I crashed my bike a couple of weeks ago and had to get stitches above my eye. It was a dumb mistake and I’m basically fine. No, I wasn’t wearing a helmet, and yes, I will now. And that’s all we need to say about that incident. Except it’s not…
My first instinct when I stood up and realized I was mostly intact was to continue my ride to the gym. I had a climbing trip coming up and needed to get my training volume in. It was an unseasonably gorgeous February day. I couldn’t waste it nursing my wounds.
Hell, if my front tire didn’t go flat, loudly announcing so with its hiss as if sending a clear message, I’m not sure I would have been above rolling into the gym with blood pouring down my face.
But every now again a jolt like that is precisely what we need to give ourselves proper perspective. In traveling, in running, in many other pursuits, I am of the belief that it’s impossible to go TOO slow. Sometimes my limited bandwidth and snowballing momentum doesn’t allow for the patience. Give me a road block.
The second thing I thought, after accepting that the day’s activities were a loss, was how lucky I am. Something I should probably acknowledge more often. While I was soooooo close (a two-inch gash or a 10-yard detour) from avoiding harm entirely, I was just as close to disaster. This incident could have gone wrong in so many additional ways, that it quickly became impossible not to be grateful for the minimal damage.
It was also a much more visceral way of reinforcing the importance of full focus. Eight months ago, one misstep wrecked my ankle in a way that I’m still not totally back from. On this day, two seconds of mental lapse could’ve put me in the hospital. Stay engaged. Stay present. Stay healthy (hopefully).
I get antsy. My body. My brain. My entire being is compelled, once the weather hits about 45 degrees, to get moving. Big goals on the horizon and no time to waste. The fact that these temps, and much higher, arrived in mid-February was a priceless gift. I had to take advantage.
This attitude, of course, ignores the inherent counterpoint that because it’s so early, there’s NO NEED to rush. I don’t put too much trust in “everything happens for a reason,” but something needed to slow me down before I even started getting carried away.
There are plenty of days ahead. Which is always the case until it isn’t. But still…progress comes from showing up, time and again. Zoom out. Show up. Repeat. You will end up somewhere. Bursting out of the gate doesn’t make a damn bit of difference. I’m already ahead of where I was at this time last year.
I could go for a softer reset next time, though.
Weekly Choss
Casey Neistat is someone I can admire without envying, because honestly his creativity drive seems exhausting. But I hadn’t checked out anything of his in awhile, until I was recommended this video, which kept me guessing. That’s all I want to say…
Another piece of “content” that I recently had recommended to me featuring a creator I occasionally enjoy, is this one by Beau Miles. It’s kind of the opposite of the first but also the same and equally wonderful for many different reasons…
I plugged this once before, but Anton Krupicka shared the final installment in his Sagebrush and Summits journey. It’s more introspective and philosophical than the first two and an incredibly satisfying conclusion. I am both in awe of what he was able to accomplish and envious of the agony/ecstasy combo that he found out there. He’s also out doing a similar journey in the Southwest as I type this, if you are so inspired to follow him on Instagram.
This is a really good read on something that I’ve been harping on in these newsletters for a while: seasonality. Excited to dig into the book Wintering by Katherine May, which is sitting on my desk right now, as well as Cal Newport’s new one once I can get my hands on it.
Stay patient, people.