Find your inner tortoise and be happy

For my run today, I decided to listen to a Ted Radio Hour podcast on Happiness. We are close to the start of a new year, like so many of you, I pretty much feel this way about 2016:


via GIPHY

and it was a blue bird day; 50 degrees in late December. The weather helped lift my mood. Perfect running weather.  

As with all things podcast, I am usually hearing insightful comments, quotes, or thought provoking questions every few minutes. When running, these sources of inspiration and intellectual engagement help pass the time, and send my mind into overdrive. Where my mind goes, my legs follow and sure enough, I find my Zone 2 run is hovering more around Zone 4. I have so many thoughts that I wish I could write them down while running. This may prove complicated and perhaps somewhere in that wish is a new generation of gadgets for creative runners. 

Back to the Happiness podcast. Among the many synapses firing from this hour of insight, two things struck me, well three actually. The first is that we move too fast. Our culture promotes doing more with less time, and thus, happiness passes us by because we are too preoccupied with doing rather than being. Second, we have too much stuff. We don't live simply enough and over the course of our lives, accrue a great deal of useless things. None of this stuff contributes to our happiness. The happiness we yield from it, is often momentary or is because the thing is associated with a happy memory. It is not the thing itself that makes us happy. Third, a quote: "it is not happiness that makes us grateful, it's gratefulness that makes us happy" (Brother David Steidl-Rast). I want to talk briefly about gratefulness and happiness and then about our fixation on speed because I see them as connected. I will save "stuff" for another post because there is much to say on that topic. 

Being grateful, according to Steidl-Rast whose Ted Talk was featured in this podcast, is connected to recognizing that every moment we experience is a gift and an opportunity. We have no idea how many more moments will be given to us, how many more opportunities, so we should be grateful for every one. With that gratefulness comes happiness. Steidl-Rast is not saying we should be grateful for everything, because I am not grateful for violence, hate, war and bigotry. What he is saying is that we should avail ourselves of every opportunity given to us, and in so doing, we find happiness. Moments, he argues, are the most valuable things we can be given.

Now to our preoccupation with speed. I am currently contemplating my desire to continue chasing the elusive Boston Marathon qualification time by running yet another marathon in 2017. I had thought that my most recent marathon would be the finale in this story. If I didn't make the cut off, I would release myself from the self-inflicted goal of seeking a qualification time. However, that is not how the post-marathon thinking has played out for me. Which, in hindsight, I should have easily predicted. Runners do have, after all, pretty bad short term memories.

Qualifying for Boston is about getting faster, and with getting faster, comes work. Lots of miles, lots of speed work, and lots of time spent running. The drive to get faster is relentless. And, I am not sure how healthy it is. The qualification bar for women is far easier than it is for men, and yet, for many of us, not reaching it feels like a badge of shame. It reminds me of fairground rides I couldn't go on when I was a kid because I wasn't tall enough. Failing to reach my BQ time evokes the same feelings of inadequacy as standing against the makeshift ruler to determine whether my height met their safety standard. At the fairground ride, I would stand on my tip toes, hoping those extra centimeters would make a difference. This time, it's minutes and seconds and not feet and inches that determine my entry into the club. It is a point of pride for many, many runners to qualify for Boston, and they wear their Boston jackets and shirts like it's their nation's flag. I don't begrudge them that, and yet, it advertises a club to many of us that we can't be a member of. It separates them from us. The fast from the slow. For some of us, no matter how hard we train, those qualifying times are not attainable, like those extra inches elude many of us who just don't grow that tall. 

Speed. My pursuit of it over all else is present in running and in life. According to one of the TED talkers in this podcast, Carl Honore: "We're so marinated in the culture of speed that we almost fail to notice the toll it takes on every aspect of our lives - on our health, our work, our relationships and our community." As these sentiments from the podcast bounced around my brain, and ideas started shooting off in all directions, my pace quickened. My mind and my legs were turning over at a pace far greater than was helpful. I thought about my work, and how my days are not as full as they used to be in different jobs. I crave to be busier. Why? Why can't I enjoy the slower more relaxed pace of my new environment? It is an entire frame shift for me to slow down at work and slow down in running (despite how often I tell my athletes to slow down). According to Honore, U.S. culture makes slowing down a behavior that is shamed or discouraged. He states:

"slow is a dirty word in our culture. It's a byword for lazy, slacker, for being somebody who gives up. You know, he's a bit slow. It's actually synonymous with being stupid. I think there's a kind of metaphysical dimension that speed becomes a way of walling ourselves off from the bigger, deeper questions. We fill our heads with distraction, with busyness so that we don't have to ask - am I well? Am I happy? Are my children growing up right?"

The amount of times I have heard fellow athletes offer up "I'm slow" prior to a run or other workout as if naming it up front anesthetizes them from their embarrassment. They don't profess to be good or fast and just want others around them to know that. What does "slow" really mean when a vast majority of people don't even choose to exercise in any way? Why do we tell ourselves and others we are "slow" or "not as fast" as someone else? We say this self-deprecating statement in fun, but it reveals an underlying sense of shame about our level of ability. 

Faster isn't necessarily better. Running in Zone 4 for every run, work or life activity won't actually make you faster or more efficient, it will just wear you out. U.S. culture promotes Zone 4 all the time for everything with the prestige associated with a BQ time, 40 hour work weeks, minimal PTO, and lack of health and wellness benefits. Is it any wonder many of us struggle with the meaning of happiness when we don't ever give ourselves enough time to really think about it. To be in the moment, and accept each moment as an opportunity, is what we miss. How many more moments will we all get? As Honore says, it's time for us to get "in touch with [our] inner tortoise[s]." Live our lives rather than racing through them.


Quote and information taken from NPR podcast Ted Radio Hour, "Is There a Secret to Happiness?" http://www.npr.org/programs/ted-radio-hour/267185371/simply-happy (2/14/2104) 

Empathy and Power

I listened to an interesting podcast the other day on the issue of power. Dacher Keltner, a psychologist who teaches at UC Berkeley, shared his research that found those who are generous, kind and empathetic are typically people who don’t hold much power in society. This didn’t much surprise me, I think it makes intuitive sense. His research also demonstrated that those employees, people, and leaders who experience the most respect from others, and thus social power, are those who are emotionally intelligent, kind and generous. Displaying empathy therefore is a force that can lead you to acquire social power. This was interesting to me because I have heard time and again that being “too kind” or “too empathetic” can lead you to be either taken advantage of or left behind. Gender constructions position women most often in the “kindness” box and we see that few women acquire extensive, large-scale social or structural power. Indeed, if they are perceived as too kind or too empathetic then society judges them harshly as weak.

What was most fascinating about Keltner’s research however, was that when folks acquire power, they tend to lose their capacity to be empathetic: “once we feel powerful, we lose - or our capacity to empathize and to know what others are thinking really is diminished.” In gaining power within whatever system a person exists, they can become less invested in others and their empathy networks in the brain are actually quieted (research by Keely Muscatell and Supvindeer Obdea shows this). Folks who hold a lot of power and privilege, the research shows, have inactive empathy networks in their frontal lobes. Keltner on Muscatell and Obdea’s research: “if you come from a position of privilege and power, the classic empathy networks in the frontal lobes of your brain are not even active when you're thinking about another [person]. So this is a very deep effect of what power does to our empathic capacities.”

I am not a scientist nor do I know much about the brain, however, I found this to be pretty interesting. The interviewer asked about billionaires who are also very philanthropic but the researcher’s response was to point out that the philanthropy might actually be a very small percentage of their actual wealth versus someone with less who gives a greater percentage of their income/assets. If someone only gives a tiny percentage of their wealth, even though this figure might be enormous, does that actually make them particularly generous or empathetic to other people’s needs?


When I think about leadership, I think fondly of those leaders I have encountered who truly seem to care about those around them and their communities. Sadly, these people I can probably count on one hand. Most leadership lessons I have experienced have been lessons in how not to treat others. Individuals I have known in workplaces who I might categorize as empathetic and generous, when rising in the ranks and acquiring more (structural) power within that system, have been unpredictable in how they have then continued to maintain connection with their colleagues and continued to exercise empathetic and generous leadership. Power corrupts, we have all heard that phrase, but research is showing that corruption isn’t just a selfish desire to maintain one’s power per se, but instead a dampening of the parts of the brain that oversee empathy. Gaining power creates a physiological reaction that diminishes our actual ability to be empathetic to others. What does this mean for leadership in general? How do we each maintain a connectivity to kindness and generosity when our brain changes as we gain power – social, political, structural, financial or otherwise? We can see this playing out right now in the U.S. presidential election.


Hidden Brain podcast on power: http://www.npr.org/2016/09/06/492305430/the-perils-of-power

Hang On

A couple of weekends ago, I broke through a running ceiling that had been hovering over my head for years: breaking 8 minutes per mile in a half marathon. I ran a 7:57 pace overall and a personal best by 4 ½ minutes. It felt great. Well, after the race it felt great, during, not so much. This race was more of a test of my mental stamina than it was of my physical abilities. I have run 8 minute miles over and over again in training. It is a pace I can absolutely sustain, and can go faster over shorter distances. But the half marathon distance has always been a block. It is the race distance I have completed the most and I know the distance well. Yet, despite practice, knowledge, and desire, I have always ended up on the wrong side of 8 minutes for every half marathon.

Two years ago, when I ran the same half, I managed an 8:19 pace (still a PB at the time). I could’ve gone faster physically but I didn’t believe I could – a culmination of injury memory and self-doubt. My inner dialogue was a back and forth of “I can”/”I can’t,” a tug of war between two arguing siblings. In disagreements, the loudest and/or most persistent voice often wins out. I distinctly remember early on in that race, saying to myself: “I can’t sustain this pace.” My 8:19 average was perhaps a self-fulfilling prophecy.

At this most recent race, I arrived resolved. At the start line, I noted the pacer for a 1:45 half marathon and stuck closely by until the last three miles. The sibling rivalry between “I can” and “I can’t” was still present, knocking on the door, the “I can’t” vying for my undivided attention. I am stronger than I was two years ago and I knew I could’ve run faster two years ago. My mind worked harder than my legs in this race. The miles ticked by, and with them, a 10 mile PR (sub 80 minutes!) and the realization I might actually achieve my goal. With 5k to go, I stepped up the pace. The last mile was hard. It undulates comparative to the rest of the race, meaning you really have to dig deeply to get through it. There was another woman, who had also stuck diligently to the 1:45 pace group leader for 10 miles. In the last mile, she pulled slightly ahead of me but waved me forward to join her side by side. “Come on” she said, “you can do it.” At that point, I didn’t think I could do it, my resolve was crumbling. The “I can’t” was beginning to take over as the stress began to increase. I tried really hard to shut the negative messages out by repeating “you can do it, you can do it” over and over and over to myself, focusing on her encouragement and on my coach’s advice to just “hang on.” My last mile ended up being a 7:33 (my fastest mile) and the oh-so-important “point one,” was a 6:30 average. I crossed the line in 1:44:29, a massive PR and with one smashed 8 minute ceiling.

What holds us back is often the stories we tell ourselves or that our culture and environment teach us. Finding ways to push back against those narratives, and write new ones for ourselves, is central to overcoming barriers in your training (or work, life, etc.) that can habitually stall you. Some people are great at this, others less so. I think I fit into the latter category but continue to try – this most recent “win” has certainly helped. As I prepare for my “A” race this September, my fourth half-iron distance triathlon, I have to remember this as I start my run. We get to write our own stories in these moments. We get to “hang on” if we choose to do so.

Bike to Work Day Blues

The topic of this blog post was decided Wednesday morning on Colorado's "Bike to Work Day" when a fellow rider careened into me after trying to pass a pedestrian on a blind corner.

I support people cycling. I want people to get outside, particularly in this beautiful state, instead of sitting indoors, or sitting in a car sipping on soda. Finding ways to engage in activity that works for you is important not only for your health but also for your soul. Up until this Wednesday, I was a massive supporter of Colorado's annual Bike to Work day. It's fun, there are lots of folks out and about, local bike shops set up aid stations with food and drink so you can stop along the way and grab breakfast and meet new people. It's so much fun, until it isn't.

Wednesday was not fun for me. It was downright painful. At the time I was pretty calm, probably from the shock of being hit and bleeding from the head, but now I am finding I am actually pretty angry. I am angry less because the other rider should not have tried to pass a pedestrian as he came down the slope and around the corner into the underpass, but more because he never once said he was sorry. He hung around a little after calling his wife to come get him, and mumbled some concern for me and my head but never acknowledged that it was his fault or that he should have been paying more attention.

I still find myself wanting to afford him some benefit of the doubt: he was shaken up, he had injured his hand, he wasn't thinking straight. All very possible and natural reactions to an accident. Yet, even with all that, was it that hard for him to sputter out an apology? I even gave him a band aid from my back pack. He left, before the paramedics got to me, and went with his wife to an ER. I am saddened by the complete lack of responsibility exhibited by him. Numerous people I have told about what happened, as I inevitably have to do once they see my black, blue, red and purple eye, repeat the refrain: "Bike to work day is the last day you should bike to work." Even the triage nurse asked upon my arrival at the ER "Bike to work day?" with a small chuckle. The running joke is that most of the bikers who participate in bike to work day have not ridden since the previous one and so the day is best avoided. It is perplexing to me that something that was intended to motivate folks to find alternate ways to get to work that do not put a strain on the environment and help you get healthier in the process, has such a negative reputation among cyclists and medical professionals.

I won't be biking to work for a little while until I heal and I definitely won't be biking on Bike to Work Day 2017. I know this is one incident, and this one accident causer's response may not be representative of everyone who causes an accident. I know that this shouldn't deter me from engaging in the event but it has. It has changed how I view it and has been very difficult to manage.

I stick to bike paths because I believe(d) them to be safer. I always call out "on your left" when I am passing someone and try to be a considerate and thoughtful bike commuter when I do it. But much like driving, I clearly cannot assume that everyone else has that same perspective. I therefore now see Bike to Work Day as dangerous. Encouraging that many inexperienced or aggressive cyclists out on the bike paths and roads at the same time without any real oversight is problematic. My accident was obviously not the first that occurred on this day, nor will it be the last, and there is zero accountability for the person who caused my injuries. Clearly the day has a less than rosy reputation among many and now I see why.

The other compounding piece of this worth noting, is that many of the bike paths are poorly maintained, narrow, and leave little room, if any, for cyclists to maneuver out of the way of those inexperienced or aggressive riders. The Bear Creek Trail, where my accident happened, is one such bike path. It runs all the way to Morrison, but many sections of it are extremely narrow, with broken concrete, bumps and pot holes, sharp 90 degree turns and low visibility for passing. I think you can tell which city or district you are in by how much money they have invested in maintaining the bike path. Some parts of it are wonderful, other parts, not so much.

Fixing these issues is possible and that will have a real impact on people's safety cycling to work. However, the root of my anger over this whole accident is the person's attitude. How do you fix an unapologetic accident causer and hold people accountable for their actions when there is no oversight? A cheery message about the virtues of Bike to Work Day and a free t-shirt do not erase the problems of encouraging 10 times the number of people on bike paths (and roads--don't even get me started on that) ill equipped to safely transport one cyclist.

I didn't get a t-shirt or an apology. Just a black eye, 4 stitches, a bruised leg, and a huge medical bill.

The 5am Project

Since my last blog post about the need and desire to run in the morning, I have had moderate success. It's been a little under 4 weeks and I have been working at getting up at 5am or thereabouts so that I can get all my workouts done before the work day (or really, the heat right now) drags me down. My partner, whose idea the 5am Project was, has had less success. He downloaded an alarm app that is supposed to ease him to wake up but it didn't really work that well. He just generally sleeps through it.

Our attempts are also impacted by our senior dog who nearly always needs to go outside in the middle of the night. He stands by the door and whimpers, the kind of pathetic whimper that breaks your heart. I have never been able to sleep through it. My other dog, rarely needs to pee at night but will of course get up and bounce around outside while our other dog does his business. Continuously broken sleep is not conducive to early morning exercise plans. Nor are Mondays. Early on in this process, I found myself falling asleep at work. This, was of course not the intended outcome of this plan. The blame for my daytime tiredness does not rest solely at the feet of the 5am Project. It is compounded by not having a window, fresh air, or a standing desk in my new office. All things I was used to in my previous job. I had no idea that not having those elements in the workplace would have such an impact on my energy levels. I have seen a noticeable decline in my energy levels throughout the day. Combined with the earlier than usual mornings, midday nap time began knocking loudly on my door.

However, I have persevered with my plan. Last week, as the temperatures rose, I was deeply thankful I pushed through the snooze button and got my runs done early. I completed one after an open water swim and the other two I forced myself to get up, stay up, and go out. I still have not figured out a way to get up and run immediately, and take about 60 minutes acclimation time before heading out the door. But, I am heading out the door and in the right direction. It feels good to be done for the day before 9am; I feel so accomplished. I knew I would and this is one of the primary reasons coaches and runners alike argue athletes should workout in the morning.

I don't have any profound wisdom to share from this journey so far, other than to say it has been hard. When I know I am going to get up early, I stress about getting to bed earlier, and then have trouble falling asleep, my desire to hear my alarm clock infiltrates my dreams as anxiety. I infrequently sleep through an alarm, so there is rationally no reason to think I would start to do so now, yet the fear is there and I let it win sometimes. When it wins, my nights are fragmented dream/wake states that leave me feeling groggy and un-rested when the sun comes up. I know, or at least hope, I will find my rhythm and over time will adjust. I encourage you to try this too. I know it can be done by folks who have kids and folks who do not. I have read enough success stories to know that people with wide and varying commitments can pull this off. It is just a case of being thoughtful and efficient with the time you have and making choices that support the lifestyle change. Alarms, dogs, heat and any number of things can derail your plans. They may even appear to be conspiring against you, as though your inner night owl is throwing road block after road block your way in defiance of your new early night, early to rise routine. The key is not to let the set backs derail all plans, present and future. One poor night's sleep should not lead us each to the conclusion that morning running or exercise isn't worth the effort. When faced with a 6am 60 degree run vs a 6pm 90 degree run, I think the choice is pretty clear.

Motivation: In Work, Training, and Life

For several weeks earlier this year, I struggled with motivation, particularly motivation in my training. Up until a few months ago, I was missing workouts or finding ways to limit them. My ability to manage my job, life, and training felt out of balance. About a month ago, I made a conscious choice to commit to do every training session. As my coach told me, I “get” to exercise; it is never a “have to.”

Many of us don’t think about or don’t respond to the reality that we are all temporarily abled bodied. We are temporarily able to engage in rigorous activity and that ability could be lost at any time. The risk that one day our mobility might no longer be as it is today, is real. Yet, even when we know folks who have struggled with physical changes to their bodies, if it’s not in our immediate foreground, it lacks any power to change our own behavior. We know it could be, perhaps, maybe, kind of, but it isn’t right now, so why think about it? I have endeavored to remind myself of this when my motivation is slipping away to re-orient myself to my training as a choice and as something I get to do. It isn’t an obligation, it isn’t something I drag around with me like a ball and chain. It is something that has positive benefits and gets me outside and away from the pull of the sofa.

Motivation is of course a complex matter. Sometimes we just cannot motivate ourselves to get up and outside into activity and there are very real cognitive and biological reasons for that. I think about this inner struggle I have experienced with training – the “should I/shouldn’t I” conversation that happens almost daily in my head – and compare it to my professional life. Motivation at work is a real issue for many of us. I believe it is connected to the need for change, intellectual stimulation, or something new and interesting. However, I don’t think folks experiencing a lack luster work environment or a lack of interest in their work always see it as such. Blah becomes the new normal and ceases to be noticeably problematic. I have talked a lot about stagnancy in the professional realm before now. In particular, how employees lacking in professional cultivation by their employer stay at organizations for years and cease to grow personally and professionally. This stagnancy impacts organizational culture over time and slowly puts the brakes on innovation and opportunity. Stagnancy can impede the forward momentum of your business as much as stagnancy in training can impede progress toward your athletic goals.

Stagnancy and motivation are linked. When motivation is waning among employees or there is a lack of energy about the future and what could be, that’s an indicator that stagnancy has, or is about to take hold. The responsibility lies with the employer to remove the collective hand from the brake and inspire something different. Employers should encourage a culture of constant professional development so that folks don’t fall into low-risk, uninspired ruts. That is not to say that employees don’t have some responsibility here. They have to pick up what their conscientious employer is throwing down. Much like I have to work with, and listen to my coach as I struggle through periods of low motivation. This body of mine is not invincible, it is permeable and it is vulnerable despite what I can make it do. I work hard to make it strong, but I must remind myself not to take it for granted, not to get stagnant. In work, as in training, I must check in with myself and be honest about when I am stuck. We should all strive to not take work life for granted and simply sink back down into our sofas instead of rising to the challenge and opportunity of something new. Put another way, I must resist the urge in work and training to choose comfort over possibility. *

*credit for that last line goes to my fabulous work friend, Trish.