Hey hey!
Hope things are going well at your end of the Universe.
Over the past 8 weeks, I’ve had four good training weeks and four not-so-good training weeks. For the first 4 weeks, I kept trying to make things happen. I kept trying to over-engineer things. Then, I did what I eventually do and write copious notes on it and keep repeating to myself that THIS IS WHAT I NEED TO DO (only to promptly forget it in a few weeks). I stopped trying. I got back to enjoying my training and having fun.
Hopefully, this 863rd time of re-learning this lesson, it sticks ;)
On to the 3 things for today,
on playing an endless game and why that could be a way forward, to get out of this instant gratification game.
3 quotes. From Steven Pressfield, Anne Lamott, and Verlyn Klinkenborg.
on a great training session I had, and the magic secret recipe for you to have only great training sessions and get a 16-pack in 16 days.
The Endless Game
You start off unable to run 500 metres, or walk up 5 flights of stairs, or bend down and tie your shoelace.
You run regularly and are able to run 10 kilometres at a stretch - that's frickin' brilliant and unbelievable. Do you now aim for 20 kilometres? What's after 20? 100?
Or do you change the game? But doesn't that go against the whole concept of Mastery?
You can totally change the game - why? Well, rules are what you make out of them. In the game of fitness, you can add more sub-games and sub-plots to it.
And you can come back to games you've played. Maybe after running 20 km, you decide more is not better. You want to run a faster 5k. Great! Or you want to run an Ultra - brilliant!
There are no wrong answers.
Well, except one, possibly. The point of the game is not to complete the game.
Coz then, what's the point?
The point of the game, I think, is to have fun and keep exploring boundaries.
Fitness can be an infinite game, and I strongly believe it should. Because it is a great vehicle to grow, and push yourself, and also have a great quality of life.
Don't be in a rush to squat your bodyweight or deadlift 2x or whatever, and think the game is done.
The game doesn't have to end.
And that's the best part!
3 quotes for this week
E. L. Doctorow once said that "writing a novel is like driving a car at night. You can see only as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way." You don't have to see where you're going, you don't have to see your destination or everything you will pass along the way. You just have to see two or three feet ahead of you. This is right up there with the best advice about writing, or life, I have ever heard.
– Anne Lamott
The connection she establishes with me (the reader) is mind-blowing. And her wit is stupendous. I find myself laughing out loud on more than one occasion, as I read the book.
And of course, scattered throughout are gold nuggets of wisdom which I hope my mind has somehow clawed on to and will regurgitate back to me when I need it.
That our project has crashed is not a reflection of our worth as human beings. It's just a mistake. It's a problem - and a problem can be solved.
– Steven Pressfield
The hard part is framing the problem. If and when we can frame it, it stops being a monster. It stops being an unknown. This is obviously easier said than done.
But it is important. It is not a character flaw that is exhibited in the failure of the project. You do not need to move to the Himalayas and meditate on your sins and come back wiser. Shit happens.
Frame the problem. From being an unknown, it becomes well defined.
Now, solve it.
True discipline is remembering and recovering - inventing if necessary - what interests you. If it doesn't interest you, how could it possibly interest anyone else?
— Verlyn Klinkenborg
A great rule for what to write about. A great rule for what to work on. A great rule for what kinda work I should be doing in my company.
So many books to read. So many authors and books that I have never heard about. Previously, I used to get overwhelmed by it. Now, I am just excited. There's an endless treasure trove that I can dive into for the rest of my life.
If that's not the best news in the world, I don't know what is.
The Key Ingredient to a Great Training Session
On Thursday, I had one of those training sessions.
My brain stayed out of it. I did not struggle to focus, nor did I try to stay in the present moment. I did. Producing movement quality and grace and precision that was way above my normal.
Exploring movements that I do all the time but from a different focal point, I found myself learning and connecting.
All with the overwhelming sensation of getting something right.
Laundry list
This does not happen often. A handful of times a year, if I am lucky.
Most often, I find myself trying too hard to make things happen.
Giving myself a laundry list of instructions. The never-ending list that keeps growing, instead of shrinking, as I read and analyse more and more. Note to self: Distil. Don't enumerate.
Matrix
Like Neo, I find myself searching for something. Something behind the curtain. Just over there. Right there.
That feeling of feeling the thrusters fly up that one fateful day under Kelly's watchful eyes.
That feeling of jumping down the track and hitting my first ball of an innings for four (wherever did that come from?!?)
It exists. I've felt it. Bypassing my thinking, my brain and its set of instructions and DOs and DONTs.
It surfaces occasionally. At work. And in training sessions. I find the smaller universe of training to be my perfect sandbox. If I can understand it here, I can take it over there. There being life or work or whatever the larger universe is.
Chatter
Even as I am engrossed and exploring this state of body and mind, mundane thoughts floated in.
When is dinner?
Should I be writing something down?
How long has it been? If it is 30 minutes, you can cap it. Right?
Normally, there are two outcomes from here. One, I listen to the thought. Two, I berate myself for having the thought. Lo and behold, a miracle happened. Instead, I just focused on one relaxed, long inhale-exhale and went back to what I was doing.
After I finished my training session, I spent the next 15 minutes writing thoughts and emotions down in my training journal.
A feeling of joy, of amazement, and one of "yep!"
But they were also crowded by "What are you going to do about it?" and "How can you ensure you always train this way" and "Can you make a routine out of this?"
Platypus
I ruin things by over-thinking.
I had a great training session.
Yes, it would be wonderful to have my brain shut up and to have this more of this altered state of training.
But even if it never ever happens again, I still had an amazing experience.
I understand that it is not zero or one. There are days when my body feels like a duck-billed platypus. And then there are these kinda days.
I think it is possible to have more days like this. Until I remind myself to stop thinking. To stop trying.
Whatever my mind and body have learned from that experience, my brain thankfully doesn't really understand and won't meddle with it. One hopes.
A question
What are you overthinking?
Find something small and specific. Not something large and life-encompassing.
Thanks for spending a few minutes with me. If you enjoyed one of these, do share and spread the word.
