Thanks for EVERYTHING...

I am feeling grateful for some weird things this morning ...

• My daughter woke up late and was snarky and unappreciative when I drove her up to the school for an early run through with her French project group. I am grateful for that. She was up late last night at a dress rehearsal for a production of Little Shop of Horrors and stayed in town with me, so I got to spend this extra time with her. She is a magnificent, "rapidly growing/involved in everything/figuring out who she is" young lady - so some morning grumpiness is just fine with me.
• My elbow hurt at the gym this morning. I was recently diagnosed as having bony growth from an old improperly healed break and will require surgery in the fall. This morning's pain was actually great news in that I realized that it has not caused me any grief in over a week - after 2 months of solid woes. Until today's little zing (that I caught in time and adapted to), I had taken for granted that it has become marvelously manageable.
• I am missing an unbelievably great lineup at the Ottawa Blues Festival this summer! This world class event has expanded way beyond "blues", and this year includes a mind-blowing collection of some of my favourite artists ... Girl Talk, John Butler Trio, Soundgarden, My Morning Jacket, Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes, Skrillex, Sphongletron Experience, Ben Harper, Black Keys, Billy Talent, Flaming Lips, Joe Satriani ... as well as literally hundreds of classic acts and new finds. For a music festival fan like me, where could there be a blessing in this??? Well, I am missing the Ottawa festival because I am already committed during that stretch - to Camp Bisco (with Jack!) the first weekend and to coaching a youth wrestling camp in Timmins for the latter part (with Carol Hunyh - GOLD medalist from the 2008 Olympic Games - and Katy will be training with her!). Ahhh - Life's rich pageantry :)
• I have a ridiculous pile of tasks, on my desk in front of me, to get through this morning. At first glance it is almost overwhelming. But what a great problem to have in recessionary times, with people all around clamoring for any work at all. I have loud music on and a home-made latte half-finished, so will cut this post short and get at it!

There really isn't much that can happen to you in which you cannot find something to be thankful for. I will leave you with a few of my favourite thoughts on that topic ...

• "Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened." ~ Dr. Seuss
• "There is nothing either good nor bad, but that thinking makes it so." ~ Shakespeare
• "There is no such thing as gratitude unexpressed.  If it is unexpressed, it is plain, old-fashioned ingratitude."  ~ Robert Brault
• "Gratitude is an art of painting an adversity into a lovely picture." ~ Kak Sri
• "If a fellow isn't thankful for what he's got, he isn't likely to be thankful for what he's going to get." ~ Frank A. Clark
• "The unthankful heart... discovers no mercies; but let the thankful heart sweep through the day and, as the magnet finds the iron, so it will find, in every hour, some heavenly blessings!" ~ Henry Ward Beecher
• "What a miserable thing life is:  you're living in clover, only the clover isn't good enough." ~ Bertolt Brecht
• "Most human beings have an almost infinite capacity for taking things for granted." ~ Aldous Huxley

Regrouping...

So, today I am licking my wounds - the ones on my feet and the ones on my ego. All are self-inflicted of course, and all will heal. So I am trying to learn what I can from them while the pain is still fresh.

Friday afternoon I set out to hike 240km (140mi) in 48 hours with a 60 pound load (weight vest, backpack and dumbbells). It was an arbitrary assignment I had given myself. Knowing the predicted length of The Death Race in June, I figured I had better see how I would hold up to that duration of intense physical work. As I am apt to do, I broadcast this intention on Facebook - and received a ton of encouragement. The route was between the south end of Orillia and the north end of Barrie, on the Oro-Medonte Rail Trail. It is a fairly flat route, 28km (18 mi) in length. I figured I would do the first and last legs solo, and had friends lined up to join me on the middle six.

Looking back, I vastly underestimated this task. I have run a couple of marathons (with zero training, might I add) so how hard could walking be? Well, maybe not all that hard. Until you add a 60 pound load. That load consisted of a 20lb weight vest (thanks for the loan Mike Kitchen), a 20lb backpack (food, water, clothes, etc) and 2x10lb dumbbells. As soon as I started I knew it would be a great test of my ability to "gut it out" but that was the whole point, so I welcomed the strain on my shoulders and back. 

About 8km in, I stopped to remove a pebble from my right shoe. It had been wearing at the ball of my foot since the previous concession and I didn't want to take any chances. But once I got unlaced there was no sign of a stone. Not in my sock either. There was, though, the start of a good blister. Already?? WTF??? I put sock and shoe back on and marched forward. Two miles later, the blister was much worse and others were developing on my left foot and the outside of both heels. Obviously the extra weight was causing me to push off much harder than usual. I swapped my cotton socks for wool ones (packed in case things got wet) and soldiered on. Things seemed a bit better.

At the halfway mark (the 1/16th mark of the whole hike) I assessed my pace - and it was awful. I had figured my first few legs would be 5 hours each, leaving lots of cushion for a quick replenish/refresh at the turn and the inevitable slowing in the latter stages. It had taken me a full three hours to go 14km. I called Karen Graham, who was meeting me at the Barrie end for 8:30pm and told her to count on it being 10pm instead. 

Here is where the real "fun" started. I noticed that my stride was way off - with a significant limp. The blisters had not become much worse, but that's because I was compensating so much for them. Now, it was the familiar pain of plantar fasciitis that was flaring up. I stopped, dropped to one knee and stretched my calf and Achilles then switched legs and repeated. Up and walking again I started running through scenarios. There was no way I was going to make the 224km in 48hrs. Which would be a more acceptable adjustment - finish the distance but take much longer? Or get in as much as I could in the 48 hours and call it a "qualified success"? With this playing out in my head, the clouds started rolling in.

KG called me back. Concerned at the tone of our last conversation, she suggested I consider dumping some of the weight to allow me to pick up the pace. How could it be that I wasn't even done one leg and already I was making compromises?? But the reality was that I had to do something differently, as my feet were getting worse with every step and I had people counting on me to keep to the schedule. Fine! I met her at the 5th Concession crossing and unloaded the dumbbells and the backpack, keeping just the weight vest and some water. I took some time to stretch really well. Then I put my head down and continued South, switching on my headlamp as the evening gave way to night.

With so much less weight, I was able to pick up the pace significantly and started feeling good about my prospects again. "No worries, Johnny, you are just getting started! Pain is mostly in your mind. Left foot. Right foot. Repeat!". An hour and a half later I was at the South end of the trail, where KG and her trusty pooch Hailey were ready to join me for the return trip to Orillia.

Really, I was just an hour behind schedule and would surely travel much faster with company, right? I took a few minutes to put some moleskin on my blisters, then donned a fleece jacket and some gloves as the temperature had dropped quickly, the rain now snow.

KG and I are old friends, and our conversations are always lively and animated. She did her best to keep up her end of that bargain, but it was clear to us both that my replies were coming through gritted teeth. Within a few miles I was already slower than my fully encumbered pace. Every few hundred yards I stopped to stretch before wobbling on. We dutifully ignored the obvious topic - how far could I go? And at what cost?

In my mind I was still going to finish...

"I am not a quitter!"

"Remember Joe's lesson - you don't "try" to finish something, you finish it!"

"Mind over matter."

"Suck it up and giv'er" - sings Steve VanKessel.

As we passed the Third Concession, KG "joked" that she did have cab fare should we need it. I pretended I hadn't heard, though by now I knew that simply finishing this leg was the new target. Every step felt like it could be the last, with pain shooting though each foot every time they touched down. I remembered my friend and chiropractor, Andy Westelaken, telling me that plantar fasciitis would be my number one enemy training for The Death Race. "You can tough out most things Johnny, but PF ain't one of them. If you don't keep that in check you will NOT be doing The Death Race." 

The mile between the 3rd and 4th probably took close to an hour. We may have been moving towards Orillia, but it was actually getting further and further away. Finally, I parked my ego and threw in the towel. "SON OF A BITCH!!!" I HATED quitting. We decided the best plan now was to backtrack the 5 or so miles to the truck. With that tension broken, KG worked hard at boosting my spirits - joking about her crazy dog zipping in and out of the marsh, asking me about other training plans, pointing out that I now had a "found" weekend to get stuff done. I hoped that my other hiking accomplices would be as understanding when I told them their plans were being changed - and remembered that my next trailmate, Amanda, would be expecting me soon at the Orillia end. I pulled out my BlackBerry to send her a text so she would stay in bed when her alarm went off - and saw a very recent message from her asking for an update.

So, swallowing the very last of my pride, I called Amanda and asked her to pick Karen and me up at the 3rd Concession. She didn't ask any questions - she knew how disappointed I would be - and agreed right away. KG and I sat down under a streetlamp and waited. When Amanda arrived, she took me to my truck and I returned for KG and her very wet dog, dropping them back to Karen's car in Orillia. Shortly after 2am, I limped down my stairs and into a hot bath before crawling into bed and passing out until 11am.

When I woke up, I started the post-mortem. My stated goal was to walk for 48 hours and cover 224km. I had walked for less than 9 hours and quit after less than 40km.

Wow.

Brutal. Massive fail. Actually very embarrassing.

Could I have continued? For a while, maybe. Would I have jeopardized the next two months' training and even The Death Race itself? Absolutely. So there was no doubt that stopping was the right call. Why, then, did it feel so utterly shitty?

Mostly ego. I am training for one of the hardest races in the world. And I can't #&% walk to Barrie??

At Noon, I posted on Facebook that I was "off the trail" and conceded my defeat publicly. Then I started making the calls to let my hiking partners know that they had some free time ahead. To my relief, but not my surprise, everyone was hugely supportive and encouraging.

All that was left to do was find the lessons in this aborted adventure. What are they?

• I need better socks! I did not bother to prepare for the difference in hiking under load, and blistered astonishingly fast. 
• I need to practice walking/running distances under load. The Death Race pack will be between 40 and 60 pounds, so I had the weight right. But I need to build that ability up over the next two months, especially on steep hills ... Horseshoe Valley here I come.
• I am nowhere near as ready for The Death Race as I thought. Which just means I need to make the most of the next two months to prepare. I can't take anything for granted - in terms of conditioning OR equipment.
• I have amazing friends.
• Sometimes you have to surrender a battle to stay in the war. My ultimate goal is not to hike back and forth to Barrie - it is to complete The Death Race in June. My eyes are still firmly on that prize!

So, with that said I am off to bed. And back in the gym in the morning for strength work (taking a few days off from running or plyometrics). Then a Tuesday massage, Wednesday chiropractic appointment ... and the McNaughton Ultra May 7th in Vermont. 

What do they say about getting back on a horse ;)

The future's so bright ...

Windsor (Detroit, for my American friends) is not an area that leaps to mind when one thinks "Where shall I go to feel enormously inspired?". It is a manufacturing city hard hit by successive recessions, never really bouncing back in between.

This week, though, there is a special energy in town. Windsor is hosting the Canadian Cadet/Juvenile Wrestling Championships - the national finals for high school aged grapplers. Hotels and restaurants are overflowing with 900+ fit, excited, motivated young men and women here to compete at the highest level in their sport, along with their coaches, trainers, families and friends.

Today was registration and warmups, and the University of Windsor's "St. Denis Athletic Centre" was jumping! Eleven mats were already set up and crawling (literally) with kids loosening up, working technique and sweating out the last few ounces (pounds?) before weigh-ins. Beginning tomorrow, there will be thousands of matches fought over three days. There will be blood, sweat and tears. There will be pins and throws and highs and lows.

Coaching youth wrestling is a huge privilege for me. I started with my own kids, and have had the opportunity to work with hundreds more over the past several years. They are some of the most inspiring athletes you could ever imagine. Some are naturals and some are anything but. In either case, those who stick with this brutally demanding sport have enormous heart. Traveling with them to tournaments across the country is always an adventure and I never stop learning from them.

As we came back to the hotel this afternoon, loaded down with groceries to eat AFTER the official weigh-ins, I walked past the television in the lobby. Like most TVs in most lobbies in most cities around the world, it was tuned to "the news". By "the news" I mean the BAD news. Nowadays, there is so much bad news, and the networks are so eager to report it all, that the screen is split into several windows. Today, the main box had a reporter breathlessly describing the latest earthquake in Japan. The text scrolling across the bottom was reporting the imminent collapse of the American government's finances due to a budget bill stalled by bi-partisan bickering. The "upcoming news" window implored us to stay tuned for news on a grisly murder. It would be easy to lose hope and decide we are all going to hell in a handbasket.

Then I turned away from the misery box and looked, instead at a lobbyful of young athletes. Happy, fun, hard-working, eager kids. Laughing and jostling and sharing. I have no control over geo-tectonic forces. I can't do a damned thing about US politics (I took a shot at Canadian politics, but that's a big blog post on its own). What I CAN do, is keep working with these amazing wrestlers. Contributing to them and allowing them to contribute to me through their example and success.

They are our future! So, where are my shades?

This is IT!!!

Years ago I heard the great line "Life is what happens to you while you are busy making other plans." It was in John Lennon's song "Beautiful Boy". (He wrote it for his son, Sean, though I picture my son, Jack. You can listen in the background while you read.)

Everyone I know is "so busy", myself included. There is so much that we mean to do that never gets done. And now I have added "blog" to that self-inflicted treadmill.

After posting my weekend potpourri of plagiarism (links and quotes), I figured I had better come up with a zinger of a blog post for Monday. A brilliant one. Original. Game changing! But, instead, I did a whole bunch of other stuff. It was a great day (as usual). A busy one. Generally, a productive one. Still, there are several things I would have liked to have done that I didn't.

Conversely, there were wonderful things happen that I could never have planned. Serendipitous visits with old friends. Unexpected client calls returned with promising results. A missed exit resulting in 15 lost minutes that I turned into a found quarter hour of mindful silence.

Please don't misunderstand this idea - I am not preaching a completely laissez-faire approach to life. Go back to Do The Work to see that I am a big fan of action. Or to My Weekend at Camp to read Joe DeSena's "let's get this tire up the hill" story. When you set your mind to something, get it done.

But don't beat yourself up about every little thing that you didn't do today. It is over (literally, "today" is over as I type this at 12:09am "tomorrow"). Wake up and start again.

One of the most valuable lessons I ever heard was from Stephen Covey, who told the following story.

• One day, as an expert on the subject of time management stood in front of a group of high-powered over achievers, he said, "Okay, time for a quiz." Then he pulled out a one-gallon, wide-mouthed mason jar and set it on a table in front of him. He produced about a dozen fist-sized rocks and carefully placed them, one at a time, into the jar.
  When the jar was filled to the top and no more rocks would fit inside, he asked, "Is the jar full?" Everyone in the class said, "Yes." Then he asked, "Really?" He reached under the table and pulled out a bucket of gravel. Then he dumped some gravel in and shook the jar causing pieces of gravel to work themselves down into the spaces between the big rocks.
  Then he smiled and asked the group once more, "Is the jar full?" By this time, the class was on to him. "Probably not," one of them answered. "Good!" he replied. And he reached under the table and brought out a bucket of sand. He started dumping the sand in, and it went into all the spaces left between the rocks and the gravel. Once more he asked the question, "Is this jar full?"
  "No!" the class shouted. Once again he said, "Good!" Then he grabbed a pitcher of water and began to pour it in until the jar was filled to the brim. Then he looked up at the class and asked, "What is the point of this illustration?"
  One eager beaver raised his hand and said, "The point is, no matter how full your schedule is, if you try really hard, you can always fit some more things into it!"        
   "No!" the speaker replied. "That is not the point. The truth this illustration teaches us is: If you don't put the big rocks in first, you'll never get them in at all."

So, what were my big rocks today? 6AM workout - check! Breakfast with my daughter - check! Return all my clients' calls - check! Three hours focused work on client files - check! Healthy lunch - check! Coach my son's elementary school wrestling team - check! Two hours business planning - check! Coach my daughter's wrestling club practice tonight - check!

My gravel? Coffee with a friend. Phone conversation with my mom. An hour of organizing my files for year-end taxes. Sat quietly and listened to Explosions in The Sky's incredible album "The Earth is Not a Cold, Dead Place"

My sand and water? Posted some fun links to Facebook. Listened to the NCAA Men's Basketball final while reading some great blogs. Stayed up later than I intended.

And the things I didn't get done - well, now I guess "blog" is no longer on that list (though, as mentioned earlier, I am technically doing that "tomorrow"). But there are lots of other little things that may get done tomorrow (or "today" ... WTF?? Am I on "Quantum Leap" right now?). Or may not.

As long as you are getting the big rocks into the jar, you are doing OK. And if you are not, then start today. Don't beat yourself up over yesterday or even a minute ago. That is just throwing good energy after bad. Start right now. And as soon as you are getting the important things done first, you will be amazed at how much more energy and time you have for lots of other "stuff".

To wrap up (and go to bed, as I am back at the gym in 5 hours - yikes!), I want to share a thought from my meditation mentor, Dr. Bill Knight. He practices and teaches Mindfulness Meditation, as introduced to the West by Jon Kabat-Zinn. He explained that whatever is happening - good, bad, indifferent - that IS your life. You can be as busy as you'd like making other plans but, as Bill said, "This is IT". This is your life.

Though he would certainly not have chosen to model such a dramatic example, Bill was diagnosed with skin cancer halfway through our 3 month program. He was ordered to undergo surgery immediately and begin further treatment right after. In sharing this news with us, Bill explained that this would, of course, disrupt much of his day to day life for the foreseeable future. This was not one of the plans he was busy making. But it was his life.

So, surgery became a big rock. Chemotherapy (or radiation, I honestly don't recall which) became a big rock. Other big rocks that stayed in place - time with his wife, teaching our course and his own daily meditation practice. He did not fall apart. He did not spend any of his vital energy bemoaning his fate. He faced it head on - focusing on the things he could control and enjoying his life for exactly what it was.

So, look at your life. Control what you can. Put the big rocks in first. And enjoy it all.

Because "this is IT".

Once again, my quick "sorry I didn't write anything" has turned into quite a rant! But that's OK. This is my life and I LOVE it :)

Weekend Wonderfulness Vol. 1

Every day I receive dozens of emails from friends and clients with links to inspiring, enlightening and entertaining tidbits from all over the 'net. So, I have decided to start a Saturday tradition of sharing some "Best Of" with you...

First, please make sure to read "Lots of Time to Do Nothing When You are Dead"...

Then c'mon back and enjoy this eclectic grab bag o' stuff. There is something for everyone, and no one will like it all :) ... So, share whatever you enjoy and forget whatever you don't ... and have an awesome weekend!!!

From Stephanie at SEA AND BE SCENE ... "How To Be Alone" (beautiful spoken word by Tanya Davis) 

From David "Ornj" Graham of Youth Leadership Camps of Canada ...

• ‎"Many of us spend half our time wishing for things we could have if we didn't spend half our time wishing." Alexander Woollcott

From Carrie at "ClockBlocking.com" ... GREAT picture!!

From inside my Magic Hat beer cap!!

• ‎"Surrender to life's splendor."

 From Rob Frost of KOOL FM ... Chromeo!

From my old friend Mark Buckland ...

• What have i to do with this life?
  I have a choice to suffer or enjoy.
  Where will suffering lead me?
  To nothing. But i shall have suffered.
  Where will enjoyment lead me?
  To nothing. But i shall have enjoyed.

From Spartan Race ...

From Don Miguel Ruiz (author of The Four Agreements)

• "Love coming out of you makes you happy. The whole world can love you, but that love will not make you happy. What will make you happy is to share all the love you have inside you. That is the love that will make a difference."

From The Onion

• Adults Have Misclassified Me As A Handful

  BY TIMMY JOHNSON 
  JULY 25, 2007 | ISSUE 43•30
  

From Jackie M :)

• ‎"Man sacrifices his health in order to make money. Then he sacrifices money to recuperate his health. And then he is so anxious about the future that he does not enjoy the present; the result being that he does not live in the present or the future; he lives as if he is never going to die, and then dies having never really lived" Dalai Lama

The funniest video I have ever seen ...

From "The Globe and Mail" ...


Winning the mind game: Can I run farther than I think?

AMBERLY MCATEER

Last updated Monday, Mar. 28, 2011 9:19AM EDT

Amberly McAteer takes a break from her 5K run in Toronto's High Park, March 27, 2011 (Wayne McAteer for the Globe and Mail)

“One critical aspect missing from your training program,” writes one concerned (and brutally honest) reader, “is suck it up and get ’er done.”

I am, dear reader, attempting to heed your advice. But there is a voice in my head that grows louder by the kilometre. It starts as a whisper at about 20 minutes, and by the one-hour mark, it crescendos to a scream. “Stop now, take a breather. Grab a latte and relax, you’ve gone far enough.”

I’ve always subscribed to the idea of listening to my body. When I’m hungry, I eat, and when I’m tired, I sleep (both of which I’m doing a lot more of these days, now that I’m training five times a week for at least an hour a day.)

The thing is, I do feel like I’m pushing myself more than I ever have. Just the other day I jogged Toronto’s Belt Line, a long, peaceful trail that slices the north part of the city, and I was so infatuated with the sunny spring day and my surroundings that before I knew it, I’d tracked 6K in 52 minutes. I know it doesn’t sound like much to distance runners, but it was a shining achievement for me.

But as soon as I realized how far I’d gone, I caved to that voice and I made a beeline for Starbucks.

Last week, a 400-lb. sumo wrestler in L.A. set a world record for the heaviest person ever to complete a marathon – albeit in 9 hours, 48 minutes. You’d think his body would have commanded he stop before the finish line – but he obviously pushed past it. Why can’t I?

Clearly, I needed professional help: Should I listen to that voice in my head, or can I run farther than I think?

Turns out, I can – and I should.

At Absolute Endurance fitness centre in Toronto, owner (and avid marathoner, Iron Man enthusiast and fitness guru) Alan Chud repeatedly pricks my finger as I run on the treadmill. He’s testing the lactic acid levels in my blood, to find out how far and how fast I’m actually capable of running.

After studying my chart, he tells me something that is still blowing my mind.

“Physiologically, you’ve really got the body of an endurance runner.”

Stunned, I ask him to elaborate.

My “aerobic zone,” the pace at which runners can comfortably stay for an incredibly long time, is roughly the four mile/hour mark on the treadmill. I can, he says, theoretically “go on forever” at this heart rate – as long as I’m refuelling along the way.

The voice that tells me I need to hit the showers after 30 minutes, Mr. Chud says, isn’t my body telling me to quit. It’s the result of being unprepared, lazy and bored. Ouch.

He admits he hears that creeping voice every now and then – but he drowns it out by forgetting about all the data – his pace, calories burned, heart rate, and mileage. He doesn’t think about how far he’s gone or how much trail he still has left.

The voice dies when he surrounds himself in what he calls a here-and-now metaphorical cylinder, hearing his feet hit the ground and legitimately enjoying the moment.

Now that I know I’m physically capable of much more, I hope to follow in his footsteps.

127 Hours

Katy and Jack are asleep, and I will follow suit very shortly. I sat down to blog for a bit, as I have three half-written posts.

• Shitting the Bed
• Don't Put Your Best Foot Forward
• Lot's of Time to Do Nothing When You are Dead

But they are going to stay unfinished for at least another day. I don't feel particularly loquacious tonight, and am not going to force it.

A quick note, though: The kids and I watched "127 Hours" tonight. The Aaron Ralston story, first published as the book "Between a Rock and a Hard Place". It is the true tale of a 23 year old solo hiker who tumbled into a back-country crevasse and had his hand pinned beneath a boulder. He spent six days there, deep in the ground, out of food and water, before taking the almost unimaginable step of amputating his own arm. I had seen the movie a few months ago, but wanted to watch it again with Katy and Jack. It was an extraordinary experience.

I remember very clearly when I first heard the story - I had just stepped off a plane on May 3rd, 2003 in New York City, and while I waited for a cab I watched the news conference announcing his dramatic escape from his rocky tomb. It was also the same day that my nephew Zachary was born. I was in the Big Apple for a workshop examining what life means to me and how I want to impact my world, so both of those memorable events had extra "umph".

Like everyone who heard the story, I asked myself "Could I do that? Could I cut off my own arm if I had to?"  The kids and I had that conversation tonight too. Very cool insights into who they are, and into how they see me.

I won't dwell our answers here - as it doesn't really matter to you what we think. But what do YOU think? Could you do it? If not, why?

Here is a really wonderful 6 minute interview with Aaron, if you are interested.

Good night :)

P.S. Here is the trailer for the movie ...

One of those days...

I received a text message from a friend the other day that said, "Sorry - running late. Been one of those days!!". The first sentence was strictly functional - notifying me of the delay and apologizing. The second half, though - "Been one of those days!!" - is the part that stuck with me. It was clearly assumed that I would know what "those days" are. And they aren't good! I think it was also intended as an excuse to some degree - because when you are having "one of those days" what can you do? Of course you'd be late on "one of those days".

When I Googled "one of those days", I actually found a dictionary definition for the phrase - "a day when everything goes wrong". There was generic advice for how to deal with one. I also found several songs, from pop, to rock to reggae to Weird Al, all bemoaning such a day. Then, a cartoon ...

There was also a movie and pile of books. "One of those days" is one of those phrases that we all nod knowingly to. "I know what you mean, man. I know what you mean."

For the record, I had one of those days yesterday. That statement may catch some friends and  readers off guard, as I am oft accused of being too positive, too cheerful in the face of a reality that can't always be "that awesome". But make no mistake. Sunday was an absolute gong show for me.

After 5 hours of round trip driving and a long day of coaching youth wrestling in a noisy, crowded gymnasium Saturday, I had spent the night at my cousin's in Toronto. And slept, unwittingly, with my cousin's cat, who curled up around my face whilst I slept - triggering my brutal allergies (intentionally?). So, that is how the day started: puffy and wheezy. 


In this congested condition, I also had to deal with truck difficulties that had me stranded in the city, forcing me to postpone two afternoon appointments in Orillia. Cue my phone ringing unexpectedly (as I had not noticed the time), with a potential coaching client calling for her initial consultation: change gears, focus, listen, process. I ignored several text messages during the call, which turned out to be from a close friend whose teenage son had just been arrested following a string of terrible decisions. As I began to reply, my battery died. Then I made the trip to the bus terminal, on a delayed-by-track-construction subway - only to find out I had just missed an Orillia-bound coach and had almost three hours to wait for the next one. 


So, at mid-afternoon, I found myself sitting, tired, sneezing, with a dead BlackBerry, waiting for a Greyhound. It definitely qualified as "one of those days".


If we all know what "one of those days" is, I am curious as to what the opposite is. A day when everything goes right. What is the counterpart of "those". Is it "these"? "One of these days"?


Interestingly, "one of these days" is already taken in the dictionary - defined as "at a future time". Which is how I think a lot of people approach life ... always waiting for better days ahead.


But what if you could have one of these days - a day when everything goes right - right now? Come to think of it, I had one of "these" days very recently. Everything was clicking. Life was firing on all cylinders. I asked and I received. One good thing just rolled into another.


I woke up Tuesday morning before my alarm and read for a while before heading to the gym. After a great workout, I sat in the sauna reflecting on my day's schedule and what I wanted to accomplish.  I would spend the morning writing and working to attract great new coaching clients. In the afternoon I had a hypnosis appointment booked with one of my clients who is reclaiming his health and his life by working off over 100 pounds. And in the evening I was attending a concert at the local youth center, featuring a fantastic reggae/ska band from St. John's, Nfld - The Idlers.


In terms of setting my intentions for my own life, I turned my attention to three things...

1. Generating a fun plan for a special summer trip with my son, Jack.
2. Refocusing my diet on healthy, local, organic, primarily vegetarian food.
3. Finding people with whom to do mud-obstacle runs on a regular basis.

So, with that energy emanating, I went out into the world.

While writing, with a delicious, organic, fair trade coffee in hand, I took a break to watch a video sent to me by a friend ...

I had seen the original many times - one of my favourite examples of unbridled self-expression serving to free others as well. This reworked version, incorporating a great leadership lesson, was an even bigger treat. And it got me looking forward to a music festival on my calendar for the summer, Camp Bisco. "Hmm, I wonder if JackyBoy would enjoy coming along on that?" When I threw the idea out to Jack he was over the moon, especially with MSTRKRFT on the bill.

Just as I was turning my attention back to my writing, the doorbell rang. There stood my mom, dropping off a dozen farm fresh eggs she had just picked up at Fairdale Farm, a local, all-natural, free-range operation started by my friend, Tim Leatherdale. My mom is pretty "old-school" in her approach to food - the four food groups, all things in moderation, everything is better with butter - and sometimes shakes her head at my taste for green shakes and fasts, but she always inspires me with her ability and willingness to whip up phenomenal dishes from scratch tailored to whomever she is with. Even on roast beef nights, she will make several extra vegetables when she knows I am coming. 

After posting "Life Lessons from a Stone Sculptor" to my blog, I checked my email and found a request for coaching from a stranger who had happened upon my writing and felt compelled to "reach out" for help. There were also three messages of thanks from people for whom I had recently  made a positive difference, and some sage advice from an important mentor whose commitment to my success means so much to me.

With all that positive energy in the morning, my day sailed by, and my afternoon hypnosis appointment was fantastic - one of those great exchanges of energy where both parties come away with more, reminding me that life, lived right, is not a zero-sum game.

Just before heading to The Idlers' concert, I received the coolest email - from a new friend, Carrie Adams, who had posted a special vegetarian recipe for me to her Clean Eating blog, naming it "Johnny Waite's Black Bean Death Race Dinner". How cool is that? I also noticed her other blog "Mud Mafia", dedicated to running, which reminded me of my commitment to finding more running partners (check out Carrie's awesome post re: "Clock-Blocking").


The Idlers rocked! This fun, energetic band entertained an enthusiastic, appreciative crowd at the Youth Center, as part of Deb Brown's amazing Stellula Music in Schools program. At the show I ran into several friends. Beth McKean, who helps people express themselves through body movement at Free Spirit Dance, was twirling to the music. Michael Martyn, Orillia's Manager of Cultural Development and amazing musician, was there with his young son. So was Amy Mangan, from Mariposa Folk Festival, whose boy Liam cut the rug with astonishing abandon. As we discussed Liam's beautiful spirit, I told them of my decision to bring Jack to Camp Bisco, also confessing a small concern that he may not entirely "get" the ecstatic, liberating vibe of such an event and that it was a lot of money to spend just hoping he enjoyed it. Out of that honest exchange came two offers. Beth invited Jack and me to attend her upcoming Friday evening class, to help us free our inner dancers. And Michael reminded me that I had loaned him ski gear that he'd like to buy from me - on which we agreed that he would pay for Jack's Camp Bisco ticket and we'd call it even. Wow!

After the concert, I headed to the grocery store to shop for my namesake recipe. While there, I ran into Mark Buckland, who'd lent me my axes for my Death Race training - both of which happened to be in the back of my truck. As I handed them over to him (saving a 1hr round trip drive) I told him about Mud Mafia and my desire to gather like-minded friends to run locally, and Mark signed on immediately. So home I went, to cook, write and plan a run.


Reflecting on the day, I realized that I had nailed all three of my objectives. 

1. I had conceived, confirmed and financed my summer trip with Jack AND found a resource to set a solid foundation of groovability before heading south in July.
2. I had received farm fresh eggs AND shopped for a fantastic recipe that had been generated on my behalf.
3. I had made strides towards my trail-running crew, both in the macro with Mud Mafia and the micro with Mark (for any fans of "alliteration", that is a LOT of M's in a row)

All of this happened with no extraordinary effort on my part. I just stayed in motion, maintained my positive energy and interacted honestly with people. 

Did anything "bad" happen Tuesday? Probably. I don't recall anything in particular, but that is likely because I was so focused on all of the "good stuff". Which brings us back to Sunday. Did anything "good" happen Sunday?

Come to think of it, yes. I had breakfast with some wonderful friends. My clients were very understanding and both rescheduled easily. I took advantage of my time in the bus terminal (and the lack of distraction from an otherwise ever-present BlackBerry) to meditate for a solid hour.  I serendipitously ran into a friend heading north who offered me a ride, giving me an 11th hour reprieve from the bus ride, saving me the fare and adding a great visit. And I arrived home to an unscheduled evening, which I used to catch up on the weekend's emails, write a coaching proposal and watch the classic surf movie "Endless Summer" with my great friend Amanda (who flew this morning to Witch's Rock Surf Camp in Costa Rica). All of which I would have taken for granted, were I not to consciously stop and consider what went "right" in the midst of "one of those days".


What I am now very clear on is this: good and bad happens every day. As The Dude says, "Life is full of strikes and gutters". Except in extraordinary circumstances, it is entirely up to me where I decide to put my focus. When a few things go sideways and you say "that's just my luck", you are definitely going to have one of those days. Alternatively, a much more empowering sentence starter is "oh well, at least I still have my ..." : and insert something to be grateful for even as the shit hits the fan. You'll be amazed how powerful that little habit can be.


If you have somehow missed my many links to Rob Brezsny's magnificent essay "Glory in the Highest", I will recommend again that you read it. Or, if you have already succumbed to my earlier suggestions I will recommend you read it again. But if you really are too lazy to click on the link, here is the final paragraph.

"Let's say it's 9:30 a.m. You've been awake for two hours, and a hundred things have already gone right for you. If three of those hundred things had not gone right — your toaster was broken, the hot water wasn't hot enough, there was a stain on the pants you wanted to wear — you might feel that today the universe is against you, that your luck is bad, that nothing's going right. And yet the fact is that the vast majority of everything is working with breathtaking efficiency and consistency. You would clearly be deluded to imagine that life is primarily an ordeal."

So, to help you have one of these days, I am including one last video. This is something I would have never have stumbled upon had I not Googled "one of those days", and it comes from a world very different than mine. But Lil Rob gets it, and I will be listening to this song again and again!!