2015
I figured it might be helpful to me at some point in my life if I journaled a little bit about this last year. Each year brings about new experiences and new perspectives. I really appreciate 2015, it was definitely one of my easier years despite needing to overcome a few challenges. The Reader's Digest version is that I lived a very blessed year and once again I could not have predicted it on January 1, 2015.
That is, other than the fact that I knew I'd turn 30 years old.
I remember imaging my life at 30-ish when I was asked in school to think about my life goals. When I was in middle school and I took my pen to paper to write about my future, where I might be as an adult, I really had no idea what to expect of myself. It makes sense that we wouldn't know. But coming from El Campo my perspective wasn't particularly broad. There's an advantage and disadvantaged to this. If you stick with all you can see, you reach for just what you see, and you don't travel particularly far from where you began. I won't label that as a bad thing, it just is what it is. But staying in one place for a long time gave me the opportunity (or forced me) to really pay attention to all the little things I had. I could explore the river bed for hours and hours. I knew every corner of my neighborhood, which trees were good for climbing, which neighbors would care if you jumped their fence, where to find loose change to buy a soda at the store, and where to ride my bike for the best jumps.
I never really had any specific goals, only directions I thought I might want to take. And they were broad. By high school I knew I liked to run so I'd probably keep that around as long as I could. I wanted to live in the mountains. I figured I would get some kind of professional education but didn't know what I would study. Despite what people will say about goal-setting, there's nothing wrong with not setting SMART goals. In some respect, setting very specific goals place very specific parameters on what it means to succeed and I don't believe that's the best way for people to live. Shit happens. I posted a few weeks ago about digging deep down to discover why we desire what we desire in the first place. I used the example that if I wanted my business to succeed, and I ask why, I eventually come to the conclusion that what I really want is to make a difference in the world. Now I could set goals for my business and bum out if I don't reach those goals precisely, or I can work in the direction of making a difference in the world, staying open to new opportunities and not letting my lack of imagination (or ability to predict the future) upset the ultimate desire that I have.
Take my running for example. Where I used to set specific goals regarding racing performances, I have now come to realize that what I really want out of my running is to enjoy nature and have that grounding experience that comes from exploring beautiful mother nature on my own two feet. I do not want to take my happiness and give it conditions. So if I sign up for a 100 mile race next year or do another Spartan race...it's all about the journey.
I started this year with a concussion. It was very rough on me for a few weeks, I couldn't work or exercise, I could barely do the things I needed to take care of myself. My heart rate was high all of the time and my blood pressure was so low I often felt like fainting. All I could do was paint pictures of nature, think positive, and take short barefoot walks. I relied on time and the power of nature to help me recover. In a moment when I felt like the answers of modern medicine were failing me (rather, they failed to recognize how bad my symptoms of TBI were), I drew inward to what I knew to be true...that the body will heal itself if allowed, that nature is an important part of our life, and that listening to my body would always trump what someone else told me about it. I was blessed to relearn this.
Eventually all this barefoot walking led to barefoot running. I was told I was crazy more times than I could count. I was even harassed by a co-worker who thought barefoot running was stupid and I shouldn't be teaching people how to do it safely (or run in minimalist shoes safely). But I knew I had recovered on my own, the way that nature intended me to recover, so I was not about to listen to an outsider with ulterior motives. A few months into barefoot running, I was able to start wearing thin sandals and maintain the same ideal running style. This allowed me to slowly get on the trails more which was my ultimate goal. I didn't care if I ran 4-5 minutes a mile slower than the pace I used to run, I was running trails again and without pain.
While I didn't care a lick about performance this year, I still had a few good performances. More importantly, I remained healthy and really enjoyed each mile and each moment. I finally finished the Dirty 30- ultra and the Pikes Peak Marathon. I became a Spartan champion. I paced a friend in the Leadville 100 and ran Imogene Pass. I started teaching others how to run better.
I have learned in the past couple decades since I tried to write down my future, that it's best to have a direction and not a specific destination. We don't know where life will take us. Today I am an Army Veteran (Reservist) and own a small business (possibly will own another one next year). I would have never dreamed of doing what I've done. I just lived my life like most of us do. There really is an art to going with the flow while still being you. Go in the direction you're most interested and stay open to everything you're going to learn. Don't limit yourself with a destination in mind, see where life takes you.
You don't have to be a fortune-teller unless you find that serves you.
That is, other than the fact that I knew I'd turn 30 years old.
I remember imaging my life at 30-ish when I was asked in school to think about my life goals. When I was in middle school and I took my pen to paper to write about my future, where I might be as an adult, I really had no idea what to expect of myself. It makes sense that we wouldn't know. But coming from El Campo my perspective wasn't particularly broad. There's an advantage and disadvantaged to this. If you stick with all you can see, you reach for just what you see, and you don't travel particularly far from where you began. I won't label that as a bad thing, it just is what it is. But staying in one place for a long time gave me the opportunity (or forced me) to really pay attention to all the little things I had. I could explore the river bed for hours and hours. I knew every corner of my neighborhood, which trees were good for climbing, which neighbors would care if you jumped their fence, where to find loose change to buy a soda at the store, and where to ride my bike for the best jumps.
I never really had any specific goals, only directions I thought I might want to take. And they were broad. By high school I knew I liked to run so I'd probably keep that around as long as I could. I wanted to live in the mountains. I figured I would get some kind of professional education but didn't know what I would study. Despite what people will say about goal-setting, there's nothing wrong with not setting SMART goals. In some respect, setting very specific goals place very specific parameters on what it means to succeed and I don't believe that's the best way for people to live. Shit happens. I posted a few weeks ago about digging deep down to discover why we desire what we desire in the first place. I used the example that if I wanted my business to succeed, and I ask why, I eventually come to the conclusion that what I really want is to make a difference in the world. Now I could set goals for my business and bum out if I don't reach those goals precisely, or I can work in the direction of making a difference in the world, staying open to new opportunities and not letting my lack of imagination (or ability to predict the future) upset the ultimate desire that I have.
Take my running for example. Where I used to set specific goals regarding racing performances, I have now come to realize that what I really want out of my running is to enjoy nature and have that grounding experience that comes from exploring beautiful mother nature on my own two feet. I do not want to take my happiness and give it conditions. So if I sign up for a 100 mile race next year or do another Spartan race...it's all about the journey.
I started this year with a concussion. It was very rough on me for a few weeks, I couldn't work or exercise, I could barely do the things I needed to take care of myself. My heart rate was high all of the time and my blood pressure was so low I often felt like fainting. All I could do was paint pictures of nature, think positive, and take short barefoot walks. I relied on time and the power of nature to help me recover. In a moment when I felt like the answers of modern medicine were failing me (rather, they failed to recognize how bad my symptoms of TBI were), I drew inward to what I knew to be true...that the body will heal itself if allowed, that nature is an important part of our life, and that listening to my body would always trump what someone else told me about it. I was blessed to relearn this.
Eventually all this barefoot walking led to barefoot running. I was told I was crazy more times than I could count. I was even harassed by a co-worker who thought barefoot running was stupid and I shouldn't be teaching people how to do it safely (or run in minimalist shoes safely). But I knew I had recovered on my own, the way that nature intended me to recover, so I was not about to listen to an outsider with ulterior motives. A few months into barefoot running, I was able to start wearing thin sandals and maintain the same ideal running style. This allowed me to slowly get on the trails more which was my ultimate goal. I didn't care if I ran 4-5 minutes a mile slower than the pace I used to run, I was running trails again and without pain.
While I didn't care a lick about performance this year, I still had a few good performances. More importantly, I remained healthy and really enjoyed each mile and each moment. I finally finished the Dirty 30- ultra and the Pikes Peak Marathon. I became a Spartan champion. I paced a friend in the Leadville 100 and ran Imogene Pass. I started teaching others how to run better.
I have learned in the past couple decades since I tried to write down my future, that it's best to have a direction and not a specific destination. We don't know where life will take us. Today I am an Army Veteran (Reservist) and own a small business (possibly will own another one next year). I would have never dreamed of doing what I've done. I just lived my life like most of us do. There really is an art to going with the flow while still being you. Go in the direction you're most interested and stay open to everything you're going to learn. Don't limit yourself with a destination in mind, see where life takes you.
You don't have to be a fortune-teller unless you find that serves you.
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