On Pretending

Ira's glasses, Glasses' iris: Ira Glass.

Alright, I need to admit something. When I'm in the middle of my very own, very best Rocky-training montage, I'm usually listening to a podcast. Yup, as I leap over benches and bust out pullups around Lake Merritt, I'm listening to Ira Glass' culturally androgynous mumble. 

In fact, I think Ira and the entire NPR-fueled story-telling ethic is currently propping up the whole weight of storytelling and its central place in the arc of human history. Combined with the fact that, as my buddy Nathan likes to say*, information doesn't matter anymore--everything you could ever want to know is a thumb-spasm away on your smartphone--NPR's place of prominence is somewhat surprising.

Homer--think Illiad, not The Simpson's--the ancient dude who was probably actually a thousand people.

Considering that the oral tradition (we think) was our first system of societal-cultural crowd-sourced knowledge accumulation, it would seem that an oral tradition is really obsolete. And it definitely is! ...as an information bank. But importantly--and this is where NPR lives--the art of speaking about us, as genuinely and truthfully as possible. and in a way that invites the audience to personally engage, still matters. It still matters because it's one of those treasured places where morality comes from, and it still matters because it is the product of a whole lot of committed doing by the journalists. 

Alright, now you know the depth of my love for NPR (I'm a f*ckin hippie, ok?!). And while quality goes up and down, a recent This American Life (TAL)  episode hit me right in the chest. Maybe it was the recent changes in my life, or maybe it was how miserable my run felt that morning, but something about Episode 198: "How to Win Friends and Influence People" carved out a spot in my head and set-up shop. Here's what I heard it saying: 

The hour starts with Ira interviewing director Paul Feig about what "influencing people", the implied key to "winning" and having "friends", really means. Apparently, it means manipulating interactions so that other people feel cared about, it means winning the election for student-council president in 6th grade,  it means losing that presidency when everyone realizes you are a phony who just wants to win the popularity-contest. And, in the end, it means tuning in for the first time to the all-important language of implicit communication in human interaction. 

The show then pivots to a David Sedaris story about the dark side of "winning friends and influencing people"--what it feels like to be at the bottom of the human dog pile that is middle school in America. After a popular kid, Thad, beats him up and causes enough damage to warrant a dentist bill, David's dad has a meeting with Thad and his parents. Thad says all the right things--David frantically agrees with him--and the situation is smoothed over. The enduring image is that of Sedaris "forever holding a place in his heart" for Thad, even if their only significant interaction was when Thad's fist made contact with David's jaw, in 7th grade.  As I think about that one (Stockholm syndrome? Chronic apologizers?), I see present-day and grown-up David as the not-so-guilty victim of a ruthless social hierarchy. Eccentric, sure, but not exactly culpable.

At this point, TAL has laid out how it is for the winners (Paul Feig) and the losers (David Sedaris) in the arena of Social Influence, and I find myself pondering an alternative. Who can you possibly be, if not a "winner" or a "loser"? 

What about those people who just pretend to be winners? Are they desperate optimists, the self-help gulping masses? If they're not actively engaging with the rise or fall of their personal status-star, are they of any use, to themselves or society at large?

Actually, and acutely, yes, I find out as I keep listening. The next journalist on TAL titles his story "People Like You If You Put a Lot of Time Into Your Appearance," and I expect to hear a comedy piece about how appearances don't matter and we'd all do better acting less like vain dipsh*ts.  But instead, Luke Burbank recalls the time that he took a plane flight sitting in front of a guy dressed and acting authentically if not explicitly like (but also not not like!) Superman. Ah! a refreshing if sobering fiction piece, you think. 

Wrong. This Superman character is a real dude who actively pursues an engrossing hobby as a costumed character, loose in the bars and restaurants of his small Washington town. When asked, he freely admits to not being Superman, and doesn't even really play up the "I'm Superman" schtick in his demeanor. 

That is, except for one facet: his appearance. On that part, our humble Hero commits all his resources. Between hand-sewing costumes, working to be in great physical shape, even customizing his car, this guy has decided that his life is best spent pretending, in a passionate way, to be someone--something--else. In fact, he fully understands that the verisimilitude is essential to the power of his statement.

This guy, Mark, was initially inspired to his calling after his wife died a couple years earlier. Although he was a lifetime Superman collector, Mark's wife's passing pushed him to take his passion out to the greater public. It gave him a purpose and meaning, and a diversion, right when he needed it most. 

These days, it's a self-sustaining pastime for him in that the reaction from his fans, new and old, is universally positive. It makes their lives better long after it had filled the hole in Mark's life. Making other peoples lives better in a way that also sustains you: can you ask for more than that in a life?

Yes, it is a performance, and no, it isn't real. Yes, it's frivolous and "wasteful", but no, it is not selfish. Yes, it enriches his community, and no, that enrichment doesn't come from trashing third-world countries or sustaining socio-economic prejudice. And it all came from a single actor deciding to commit. In the end, what he's committing to matters much less than the fact that he committed at all. 

There was another bit of fluff to finish the program (a lush, fictional account by Lois Lane's rebound boyfriend after she dumps Superman), but the lesson had been made clear: the crucial tactic to overturning the Popular - Not Popular dialectic lies in the individual's willingness to risk complete annihilation, at his own hands, in the striving toward...something--anything. 

So go do things, and do them with everything you've got. 

--

*He usually says this right before I blow my top about the life-hack phenomenon ("You can't teach yourself mastery on the internet, bro!"), but that's for another blog post. 

You are your priorities.

I wrote the bulk of this blog post yesterday, and then went and saw 12 Years A Slave last night.

It's a hard movie to talk about, but also one of the best I have ever seen.  I suppose I could tell you about how incredibly beautiful the camera work is, or how captivating the main character, Chiwetel Ejiofor, is.  Or that Brad Pitt makes a cameo, or how the music pumps through the film like a heart moving barely enough blood.  I could tell you about how succinctly Michael Fassbender, the main antagonist, distills evil, or how effectively the screenplay puts you in the period, with long looping sentences and antique vocabulary.

But mostly, I felt like I had been strangled.  All those cinematic pieces pulled together into a weapon that stabbed me like few pieces of art have before.  It's a movie that makes you gag, a movie that has you clutching your hands, but one that leaves you immobile, too, having nailed you to your seat for long after the credits have rolled.   See it.

Needless to say, a little blog post about priorities and optimizing the daily choices we make seems a little pale in comparison.  Don't get me wrong, I think it's an important topic, and one that each of us can and should work on.  But mostly, I think it's a topic that we have the incredibly luxury to be able to care about.  In the world of 12 Years..., choice does not exist.

On that sunny note, Happy Sunday!  As always, I love hearing your thoughts...

*****

That word, priority, gets thrown around all the time.  It reflects what or who you care about the most, or what needs to happen first.  But the most importantly, a priority represents a specific organization of limited resources so that one thing (your "priority") is achieved more assuredly than others.  Notice that I didn't say more quickly.  While there are definitely situations where accomplishing the top of your list has a time-sensitive component to it, the true nature of the "priority" only becomes clear when you think big picture and long-term.

Think about the parent whose highest priority is raising their kid well, or the dancer whose highest priority is having a successful career in dance, or the chef whose highest priority is making tasty food.  For these folks, time is not really the driving principle behind how they have organized their own ranking of importance.  Instead, every decision that comes down the pipe is treated to a selection process: which option, which path, lets me align myself with my priority most fully?

Let me step back for a second, because it's important to realize that our priorities exist with or without us consciously making decisions about them.  That dancer from the example above can say whatever they want about what their priorities are, but only the series of decisions that trail into their past really show what their priorities are.  In fact, that series of decisions about your priorities, over the span of your life, show's who you are. You are your priorities.

There is no judgement in that statement, by the way.  I'm not making some St. Peter at the Pearly Gates argument about how you must satisfy the guy upstairs by making the "right" decisions if you hope to add up to anything.  I am literally saying that when it comes to defining a person, pretty dicey ground to tread on if you ask me, I think our best option is to look at how they have handled the big forks in the road of their life.  Taken as a whole, those decisions paint a rich picture.  

I saw a movie recently in which the protagonist, a psychiatrist, points out that the best predictor of future behavior is past behavior, and I think he's right--to a point.  In my business, be it on the trumpet or in the gym, where I deal almost exclusively with helping folks forge futures that represent departures from their established normal or past life, violating the truth of that statement ends up being pretty important.  Basically, I think about priorities a lot.

Now, an important piece of the priorities puzzle is how we are dealing with limited quantities, of time and money and energy.  Much of the time, I am just encouraging people to think about how focusing and achieving priorities is as much about what you don't do as it is about what you do.  Whether it's talking about the SAID principle ("Specific Adaptation to Imposed Demands"), or about the Pareto principle (or "80/20 rule"), smart allocation of resources and not just crazy, herculean efforts, always win the day.

But I think the critical bit is that line where priorities hover between consciousness and unconsciousness, that place where your choice about what is most important to you is cemented into actual decisions made.

An example might help: my client Lauren said she wanted to run a half-marathon in a few months, so she ran 2-3 times/week during that time.  As her trainer, I had her do other things, too (none of which occurred on a Bosu ball), but her priority was clearly defined and was reflected in the weekly decisions she made about how to spend her time.

Now, if she had said she wanted to run that half- but had proceeded to, week after week, chosen to spend that time studying about dinosaurs (a reasonable pass-time, if you ask me...*), her stated priority would not have been her real priority.  Most importantly, she wouldn't have run that half- (or at least, wouldn't have done well if she did), and that half-marathon would not make up the picture of who she is.  

Having a significant hand in crafting your own life is, not surprisingly, incredibly empowering.  The experience of stating a priority and then following through with your daily decision-making effects you in a way that is contagious and delicious, and it usually inspires more life-priority aligning.

But the actual doing is really a tough thing, because there is always internal resistance between what have always been priorities (that "prior behavior") and what you have decided are your new priorities.  It is a daily struggle, but one that truly defines who you are; where else can you get that kind of bang for your buck?   And it sure beats the alternative that Yoda mentions, if you remember that classic... When it comes to priorities, it's always "Do or do not, there is no try."

dinosaurs!

*Happy (day-after-day-after-day-after) halloween, everyone!

Life is easier when it rolls.

As part of my continual process of settling into this new place (the Bay), I have begun riding my bike again. I have more and more things to get to, and the bike always seems to be better option than driving, or even public transit (although sometimes bikes and transit join forces for a super-hero of transportation efficiency-joy). Now, I’d like to get out of the way right off the bat that I am no longer interested, personally, in riding my bike as a way of working hard. I’d much rather throw a bar or a kettlebell around, or explore movements beyond my comfort zone (gymnastics, martial arts, sport, dance, etc.), if I want a training effect. I know some people who do enjoy this way of challenging their fitness, and I applaud them for it! It’s just not for me.

However, this should in no way imply that I have something against bikes in general--quite the opposite. I get on my bike for one reason or another almost every day, and have for a few years now. This post is about why.

1. Mega cost- and time-efficient: Like most things, a commute shows it’s true colors only after consistent observation over long spans of time. And biking wins out for almost all of us.

First, while I know there are folks out there who measure their commute in hours, not minutes (poor souls), I think it should be a major goal for all of us to try to live closer to where we work. Mr. Money Mustache has written extensively and hilariously about this, but mostly it’s better for our bank accounts, our happiness, and our communities when we live and work in the same vicinity.

So living nearby takes care of the main time-suck of sitting in your car or some train/bus. But even having to start your car for at all, even for a 2 mile zip up the road, ends up being a totally shitty way to spend money. I’ll let you check Mr. MM for the numbers, but I just feel like any amount is money I don’t get back.

This becomes especially apparent when you realize it doesn’t need to be this way. Getting on a bike to ride 2 - 5 miles to work one-way will take you between 10 and 45 minutes (a totally reasonable commute time in car-speak; any longer and public transit fits in nicely with your biking), cost you almost nothing (purchase and repair costs end up being in the cents/ride), and have major upsides (discussed below) even beyond, you know, getting you where you're going.

Oh, and one other note for all you cold-weather debbie-downers: any regular bike commuter will tell you that other than making sure you arrive dry and that your ears and hands are warm, biking in inclement/cold weather is actually pretty enjoyable. Of course, this means a little steeper investment for cold-weather folks, but you would be committing to higher car-care costs living in the snow, etc. anyway.

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2. Cheap cardio: One of the real joys of working at a commercial gym (and one particularly good at getting newbies without much confidence to come in) was getting to positively impact peoples’ notions about cardio work. Now for a long time, people took the “cardio base” concept to mean “cardio fundamental,” and therefore “most important,” or “when I only have a few minutes I’ll get some cardio in.” Since that is pretty far from the truth (especially the last part), I made many new connections with clients just by talking to them about the greater benefits that came from strength training and intense conditioning.

But even after writing them programs that got them huffing and puffing and getting strong, inevitably they would ask--between gasps--about cardio, as in, “But when do I do cardio?” The-not-so-obvious answer is “ALL THE TIME!”

And I meant that both literally and facetiously. First, any time you are alive (which I really advocate for with all my clients :) your heart is pumping the product of your lungs' work (air) all around your body and back out. You are doing aerobic (cardio) work. Then, when you layer challenging tasks on top of that, like deadlifts, squats, sprints, sled work, kettlebells, etc. your cardiac system has to work extra hard just to get you back to the normal state (when you’re doing cardio).  Martin Rooney speaks very passionately about why this type of training is so effective.

And for many untrained folks, that extra work layered on top will be enough “cardio” to get them moving in the right direction. At some point though, especially for athletes or exercise junkies, having a stronger cardio base can be pretty helpful (mostly for recovery reasons--Molly Galbraith explains beautifully here). At that point, I do start to program in sporadic (~1x/wk) sessions on the treadmill or elliptical that aim for easy, long-distance effort. This allows the client's cardio system to adapt toward more efficient cardio output without the CNS/joint strain of intense conditioning work alone.

From a purely time-efficiency standpoint, I always prefer that people spend that time not in the gym.

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If that means taking a run/walk outside, or going on a hike, beautiful. But that still takes some time. If you can get in by riding or walking to and from work, you are completing your commute and your cardio at the same time. Does this replace lifting heavy shit? Absolutely not. Does it replace watching Lifetime movies on an elliptical machine at 9:15p on a school night? Let’s hope so.

Now, I would often run into one objection that took me a while to work through: “But I just like the me-time that comes from parking on a treadmill and drooling!” While this would usually comes from people who are not lifting heavy but are thinking that their long slow cardio alone will get them where they want to be, I could help just by making the weights-are-more-effective argument.

But really, I get the other bit too. Sometimes it’s just nice to zone out and feel the monotony of movement. Hell, I have run two marathons and totally got down with the meditative part of that practice.

But biking takes care of that too. You get on and ride, not worrying about how fast you go but just cruising. And I would even argue that the little bit of consciousness required to, you know, stay upright and out of the way of oncoming traffic actually stimulates that non-thinking-but-thinking state that is so beneficial. This is especially true the more you do that commute. Zen bike.

3. The GOOD part!: ...Which brings me to my last bit. I have been most surprised getting back on my bike in the last few weeks how fun biking is. Obviously, I get on the bike in the first place for time and money reasons, and I can groove on the cardio bit when I’m thinking about my weekly programming. But when it gets to it, the thing that brings me back is how good cruising around is for my soul.

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Whether I get to fly silently through an early morning, or slice-and-dice rush-hour city-center traffic, I love how smoothly my efforts push me over the road. I read somewhere once that the bicycle is the most efficient mode of transportation when all input (gas) and output (speed) is calculated, and I totally feel that. Add to that the gradual increase in efficiency that chronic biking does to your body and you have the makings for a seriously effective human-machine combo.

The final part that I have fallen in love with, though, is the change of pace that biking everywhere demands. Sure, a light bike and some fitness get you there pretty damn fast, but there is a groove that you find that is most definitely not a sprint. It’s like a mega-efficient stroll everywhere you go. During each trip, there’s time to look at the clouds, and the new cafe on the corner, yet  not enough to check your phone or to try to speed-walk (yuck).

Over the long-term, I feel more in touch with the weather, and the passing of the seasons in general. And it has made me rush everywhere less--if only because I don’t want to show up a sweaty mess--while giving me an appreciation for space and distance that I’m totally divorced from when I play the car video-game.

In general, biking just ties you in more. It gives you access to more of the juicy, fleshy parts of our every day. It might cost less, but it also makes everything else around you feel more valuable. See you out there.