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Voices of the Heart
I snuggled with Monica, read a book, lounged around the house and spent time with Lex. I was so far from my daily routine that Monica asked me if everything was OK! Sometimes we need to hit the reset button. Before Dave crashed his bike, or Steve died, I was going through an attitude re-adjustment. The news of the last few days only served to reinforce the reminders I received from my Book Day. The book that I read is called Grandfather - it's a story about a Native American's lifelong search for truth and harmony with nature. It speaks to several truths I have discovered in my life, whether it is "the truth" I don't really care. If you happen to have Australian friends then you'll know that sticking strictly to the facts can impair the enjoyment value of a good yarn, or religious parable for that matter. So whether the tale is true wasn't the point for me. The value in the story comes from the feelings and lessons it conveys.
Fear is another motivator but it tends to magnify my actions. In other words, my more extreme reactions have root in some sort of fear. Same thing with anger, when I experience anger, there is always an underlying fear that's magnifying the emotion. Anger, even expressed as mild irritation, is a great tool for me to learn about my fears. Pure motivation, the voice of the heart, this is an urge that I can't shake. It continually pops up. I might suppress it for a few years but it keeps coming back to me. So far the clearest example of this was my athletic life -- whether it was off-shore sailing, mountaineering, ultra-running or triathlon -- I had a persistent calling to leave my desk job and spend my life in the outdoors. My desire to train ran so deep that I can remember "being" training - I did some psychological evaluations a few years ago and it was the only thing that really interested me. Even now, I don't rule out a return to the (healthier) passions of my teens, 20s and 30s. With my schooling, my corporate career and my athletics... I am grateful that I took things as far as I did. Ego-driven motivation creates powerful urges but these tend not to be sustained. Examples in my life relate to acquiring "stuff" -- houses, cars, achievements -- trophies that are highly valued by "society" but not really valued by my heart. False gods, there's only a fleeting feeling of satisfaction before a craving for another fix kicks in. Some of my least satisfying races resulted from creating expectations that were driven by ego-motivation. When I am true to my heart, I find that I am rarely disappointed. Goals achieved through pure motivation, ultimately, leave me satisfied rather than craving for more. The paradox in my life is that with my most purely motivated actions, I have NO real reason why I needed to do these things. They either appear obvious (be nice to Monica); or won't leave me alone (move close to nature).
Sixty miles, if I had wings. No idea how many miles on the ground! I've had the persistent desire to go overland from Boulder to Vail. Not quite a Chuckie V desire to walk-the-country (twice) but a more moderate walking meditation through the heart of the Rockies. It's been a couple of years and I can't shake it. I've been chipping around the periphery and exploring sections of the route. Looking at my summer schedule -- there's not really a "good" time to go. I suppose that I'll need to simply go for it one of these weeks. For me human powered touring combines a lot of my favorite things: Physical mantra - once we become proficient in a movement pattern, repeating it at a moderate intensity is pretty darn relaxing. As a triathlete, I always felt that my relaxed swims contributed to overall recovery. The capacity to swim "easy" is a great skill to have in order to combat life stress -- performance benefits placed totally to one side. Trees, nature, water, deserts - there's no desert on my route but I do have three of the four things that tend to relax me. Thanks to Rich Camp 2009, I had a good serving of Utah deserts! Silence - when I was up at Rocky Mountain National Park last week, what struck me was the rich silence of the mountains. It was a weird sensation for there to be no background noise and feel totally "full". Tough to explain, the other place I've felt that way was Alaska sitting in a massive glacial valley. I think many of us crave deep silence but there's still an attraction to the emotional "car crashes" that we see in the media, chat forums and around the water cooler. As I've left my iPod at home a bit, I've discovered it easier to see the areas where I am purely motivated. As my buddy Clas used to joke, it's nice not to have to drink a gallon of coffee just to make it through a training session. I don't miss the chronic fatigue (and soreness) that were my constant companions as an elite competitor. If I'm honest with myself then the Vail trip scares me a bit. Not from a safety point of view, rather, I have this calling to attempt the trip and I'm not sure if I can make it. I am likely feeling my expectations of what the journey will bring. What's your trip this year? Don't wait too long. gordo
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Last Sunday, I took the entire day off from my "life" - no training, no internet, no business.
In my life there are two main forms of motivation: pure; and ego. 
I feel a little like Richard Dreyfus in Close Encounters these days. The photo to the left is a map that I created this past winter. The blue line that you see runs from my house to Vail.