The Day Has Come

The beginning of my 41st year has started and its pretty interesting that I didn't feel much of a change at all.  There were several times today that I caught myself quickly thinking that I now tell people that I'm 40, but it really didn't bother me as much as I thought it would.  But I sit back and think about everything that has happened already this year, I have to say, it really has been incredible.  I something think that's an overused word, but I feel its fitting in this case.  

I've developed, with some very meaningful thought, a new appreciation for what I think will be pretty close to being the second half of my life.  I know that I understand so much more now and I have the ability to at least try to pass some of that on to my children.  They're especially going to like the trait I gift them of very high, afro-like, hair that most men my age covet.  For me its a blessing as instead of getting older with more distinguished graying hair, I just keep getting taller as it grows out.  

But this day, in retrospect, has made me ponder some of the great people I have in my life and how much I appreciate the influence they have had on me.  I truly am so fortunate to have been blessed with some of the most amazing people I know be my friends for decades.  I even asked said friends to remember some of the most compelling and profound times they had about me and what specific memory sticks out the most to them.  Here's a small sample:

• "By far, when you were in that break dancing class when you were 12."
• "You locked in the bathroom for the entire plane flight home after church street station"
• "Chubby skimboarder when you were 10."

There are actually some more graphic one's that I'll save for the book project but in all they are very telling and, at times, more meaningful than the above notes.  

With that, I digress; I start to come to the realization that Forty is an octagonal number, and as the sum of the first four pentagonal numbers, it is a pentagonal pyramidal number. Adding up some subsets of its divisors (e.g., 1, 4, 5, 10 and 20) gives 40, hence 40 is a semiperfect number. (Note: stolen from Wikipedia, I'm not that smart.)

I'm happy I'm 40 and happy that some people might actually take me seriously from here on out.  At least my graying and rising hair will give them something more to think about than "who is that old, chubby guy trying to skimboard."  Some things don't change.   

Motivation Is Not Enough

This past week I interviewed my most recent subject for Daddy's Desperate Attempt.  Doug Berlin, a 44 year old entrepreneur that has held two jobs his entire life.  His first, selling insurance.  His second and current, owner of a $10MM, three location enterprise that employs dozens of people and allows him the outlet to pursue one other passion.

He's a self diagnosed OCD sufferer that cant sit still, not even for his son's lacrosse practices/games; he's the coach.  Formerly a gym rat (his words, not mine) he found himself surrounded by people looking to lift heavy things, go out to binge drink and end the evening with some adult entertainment.  He played rugby in college but never ran any distance before because in rugby you typically run into the person in front of you and then run to the bar afterwards.  On a whim, he told his wife that he was going out to run one day.  So when he came home from that first 5 mile distance run, he decided he needed to actually by running shoes.

Flash forward 4 years, yes, only 4 years, and he's run marathons, 50 milers and 100 mile races.  He went from the level of aerobic activity of a tree to finishing his first marathon in 3:15.  Most people train their whole lives to  be able to run under 4 hours.  But really!!!  100 miles after only running for 4 years.  Doug vaguely discussed with me that during his most recent 100 miles, 22 hours, that he had a sprained ankle for the last 40 miles.  He's not proud, he's not gregarious or looking for notoriety.  Doug is searching for sufferance.

Motivation will only take you so far.  "Motivate yourself to get out of bed."  That's nothing.  What about motivating yourself to become the oldest person to be accepted into the Army's Special Forces?  That's Doug and the process he is going through now where he literally needs an act of Congress to get him the age waiver he needs to be accepted.  Its not enough that he's monetarily successful, has a wonderful and supportive wife, 4 children who love and adore him dearly and he's the biggest exercise stud you'll probably ever meet.  His motivation, or whatever you call it, goes to the point where he needs to drop all of that to serve our country and foster what seems to be some of the most compelling God given gifts a man can receive.

Doug seems to have a lot to do in our world.  His expense, his suffering, his fatigue, his motivation, his desire, his goal, his dream, his understanding of normal is so clear to him that it gives him the ability to go beyond motivation.  Motivation is working REALLY hard to do something you may or may not want to accomplish.  But Doug has paved a path for himself that essentially says, "I choose not to just work hard, but to go so far beyond my limits that I can find my soul, stare it in the face and decide how I am truly to live out my time on earth."

Liberating is probably an understatement for Doug.

The Gift of Plimpton

My cousin just sent me a video of George Plimpton and how he went about being one of the world's most esteemed reporters by actually participating in what he was writing about.  You may remember him for his cameo as the psychiatrist in Good Will Hunting.  

Plimpton would box a pro fighter, tame a lion, jump out of planes, and pitch to pro baseball players, all to get a story.  He needed first hand knowledge of an experience in order to truly understand how it feels to be that person.  However, when I told my cousin that I wanted to be Plimpton, he wrote back and said, "Dave, you are him."  I guess I am; in a much simpler way.  I'm desperately trying to find something this year and taking the time to write it down so when my children learn how to read, they'll understand what it was like for their father to turn 40.  I don't really feel like I have anything to prove but the more stuff I do, the more I seem to find out about myself.

May and Cowboy, when its time to read this, please understand that your Daddy is a little crazy.  Not in the clinical sort of way (self-diagnosed,) but in the socially unaccepted sort of way.  You already know what you're going to get when you follow someone, but when you have an original idea, an atypical thought, a path that is not easily traveled, the perception is that you're crazy.  Its super easy to go about your days and have a scoop of vanilla.  But will you ever know what its like to rent an old gas station and create your own flavors from scratch?

This past weekend, my wife and mother, with a lot of help from my closest friends, through me a surprise 40th birthday party in the middle of Central Park in NY.  I walked into a room crowded by love and was able to retrace my life from the day I was born.  Family and friends from every stage of my life, all in one room, celebrating my four decades.  I didn't have to run far or travel for hours to know that I had been molded to the person I am by the people that stood before me.  I had been loved by each soul and cared for by the absolute best people I have ever known.  It wasn't an accident that after 40 years I was able to stand in front of this group of people and realize that I didn't need much else.  I just wanted to be with them and hopefully we could smile and laugh as much as we normally do.

So May and Cowboy, even though it wasn't even my birthday yet, I knew that my presents had come to me over the previous 40 years.  Each time I met a new friend, spent time with a relative and had a chance to listen and explore their lives, my gifts became eternal.  I'm happy that I'm turning 40 and I'm happier that you both are my two sweetest gifts I have ever been given.

It Happened!

Day 5 of 8...still smiling

This time last week I was reveling in the fact that my daughter had just completed her first day of pre-k.  I used to laugh at "Those People" that had to tell everyone a play-by-play on their children's daily occurrences, but I couldn't contain myself on how cool it was that she was now excited to be going to classes everyday.

But what was really interesting to me is that the day before her first day of school, I was wearing shorts that I wore every day for the previous 10 days, hadn't showered in the same amount of days, nor shaved, and just happened to be in eastern Africa; Tanzania.  I couldn't help but start to realize that just 24 hours from one of the most important days of my parental experience, I was in a country where the average age of mortality is 51.  I knew that climbing Mount Kilimanjaro, the week before her school, was risking the chance to see her off on her first day and the dichotomy of worlds that I found myself was truly mesmerizing.

Kili was everything I that I never imagined.  I never imagined that walking an average of 5 miles a day would be so difficult.  I never imagined that walking, literally, a foot's length stride at a time would be difficult.  I never imagined that being with 5 of my best friends for 10 straight days would make you feel like you were twelve again; but I feel that way every time I'm with them anyway.  But I most of all never thought that even after all these years of knowing each other, after the unbelievable life experiences we have shared, after 3 years of detailed, military precision-like logistical planning for this once-in-a-lifetime, epic adventure, we would still only have three topics to discuss during the hours of getting to the top of Africa; farting, pooping and farting.

I was with some of the most well traveled people that I know.  We have experienced some of the world's most interesting aspects of life and the mere fact that our basic "needs" were the center of attention garnered some of the most interesting conversations I have ever had.  Its amazing to know that when your day's goal is to safely ascend the highest mountain on a continent and support the efforts to get to that summit, you begin to realize that most of the other BS that we focus on in a given day is immaterial and irrelevant.  I/we were most concerned with eating, or not eating, the right foods, taking the right medicine, wearing the right clothes (for practical purposes) and for getting enough sleep; all in the name of the rear end bodily function.  Putting yourself in compromising positions, even in front of your best friends, makes for very uncomfortable hiking, tent sleeping, group discussions, enclosed area meetings, open area meetings, and everything in between.

It was really hard to believe that such a short time ago, I accomplished one of the main events of my 40th year's schedule and the main outcome of our discussions was that I didn't even use an entire roll of toilet paper.  I should have used (insert one of my best friend's name here) advice who used three rolls.

Happy to be home and yes, I do now bow to the thrown.

When Do You Become an Adult?

Turning forty, as many of us have realized, has been a time of reflection on how much of an adult you have become.  Many of us own a home, negotiate the purchase of our own cars, decide on where to vacation, where to eat, how the bills get paid and maybe even become a parent.  Its interesting to finally understand that for roughly half of our lives, someone else, typically a parent, made the majority of our decisions for us.  Its only been roughly 20 years since we've had full reign of our destiny on a daily basis.  For those that have been to their 20+ year high school reunion, we know that those decades have passed faster than we ever thought possible.

But does the age of majority truly start at 18?  This past week, for me at least, I found out that being an adult starts at 39.  For me, I have found that I am truly an adult with the passing of my father about a week ago.  I am no longer able to have a chance to ask for advice and I am unable to have a living historian of my life a phone call away.  Not that he ever really played those roles for me, but having the comfort of knowing that I could at least ask someone some questions, some deep-rooted and meaningful questions, gave me a little comfort, because I was so young then; just one week ago.  I understand now that I was truly a child, someone's child.  I can understand that I no longer have the privilege of falling under the auspices of an older generation.  Even though I am extremely close to my mother, we speak daily (inset your umbilical cord comments here) I now feel that I am THE generation.

I became an adult this week...Three months before my 40th birthday.  I wish I could have stayed a child for a lot longer.

What Are Those Two Circles?

After almost a week in the NC mountains, living without air conditioning (because you don't need it,) sleeping without medication (because you don't need it,) and eating whatever is in front of you (because...,) I started to see how my children perceive summer vacation.  It became blatantly apparent to me that summer is truly the culmination of the entire year.  I'm not sure why God put summer in the middle of year so we just get confused as to when the year actually starts and ends.  If He just made the hot/fun months from October - December, then we could start the year in January with school and work until the beginning of "Summer" at the end of September.  Summer would run its course for the remainder of the year and then January rolls around again for school.

But noooooooooo.  Mittendrinen (please Google for my gentile friends), we have to have summer right in the middle of everything.  This just shows that Julius Cesar was as vain as they come; naming the most fun month, July, after himself and putting it at a time of the year where everyone is looking forward to saying his name all time.  "Let's wait until July to go on vacation, I can't wait until July so I don't have to be in school, lets not pay the electric bill until July" (maybe not that one.)  But you get the picture.

All kids do is look forward to the summer!!!  I was/am one of those kids.  I loved that July brought me the time to go on a hike with family.  I loved that we were forced to talk to each other and sing songs with each other.  I loved that we can stay up late and tell stories to each other.  In actuality, I thank Julius, and God, for giving me the summer in order to remind me how important it is to just BE with one another.

So there I am, on the phone with my wife, recapping their summer day and she says to me, "your daughter (4 years old) looked at the dog as it was walking away from her and asked, 'what are those two circles on the bottom of the dog?'"  Another reason that summer is so special...the endless learning opportunities.

¿Dónde está el baño!

Its 3a and the cell phone alarm 2 feet from my head goes off, much to the dismay of my wife.  I know that you're not supposed to keep your cell phone that close to you at night, but I wouldn't hear it if it was any farther away.  I have that very meaningful conversation with myself that we all have first thing in the morning of how I would be able to rearrange the day's tasks if I just got another hour of sleep.  After some self-negotiating, I decided to just get up and see what happens.

When you run that early in the morning, there is a lot of time to think.  I purposely don't bring the iPod because there are so few moments in life where there is little to no noise.  3a runs are some of those moments and I'm learning to treasure them.  I find myself rehashing what I thought, at each moment, were insignificant events in my life; where is the neighbor, that lived down my street when I was 4, that was always so nice to our family?, why do I remember what I was wearing to school on a particular day in 6th grade?, what about the time that my mother told me not to point at the obese woman across the street, I was 3 then?, or how about running down a silent street in the dark with the sudden urge to use the facilities...any facilities!!!...that was when I was 39 on June 15.  Somehow that is the most vivid for me.  There are really few things more motivating then a desperate need to find a bathroom.  Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about.  When everyone sees the roll of toilet paper I have rolling around in the back seat of my car, they all comment on how good of an idea that is to have there.  Just make sure you tell people you got the idea from me.

Having just returned from a few days in the Dominican Republic with some old and new friends, I began to think that this year is half over.  Years of planning, travel arrangements, logistics, coordination, training, begging, feeling guilty for leaving my family...its half way there.  I feel better during runs, swimming is easier, hell...getting up in the morning is getting easier.  I now feel like its working, that part of me is turning back the imaginary clock I have in my mind.  I know that most people think this year is a ridiculous bout of midlife crises, but its really turning out to be my best year ever.

Kili No Mo

Today I found out that one of the six team members of this summer's Kili climb is unable to make the trip. Uncle John, as my daughter calls him, not in a prostitute sort of way, let us know that his boss wont give him the time off.  He will only be one month shy of the end of his project and the word came today that he is going to serve every last day of his duty.

Its very telling that while we've been planning for three years for this trip, one person can stand in the way of your dream.  Its a good lesson; most of us think we're in control of our lives, but its clear that most of us are naive to think that.

So then there were five.  Five knuckleheads traipsing across the earth to get together and have a beer at the end of their most prolific trip of their lives.  Paying for the Skype upgrade to have multiple users would have been easier.  But you can see the desperation in voices as we try and share our training regimes with each other to try and get an edge on the pain that we're about to inflict on ourselves.  In any case, we're in; flights made, deposits are nonrefundable, clothing purchased, satellite phone ordered, climbing advice received and estate planning is being secured.  We're off to see the....

HDLs Going Down

Summer planning is well underway and I'm starting to feel overwhelmed by it all.  While I've accomplished almost half of the events that I've set out to do already, the REAL feats come in August, September and October of this year.  The logistics of me going to Africa for Kili followed by NY with the family make me feel like I'm planning for my first State Dinner at the White House.

We just had our most recent conference call with all six of the Kili participants on the phone at the same time.  Pretty amazing given that we're juggling 12 times zones.  Our group essentially depicts all maturity phases of my life (Name purposely withheld); Starting with my friend from when I was 5 and we have done everything together our entire lives and he is now an ER doctor, two more friends from when I was 8 that coincidentally are both in health care at some of the highest levels, another friend that I met when I was 17 and decided to travel the world for a while instead of going to college and finally, a college friend who is now in Afghanistan serving his 23rd year in the Army. Its going to be a great trip.

In any case, I was called back to the doctor a couple of weeks ago to do a follow up on my cholesterol and believe it or not, my levels have gone went down.  While I still have to watch the diet, my pants seem to fit a little better these days and I can wear a tie for longer periods without being too uncomfortable.  Exercising is getting a little easier and I'm finding that I actually need it...if I dont get it, I get cranky.

All in all, there seems to be some positive effects to early mornings, early evenings, training time and family time.

The interviews are becoming more and more interesting.  Recently spoke to a woman in the Washington, DC area that has lost 60 pounds since she started exercises all while running her own business and experiencing the wrath of her verbally abusive husband for being overweight.  She completely impressed me with her honesty of how she feels about herself now and contrasting that with her self-image before the weight loss.

I love the fact that my friends and family are following this journey and, at the very least, entertaining me with an "at a boy" when I see them at different events.  I've received a lot of encouragement from total strangers and all seem to be simultaneously curious, envious and stupefied by my 40th year.  I appreciate the comments and look forward to reading and responding.  We'll see how this all plays out, one way or another.

If I had $5,000....(BNL Music)

Ring Ring Ring

Dave:  Hello
Slob:  Hey man, what's up?
Dave:  Nada mucho, y tu?
Slob: We got a hotel room for the race but wanted to coordinate with you and stuff
Dave:  What are you talking about?
Slob:  The race in two weeks, I'm bringing the family and we got a hotel room
Dave:  I have no idea what you are saying; what race?
Slob: The triathlon we signed up for six months ago.
Dave:  I signed up for a triathlon that's in two weeks?
Slob:  Yep, I'm sending you the link so you can see your name on the website.
Dave:  I have no desire to do a triathlon in two weeks, I'd rather you get a running start and kick me in the nuts as hard as you can
Slob:  I would if you had any nuts to kick
Dave:  Good one.  Well, as long as you're going to be here, just stay at our house so we can at least carpool to this so called race you think I'm signed up for.
Slob:  Cool, see you then....

And so it went, the Slobs came to visit us and actually proved that I signed up for a triathlon.  Over three thousand people registered and everyone but me was excited to be there.  I felt like a grumpy old man:
-The lines are too long
-I have to walk too far to get my bike
-I have to wait too long to start the race (The winner finished before I even started, no lie)

But as I watched wave after wave of people I began to notice a progression in age.  Like most races, you start with people that are at or near your ability level.  With over 3000 people, that meant that they had roughly 30 different waves that went off in 5 minute increments.  I got a good view of about 15 of those waves and saw men and women of different ages start their slumber towards justifying the t-shirt they received the day before.  I started noticing a lot of patterns too;

1.  Men in age groups from 20 - 30 years old have a lot of tattoos
2.  Men in age groups from 40 - 50 have a lot of body hair in weird places
3.  Women of all ages are more polite to each other as they begin the thrashing of a mass swim start
4.  Men seem a little less conscience of the weird shapes of their bodies as they get older
5.  It seems that you need to spend about $5,000 on a bike to feel good about yourself these days

As I got into the transition area where all the bikes await their owners like little puppies in the window of the pet shop, I couldn't help but notice that there was millions of dollars in leisure equipment just laying around.  There was so much expensive hardware there this weekend it made me a little sad that the average person had been convinced somewhere along the way that even though they are getting older now and had to "compete" in individual sports, the way to make themselves happier was to purchase an eighteen gram crotch rocket that slices through the air.  There I was, borrowed bike, running shorts (no spandex), and a great sense of urgency to run as fast as I could so my wife wouldn't be late for an appointment she had immediately following the race and I could stay in her good graces.  Hey, everyone has a different motivation.

The finish line is nearing and there is my family on the final turn, screaming and yelling for Daddy.  The scowl that I had for the previous three hours immediately changed to shear joy and I grabbed my daughter so we could run the last 100 yards together and cross the finish line holding hands and pumping our fists.  You want to know why I'm "clinging to my youth?," so I can experience that moment for as many years as possible.  I will remember the crowd's cheers for us and her face forever.

View 2100

I started this project with the simple understanding that I would try and find out what it would take to prove to my children that their Daddy still has "it."  Showing the kids, through text, what it was like when their father turned 40 ultimately came with the challenge of many athletic events and subsequent interviews with other people that may have done interesting things at roughly the same age.  With a little more than a quarter of the year complete, I've found out so much more.

I have found that I can find a toy to step on at any time of the day.  I have found that there is not a snotty nose in our house that can't find me, and ultimately my shirt, as I leave for work each morning.  I have found that the time I spend alone training in order to prove something to my children only makes me feel guilty for being alone and not being with them.  I have found that baby monitors can easily be turned off in the middle of the night.  I have found that I get cranky when I don't exercise and is a trait I'm not sure I want to pass down.  I have found that spandex is like the Adam Sandler of clothing; you just know its going to be funny especially the longer you watch.  I have found that the more I find interesting people to interview, the less interesting I become.  I have found that Facebook makes me wonder what will be available to our children when they are my age.  And I have finally found that there are over 2100 people that have read this blog since it was started; poor people, they should stick to Facebook.

Race number three is coming this weekend and the interview schedule is growing.  Wish me luck on all fronts and let me know if you have any comments for me.

Pleasantville and Morning Blow

Walking around Pleasantville (my neighborhood) this past weekend with both kids in tow (the three year old walking with me and the little one in the stroller), I had a very suburban moment when I saw a neighbor, who is probably in his late 30's or early 40's and fairly fit looking, blowing the grass off of his driveway after the obligatory Saturday mow.  He's wearing what all of us suburbanites wear; khaki shorts, an untucked, 15 year old polo shirt with an outdated insignia on the left chest and a baseball hat from when we were both much cooler than we are now.  As he noticed us approaching he slowed down the blowing speed from very slow to essentially an annoying noise maker to make himself look busy which subsequently lowered the decibel level to one that was manageable for conversation.  (Insert pleasantries here.)

After our brief conversation and encounter, one comment he made stuck with me..."just out getting some exercise."  Exercise!!!  Out Getting Some Exercise???!!!!  I just couldn't help think that I am killing myself to shed a pound or two to get off the US Government's obese scale and our neighborhood hair-dryer operator just has to go out for a morning blow.  Is that fair?!  It obviously doesn't matter if its fair; while he blows, I still have to trudge through the darkness, for hours at a time on most mornings, so I can feel less guilty about eating a bagel for breakfast.

This summer break from my planned events is actually making my time busier with logistics.  I'm still interviewing a lot of interesting people from all of the world and look forward to hearing stories of how work, family and life are balanced from places as far off as India.  Please let me know if you have anyone that you think would be a good candidate for an interview.

Also, I've been banned from more websites now.

I Can Hear Myself Getting Slower

Logic would make one think that with the running of a half Ironman triathlon, a few days in Lake Tahoe at altitude and plenty of rest, that I would feel like I was in pretty good shape.  On the contrary my brother, aka Au contraire mon frere.  I feel like I  have actually gained weight, I feel like I run slower and my dunlap (used in a sentenence and as defined on onlineslangdictionary.com as something to the effect of "My belly dunlapped my belt.") has become more pronounced.  


I interviewed Drew Barnes this week.  Drew is the famous mechanical engineer that works for Northrop Grumman and travels back and forth to CA from FL every week.  Drew was actually my first interview of someone that hasn't made a name for themselves completely in their athletic endeavors.  However, he has, as a 40 year old, accomplished many.  With 4 home-schooled kids between the ages of 19 and 3 and an obvious superstar wife, he works for one of the worlds most notable defense contractors where he commutes to CA every week, while also competing and training for endurance events.  It was amazing to hear how his quest for and attempts to engage in the unknown allowed him the motivation to complete so many of life's experiences without missing any time with his family.  


Where does that drive come from?  Drew told me but I'm going to wait until the end of this year to summarize my findings.  In the meantime, please see what I aspire to by the end of this year:

Two Big Weeks - One Tired Daddy

Its been a big couple of weeks as I have continued to explore my 40th year.  You may remember that in my "events" blog post of January 20, 2011 I highlight a half Ironman triathlon in Sarasota, FL that I must complete in less than seven hours in order to participate in another event on my list in September of this year.  The boring details of race day I will spare, but lets just say that this guy had twenty minutes to spare and the winner out-sprinted me at the finish by a mere two and half hours.  Event Number Two...check.

A couple of days later, I walk on a plane with my immovable tree trunk legs, more like a waddle with some zest, and fly to Boulder, CO, via Denver, to begin the interview phase of this year's project.  While I continue to seek interesting people that have accomplished so much by the age of 40 while balancing the rest of their lives, some of the initial interviewees are fairly notable in their pursuits.  Interview number one was almost a no-brainer; Dave Scott.  At the age of 40, in 1994, he got second place at the Hawaii Ironman Triathlon.  The layperson probably doesn't remember who got first that year, Greg Welch, but I'm sure that there is a large population of people who understand that a 40 year old was able to truly compete that day.  My hour with Dave was extremely informative of the challenges of competing with life, family, athletics and business.  If you don't know this story, here is a summary (video on blog, starts about 1:50) of Dave's efforts on one particular day.  Great guy but I should have asked about the mustache that he no longer has.

Not wanting to solely focus on one person on that trip, I also had the privilege to also meet with Joanna Zeiger Shenk.  Joanna, now 41 agreed to meet with me at a local Boulder Starbucks because I'm pretty sure its freaky when some wacko, no-name interview guy asks to speak with you about turning 40.  I would have chosen a public place myself.  Joanna is an Olympian, an Ironman winner and in her spare time earned a Ph.D. in Genetic Epidemiology from Johns Hopkins University.  Joanna was extremely gracious with her time even though, two days prior, she ran the LA Marathon in a torrential downpour for the entire race where she ultimately acquired hypothermia.  Did I mention that she was only 60 seconds slower than her lifetime fastest  marathon time (which was when she was 29), even with the conditions presented her.  She writes about it in her blog (fast at forty); or glob as my mother calls it.

After my day in Boulder, I got back on the plane where I then flew to Lake Tahoe for a week with my best friends.  There aren't too many things better than being with twenty people, all in one house, where you can be yourself with no ramifications...none.  Here is our driveway after a couple of days of being there.

Last note: I love the fact that I continue to receive endless ridicule from a small, but very "vocal" group about this project.  Its gotten to the point where people think that I am making this whole thing up.  To this group, its like I am writing that I woke up one day and decided to do 10,000 one arm push-ups while simultaneously reflecting, in Latin of course, on Reagan's response to the Iran Contra Affair.  I have now been banned by www.slowtwitch.com, www.beginnertriathlete.com and www.trifuel.com.  Its interesting to note that all other athletic forums have been genuinely interested and supportive.

Shark Bait

With my ultimate goal of not disrupting the family during my search of what happens on the road to 40, I usually have to have some semblance of exercise before everyone wakes up.  Seeing that my daughter is getting up earlier and earlier as she gets older, Daddy usually has to be mobile when there is a 3 on the clock.  Pretty soon I'm going to be eating breakfast the night before, lunch at 7a and dinner at noon.  Its kind of like living in Boca Raton when you're 80; all I need is a Cadillac with a Presidential Edition insignia in gold on the side.

With one week until my first half ironman, I thought it might be a good idea to try out the wetsuit that I haven't worn since 2002.  It has looked so cool in my closet this whole time; all black neoprene with wide shoulders and contoured waist dangling through several closet moves with memories of when I felt comfortable wearing a wetsuit in public.  Its really going to be a shame to actually have to put it on.

I went to the pool at 3.30a and entered the empty locker room that was surprisingly open at that hour.  The bench, where I normally change my clothes, is parallel to a full length mirror where I am forced to ultimately stare at how time has altered this wight.  But there I was, 3.30a, jumping up and down in an empty locker room trying to fit into a time capsule.  Once the leg hairs were completely removed as I was able to get the body cast up to my waist I was actually pretty impressed with what I saw.  Try to picture a cross of Dr. Bruce Banner when he gets angry with Fred Berry (See video) in his prime.

When reality set in is when I needed to get things over the middle.  Trying to figure out if I should put my arms in first or pull things over my gut, I went with arms in the sleeves, which seemed like boys size extra small at this point, and pulled things up over my chest.  With an enormous amount of zeal, I felt as if there should be a huge banner behind me reading "Mission Complete."  I'm now sweaty, alone, in a locker room (that in itself is always a bad connotation) and looking in the mirror at the sole reason why people are mistaken for seals while surfing.

Lets hope the race this weekend is well worth the self inflicted ridicule of why a 3.30a inflated wetsuit swim is a character building exercise.

Wacko and Me

How many people in your life could you call up, after not seeing them for over a decade, and say, "Meet me in the middle of nowhere-Florida at 11p on a Friday, I know its your birthday, and come volunteer at a triathlon where people started exercising at 7a that morning?"  Really...how many?  Twenty?  Ten?  Zero?  I have three and only one took me up on the offer.  The nerve of the others?!

There we were, me and Wacko, standing at the end of a partially paved path in the middle of a state park, .875 miles from the center of the all the action, as we were the support crew for the run turnaround of Florida's first Double Ironman Triathlon.  Yes, a 4.8 mile pool swim, 224 mile bike on a 6.5 mile loop course and a 52.4 mile run on a 1.75 mile out-and-back path was occurring and we took the midnight shift to make sure the 17 entrants ran around the cone that was at the edge of the shadow of the one light bulb we had with us.  Clocking their splits, giving them feedback on their timing and making sure all of them knew that they were on last leg of their long journey was our directive from the race director who gave us complete autonomy to try and figure out why these people kept coming back to see us about every 20 minutes.

I couldn't help but notice the drastically different demeanors of each person within the field.  There were those who were super serious and were hours ahead of the others and there were those who were chatty and actually kind of happy.  I couldn't believe it.  Then there was Marcel Knaus, 41 years old, from Furstentum, Liechtenstein; I hope he now accepts my Facebook friend request.  Coming from a country that is smaller than Aruba but a hair larger than Jersey (the British Crown Dependency, not the armpit of America) Marcel finished the race in first place with a time of 22:40, over an hour faster then the second place finisher.  Who knew that Liechtenstein was such a powerhouse of Double Ironman Athletes.  It seems that Marcel had some foresight and controlled the domain http://www.marcelknaus.li before anyone else could get their hands on it if you want to check it out.

Wacko and I got to catch up on the last decade and it seemed that there wasn't one day that had past since we had last seen each other.  Actually, 2a came a little two fast for me and I didn't get the chance to see Marcel finish (or hang out enough with Wacko), but I knew that the family was home waiting for me as we were running a 5k together, our first as a family, in six hours and there was no where more that I'd rather be than watching my kids cross a finish line.

I (Heart) Gravity...Sometimes

My daughter gave me a bracelet to wear last week that I proudly put on as I was honored that she even asked.  The red, white and green sparkle beads glistened under my work shirt, as May calls it, and the reindeer charm that dangled outside of my suit jacket was the accent that really gave me that "pop."  It was the coolest thing I had on and I know people were staring at it as I also had to deliver some remarks to about 150 people last Friday.  If they weren't listening to what I had to say, at least they were paying attention to me and my bracelet as I tried to talk with my hands as much as possible to make sure that they knew that May was right there with me.

After my talk, I raced to the airport, changed in the car (I was the weirdo in the parking lot that day) and caught my plane to Asheville, NC to "race" in the Mount Mitchell Challenge the next morning.  One of the greatest races I have ever entered.  Think midtown Manhattan at rush hour, in the summer, in the back of a cab with no air conditioning...on opposite day.  This race is all about friendly people, great organization, outstanding views and we got as lucky as you can get with the sunny and cool weather.

However, long story short, I am not a runner.  When the police car escort passed me at mile .5, yes half a mile into the 40 mile course, I knew this was going to be a severely long day.  I never ran a mile under 10:30 pace (I averaged 16 minute miles) because I was completely incoherent as to the complexity of this course.  When people gave me advice to train on hills, I decided to muscle my way through a well manicured golf course in the dark.  When a race organizer said I should get to a mountain before the race, I felt the local parking garage would suffice.  Needless to say, the rocks, roots, inclines, slippery slopes, altitude and intermittent ice patches forced me to concentrate on, literally, every step I took that day.

I couldn't believe that ANYONE would be able to run at a fast pace in these conditions.  All I kept thinking about was tweaking an ankle, head-butting a boulder as I fell from tweaking an ankle or why I was running with a great group of people that were 20 years older than me, yet able to keep a conversation going for hours.  I made it to mile 14, the checkpoint where if you didn't get there by 3 hours or less then you were turned around to head back to town, and realized that I was at hour 4 of the race.  It was the first time, in my life, that I actually thought of dropping out of race.  I kept thinking that the people here are so nice, so friendly, they feed me, give me drinks, (They were the equivalent of the first person in high school who could drive; everyone wanted to be with them) so why would I want to go back on the course.  The words were on the tip of my tongue...."I quit."  I knew how easy it would be to say those words to them and they wouldn't judge me.  I knew that that crew would take care of me as I was suffering through my highly unprepared outing.

So May, thank you!  Thank you for giving me your bracelet to wear.  Thank you for giving me the reminder I needed to leave that place and the chance to not say anything at all as I grabbed a handful of Costco Trail Mix, groop as we call it at home, stuff my mouth and run away from the comfort of the heated leather seats I knew would give me the false impression that everything was better.  Your bracelet, May, reminded me that this was for you and Cowboy.  I will endure the pain of the next 12 downhill miles as my quads cramp, my toes push into the front of my shoes, my big toenail becomes blacker and I essentially stumble to the finish line.

That day wasn't my best day, as the billy goats, the rest of the runners who didn't seem to complain as much as me about the course as they eased into a physiologic morning rhythm, crossed the finish line with the same bright smile as each person before them.  My smile, when I crossed, was as big as theirs...I knew I got to see you the next morning and thank you, in person, for the reindeer bracelet.

Daddy's Desperate Attempt to Cling To His Youth: Comments Gone Wild

Have you ever seen the slow motion version of the video highlighting the Secret Service agents that were protecting President Reagan the day they saved his life?  I'm also picturing Michael Jordan, in his prime, orchestrating the most beautiful ballet of grace and poise on the basketball court with what seems to be an effortless display of dramatic war to get a ball in a basket.  Or what about listening to the arguments for the 2000 Presidential Election and happening to get a glimpse of David Boies, Al Gore's attorney, as he was so skillfully orating to the US Supreme Court with a very polite, hour and a half diatribe that made it seem like he was reading a poem to his wife; we all know the outcome though.  Maybe the simplest visual is a doctor working a triage situation with essentially one focused goal; save lives.

In each case there is this incredible level of instinct, of passion, of thoughtlessness that translates to a level of production that makes you clearly believe that some people are intuitively born to perform.  They don't have to think, they don't look at notes, they don't understand that they are under a great amount of pressure and they clearly believe that they are solely responsible for that moment.

When it comes to completing the events to commemorate my 40th year, I am not one of these people.  Quite the contrary; I think about everything.  Am I going to wear the right shoes?, what should I eat two days before?, should I wear a backpack or try and wing it with aid stations?  Should I bring a camera to take photos of a place that I probably will really enjoy or will that be too much weight to carry and ultimately slow me down enough that I don't make the 3 hour/15 mile cut off which would ultimately turn me around to head back the finish line failing to complete the entire race?  For this I am overly thoughtful, I am trying to be overly prepared and I want to get past that 15 mile mark so I can finish what I intended.

Its been almost two months since I started and I truly don't feel like an athlete.  I see myself as more of a guy trying to be truthful to himself.  "I put it writing so I have to do it" sort of thing.  Lets hope that changes, because if it doesn't, then I'm just what some of this blog's readers have commented about me:

WCR says: "Lesson to the kids:  Make sure you draw attention to yourself at every opportunity.  Under no circumstance should you work hard towards a goal without letting everyone know what you're doing and soliciting kudos."


DeenafromClevelar says: "Considering the OP's other post, I believe he is having a mid-life crisis."


Lovethehalf: "Yep.  Anyone who thinks they'll inspire others with their running is delusional.  Mostly, others think you're nuts.  In the interest of fairness, it is quite possible that they are correct."

I'm looking forward to this weekend and getting to that starting line, thoughts, comments and all.

http://daddysdesperateattempt.blogspot.com/

Twitter: @daddysdesperate

Dear May and Cowboy

Daddy had an interesting week.  Now that I am slowing down the training so I can rest more for the upcoming http://www.blackmountainmarathon.com/ I definitely feel that I am highly unprepared for this first adventure to my 40th year.  This is a good lesson for me that while I have a good base, I am truly in no shape to be "running" 40 miles.  I guess what I can pass on from this is that doing part of your homework is not the same as doing your  homework.  I know that I'll be on a mountain somewhere begging for mercy as I try to save face for having even signed up for this.

I have also learned that 40 miles is nothing...compared to others.  I have a friend who ran 100 miles a couple of weeks ago in under 18 hours.  I also am learning about people who have done a double deca ironman triathlon, 20 times the distance of an ironman (48 mile swim, 2240 mile bike, 524 mile run), of which only 10 people started last year and not sure how many finished and they only have 28 days to do it all.  By the way, the winner gets $2000, which equates to roughly $4.00/hour if you are counting.  I guess that's pretty good since my first job as a dishwasher at 14 years old yielded $3.35/hour.  I should have gotten into double deca ironman winning business in order to increase my tax return.

I feel like the lesson is that there will always be someone willing and able to do something greater than you.  Even the most accomplished and successful people realize that they typically have one day, after all of their preparation, to do something great...to perform...to amaze and to win.  On that one day, they can be the best at anything.  But there will be another day where someone else will want that spot, will want what you have and will want to take it from you.  You cant be the best forever, but I guarantee it will be interesting if you ever are, even for just one day.

I also went to a funeral this week.  Aunt Carole passed away.  While you may not remember her as you grow older, Daddy will always have great stories for you to keep her memory alive.  She was so sweet, thoughtful, kind, funny and she loved asking about you guys and finding out how you were growing up.  She was super cool and she will be missed by so many.

Please understand that people will come and go in your life.  You may have a chance to spend a minute with them or in some cases, a lifetime.  However, in either case, I know that you'll always remember them, no matter how minuscule the interaction.  Something throughout your day, at any moment, will make you recall a specific moment in time that accentuates the time, day, smells, lighting and emotion of a period that may have seemed insignificant at the time.  I remember, when I was 4, a neighbor down my street that took me with his kids to Burger King after I invited myself to go...they just moved to the neighborhood.  I remember my mother, GG, running out of our house and chasing me with a dark blue, cardigan sweater when I screamed towards the house that I would be going to the Burger King with the new neighbors.  I also remember sitting in the Burger King and these new neighbors being very quiet eaters; probably thinking that they made a mistake moving to our street now that little 4 year olds think they can do whatever they want.  This is a special gift that we all have and is probably given us to remember where we came from so we can attempt to humble ourselves as life tries to change us.

Running 40 miles next week will, most likely, generate so many memories for me.  But I am more excited to experience the memories already instilled in me through the hours and hours of effort and quiet.  I plan to think of you a lot that day.  I hope that by my running and learning, I can become a better father for you.

I love you.

Daddy

The KGB Is On To Me

When I lift my shirt and look down, especially when I am running and use the bottom of my shirt to wipe the sweat from my face, my gut sticks out bilaterally just below my belly button.  Not very far, but enough to make the two raised humps look like a little booty.  Couple that with the hair that grows north to the belly button and I have the cousin to the much larger version around the corner.  Can you imagine that this is all I can come up with as I'm trudging around the golf course for my second to last long run before the first event for my fortieth year?  That is the deep, contemplative thought I have when I am spending endless hours by myself trying to find out what I have learned over the previous 40 years and how I can make the next forty that much better.  This is going to be a long year...

At 2a on a Saturday, I awoke and put on the running shoes to start the 20 mile trek I wanted to get in before everyone woke up.  I'm still trying not to let any of my aspirations get in the way of my family life as I think its highly unfair to everyone else.  Do you think its strange that there is a grown man running the streets of a planned community at 3a?  4a?  5a?  6a?  If you don't, the KGB does.  For four and a half hours, the security guards (KGB) of said community followed me like I was in Rocky IV.  I kept picturing myself doing wind-sprints through the snow in an effort to try and lose the KGB from watching my every move.  I kept thinking that my run had such meaning to this country that armed men needed to be aware of my intentions.  What it looked like though was me slowly sauntering around manicured lawns in a partial daze, effervescent and freshly planted flowers permeating through the recently sprinklered landscape that was making me whiplash with each new house as I strolled by, and limping past newly purchased Jaguars and Bentleys as they sat in their driveways like they were two best friends happy to have finally found their soul mate.  Maybe that is why the KGB wanted to know why a 39 year old man is awake and running by himself through "Fantasy Land" in the dark. I ultimately took it as a compliment because I wanted to feel like I was highly intimidating to someone.  Silly rabbit, tricks are kids.

I finished just as everyone was waking up and my wife was really wondering where I went.  It seems that her husband forgot to tell her that he wanted to run that morning, so when she spent the night in an empty bed, she ultimately wanted to know where I was.  Who's being selfish now?  I was sore, tired, chaffed in highly uncomfortable places and happy that I was able to run 20 miles.  Now I just need to double that and run the first half uphill and I'll be totally fine.

I've also made some headway with some exceptional people to interview this year.  While my journey will be an interesting one, I am more interested to hear how others have fared on their walk to 40 and what they may have accomplished before, during and after this potentially arbitrary number.  I have two interviews with some superstar athletes that have accomplished so much in and out of their sports by the age of 40.  I'm excited to find other people as well who can really add to the mix; so let me know if you know if anyone...they don't have to be famous...but maybe to you they are.