which can discourage many people to the point of giving up.

So as you hit those mile post goals - whatever they may be - give yourself something to celebrate. One person in the article had road races as her intermediate goals, and she bought herself an official jersey at each one as her reward for finishing (for those who don't know, these can range from $75-200, so it's no small thing).  I love that idea.  She bought a new bike when she had completed the races and hit her goal weight.

A concern you may have is that this can cost a lot of money. True, but what are you doing today that costs you that also keeps you from your goals?  Is there a food or bad habit you need to give up to get there? Does that come with a price? As part of the clean14 challenge, I'm giving up coffee and soda. I can easily see what those two things cost me a week - at least $20 a week, or $1,000+ per year.  Wow.  One of the people in the article quit smoking, and set aside the money from cigarettes to buy a really nice bike when he made it to the end while buying some gear and equipment along the way as his interim rewards.  Brilliant.  As he put it, he was spending the same amount of money, but it was to save his life rather than end it this time.  Even more brilliant.

The one thing to be mindful of is not to use food as a reward. That reinforces the wrong habits. Pick something tied to what you're trying to achieve. A good friend bought himself a custom pair of NikeID shoes when he had run a milestone distance (he hated them, incidentally). So if you're trying to lose weight, don't reward yourself with a cheesecake, ok?

rejuvenation
This part is easy to confuse with rewards, but that just depends on what you choose.  Along the path to reaching our goals and changing our lives, we can get tired. We can get injured. We can get discouraged. Be mindful of this, and find little ways to reset yourself when you need it. A fresh hair cut, a spa day, a weekend away, a ball game or any other way to stop, reset, have fun and release a bit. I'm particularly fond of hair changes as they can make you feel new and different, which can really help you reset when you need it most. I tend to shave my head every now and then. My wife makes fun of me for saying it's cathartic, but it is in a way. It's a sort of symbolic cleaning and restarting.  A massage can be, as well, as can a good session in a sauna or steam room.

Whatever it is, don't forget to give yourself a clean start from time to time.

So you reward yourself as you win your way to your ultimate goal, and keep yourself fresh and rejuvenated by being mindful of your need for this along the way as you enlighten.your.body.

2013 - A good, fast year

I thought the timing was right to do a little reminiscing on 2013. This was a big year for me after 2012, which started great, but quickly was defined by two injuries and two related surgeries.

2013 was a year of several firsts

• First race (5K)
• First 10K
• First half marathon
• First time on a road bike
• First road cycling event (100K that turned into a 110 miler)
• First professional designation in the health and fitness space (I got certified as a personal trainer by the National Association of Sports Medicine)

It was also a year of PRs

• Fasted 5K
• Longest run
• Longest ride
• Most miles run in a week and month
• Most consistent runs

As in most years past, I also had several unfortunate side-linings just when I was starting to really hit my stride (literally and figuratively). I'm currently off from running due to a tendon issue in my left foot that started in September as I ramped up my mileage for my half marathon, but I also dealt with Achilles pain, quad strains, knee pain, etc, etc, etc.  The thing about this year is that I generally haven't let that stop me.  Why? 2013 is also the year that I really feel my repertoire (or arsenal, depending how aggressively you want to look at it) was really well-developed and in a place where I could deal with injuries and keep going. I learned a lot in getting my certification (and the Corrective Exercise Specialist credentials I'm working on now), but I also learned a lot about and with my own body first hand, and just understand things better - like it all sort of clicked.  I've been a regular at my physical therapist's office and have learned a lot there, but I view that as completely beneficial rather than something I have to do because of an injury.

A big reason why the physical has all fell into place despite injuries along the way is that 2013 was a big year for the mental side of my development. I've always stressed how you must bring your mind along with your body for health to truly take hold and stick in your life. I've read some fantastic books (probably the most impactful being "Choose to be Happy" by Wayne Froggat). I also made a point of reading some enjoyable books (Scott Jurek's "Eat & Run" was a favorite), and some that crossed both (Jay Dicchary's "Anatomy for Runners" is an absolute must read).

I've had lots of personal wins and personal losses, professional wins and losses, and physical wins and losses. As do we all. The balance is in the right place, and I found myself having an active hand in creating that balance by investing in myself. That's what I mean by enlighten.your.body. It's an active thing you do for yourself. It doesn't happen to you (or I'd have said, "get.your.body.enlightened" or something passive like that).

Look back on your 2013. How'd you do? What will you shift in 2014 to bring the right balance to your world?  How will you take an active stance on your health, happiness and life overall to enlighten.your.body?

Q: How do I stick with it (Part II)

Q: How do I stick with doing what I know I should? I am pretty good about exercise, but I eat things I know I shouldn't. I just have to make myself do it, right?

A: I talked about motivation in the first part of my response to this question. You should read that post, but the essence is about finding a driver within you so that you aren't making yourself do anything, but wanting to do something for your health (eating right, exercising, etc).

In this part, I want to address the 'something'. Let's look at exercise first. Some people have this idea that you have to go to a gym, feel awkward, get super sweating, wear cheap flip flops in the shower, and rush off to work late and sweating all over again. You have to sit (literally or figuratively) on a machine, staring at a wall, mirror, magazine or small TV screen.  You have to do it for at least 60 minutes or you won't lose any weight.

Does this sound enticing to you?  No, I'm sure it sounds more demoralizing to you than enticing.  As a work out addict, that doesn't appeal to me at all.  If it doesn't appeal, you will dread it.  If you dread it, you will have to make yourself do it, and that's exactly what we're trying to avoid.

So how do you do it? You need to find what you enjoy doing, and do that.

I had to stop during a CUYOP run to get
this photo of the great scenery I get to run in

OK, that's too simple, right?  Well, not really.  For me, I learned that I prefer outdoor exercise, so I took up cycling and running. I use machines in doors when weather really keeps me off the roads, but I combined those two things with my commute to balance my time (check out my post on CUYOP, and the Twitter hashtag #cuyop), get some varied scenery (I have a few routes I can take, including a nice riverfront section), and found that when I have an actual goal, I enjoy it more (i.e. getting to my office vs. just running a loop around my home).  So I found exercises I generally enjoy more than others, and found modalities for doing those exercises that I prefer.

I also have gym exercises I prefer, so I try to do those more than those I don't prefer or care for (I'll run on a treadmill, but find it really mind-numbing, same for upright bikes though oddly not for recumbent bikes).  Then the question is how do you do them and for how long. I recently had a long discussion with a client who couldn't get past the idea that she needed to do at least 60 minutes of cardio to make it worth anything. That's just not so. The key is not to do things at a constant pace.  Use intervals on a machine where every so often, it makes you go faster or deal with more resistance.  Pick an undulating hill course (on a machine or in real life).  Use intervals out on the road by going faster for a minute, and then slower for a minute in a pattern throughout your run/walk/ride/rollerskate/XC skiing/etc.  The run/walk approach is a great way to get into running and build your cardio-respiratory ability while not over-taxing your system. You can use a stop watch set to signal each minute, or better yet, download any of the great, free interval apps for your smart phone (I use Seconds for iOS).

Scientifically, intervals work better than constant work as the up and down in effort sparks a fat burning response that can last for hours after your workout.  As a result, you don't need to do it as long for the same result as if you did a constant effort workout.  The key is to not just choose an interval workout, but actually do it.  By that I mean when the interval hits, move faster. It's pretty easy to get lost in your reading or a show and ignore the machine telling you to pump it (or miss the point where you were supposed to start running again if you're out on the road).

Unscientifically, the variation keeps it interesting, and keeps you engaged (since you have to pay attention to when the interval hits, and you'll want to pay attention to when its done so you can slow down).  I started using a second interval program on my elliptical to spice things up, so I split my workout between the base interval program and a Speed Work program I found that really kicks my butt and is super fun.

I was recently participating in a month-long competition that included doing 100 burpees a day. Burpees are a mix of a squat thrust and a jump (unless you do the cross fit version, which substitutes the squat thrust with laying down on the floor).  They're great, and terrible, too.  I found that I really dreaded them, and would procrastinate starting, which just ate into the rest of my workout time. Due to an injury, I had to stop doing them before the competition ended, but I also realized I should have dropped them from my routine because of how I felt about doing them and the cost that feeling was having on my workout overall.

The same exact story applies to healthy eating. Kale is the greatest food in the world and the only thing you should eat according to some fanatics. What if you absolutely hate it? Well, then, forcing yourself to just eat kale will be a recipe for not sticking with healthy eating. Find healthy things you love (and I'm not talking about packaged foods that advertise low fat or low sodium, but actual food that was alive at some point (whether veggie or animal or both is up to you). If you hate chicken but want to avoid red meat, experiment with turkey, seafood or veggie-based meat alternatives to keep your protein up. If you don't like leafy greens, try baby broccoli, which is a hybrid of kale and broccoli.  Try some foreign veggies like baby bok choi (aka youcsai) or daikon. Open up those spices you haven't been using to give your dishes a kick. Check out some of my recipes for inspiration, or look at Twitter for healthy cooking ideas - it's LOADED with them.

So, find your true motivation, and then find the things you enjoy doing. Just find how to transform your life into one you choose to really live healthily and fully. That's how you enlighten.your.body.

Q: How do I stick with it? How do I do what I know I should, but just don't do? (Part I)

Q: How do I stick with doing what I know I should? I am pretty good about exercise, but I eat things I know I shouldn't. I just have to make myself do it, right?

A: It isn't about making yourself do anything, or it won't last. You have to find a way to do it without having to force yourself with tools like discipline and will power. Forcing yourself means you view it as a chore. If you view it as a chore, it won't last.  The key is finding your real motivation.

Discipline and will power mean you have to make yourself do it. I'm talking about finding something bigger that drives you so you aren't forcing yourself, but rather you want to do it and enjoy doing it. 'Enjoying' and 'wanting' may sound foreign in the context of eating right and exercising, but that's the point.

For me, it was a culmination of things that hit a couple of years ago when my wife got sick and I realized I had put on much of the weight I had lost when I was younger and basically felt miserable physically and about myself. Our young son was watching all of this. That isn't what a child should see as health role models. It literally flipped a switch in my head and drove me in a way I hadn't been driven before, not even when I lost 65 pounds when I was 17.

Now I do it because I genuinely love it and don't like not doing it. I don't have to push myself. I see myself in a totally different way, and fitness isn't something I have to do, but something I want to do and is intrinsically tied to who I am. Before, the best way to describe it was a chore.

No one wants to do chores.

The same goes for eating right, which is where many people would benefit from focusing. While there are probably a few key things you can change in your diet that will have dramatic effects, if you don't find that thing that makes you want to do it, you'll fall off the wagon when temptation arises.

What will motivate you to come at it differently? That's a question you can only answer for yourself. I can help you do that, but ultimately, it has to come from you to really shift things. Figure it out, and you will enlighten.your.body.

Preflections on a milestone I'm heading toward

In less than 48 hours from now, I will have finished my first half marathon. I say 'less than 48' because that means I will have done so in under 2 hours, which has been my backup goal time.  My original goal was sub-1:45, but I've been plagued by various tendonitis issues and a deep pain in my left femoral head.  While most of it has resolved, I'm left with one remaining injury and an insufficient amount of training.  The question is whether it's truly insufficient in the grand scheme of things, or just relative to what you're supposed to do for such a race.  I've not yet run longer than 9 miles in one go, which is really the only piece of it that concerns me beyond whether any injury flairs up enough for me not to even be able to walk to the finish (I could walk the course and still get in before the cutoff, but not likely if my remaining injury is really bad).

Stepping back from the cloud of injury and what it has meant for my training, I'm able to look at what I'm about to do, and feel a growing sense of pride.  I call this post a 'preflection' because it's like I'm reflecting on what I'm about to do rather than what I've just done. I'm using this as a chance to center my mind on the goal, on the idea that any time will be a PR since I've not yet covered this distance, and even if I have, I've never done it in an official race.

Preflecting allows me to see that, and also to ignore the deviation I've had to take from the prescribed training path, or the notion that you have to at least have run X miles before doing a half.  I know that my cardio-respiratory abilities are sufficient to get through the race.  I know that my muscular endurance is sufficient.  The only true variable is my mindset, and I know that is something that can be controlled.  I've seen it first hand, whether climbing multiple mountains back to back despite a major fear of heights (and horrible weather), or going from doing a 100K bike ride to it being a surprise 183K and feeling perfectly fine the next day (save for numbness from sitting on a bike saddle for 6 hours).

I have it in me. Nothing else matters, nor should I let anything else matter.  I will be PRing. I will have a finisher's medal. And, most importantly, I will feel amazing.  I will enlighten.my.body. Now it's up to you to enlighten.your.body.

Another Year Older, Still The Healthiest I've Ever Been

On the eve of another birthday, it's a great time to reflect on my life and where I am with the preservation of it - that is, my health.  I made a complete transformation of my life in the summer of 2011, and have been able to say at each birthday since then that I'm in the best health of my life.  This is the third time in a row I can do that, and that is something I'm feeling incredibly proud and empowered by.

I'm healthier than I've ever been in terms of my body composition, cardio-respiratory ability, muscular performance, cholesterol, etc.

Each year that I've been able to say this, I've had a voice inside saying something to the effect of, "Enjoy it while it lasts, because you will crest and regress sometime in the near future." That voice assumes that, as I age, I won't be able to stay as healthy. Joints will break down, skin, arteries and muscle will lose their elasticity, and my heart and lungs will naturally reduce their capacity as the tissue ages and tires. It's what aging is all about.

That may be true, but that doesn't mean it is going to be the case anytime soon. More importantly, it doesn't mean I need to act like it will be the case anytime soon.

To me, it's the mindset that drives being healthy. If I give in to the notion that I'm too old to be healthier than I've ever been, I will start to make choices - consciously or subconsciously - that make that presumption a reality. I may cut myself some slack in a workout. I may not try as hard with my food choices because, hey, what's the point since I'm old and can't change that?

No. That's not how I plan to age. I've worked too hard and enjoyed the process and fruits of my labor too much to write my abilities off due to my need to select an older age bracket when filling out surveys. Yes, I am moving into another standard marketing demographic as of 2am tonight. Unfortunately, I am not moving into another age bracket for running, which is a shame since I have my first half marathon in about a week, am dealing with several tendonitis injuries, and could really use a lower bar to place against! (I'm kidding around - my wife doesn't think anyone will get that I'm joking, so I best be clear - I'm not really worried about where I place.)

I was talking with a friend/fellow-health-nut about how I've gotten into all these activities after my supposed physical prime, and she was saying that many of the top triathletes are in their late 30s. Sure enough, I know a couple, and their age averages out to 40. They're also in better shape than pretty much anyone I know. They chose to keep progressing on the path of health, with each year serving not to work against their health but to be another year they get to work on their health and build it to the next level.

I will age with the idea that I'm an athlete. I'm a healthy person making healthy choices in every aspect of my life.  Do you know what will come of that approach? It will be my reality because the approach will set the actions that deliver on being healthier than I've ever been.

For me, I'm framing myself as healthy and being on a quest of continued health. What about you? How do you look at your age, your aging, and your health? Are you giving into the little voice telling you it's not in your power to become healthier as you age, or are you going to enlighten.your.body?

Exercise vs Working Out

What is the difference between Exercise and Working Out?

Sure, this is really a semantics question, but I want to peel back the outside and get a layer deeper on this question. I've had to take about 10 days off of all real cardio due to an Achille's tendon issue, and it's really put in perspective what I've come to appreciate and what I've come to view as something I have to do.

I have been incredibly lucky lately to be able to commute under my own power (or "CUYOP" as I've called it, and want people hashtagging on Twitter!). That means every day I've gotten at least an hour of quality, outdoor exercise. On the days I've run (which includes a 4 mile bike ride), it's been more like an hour and a half. I really have come to appreciate it, not just for how it lets me get much more exercise into my day without sacrificing on other commitments (except my prior commitment to sit in traffic or be stuck on a disabled train), but also for how it gets me out there, breathing air, bobbing and weaving around traffic or other people, choosing dynamically where I go and what I do, etc. It also has allowed me to get a great unwind period after work before I get home.  This - outside, working hard, enjoying the world, and actually moving vs. being stationary - is what I would call 'exercise'.

Exercise lets me run along the Thames or the Charles River (like in the pic below) and feel completely uplifted and inspired. How could you run in those settings and not feel that way? You look at Pacific Northwest trail running through the mountains or their gorgeous forests, and you see how inspired you'd be burning your calories there. Or you run in a more urban setting and people look at you impressed with your effort while you work various ancillary muscles as you negotiate pedestrians, cars, bikes, cross walks, etc. Complete, inspiring, holistic fitness.

The alternative to this is to be in my basement or at the gym, on a piece of cardio equipment, watching a show, reading a magazine or trying not to watch the clock tick down to zero while listening to music. It does the job (sometimes with more caloric burn), is convenient, and allows me to wear clothes I shouldn't be seen in public in (like compression gear without covering it up with shorts or a shirt) - caveat, I wear clothes in public that no one should have to see me in when I ride my road bike, so apologies to anyone who has seen me riding.

But there's something so much 'less' about working out. It's not that it's bad, but it just doesn't do for the mind what exercise does. As I've said before, I'm not about physique so much as total, holistic health. Whole body fitness, as I put it in a recent blog post. Sure, you can achieve your physical goals just fine with a piece of cardio equipment and some weights in a gym. Will you become a well-rounded, complete, fit person who isn't just physically an athlete, but feels like an athlete? Possibly, but not like you would by getting out and exercising. At least not as far as I'm concerned.

So, even if you are a gym rat, find even 15 minutes to go for a brisk walk (maybe parking away from the gym and walking there) to get some real, live, exercise. Breath the air. Look at your surroundings. Take it all in, get healthier inside and out, and truly enlighten.your.body.

100 Kilometers = 110 Miles

That is a screen shot from the Google results of a question I asked.  That question is "How many miles is 100K?" 62 and change. But I already knew that since I had run a 10K this summer, and knew it was 6.2 miles, and I'm at least good enough at math to multiply by 10.

Why does this matter? Well, I had signed up to do the Wounded Warrior Project Soldier Ride on September 21st around suburbs West of Boston. If you aren't familiar with the Soldier Ride program, you should get familiar with it. It's pretty amazing. While it aims to raise money via charity bike rides, its main focus is actually on having Wounded Warriors - those who fought for America and were injured in the line of duty (both external, physical injuries and the unseen injuries of brain damage and emotional trauma like PTSD) - train and and ride in the event. The speaker for my ride was a veteran who suffered both kinds of injury, and spoke about how hard it is to be part of such a tight-knit, interdependent team and then coming home to such a contrasting life where your injury also makes you feel incapable. He talked about how the Soldier Ride gives Wounded Warriors that team connection and feeling of not just accomplishment but ability.

The program offers a 22 mile ride (which the Warriors and most people do), a 100K route and a century ride (100 miles).  There was a barbell distribution in sign ups - I didn't talk to a single other person who said they were doing the 100K officially, but I did talk to a few 100 milers who planned to cut out early as the ride went through their home town.

It is for this noble cause that I decided to push myself, and sign up for a distance twice what I had ever rode. I had only been riding for about six weeks when I signed up (like, ever, not just six weeks this season - I only started road biking in July, and hadn't ridden a bike in nearly 15 years before that). I believe in my level of fitness, and see myself as an athlete, so I felt I could do it. When I saw the official, final course was set at 45 miles and change, I said, "Not good enough!"  I used my commute to the ride's start and end to get back up to 100K (actually more like 107K) because there was no way I was going to ride for people who made incredible sacrifices for us by cutting short the real goal or taking the easy way out.

Me, MA Gov candidate Evan Falchuk and my dad, pre-race

So, I rode to the event at a leisurely, warm-up pace in the mid-teen miles per hour on what was a very chilly September morning at about 7am. I got to the event, picked up my bib, changed into my riding gear, and met up with some family who were doing the ride, too.  My cousin, who is running for Governor of Massachusetts, did the ride. Not trying to plug him, but I do really appreciate when a person does more than show up and smile, but actually gives of themselves in a real way. This actually wasn't his first time, and his family has attempted it with him in the past, too (his wife was doing it again this year).  My father was also along for the 22 miler, which was great.

Middlesex County Honor Guard (and the GEICO Geccko)

So I put a Gu gel, two Honey Stinger Cherry Cola gummy chews (with caffein - I was very happy with these as they were easy to eat, not messy and gave me a good boost), and a pack of Jelly Belly Recovery Beans in my riding shirt. I decided to eat a Gu about 15 minutes before the ride started, and have a bag of recovery beans so the protein had a chance to get into my system. I should have hung onto one of those, but I had no room in my pockets given that I also had a spare inner tube and a flat repair tools, plus I needed to put my cleat covers into my shirt once we mounted up.

The Middlesex County Sheriff sent the Honor Guard to open the ceremonies, and we heard from the organizers and the Warrior I mentioned above.  There was a lot of cheering, and people were in great spirits.  It's hard not to be for something like this.  Some companies had amazing showings with large teams they had put money behind, like this one from Raytheon (makes sense since they're a major defense contractor and based near the ride's start).

The Raytheon team at the starting arch

One of the most amazing things was to see the Warriors and their bikes. Some of the bikes were pretty standard, but others were altered in ingenious ways to work with the various injuries the Warriors have. Hand bikes were a common site, as were several variants of recumbent bikes. Here's a little shot of the Warrior's corral, where you ca see a couple of them plus the various different bike setups they have.

Wounded Warrior bike corral

So the ride started at 9:25am, and the temp was probably in the low 50s. I was actually shivering at that point from basically not moving for the last hour and a half on a brisk morning (and having very little on). I had chosen a De Marchi bib with a medium-thickness chamois, plus my Zoots Kona Iron Man sleeveless, compression, riding jersey. I was regretting the latter of those choices at that point, but my regret would flip flop as the day went on.

We started off with the Warriors leading the pack followed by their support vehicle.  We did the first few miles in a controlled pack, all riding together in the high-single-digit to 10 mph range. It was really moving and positive - no one was racing, everyone was happy, and it was great to get a view of the Warriors riding.

After a few miles, we could pull in front of the Warriors and start to ride at a pace we'd set. I had never ridden in a road race or pack (or actually ever more than with one other person), so I was really just trying to figure out how to fit in, pick my moments to pull ahead, read the cues of those around me, etc. It reminded me of my second running race, which was super-densely packed and hard to navigate.

After a bit, we started to break apart more, and settle into pace packs. Those doing the 100K and 100M routes turned off onto a different course, leaving the 22 milers to their route.  I waved goodbye to my father, and used the less-dense group to try to pull ahead a bit. I also resigned in my mind to be content finishing and not worrying about whether I was up front or not. I was inexperienced, and while the overall crowd wasn't super elite or anything, there were some very serious looking riders in the mix.  There was also block of four or five guys on Cervélo TT (time trial) bikes that were intent on leading.  Anytime they were behind, they'd pack together, and push ahead, whizzing past us in their super-aerodymic, razor-thin frames. We were in a residential and slightly hilly area with lots of turns and street crossings - not really the place for a TT bike, but they were focused on leading.

That didn't last long.

After about 15 miles, the TTs were a bit spent, and out of their element. A group of about 10 of us pulled to the front, and broke into two packs by the 20 mile mark. Unbelievably to me, I was in the front group with three other guys that I got to know pretty well over the miles that lay ahead. They were not just nice guys and good riders, but helped teach me (whether they knew it or not) about how to ride in a pack and handle the distance.  I was the youngest in the group, but they weren't likely more than another 10 years older than I am.

I had my Garmin bike computer tracking distance (among other things), and watched as the miles ticked by while I took in the scenery. In the back of my mind, I had this fear or missing a turn or more importantly the spot where the 100K and 100M routes split.  I kept a close eye on my Garmin's distance  measurement.

As we hit the 40 mile mark on what was said to be a 45 mile route, we were definitely not within 5 miles of the ride's end, but I figured maybe there's some route I wasn't aware of, so I didn't lose faith. Also at this point, we hit a water station (the second, with the first at 20 miles - but we didn't know this was also the last one). We asked the guy manning the station about the distance, and he had no idea how far we'd come or how far was left. I had two water bottles, but had given one to one of the 100 mile guys in my group, so I took a bottle at the water station to refill my only remaining bottle.  That 100 miler split off as we were not far from his home, so he ended up doing something in the low 40s.  Still, he was pushing, so he put in a good effort, and was a great guy and good rider.

About 30 minutes until the start. Cold but excited!

We entered a park area, and ended up riding for the next two to three miles on a mix of sand, dirt, rocks and moss. Not really what road bikes are meant for, but it was actually kind of fun. It was also a chance to recover a bit as our pace was cut in half to deal with the terrain.  One of our pack slipped on a mossy spot, and wiped out, but was able to recover with some scrapes on his elbow.  The path came to a fork with no markings as to which way to go, so we went with the larger, clearer route. That was a mistake, and we ended up in a model plane air field during a local gathering.  The planes were really cool, but I was starting to worry about how long this ride would be, whether I had enough fuel and water to make it. We were told to stop at a gas station or convenience store if we needed something, but the mainly residential route meant we hadn't seen either of those things in about 20 miles, so we couldn't really bank on that.

We back tracked, and took the other part of the fork only to be joined by a large group of riders that we had previously been quite a ways ahead of.  I was bummed that my sizable lead had been cut to nil as I had been feeling a bit of a high from being the lead 100K rider.

Getting through the rest of the woods, we all largely stayed together, but once we hit the road, those of us that had been leading pulled ahead again.

At this point, I was at 43 miles, and realized the map was just totally wrong, so I best ration my water and remaining fuel (one pack of recovery beans and one pack of Honey Stinger gummies) to get through the next 20 miles.  I used the recovery beans, and kept chugging.

All the while, I looked down at my Garmin, and called out major miles to my pack.  I also was growing increasingly concerned since I knew enough of the local area to know were actually getting farther from the end.

60 miles came and went.  I got really nervous.

100K ticked by.  OK, now what?

Now what was to stay calm. My body actually felt ok. I'm strong, conditioned, and the day was perfect - not too hot, not too windy in most areas - and I had great company that I was enjoying. The only concerns I had were around fuel, water and not having a clue how much was actually left to go. My wife was also feeling sick when I left that morning, and I was already past when I was supposed to be back, so that was weighing on my mind. Luckily, she was doing better and totally awesome and understanding about things when I called her, so I could put that concern out of my head.

All of the sudden at mile 80 (as in 18 miles past the 100K mark), a sign appeared directing 100K riders to the left and 100M riders to the right. I took the left, but wondered if that was a weak choice. I think I could do another 20 miles, and then officially hit 100M during the ride itself (and 120.6 for the day). That said, my concern was whether the remaining distance was 20 miles or maybe far more. Since my course was mapped at 45 miles, maybe there was another 50 miles to go or something? That I was pretty sure I couldn't do without a major refueling, and it would put me out past dark as it was now approaching 2:30 or 3pm. I wasn't sure about any of that since I had stripped my bike of all lighting and reflecting to save weight.  Plus, we hadn't seen a gas station in 60 miles, and hadn't seen a water station in 40, so I didn't want to risk doing so much distance without any additional fuel or water (since I was now out of both).

Knowing I'd at least hit 100 miles for the day (10.3 in, 80 so far, 10.3 back plus whatever I needed to get from that split back to the finish), I took the 100K route.  Just past the 81 mile mark, I hit a gas station. Let me rephrase that - I hit an oasis in the desert. I knew I should get a Coke or Pepsi to get some sugar in my body as I was really feeling the bonk, and figured the caffeine would be a smart idea. I also knew I'd need to buy water - enough to fill my main bottle at the very least. Good thing I had put a $20 in my flat repair bag and had myAmEx on me, too.

When I stepped in, that's when I saw it - the ice cream cooler.  Apparently, Snickers makes an ice cream bar that's the most delicious thing on Earth when you've been riding a bike for four and a half hours. I bought that, a Pepsi and a large bottle of water.

I called home and texted the ride organizer about the course issues. I was less worried about myself than anyone else out there who had paced for 45 or 62 miles and was now at mile 80, no clue how far they had to go, and was out of water, fuel or willpower.

Feeling literally energized, I hit the course and fired up Google Maps on my phone, put in the finish line's address, and tapped for bike directions.  It said I was 10 miles away.  I had been checking periodically throughout the ride, and often got 10 miles as the distance, so I was a bit skeptical, but I started to recognize some of the highway signs I was seeing and what they pointed to.

I followed the course, but soon came to a sign I thought I'd seen before for a split between the 100K/100M and 22M courses. That means I must be near the finish, but is this a new sign, or the one I had seen around 9:45 that morning? With the missing turn sign and the major course mistake that had me doing so much longer of a route, I just couldn't have faith at this point.  I decided to take the 22M route in case it was the same sign, so I knew I'd only have another 10 or so miles to go. Google Map check - 10 miles from the finish.  Of course it is.

Google thinks bikers go much slower than I do. That's demotivating for someone who has been riding for about 5 hours already.  Seeing "50 minutes" for something that should take less than 30 has an effect on you when it only displays time remaining. Add to that how I got it down to 19 minutes from about 40, took the turn it told me to take, and it bounced right up to 37 minutes.  I'm sure the people in the homes I was passing at that moment not only heard me moan, but felt it in their bones.

But don't worry, there's only 10 miles to the finish according to Google Maps.

That's when I saw it. Or him, rather. A guy I had noticed at the start wearing a red cycling jersey with Star Trek across the front. He was on the side of the road, having a drink and rest. I must be on the right path - or at least I be lost with someone else. Either way, I was happy.  I took that emotional boost, and started to really cook.  Google understood my pace, and now told me I was under 10 minutes away (I'll guess it wasn't saying 10 miles at this point).

I had veered from the course directions and was sticking to Google because I had absolutely no faith in the course at this point. Suddenly, a sign appeared with an arrow for "straight ahead" signaling I had rejoined the actual course (maybe I never left it?). A couple more miles, and I could see the finish.

As I cross under where the inflatable blue arch of the start had been (they had cleaned up most of the event setup after the 22 miler and picnic had concluded), I stopped my Garmin.

5:10. That's five hours and ten minutes of riding versus the roughly three hours it should have been. I felt good, actually, and wasn't worried about my ride home.

89.5 miles versus the 45 or 62 it should have been.

6,668 calories burned (not including the fuel I took in, including the big hit from the Pepsi and Snickers, but I definitely still ran a major deficit, and you need to add in my 20.6 mile commute, too).

I downed a veggie and a turkey six inch sub from Subway that they had at the finish, drank a bottle of water, talked to the organizers about the route and the risk to other riders, and hit the road again.  I took a decided slower pace on the return home (about 15 mph vs the high teens and low 20s I had been cooking at much of the day).

Next stop, the shower.  Then I took my son to a local Whole Foods to get some fresh made juice and tell him about the day, and that was that.

Adding in my commute, I did 114 miles.  I biked for six hours and 20 minutes and burned 8,047 calories. I rode at an average pace of 17.5 miles per hour. I was not happy about the course issues and the risk it posed to people, but I was also blown away with what I had accomplished and how well I had done in that accomplishment. I didn't just finish, I performed really strongly, outdoing many more serious bikers who certainly looked the part physically more than I do.

The takeaway

So what have I taken away. There's a clear story of ability, belief, hard work and commitment. There's also a story about trusting your body more than your mind thinks it can or should, as I learned well during the Three Peaks Challenge.

More tactically, there's a definite lesson in fueling and hydration strategy and back up. I would definitely plan for an extra 20 miles or 2 hours of need to be safe - more if I know there's no way out or to get help. I would definitely have taken a second water bottle at the 40 mile station - that would have been the easiest change to make, and I even debated it. I didn't want to carry the weight, but surely it would have been worth it as I know not having to ration my water would have helped my muscles from feeling as worn as they did when I hit that split with the 100M route. I think I would have gone for the 100M if I had that other bottle.

I woke the next day pain-free save for a bit in the left side of where my neck and back meet, and a numbness in an area I'd have to write a new Rüez review to name.  For that issue, I would have chosen a bib with a beefier chamois (I picked my least built up), and have since gone back to my bike fitter about my saddle, which I've changed out for one with a relief channel in the middle. I also found that my saddle (the standard that came with my bike) is about 10mm too narrow for my biology. So I'd have gone back in time to when I bought my bike, and ask to add saddle fitting to my initial setup.

The general lack of pain - either stiffness, sore muscles, etc - and the fact that I worked out the next morning (at a slightly lower intensity on purpose, but I think I could have done the usual) really amazed me. I've had back surgery, double hernia surgery, two left knee ops, right wrist surgery twice and a dislocated left shoulder. I expected to at least have back pain. Not a lick of it during or afterward. Not even stiffness. This is all a testament to the general level of fitness I maintain, the emphasis I've placed on balancing my musculature (this is why I think the left side of my neck hurts and the right doesn't - imbalance somewhere that was pulling unevenly on my neck), and doing proprioceptively rich training (BOSU squats and push ups, running on grass, minimalist shoes), and actually doing all the PT exercises I've been given after each surgery.

If you work hard, you can achieve so much. Honestly, not doing that doesn't interest me at all. How about your? Do you agree that hard work, dedication and belief in your abilities is the way to enlighten.your.body?