Short Advice on Thriving

as time ticks on and I grow more confident in my writing, (albeit manufactured,)
I find myself wanting to share these pickings with the people around me.

“hey look… I wrote this”
“please handle with care” is what I want to say,
“I changed that sentence 9 times, don’t skim over it”

and in that limbo state of waiting for a reaction,
I feel as if everything I had written that far would amount to nothing,
dust so fine that the slightest breeze would blow it away.

how fragile my world has become.

I’ll see you tomorrow.

today is day 221 of the year, there are 146 days remaining of 2022.

a lot of work gets done in preparation for a trail race,

aside from the physical training itself, you have to:
analyze the map and memorize it;
do a practice run to get a feel for the terrain;
prep your hydration pack, survival kit, bear whistle… the usual;
figure out accommodation and transportation;
wrap up work, pack, drive to the mountains and be rested for a 6AM start the next day.

now you’re at basecamp…

you’re excited,
you pick up your kit,
you warm up,
you share stories with other runners,
you join the group at the start line,
you wait for the countdown.

3, 2, 1… GO!

you GO!
and you go!
and you go…

and the pace settles,
and the groups break apart,
and… silence.

you’re on your own.

it’s only you and other runner’s silhouettes in the far distance,
each of you filling in the silence with your own random thoughts.

for the ones that haven’t given much thought to the world inside them,
this part’s the hardest.

just you, and the thoughts in your head step after step, minute after minute, hour after hour.

did you train for this?

I’ll see you tomorrow.

today is day 220 of the year, there are 147 days remaining of 2022.

do you know anyone that:
goes to the gym religiously, but takes the car for a 5 minute ride;
counts their nutrients, but overindulges the first chance they get;
practices meditation, but is an angry driver;
attends church every sunday, but loves to gossip;
regularly goes on hikes, but never takes the stairs?

a little too ironic, don’t you think?

this is what happens when toxic productivity meets over compartmentalization.

I have an app on my phone where I check in with my daily(ish) habits:
wake up at 7AM
meditate
read
write
run
stretch…

there’s 15 of them in total, and I do them because they’re an integral part of my identity.

an identity that I’ve built.

(if you’ve read Atomic Habits or Tiny Habits, this won’t be a foreign concept to you.)

I’m a hiker, therefore I hike.
I’m a writer. What do writers do? they write, I write.
I want to live until I’m 89, so I eat healthily (for the most part)

no, I don’t particularly find it easier;
yes, I would also like to chill and take the elevator,
but I’m the kind of person that takes the stairs,
the decision has already been made,
I just have to do it.

yes, it’s a life of few pleasures and we must cling to the ones we have,
but much like identities, pleasures are built,
appetites are cultivated, they’re not all natural.

you can’t do an activity for which you have no identity,
so you must create it.

most days I run because I’m a runner,
other days I run for the simple pleasure of getting to check off a virtual button.

I’ll see you tomorrow.

today is day 218 of the year, there are 149 days remaining of 2022.

I’m writing this post 4 days before the race,
sitting in an air conditioned room,
with a belly joyously full of coffee and chocolate.

it’s called carb loading, look it up, it’s what professionals do,
and I am nothing, if not a professional.

by the time you read this, I will have gained 1350m altitude in 10km (give or take a few steps) with 11 more Ks to go.

I will have tripped and fallen a couple of times,
I will have drunk enough water to put down a small fire,
for a moment, I will want to cry, but the moment will pass and there will be no tears,

but most importantly,
I will have starred in awe at the beauty of the mountains, my mountains,
my hiding place, the one spot in the world that is purely my own,
that links me to the rest of nature,

I’m writing this post 4 days before the race knowing that once I cross that finish line, I will not be the same.

I will have the same body, the same mind, the same thoughts, but 5 days from now, I will be different, a little emptier.

I’ll see you tomorrow.

today is day 218 of the year, there are 149 days remaining of 2022.

in “How to Win Friends and Influence People” Dale Carnegie said
“All men have fears, but the brave put down their fears and go forward, sometimes to the death, but always to victory.”

bravery means different things for different people at different times,

and while the consequence of failure doesn’t always have to mean impending death,
online embarrassment is often felt with as much intensity,
but, your mileage may vary.

thanks to the internet,
and in the spirit of “I could do that,”
there are millions of cheap seats in the world today,
filled with people that have never tried to do what you do,
but very much feel entitled to judge.

don’t take feedback from people who have not been brave with their lives,
people that hide behind their keyboard and spew negative criticism for clappies on the internet.

dance to the beat of your own drum.

I’ll see you tomorrow.

today is day 217 of the year, there are 150 days remaining of 2022.

I’ve always had an urge to test myself, to take risks, to haunt the edge of possibilities,
particularly when it comes to my body.

my legs still hold the scars I’ve earned as a 6+ year old learning to roller blade, jump spiky fences and hang upside down from trees (I have the cast to prove it)

as time went on, these impulses became more articulate;

I picked up strength training at 16, learned about and implemented paleo and keto around the same time,

as an adult I run and hike in minimalistic footwear (socks, basically)
I try out every sport that crosses my radar, at least once,
forever powered by an urge to just… move.

I don’t know precisely what percentage of nature and nurture is responsible for this side of me, but if I had to guess, I’d say that…

in a whirlwind of pure chance, I was born in an environment that provides such safety that yesterday I went for a run in the 45th hour of a 48 hour fast, just to see if I could.

and I can, barely.

to no longer feel satisfied doing what comes easily to you,
to decide on not eating for two days,
to run out of pleasure and not of necessity,
what a privilege…

the one thought running through my head in tandem with my feet yesterday was “I chose to do this, this is a choice, I want to do this”

I don’t know what I was expecting to learn out of this experience but I had the greatest reminder of all,
gratitude,

after 48 hours, 46 minutes and 41 seconds, I decided to eat, and I could.

I’ll see you tomorrow

today is day 214 of the year, there are 153 days remaining of 2022.

I don’t particularly go out of my way to read the news, the bad ones have a way of seeping into my life anyway, with or without my permission,

recently however, I’ve developed a habit of playing The Daily (New York Times) and Today Explained (Vox) podcasts during my runs,

this unrelenting heatwave is, unsurprisingly, an ample topic of conversation at the moment,
cementing strongly held believes, most of us have, that we are, indeed, fucking up this planet,

one of the people being interviewed by Vox, was this “john,” in his early 40s, from LA, living in an area that restricted him from watering his lawn for more than however many minutes a day, mkay… sounds reasonable?

“they will remove me from my house before I stop watering my lawn. I didn’t cause the heatwave, why should I have to pay for it”

I’m sorry, what?

now, I don’t have a habit of getting riled up by people holding opposing views to mine,

but clearly this aggressively mediocre, grown ass man was clinging on to unintelligence a little more stubbornly than most…

I understand that it can be difficult to accept your way of living as being unsustainable,

I understand that change is hard,

I even understand wanting to preserve your social status as an alpha male capable of holding a hose above grass for a few minutes a day,

we all want to be able to enjoy life without burden, but this is not burger king, you can’t have it your way,

things are bad,
things will continue to be bad,
but if we do the absolute bare minimum, things may be a little less bad,

I am not asking you to understand this, merely to accept it as a fact,

even now, after all the ups and downs, we are right where we started,
dangerously close to the end of the book.

it takes a lot of different people to make a world, and only one to end it.

I’ll see you tomorrow(?)

today is day 208 of the year, there are 157 days remaining of 2022.

I used to attend live marketing events quite regularly cca ~ 2019 BC (before covid)
especially in the US.

ClickFunnels, Digital Marketer, Smart Marketer…

while the content itself was valuable, it was certainly not exclusive to a physical space,
what you’d learn as an audience member one day, would have been recorded, transcribed and uploaded online before the speaker even left the stage.

much like any other niche, marketing events, conferences, masterminds and now “summits…”
are all about networking:
the next tech unicorn, the newest apps on the market, new swipe files, but most importantly…

a whirlwind of nerdy marketing strategies being exchanged with the type of intensity that only comes after the 3rd beer.

it’s lonely out here in the land of keyboards, headphones and screens,
these get togethers used to be the highlight of my professional year,

being able too meet up with clients, colleagues and fellow marketing aficionados, painted an extra dimension to my life that I deeply appreciated.

shortly after covid regulations began loosening up, I started to infuse myself in the digital nomads scene in Lisbon and Prague.

from 18 year old TikTok influencers making 6 figures a year, to american real estate agents that decided to retire after buying a vineyard in the north of spain,

no story was the same,
extraordinary people, with extraordinary personalities and extra ordinary egos.

I was holding up a mirror against my own shadow.

in Ego is the Enemy, Ryan Holiday defines ego as an “unhealthy belief in our own importance.

he also talks about “the temptation to tell ourselves a story, to round off the edges, to cut out our lucky breaks and add a certain mythology to it all.” The “arching narrative of herculean struggle for greatness against all odds.”

aren’t we so special…

I am by no means immune, writing in and of itself is an act of ego,

and while I’m out here experimenting with stoicism and gratitude instead of launching in self indulgent spirals…

what I’ve learned is this:

a healthy self confidence stems from intent and NOT abilities,

we are on track to reach 8 BILLION by the end of this year,

given similar circumstances, there are at least a million people that can do what you do,

don’t rest your worth (and your ego) in your ability to do the thing,

it’s the fuel you use to power your engine that makes you, you.

I’ll see you tomorrow.

today is day 206 of the year, there are 159 days remaining of 2022.

I had my first panic attack rolling over a dirty floor in a Lisbon gas station,

I had gone from actively planning my summer vacation to impending death, in a matter of seconds.

I distinctively remember rocking back and forth waiting for the ambulance to arrive,
when I finally open my eyes to let the world in,
and that’s when I see him…

a faceless man looking back at me, chomping on a sandwich, watching the scene unfold with merry detachment.

this man’s evening had studently become more interesting than what the sunrise had promised. I became his entertainment.

lives continue to be lived, no matter what…

ironically,
this coolness gave me permission to let go and let live.

even more ironically,
what seemed like the finish line, had become a starting line for a life I could have never planned for,
(not matter how good my goal system is)

and while no one is allowed to die more than once, I know that a part of me ceased to exist that day,
destined to remain only in the fog of memory of those that knew me then.

I’ll see you tomorrow.

today is day 192 of the year, there are 174 days remaining of 2022.

most people spend more time planning their vacation than they do planning their lives.

can’t really blame them,
a vacation guaranteed to happen in the near future is infinitely more interesting to plan for, than a volatile and incontrollable life,
(the pandemic taught us that much)

I can’t really say that I was planning to retire at the young age of 35 once I’ve sold the lemonade stand cartel that I had built BUT, even as a child, I have always had a very strong sense of what I wanted,

I didn’t know how, I didn’t even know why, I knew what.

turns out, that’s the worse possible way to plan your life, at least for me it was.

for a very long time inertia had got the better of me and I got stuck collecting nothing more than blind momentum, that I had proudly labeled “achievements.”

luckily, it only took two panic attacks and nine months of weekly visits to the couch for me to stop and ask myself…
“what the fuck is this for?”

the answer to that question has allowed me to write myself reminders (not marching orders,)
and obtain more clarity and drive than I’ve ever had in my life.

I’ll see you tomorrow.

today is day 191 of the year, there are 175 days remaining of 2022.