Governor Begone!

David Goggins opened my mind to a new idea in his book: the governor. Goggins explained how older cars used to have what was called a “governor” on their engines. This device would prevent the car from going above a certain speed, thereby keeping everything running smoothly. But the good news for those who like to push the limits? The governor can be removed, allowing the car to really go fast.

Goggins’ point was that we all have governors on our minds. We have this built in function that keeps us from reaching our genetic potential. It’s there so we don’t get hurt, but it’s holding us back. So if we really want to be great we gotta get rid of that governor.

So we can go fast.

And leave no stone unturned.

I am a Phoenix

I feel myself changing, like I’m entering a new chapter of my life.  My undergraduate career is nearly complete and so is my time spent working for somebody else.  This blog you’re reading is hosted on flowtrainingfit.com, the business Paul and I created from nothing.  We just released our first training program, Bodyweight Training: Reimagined.  We work for ourselves now. This changes everything.

I am being born again, regenerated after my long life lived as someone else.  I express gratitude for what has brought me here but also sadness—a part of me is dying and I have to watch him pass.  I liked that old version of myself, but this next one will be more free, more creative, and have more time to do the thing he loves.

I am a Phoenix, and it won’t be long before I die again.

Variables of Success

Most people live average lives. They settle for the status quo, the safety-and-security model, the retire at 65 to enjoy the final years of life charade. To feel comfortable and understood they surround themselves with like-minded people who don’t challenge them or rustle any feathers. The majority would rather be adequate than grow through challenge. They are finished learning when they finish school, rare to pick up a book and learn something fresh. They don’t realize it, but this average life devolves into a mediocre existence rather quickly.

But there’s some who are the oil in the sea of water—their determination to grow far exceeds their longings for comfort and a Social Security check. Retirement doesn’t fit their stories—life is too rich and new challenges provide too much growth to ever lose enticement. We often call these challenges “hobbies,” though they are better represented by “wars:” The Battles of Man Vs. Himself.

Whatever one choses as a hobby, there is a similar blueprint in how one rises above mediocrity and becomes great. Aside from the well-known characteristics of discipline and consistency, there’s one feature I noticed yesterday: variability.

When I was in Yellowstone, my family member / friend, Eddie B (who retired from the U.S. Forest Service and a lifelong photographer), taught me how to capture a photograph. He reminded me that while adjusting the ISO, shutter speed, and f-stop, a skilled photographer will also change his or her positioning. This bolsters the chances of creating a unique and balanced shot.

I’ve been working on my short game in my back yard (that’s golf talk). I realized I could only practice my shot from 25 yards out, but that I’d be at a loss if I had to shoot from 10 yards out. If I want to be exceptional around the green, I have to start changing how far away I am from my target. I have to be adaptable with the presented variation.

I believe this concept holds up no matter the discipline. A sailor can’t only practice in smooth waters and a tennis player can’t only practice his forehand. Without variation and a welcoming of the uncomfortable (and inevitably, lots of failure), mastery will always be far away.

Everything is Sacred

A four year old kissed his mother on the lips during mass yesterday. It was during the most sacred part, the consecration. I’ve been going to mass every weekend since I was a baby. The Catholic Church has been my home and I’ve come to believe what it teaches—generally. This was one of the most profound experiences I’ve witnessed in Church.

It made me rethink what we hold sacred and what we value. Why is a tree more important than a church pew? Why do we think God is present at church but not in the kitchen? Maybe doing the dishes is as sacred as mass if we allow it to be. I don’t know. I happen to think being aware of the craftsmanship of God means God is present.

Some people call it *finding God in all things*. I just want to treat more things like they matter. I want today to be sacred even if it doesn’t feel like it. I want to believe that every single feature of this world is an opportunity to witness the divine, the God is us and in all.

Elliptical Flow

I used to hate ellipticals. Nothing spoils your day like moving as fast as you can while making no apparent progress. But this past week I’ve been dealing with some tendonitis in my foot, so I opened my mind and tried it again.

I have this fancy health-tracking device called an Ōura ring. It shows me everything from my REM sleep to my heart rate during activities and everything in between. I’ve noticed that when I go for a run, my heart rate is “high” the entire time. Makes sense. But when I swim (and I just began swimming recently) or aqua jog my heart rate is “medium.” That’s about the same as a brisk walk.

But when I’m on the elliptical? It’s “high.” Looks like it’s time to give it another shot.

So on Thursday I made a playlist of Nahko & Medicine for the People (my new favorite band) and hopped on the elliptical. I held myself accountable – I wouldn’t get off until 40 minutes elapsed. At first it was boring, then I found my stride and started to feel the music.

Then around minute 25, something happened. Love Letters to God came on. I closed my eyes and my strides per minute increased by 25% (up to 250). I reached deep into the emotions I’ve been hiding for the past 4 months: getting injured, having a disappointing track season, my grammy dying, my friend dying. I was almost in tears. I kept this pace up for 6 minutes without a break.

Call it Flow State, call it The Zone, call it Feeling Yourself. I was deep in it, all because of the elliptical.

Is there a moral to this story? Maybe. To stop judging things predicated on preconceived notions might be a good start.

Nunc Coepi

Three days ago I listened to Episode #376: How Seth Godin Manages His Life — Rules, Principles, and Obsessions (Repost) of the Tim Ferris Show. I listen to a lot of podcasts, but this was one of the top 3 I’ve heard this year. Mr. Godin authors what is considered one of the most well-known blogs online. He has many opinions, but they all stem from his experiential wisdom. When he said, “You should blog every day. It should become your job to notice things,” I felt like he was singling me out.

This is radical advise. It doesn’t just mean starting a blog, posting here and there when it’s convenient and inspiring. No, blogging every day requires discipline, not inspiration. It means posting when I don’t have time and when there’s 20 other things on my agenda. It means no matter what my mood is, I’ll find the time to share something. And it means being more creative and personal than I’ve ever been.

As the hardest man on earth, David Goggins, says: Roger that!

This is the first of many blog posts. I will blog once a day for the rest of my life. This blog will be my living journal, my personal manifesto. When my work on earth is done and I’m ready to retire at 120 years old, people will look back through 36,000 blog posts to this, the very first one.

I told you so.

People say I’m extreme. I call it devotion.

Nunc coepi. Now I begin.