Motivation, Creativity, and Adventure

How many of you work out to stay in shape, or for any other purpose other than for the love of that activity? Have you ever told yourself that you should go work out, because your body will like you for it, and you’ll feel better about yourself? Perhaps it’s even something that you enjoy doing, but you just can’t seem to get yourself off the couch to do it? Well have I got the product for you! It’s the all new…ok ok, I won’t scare you with the threat of another cheesy infomercial. I assure you that I’m not selling anything here. In fact, I’m right there with ya, folks. Motivation can be elusive, even for the things you know you’ll enjoy once you’re doing it.

Running was like this for me ever since I started in late high school. It doesn’t help that I hated it when I initially joined the cross-country team senior year, joining mostly because I injured myself during soccer tryouts and couldn’t play. My initial experience with distance running was not fun – in fact it was quite painful – and it definitely put a blemish on the years to come, even when I came to enjoy running more. In college and beyond, there were certainly the days when I longed to get out in the sunshine and run a few solid miles along the river. It was invigorating, and a great way to crosstrain. I never saw it as a means in itself, however. I ran mainly to stay in shape in the off-season, to supplement the soccer season and compliment the climbing season, adding cardio endurance to brute strength. I threw in a few 5k and 5-mile races here and there as well to keep it fun and enjoy some competition, a trait of my personality that I’ll never shed.

As I’ve mentioned more than a few times, my experience at “The Big Juan” last summer changed everything for me. I saw running from a completely new perspective after that. Running became an adventure, not just something that people do to stay in shape or because they just love running. I had never learned the love of running for the sake of it, so this new love was enlightening for me, and the key to keeping me interested and motivated.

Since then, I’ve altered my approach to training. I try not to pick a route that’s easy or close by and run it just for speed (although I still do that sometimes), but rather I use the running as a means to go new places, see new things, and explore the unknown. I’ve explored new sections of my neighborhood and beyond, finding all kinds of cool little points of interest, including the Little Free Library and the tiny locales that I didn’t know existed. The grandest adventure I’ve had thus far was last weekend, when I finally put into fruition a plan that I hatched a while back.

I’ve been more interested in point-to-point runs lately, because it doesn’t require repeating parts already traveled, and as comedian Lewis Black points out when lamenting about the pointlessness of treadmills; “It seems to me if you’re gonna be running, when you’re done, you should be somewhere else!” Now, I have no problems with loops, but for some odd reason, doing a 12-mile point-to-point seems much cooler than a 12-mile loop, so I set out to find some feasible p2p’s that fit into my training program. Just for the hell of it, I checked to see what the distance would be to run from my house to my parents’ house in the suburbs, and it turned out to be 12.6 miles on foot. Not only was it a great distance to throw into my training, but as I checked routes, I discovered that I could do the majority of it on trails, separated from traffic, neighborhoods, and general civilization.

My plan was set. I called my folks to see if they wanted to hang out and have dinner on Saturday, and informed them that we would arrive early afternoon. Anna did her long run with her running buddies early that morning, so we timed it so that she would be showered and driving my direction to meet me shortly after I arrived in White Bear Lake. With a great feeling of adventure and challenge, I set out with my Camelbak and pouch belt stuffed with Gu, foot care items, my phone, ID, and credit card, just in case. The run was almost magical. Crossing through previously unseen areas of St. Paul and across the freeway, I hit the Gateway trail and took a moment to consider my task, feeling a new twinge of focused excitement. It’s hard to believe that in the middle of the city, one can feel as if totally secluded in the woods. Although I was still amid civilization, this was the closest to an “unsupported run” that I’ve ever had. Cruising along, I hooked up with the Bruce Vento Trail – a trail I didn’t know existed until I started searching routes – and chomped on my gel to keep me moving. The trail was practically desolate, and being alone with just the scenery and my thoughts drove me onward in an almost aloof state, and yet I felt focused the whole time. Of course, the “brain iPod” was in full effect with this song, strangely enough. Hey, it’s got a great bpm for setting a pace. When I hit the backside of the Maplewood Mall shopping district, I knew I was home free. Back on the roads again I picked up the pace, finishing it all off with a sprint to and up my parents’ driveway. Although in the eyes of ultrarunning I had just completed a “normal run,” this was the longest distance I’ve ever covered, and I did it all with just 3mm of rubber underfoot, so I relished my accomplishment.

The best part, however, was walking into the house, my parents looking at me rather quizzically in my running clothes and sweaty, red-faced state, asking me with an almost sarcastic tone, “What, did you run here?” Yep. Then the cognitive dissonance began; “Wait, you REALLY ran here? Where did you start? You ran here from your house?” I like surprising people, and this was just the icing on the cake. That, and the fact that I did my run at a 7m36s/mile pace, quite a bit under my initial 8min/mile goal for the half marathon at the end of April. Altogether, it was a great redemption to the failed 11-miler the weekend before, and proof that making the run an adventure helps more than one might realize. The final fruit of my point-to-point labor, however, was the delicious steak dinner that my folks prepared for us. A grand adventure run, followed by a great (free) meal and beer. That’s what makes it all worthwhile. Thanks Mom and Dad. 

Does every run need to be a grand adventure? Certainly not, but by adding new elements and challenges to the run, you can get your mind off of the dull routine of “the workout.” Adding personal challenges and unique twists of various sorts create a distraction from the regular, and they might be as simple as exploring new territory to see how far you can go, organizing a fun point-to-point run (and possibly surprising friends or family), or doing sprint pickups along your route based on landmarks or people in front of you (“I’m gonna pass that guy before he passes the big tree 15 yards ahead of him”). Part of what made the run to my parents’ house so fun was the element of the unknown, running farther than I ever have before in unknown territory and completely alone. “Do one thing everyday that scares you,” proposed Eleanor Roosevelt, and she was absolutely right. Organized or intentional scariness, as it were, can make for a great adventure that yields equally great benefits, as long as you are willing to take on the challenge and be flexible with the potential outcome.

On a smaller scale, if you’re training for an ultra or a trail race, experiment with your gear and see what works best: hydration pack vs. handhelds, various foods and gut response, etc. For some people, that might be serious business, but because I geek out on stuff like that, it’s fun for me to try new things and see what works best. You’ll need to use your creativity to find what works best for you, and as long as creativity is the goal, you’ll find something interesting and fun, which in turn will keep you motivated. It can actually be quite addicting too, so beware!

As I wrap up, let’s boil it down to a few quick points, shall we? Here are the facets of a true adventure in my mind:

• facing the unknown - unknown places, distances, limits, etc.

• taking on a challenge – test your strength and endurance, your ingenuity, your mental toughness, etc.

• facing your fears – What’s holding you back from doing what you really want to do?

• breaking routine – approach something with a fresh, flexible, creative perspective

One final note of importance is that structured training plans and creative adventures are not mutually exclusive. Structure and consistency are extremely important for successful training, in my opinion, but there is always room within that structure to switch things up and vary the workout. I’ve managed to use my training schedule as the base around which I utilize my creativity, because it provides a starting point that can make finding new adventures a bit easier. Now I look forward to whatever new and interesting challenge I get to dream up, while knowing that I’m still following a plan to make myself stronger, faster, and more competitive. Make a plan, think outside the box, and get off the couch!

In closing, I will amend the words of mothers everywhere and say to you, “It’s a beautiful day outside. Go out and find yourself an adventure!”

A First

For the first time ever, I had a complete disaster of a run today. Now, I've had bad runs in the past: tweaks and strains, forced walking, and the feeling of my heart ready to burst out of my chest on an easy 3-miler, but today was a lesson.

I set out for my 11-miler this morning along with my wife and her running buddies, starting from my in-laws' house in St. Louis Park, which is right along the Cedar Lake Trail. The goal was to head into Uptown and around Lake Calhoun and back, with a quick jaunt up towards Lake Harriet to get in a full 11 miles. Today was the first chilly morning in weeks, starting at a brisk 38 degrees, and I chose wind pants and a long sleeve with a t-shirt underneath. Of course, it warmed up a bit by the end and I was regretting the wind pants, but it wasn't altogether a complete over-calculation. Something was off this morning though, and my head just wasn't in it. I forgot a few things at home that I meant to bring with, and I was feeling somewhat numb mentally. It was, nonetheless, gorgeous and sunny, and it was nice to have a cool morning once again. I do better in cooler weather.

From the start, I didn't feel awesome, just ok. My legs didn't want to go, and my cadence was definitely slower than usual, yet my legs didn't feel tired or heavy. I realized quickly, however, that after a few sweet trail runs this week, I was generally not looking forward to this pancake flat piece of paved straightness, and I mean FLAT! I've always hated long flat courses; my body just doesn't do well with the exact repetition of stride for so long. I need even just a few small rollers to change it up, even if ever so slightly. Anyway, by the time I had reached Lake Calhoun, my right hip flexor and knee were already flaring up. Thankfully, the taping of my blisters worked like a charm, so that wasn't causing a gait change.

Once I reached the lake, things perked up a bit. The people out and about in combination with the lake as improved scenery helped me pick it up somewhat and move more smoothly. Perhaps my subconscious didn't want me to look like a stumbling moron in front of all the beautiful city folk, so I took it and ran with it (no pun intended, if that's even possible). Hey, whatever works, right? It was going well until I reached William Berry Parkway and headed up the only incline toward Lake Harriet. I had pinpointed the exact halfway point earlier on the map where I would turn around on Lake Harriet Blvd, but once I hit the western entrance to the bird sanctuary, I couldn't resist. I've run through there several times in the past while racing in the Uptown Chase, a fun run started by my friend Mel in her quest to create new and fun themes for a party. Anyway, it was great running through there again, and I had remembered that there was an exit on the south side, which I thought was just about exactly where I wanted to turn around. Once I hit that spot, however, I realized I had gone double the distance! This is where I started to get a bad feeling.

By the time I got back down to Calhoun, my knee was killing me, so I had to stop and stretch. From there, things went way downhill. I was shuffling at best, interspersed with walking, and a fair bit of cursing. I wasn't completely pissed, mainly because I had seen it coming, and with the way my morning had started out, it seemed to be the general order of the day. I ran into the girls who were stopped for some GU imbibing, and I wasn't surprised that they were ahead of me. I was doing one more mile than them, and I was moving much more slowly. I stole a quick sip of water from my generous wife, and asked if I could get back on the Cedar Lake Trail on the northwestern end of the lake, as to bypass the whole northern end. I was told that I had to go all the way back to the northeastern end to get on the trail, which is not at all what I wanted to hear, but set out quickly as not to prolong my suffering. Once I actually hit the trail, after two wrong turns, I saw the long, flat, lonely road of loneliness ahead of me, and my heart sank.

The last three miles were excruciating, both physically and mentally. I tried my darndest to keep positive and use this as a means to work on my mental toughness, but it's a fine line between pushing ahead at all costs and seriously injuring oneself, and it wasn't worth killing my training. Walking, shuffling, grimmacing...rinse and repeat. With about a mile left, I saw four people way up ahead, wearing the same colors as my wife and her friends. How the hell could they have gotten so far ahead of me? There was only one path and they didn't pass me! This was my last push of the run, to catch up with them without walking or stopping. Once I reached them, they were walking, so I joined them for the rest of the way. Apparently there was a shortcut to get back on the trail from the lake. Eff.

Since then, both of my knees and my right hip have been annoying, to say the least. We did hit up Pizza Luce for lunch, though, which was a truly redeeming post-run treat, complete with beer AND soda. What can I say, it's how I roll.

All of this has brought about a few observations, concerns, and questions. First, the observations:

• I HATE flat pavement runs. It's not fun, interesting, or good for my body.
• After talking with several distance runners, it seems that there is something magical about the 10-mile mark. It's decently easy to run up to that point, but as soon as you cross that distance, all bets are off. I wonder if it's mostly psychological, but there does seem to be a trend.
• Although I worked diligently with my mechanics and form, my hip and knee still blew up. This either means that I need to address my body structurally through PT/chiropracting, and/or find a mechanics coach to work with here in the Cities, as my first choice is currently living in Oregon. 
• I definitely need to bring water and GU if I'm running 10 miles or more. I figured that it wouldn't be a big deal because of the cool weather and my quality nutrition and hydration this morning, but I'm sure it was a factor.
• Perhaps I should get back to doing more short runs on pavement, instead of doing all of them on trail, and then doing the long run on pavement. My trail race isn't until May, so I should probably stick to more road running - one race at a time. I just love the trails too much.
• Although I consider my run a failure in regard to the goal of the workout, it gave me a ton of perspective and I learned a good deal for the future. That's one of the goals of training after all, isn't it? Now I take that learning and make use of it, keeping Rule #1 in mind - Never Give Up.

Now, the concerns:

• As much as I love and am dedicated to minimalist running, it seems that I *might* need to use more than the Five Fingers for longer distances. I'm not opposed to getting minimalist road shoes with a little more EVA as cushion, but I really don't want to drop $100 or more at the moment. This is a dilemma for me. Anyone know how I can get a free pair of NB Minimus OO Roads? :P
• If I had this much trouble with 11 miles today, how can I run 50 miles in the fall? What if I blow up like this at my half marathon at the end of April? I REALLY don't want to walk during a race. I'm not as concerned with this one, however, because everyone has bad days. Because this was my first truly bad day, I'll be patient and see how it plays out.

Questions:

• Due to finances, I may be able to choose only one or the other when it comes to structural rehab or mechanics coaching. Which one should I go for? If I go for the former, should I see a PT or chiropractor?
• Could it be that my body in particular is simply not meant for distance running, no matter how hard I train, perfect my mechanics, and toughen myself mentally? (See Rule #1 above)

So there it is. I'll wait and see what my body does in the next few days. Perhaps I just need a few days off. I have plenty of time until the half in April, so I can rest a little, focus on the things I enjoy, namely trail running, and maybe (finally) do some more climbing.  I might switch it up a little and do some more strength training and short intervals, just to give my neural pathways something new to chew on.

Until next time. Wish me luck!
 

Knowledge, Good Advice, and Stupid Behavior

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Well, this has been an interesting adventure of a week, partly because of some of the choices I've made in my training. The unseasonably warm weather here in MN has affected everyone in the usual it's-spring-and-warm-so-let's-go-crazy-outside kind of way. Everyone and their brother's dog is outside walking, running, biking, or just hanging out by the grill. Going from the mid-40's and low-50's to upper 70's in just a matter of days has given me the illusion that the end of the school year is really close, and that I'm way behind in my training, but it's only mid-March! It's strange how much weather can affect us, and I am particularly sensitive to it. I'm sure that when I'm old I'll be one of those people who can predict thunderstorms because my knees hurt. In any case, I can't complain about the weather: the temps are comfortable, the trails are already dry, and my feet don't get numbingly cold walking barefoot around the house on our wood floors.

Due to all of this, I decided that it was time to do my first official truly barefoot run on Tuesday. With a temp in the mid-70's, I couldn't resist. I decided to go barefoot for the first short part, and then put on the Five Fingers to finish it out. The point at which I would put on the VFF's, however, was undecided when I left for the run. Now, did I know that I haven't run barefoot for anything more than about half a mile to a mile, and slowly at that? Yes. Have I read again and again how important it is to go slow, both in actual speed and progression of distance? Yep. Did I have all of that in my head when I left the house? Sure. Did I still end up tearing the skin off several of my toes and giving myself blisters on the balls of my feet? Damn right I did. As it usually happens with me, once I'm on the run, there's a disconnect between the logic and knowledge in my head and what my brain actually let's (or makes) me do. There have been numerous occasions when I've made stupid choices that have caused injury, pain, or complete exhaustion when I totally knew better. The best example is probably how I care for my fair ginger skin in the sun. You can imagine how someone who makes the type of choices I mentioned above might have dealt with some disgusting and excruciating sunburns over the years, but I must admit, I'm getting much better in that department.

So what is it about us that makes us do stupid things when we know better? I've heard numerous stories from dozens of people over the years who can relate. Is it stubbornness, a desire to prove that we're hardcore, or are we just having too much fun right until we hit the point of no return? In the particular instance of last Tuesday, I was just having too much fun, and I wasn't listening to my feet as well as I should have. I felt the heat building on a few areas of my soles, but figured a few hundred meters more wouldn't hurt (I really wanted to make two miles even, which I did). Because of that, I've spent the week with bandages on two toes and didn't run again until yesterday. In order to take care of my feet a little better, I took to the trails in my Merrel Trail Gloves yesterday as a sort of compromise and because I REALLY wanted to be in the woods again now that the trails are finally dry. It was actually a great 5-miler, but because I was sockless, the hotspots on the balls of my feet returned and became blisters once again. That will happen with temps around 80 degrees. With all of this, I'm wondering how my 10-miler on the road tomorrow will go. I'm taking it really easy today to rest my feet and am caring for my skin the best way I know how, but the concern is definitely there. The damage is done, and at this point I NEED to be smart, and yet my training plan is in my head, the beautiful weather is calling, and despite the pain and hassle I've experienced, it was still really fun and enjoyable, so what's really gonna make me stop? Middle ground can often be the toughest thing to find.

There seems to be something about human behavior that makes us act contrary to what we know is right, healthy, and logical. I have always believed that the world needs dissonance, strife, misery, and complexity in order for us to actually be happy. The scene from the movie The Matrix was right on, in my opinion, when Agent Smith explains that the first version of the Matrix was designed as a perfect world without suffering, and it was a total disaster because people couldn't handle it. Hell, it's the American Way when you think about it; a person thrives on utter despair to overcome the odds and pull themself up by their bootstraps to become successful and happy. We need the challenge.

All of this can be useful when you think about it. With every issue, one learns both their limits and how to overcome the negative results of said issue when it happens, that is, if they make the conscious effort to do so after it happens. As the saying goes; "If you do what you've always done, you'll get what you always got." Especially thinking in terms of ultraunning, where the race is more of a survival test than a race, if I can learn how to deal with problems quickly and effectively, I'll be more prepared for the future and can hopefully avoid them altogether. It's often not enough to just hear or read someone else's advice, or acquire the knowledge secondhand, but rather we must actually go out and do it and make the mistake ourselves in order to truly learn and internalize it. This has been one of those times. I will now start over in my progression with barefoot running and do it right. To add one more proverb into the mix; "I hear and I forget, I see and I remember, I do and I understand."

With all of this, I'm sure some of you might be thinking; "Well done, Captain Obvious!" Perhaps I am stating the obvious in my observations, but I've found that it's valuable to remind oneself of the obvious from time to time, because that's the easiest thing to overlook. In closing, I'll say to you all, go out and make mistakes! 
**But try and be at least a little smart about it and learn from them.

Symmetry: Obsession vs. Reality

After a glorious weekend of 60+ degree weather and sunshine, barefoot season is officially upon us!  I had a breakthrough 9.25 mile run along the Mississippi on Saturday morning in my Five Fingers, clocking in at a 7:21 mile pace, which is 40 seconds faster per mile than my 7.5 mile run a couple weeks ago! It was thoroughly enjoyable, but my right side hip and knee were hitched up, causing some issues in the second half of the run. I've been trying to solve this issue in the last few weeks in particular, but it's been something that has occurred on and off since I started minimalist running. I know that this is partly a running mechanics issue, but I'm convinced that it's also due to the wonky body I'm working with.

For a long time now I've been obsessed with the notion of symmetry in my body in regard to achieving optimal athletic performance. I've felt that if I can find a way to balance things out, many of the issues I've had in the past will melt away. I'm very aware of the imbalances between the left and right sides of my body through experiences with rolfing and physical therapy, and just in looking at myself and feeling how my body moves on one side or the other. For instance, my right shoulder is a little higher and sucked in closer to my body than the left, my left hip is anteriorly rotated which I can feel in my normal walking gait, and my abs and lower back muscles function differently from one side to the other when I do the same side-isolated exercise on both sides. Now, this is not uncommon, and I won't consider myself a freak of nature yet, at least not in this capacity, but what can a person do about this, and does it really affect performance?

Most people are asymmetrical at least to some extent, be it shoulder height, hip alignment, or even nostril width and ear size. It's simply the way we are, and just like our friend above, it may help us (with super radar hearing), or it might cause issues (he'll never find a pair of headphones to fit both ears perfectly). After doing a little research, I discovered a few interesting things that apply to my incessant desire to be the best athlete possible.

Asymmetrical Nostrils Mess Up Your 800m Time

I suppose that because of my obsession I assumed that there would be plenty of research out there on symmetry and its affect on athletic performance, but I found a surprisingly small amount online. Admittedly, however, I did not delve deeply into medical journals, but rather took what Dr. Google showed me, so you'll forgive me for not engaging in a full-on medical research thesis just yet. In any case, I found two studies, one of which compared best 800m and 1500m times of fifty middle-distance runners after measuring symmetry in seven traits, including things like ear size, nostril width, and wrist width. For those of you not interested in reading the abstract, the conclusion was thus:

"We conclude that symmetry in traits such as nostrils and ears indicates good running ability."

That seems like quite a stretch, and I think the sample size needs to be increased greatly, along with actual measurements of 800m and 1500m times, but it's an interesting idea nonetheless. The second study - a literature review actually - dealt with the effects of bilateral asymmetry on running and cycling performance, risk of injury in otherwise healthy subjects, and leg preference. Although not a study in itself, it did some of the work for me, as it showed that the research on symmetry is less than robust and needs expansion. Alas, the verdict cannot yet be made, although I think I'll go measure my nostrils right now.

Not Symmetry, But Neutrality

In reading the blog by Kevin Neeld, Director of Athletic Development for Endeavor Sports Performance, he discussed symmetry as it applies to hockey players and made some interesting points that are relevant for all athletes, in my opinion. First of all, he points out that the movements hockey players make can cause asymmetries based on repetitive motions on one side or the other, such as shooting the puck from the dominant side most or all of the time. Those continual rotations with body weight on the same primary leg will cause muscles to develop differently on both sides. I would propose that this is true for many sports. For me, my many years of soccer could be a huge culprit, keeping my weight on my left leg to pass and shoot with the right. Any sport that involves shooting, kicking, or hitting from one side of the body could do this.

The second point, however, is something that I hadn't thought of before, and it has to do with what's inside of us, and no, I'm not referring to Gatorade's tagline. I'm referring to the organs in our body. Neeld goes on to note that the placement of the organs in our thoracic cavity may affect the balance of our bodies, such as the placement of the heart and pericardium on the left, the liver on the right, two lobes of the lung on the right but only one on the left, etc. No matter how hard a person works to achieve symmetry both muscularly and skeletally, you can't rearrange your organs, at least not without a Nazi doctor and some serious HIPAA violations. To this effect, Neeld supports the notion of neutrality in athletes, not symmetry, which makes a lot of sense, all things considered. So I guess I'm now working toward neutrality with my body. The question at this point, however, is how do I best go about doing that? Chiropracting? Physical Therapy? Postural restoration therapy? More rolfing? I'm interested in trying - or continuing - these forms of body work, but as they all cost money, I cannot indulge at the present moment to the extent I would like. I also feel that I must do some more research and focus on strengthening my body a bit more. One of the observations from the lit review mentioned above that I find helpful is that symmetry was improved by increasing running speed, and for cyclists, symmetry improved with greater workload. I did notice on my run on Saturday that my right leg felt better when I did some pick-ups and really opened it up, so maybe I just need to run really fast all the time. :)

Needless to say, I am still very interested in this topic and continue to pay attention to my body and how it moves. Perhaps I just need to stop obsessing and focus on getting stronger and moving more fluidly in a neutral state, even if it's not symmetrical. Neutrality, as it were, may just become a new mantra; "I am Switzerland."

On that note, I sincerely welcome your comments on the matter, and would especially love to hear from those of you in the medical community.

As the Swiss say, "zum Wohlsii!"

Badass Defined

Bacon. I could end this post here with a title like that. What's badass? Bacon is. Have you ever thought to yourself, "How can I make this breakfast better?" The answer is always, unconditionally, bacon, even if you already have it on your plate. Think about it; is there anything in the world of breakfast that bacon doesn't go with, either on the side or in the dish itself? Consider how bacon has branched out into the lunch and supper realm: in sandwiches, wrapping filet mignon, and as a means to make damn near any vegetable or edible morsel better by offering it's supreme wrapability that can simultaneously provide crispy, salty, mouth-watering protein goodness. Take a moment right now and google "bacon products" and click on the images search. Go ahead, I'll wait. You found the motherload of bacon-inspired goods, didn't you? Bacon band-aids, shoes, lingerie, wallets, flavored products such as toothpaste, and even a statuette of St. Anthony, patron saint of bacon. Not only is bacon the badass of breakfast meats, it's simply badass all around. Several of my friends - and I've heard stories of countless more - lost their vegetarian fidelity to bacon and never returned to meatless consumption. Bacon has even become a sponsor for athletes, and badass athletes at that. My proof is in this video:

Bacon as "kryptonite?" Nooooooo! It's the secret weapon, you ignorant reporter! A thirteen-year-old with common sense (and some serious strength) is all you need to attest to that, although her coach does phrase it well; "Bacon is sooooo good!"

Now that I've got you all obsessed and drooling about the world's perfect meat (feel free to fry some up for a snack while you read, because this one's a long one), I'll continue on into an exploration of what badass truly means, seeing as it's the title of my blog. Here are the essential questions I posed to myself as I embarked on this task:

1. Anyone can do something badass, but what makes a person a complete badass - a well-rounded, balanced-diet of a badass, if you will?
2. What are the absolute necessary qualities of a badass, and which qualities are simply a bonus?
3. Can you learn and practice to be a badass, or is it simply innate?  In other words, we're talking about ye ol' Nature vs. Nurture debate.

Let's get started, shall we?

Question #1 - There are many ways in which someone can do something badass. It takes daring, intelligence, and oftentimes a certain amount of style, but it's certainly possible, and I would gather that almost everyone has done something badass at one time or another, simply because humans tend to thrive on adversity. The world would be a seriously boring place if everyone were happy and there were no obstacles to overcome. Such badass accomplishments could range from enduring prolonged exposure to harsh elements under extreme pressure with few materials, such as the survivors of Uruguayan Air Force Flight 571, or facing one's own inner demons to overcome some insurmountable mental, psychological, or physical task, such as the myriad success stories on "The Biggest Loser." The difference between that, however, and being a badass, deserves note.

Let's take, for example, an irrefutable badass like Bruce Lee. If we refer back to the original tenets of the definition I gave in my first post, we can all agree that Mr. Lee was intelligent, technically proficient, and driven by challenge. There was something distinct in his character that caused him to exude badassity...badassness...badassitude. He continually pushed the limits of martial arts, challenging not only himself both mentally and physically, but also the structure and format of martial arts in general. To this degree, I would say that being driven by challenge should also include challenging the status quo and not just oneself. A true badass, I would argue, is a source of change in the world, whether they know it or not.  I shall continue more on this when dealing with question #2. When asked to define what a badass is, many of you might simply answer similarly to the statement in the picture below.

"You'll know when you see one"

We can all picture someone who embodies this word, and in many cases it's just plain clear, but is there more to it than just following the three points in my definition? Are all three points of my definition valid, or do they need to be altered? Let's look at the general qualities of a badass first before we make the call.

Question #2 -As I've pondered more and more, there are quite a few qualities that come to mind when considering various badasses: toughness, ingenuity, skill, calmness under pressure, grit, control, strength, doing things on one's own terms, defying the status quo, and disregarding other's opposition and doubt, among others. Which of these, however, is an essential and necessary truth shared among all badasses?

Let's look at the original three first: intelligence, being technically proficient, and driven by challenge. The first seems like a no-brainer to me (no pun intended). Can you think of any true badasses who are also total meatheads? There needs to be something more substantial upstairs than a box of day-old doughnuts and reruns of Tom and Jerry. It should be noted, however, that intelligence isn't just how well you do math, knowing all of the German philosophers and what they stood for, or having a PhD in Science like our favorite TV scientist. According to the Multiple Intelligences Theory of psychologist and Harvard professor of neuroscience Howard Gardner, there are at least nine different types of intelligence that humans have in various combinations of aptitude and preference, and they are: linguistic, logical/mathematical, bodily/kinesthetic, musical rhythmic, spatial, naturalist, interpersonal, intrapersonal, and existential. Does this mean that a person could be an interpersonal badass? Do you know any naturalist badasses? The possibilities do seem viable, and when we talk about intelligence, there are certainly many ways to determine this.

Technical proficiency, being the second tenet, implies an amount of skill and precision in what the badass excels at, or in other words what the badass is known for. In order to be a badass, you must not only be good at something, but be able to do it in a way that stands out, which further implies proficiency, be it proficiency in a particular athletic discipline, proficiency in follow-through, or just simply at kicking ass, like our good friend Bruce Lee. Although a person may not seem proficient at the main goal they strive for, I would argue that proficiency in some other trait that will help them achieve that goal must be present.

Finally, to be driven by challenge seems ultimately vital to me, perhaps more so than the first two. There is no such thing as a lazy badass. Achievement must be among the traits of a badass, and not simply easy achievement, but conquering adversity in some way, shape, or form. As previously mentioned, the adversity conquered often changes perception in human possibility and alters the status quo, proving that the impossible is possible, just like Gordy Ainsleigh did in 1974 when he ran 100 miles in under 24 hours along side racers on horseback competing in the Tevis Cup. This is a badass who changed the face of trail running forever. He is also a badass with a heart of gold, still competing in the Western States, and giving hours of free chiropractic adjustments the day before the race at the pre-race meeting. Living life on your own terms, while simultaneously caring for and connecting with the people around you is truly the ideal badass, in my opinion. "Be the change you wish to see in the world," says our peace-loving badass friend Ghandi. I bet you never thought of Ghandi as being a badass, did you?

Furthermore, I would like to clear up what I find to be misuses of the word. The first is for a person who is simply strong or tough. A guy who can do 100 lb. bicep curls is not a badass, he's just strong. The same guy might be wholly unable to lift his own body weight over a fence (or wipe his own ass with all those muscles, for that matter). In the same light, having only toughness might help you make a name for yourself, such as with this guy:

"I pity the fool who tries to get me on a plane!"

But toughness alone does not a badass make, especially when you attempt something like this:

It's awkwardly cute, isn't it, folks?

The second case of misuse invovles people who are labeled a badass because they do everything their own way and don't care what anyone thinks, regardless of who they hurt or what they destroy. Now, don't get me wrong, I believe that following one's own path and living life on one's own terms is key to being a badass, but without concern for others and the world around you, you're not a badass. You're just an asshole. It seems there's a fine line in that distinction, but it also appears with all this rambling that we're closer to finding a few necessary truths: intelligence/reason, technical proficiency, driven by challenge, confidence in following one's own path (aka daring), and concern for others and world, which may manifest itself in various ways.

Let it be said that I do not consider myself to be a badass, and mostly for one reason - my follow-through. I have always been a little ADD (I use that term non-technically) with my endeavors, following my passions as long as they inspire me, and if I lose steam before accomplishing the goals I've set for myself, it hasn't usually bothered me if I relinquish my hold on those goals and move on. Periodically, however, I look back on the many things I've given up on and feel a bit depressed, as if I haven't done anything truly amazing. Since the inception of my new passion for ultrarunning, I've read a lot about treating it like a survival challenge, which does in effect blur the lines of success and failure, and it certainly changes the rules of racing. Success in its greatest form is finishing the race, and even perhaps in a good position. It might also mean making it farther this time than the last before you're yanked from the course because you haven't made the time cutoff. Failure, on the other hand, might mean not finishing, or worse yet by ending up in the hospital with kidney failure. This has challenged my definition of success and failure. If I don't finish the race, but I'm still upright and all body processes are functioning within the normal range (or maybe just slightly outside of it), that's not a total failure, because there was an adventure involved to which I gave my all, and most likely I learned something for next time. Because of this unique notion, I feel more inspired to go for it, because the stakes are what you make them, and failure will provide a positive learning experience.

For whatever reason - how I was raised, something I experienced early on in my childhood, or just my general wiring - I have never been ok with failure, and therefore have simply not done things that might cause me to fail, and I believe I've missed out on some huge opportunities for adventure, growth, and self discovery. Thus, I must add grit - otherwise known as perseverance - to my list of required qualities of badasses, because it acts, in and of itself, as a catalyst for self-discovery, which in turn leads to the daring of following one's own path, a necessary truth already on the list.  Quitting is not an option, even if failure is evident. I will refer you to "the Rules" that were laid out by my friend Sam Jurek (no relation to Scott), as he also embarks on his personal quest to be a badass, although he may not qualify it in that way. The version we discussed last summer at Western States included slightly more harsh language for #3, and rule #5 was slightly different, something to the effect of "It's probably your fault," but no matter. The key here are Rules 1 and 2. If you want a good example of these two rules, check out this read, and you will surely see a badass in action, although I guarantee some of you might question his intelligence, which brings me to the final point in question #2.

"But what about those people who refuse to give up and drive themselves to near oblivion in the process?"

It seems there must be a distinction between being a badass and having a death wish...or being just plain stupid. In this current age in particular, there has been a surge in people wanting to test the limits of human potential, going bigger, faster, or longer. I could list a ton of examples, some of which are truly inspiring, and some which make me question what on earth is going through the person's head, other than a stiff wind. The key here, however, is to "know thyself," just as free solo climber Alex Honnold does, seen in this segment of 60 Minutes, with the key comments starting around 9:09. An outsider can certainly look at someone and say that they are crazy, but only the person themself can know what they are capable of and willing to risk. The intelligence piece is knowing yourself well enough to not risk everything, but rather to walk that fine line as an art in itself.

Ok, so let's take stock of what we've got so far. We have the original three tenets I posted in my first post, along with the qualities of daring, concern for others and the world, and grit. Now on to the final question.

Question #3 - This question is the toughest one for me. Of course, I want to believe that anyone can become a badass, but something inside me says that one must be born with a certain amount of natural BA DNA, if you will.  Most of the qualities mentioned above can be practiced and honed, but I would argue that for some, a major trigger event is necessary to set them in motion, for example fighting and beating cancer. Let's face it, people are lazy, and you can't be a lazy badass. Intrinsic motivation can make a huge difference, but I don't think it's a necessary truth, because extrinsic motivation can be equally powerful. To this effect, I have noticed two types of badass:

1. The Obvious Badass - This person may be intrinsically or extrinsically motivated and is clearly focused and driven. People in this group are not only those who don't give up in the face of adversity, but also excel in this state in an open and public fashion on their quest for personal glory, such as climber Chris Sharma. Note that I use the term "personal glory" not to allude to selfishness, but simply as a means to make a name for oneself.
2. The Unassuming Badass - These are people who may be somewhat reclusive and introverted. They don't look for outside validation or fame of any kind, and in many cases, they may not even know how badass they are. They may also be people who are simply following a passion that takes them well into the realm of determination, toughness, and challenge. After watching a Discovery Channel documentary on the Iditarod sled dog race across Alaska, labeled as one of the toughest races ever, and certainly the toughest sled dog race in the world, female musher Dee Dee Jonrowe came to mind. The most successful female musher in the world today, she simply has a love for her dogs and watching them work. Straight-shooting, practical, and determined, she has made a solid name for herself in the world of mushing. Although definitely not reclusive (she certainly isn't trying to hide with the amount of hot pink on her dogs and her own person), her interviews show a person preoccupied with her dogs and less with herself. Her concern for others and the world sets her apart, as proven by the P.R.I.D.E. Foundation she created to promote healthy lives for the dogs.

I will say no more to this last question, as I think it's still very much open for discussion, but I will end with the question my wife posed to me while discussing all of this:

"Why do you want to be a badass?"

A relevant question indeed. To be perfectly honest, the title of this blog and my quest to become a badass are both tongue-in-cheek and ancillary. My true quest is simply to improve and excel at not only my athletic endeavors, but in my personal and work life undertakings as well. Consider it my New Year's resolution, as much as I hate the idea of that. I've reached a point in my life where I've grown tired of the undesirable qualities I have, and want to work on them by using sport as the modus operandi. This is all an experiment to see if I can awaken my intrinsic motivation, change patterns and habits in my life that are useless or detrimental in some way, and discover my utmost limits (or at least prove to myself that the self-imposed limits I've presumed for so long are completely worthless). If successful in some or all of those feats, the bonus result would be that I am a bit more badass.

So, my dear readers, as always I will invite you to comment, as I'm very curious to hear your thoughts on the matter, because most of this is just musing on my part, and there certainly is much more to discuss.

Until next time, cheers!

Your parting shot

"He sprints on his hands"

Current Fitness and Training Plans

Ok, so before I continue on with verbose explorations of etymology and other philosophical inquiries, I thought I should discuss my actual training, as this is mostly meant to be a blog about my athletic endeavors. I'll go back to defining and labeling things in future entries, so stay tuned all you word geeks.

The Winter of My Content

Well, I just wrapped up my Nordic ski season and my ninth year as a high school coach. It's always a ton of fun to work with kids, teach them to ski, and get to ski with them. It's great training for me, because I have to be there everyday, and it's one of the few sports where the coach gets to do the workouts with the kids. I typically love the preseason the most when we're dryland training, mostly because I get to spend the most time working out and getting to know the kids. Once we get snow, I do a lot of standing around coaching technique, spend countless hours waxing skis for meets, and freeze my arse off during meets, usually standing at the top of the biggest hill cheering the kids on.  Cheering is great fun, the arse freezing part is not. Needless to say, I don't get to train nearly as much once we're on snow, but this year was different. We didn't have a single meet on real snow due to the crazy warm winter we're having, and most of our workouts were running with poles. Truly, we should have changed our team name to the Nordic Pole Running Team. Regardless, I thoroughly enjoyed it, because for the first time in my life, I've wanted to run more than ski, and I got my wish.

The whole season was a grand experiment. I had started more seriously with minimalist running at the end of the summer, and couldn't get more than 2.5 miles on any given run before my calves blew up. It wasn't until a very informational and educational running mechanics session with JoeDPT in October that finally gave me some insight and better form. Thus, going into the ski season, when I knew I would need to run everyday for an hour-and-a-half including hard intervals on trails, gave me pause for concern, to say the least. It was, however, an amazing breakthrough. I was forced to pay attention to my form and improve so that I'd be able to run the next day. After only a week or two, I was running blistering lactate threshold intervals with the varsity boys, and keeping up relatively well! I was adapting, and getting really fit in the process. The trail system is also quite enjoyable.

Once the meet season started I didn't get to run as much, but I didn't seem to lose too much of my fitness. It was only in the last three or so weeks of the season when we made a point to get practice time on snow at one of the various snow-making facilities that my running legs suffered a little. My first major postseason run was last week, and it definitely killed my calves for a few days.

Since then, I've been out running regularly, and all is well. Yesterday I did a 4-mile tempo run at 6:54 pace, which is by far the fastest pace I've run, and for a tempo that's longer than any I've done before. Today I did an almost 7-miler at an even 8min pace in my Vibram KSOs, mainly because my Merrel Trail Gloves were bothering the top of my left foot. I've been doing all my running (through the ski season and now) in my Trail Gloves until today. The VFFs were ok, but they always hurt my pinky toes, and I stumbled twice on my run today, tearing a small hole in the top of the left big toe. I'm not digging them, but I think it might be because I had socks on too. They work best without socks. In any case, I'm extremely happy with where I am in my training, and am excited to continue on.

What's Coming

So I came to the realization that I should probably consider an actual training plan for my half marathon in April and the 25km trail race in May. I've always been Jekyll and Hyde with this type of thing, because exercising is how I let go of all the stress from constantly planning things in my teaching and with my personal life, and yet I am a planner and love efficiency and maximizing output. Part of me wants to just be mindful of the variety I should have in my training and just go with what I feel I want and should do that day, and part of me feels I should set up a more regimented plan. Considering that my life shifts so often, I've given up complex plans and decided on a few steady routines and flexible options surrounding them in order to reach my goals. Before I go any further, I suppose I should pause and consider my goals:

1) Be able to climb some 5.11's in the gym before the Black Hills trip Memorial Day weekend
2) Run a steady 8min/mi pace at the half marathon (that may be adjusted later)
3) Finish the trail race in 2:30 or under (average 10min/mi pace)
4) Have fun! This includes my training.
5) Use all of this as an excuse to eat lots of delicious food and drink more beer

At this point, I figure I'll organize my workouts around a routine long run each weekend, loosely following the add-one-mile-per-week plan that many marathoners do. In between, I shall consider and do some or all of the following:
- climbing (this is a passion I won't neglect, and plan to climb twice a week)
- tempo runs (3-5 miles)
- hill repeats
- intervals, mostly over/under LT (alternating with tempo runs)
  **description at bottom
- strength/circuits - I don't have access to a gym, so this will be body weight
  exercises, MovNat type stuff, and plyometrics
- Parkour? - I've gotten out of this in the last year, but find that it could be a
  great way to crosstrain, focusing on strength and power in the leg-based
  movements

Once the trails open up and aren't covered with packed ice, I'll be running mostly on trail, and I'm quite excited for the ski areas to close for the winter season and dry up so that I can do some big hill work there. Overall, I'm not worried about the half marathon, but more concerned with the trail race. I'll need to do some serious hill work to get ready for the elevation change. That shouldn't be too hard though, because I'm most excited and motivated for that one, and I like hills.

From my perspective, the mainstays of speed, strength, and distance need to be addressed, but I feel strongly that variety is important, and a body forced to adapt to different types of movement is a healthy one. Keeping your body guessing is a good way to maximize it's usability. Although I won't consider climbing to be a direct part of my running training, I know that it will help to diversify my strengths, and will also give my legs a chance to recover from running while still getting a workout.

So that's it. A loose plan it is! As I said before, exercise is my way to let go, so I'm not gonna stress out too much about it, at least not until I decide that I'm ready to be a serious competitor...with other people. I'm always a serious competitor with myself.

Until next time!  Prost!

**Over/unders - This is a lactate threshold interval workout designed to raise your lactate threshold (LT) and let you perform at a higher heart rate for longer periods of time. You need to have some idea of what your LT is, however. You can either have it measured (there are various ways to do this, most of which cost money), or you can get a general feel for it after a while by noticing the point at which you start to "huff and puff," leading soon after to the burning sensation in your muscles. With this workout, you start by running 4min just under your LT, building in that time to 2min of just above your LT. Drop down for 4 again, above for 2, and repeat once more. That's one set. Do ten minutes of *easy* jogging as recovery and then do another set. If you're a beast, do three sets. These can result in huge gains if done correctly, and it's friggin hard. Good luck!

Inspiration: what it is, what it's done for me, and how a Clark Bar can save your ass

Inspiration. It's a simple concept really, but a word that is often thrown around on sappy TV talkshows and bad local newscasts as an attempt to make people feel good about life, right after they've punched you in the throat with all the hatred, catastrophe, and destruction in the world. It's my firm belief that we need to amend the definition and start using it correctly. Let's take a look at the word itself, shall we?

The word dates back to the 14th century, stemming from the Latin word inspirare, parsed as in - "in" and spirare - "to breathe." It was originally used to refer to an act of influence by God or gods, thereafter referring to the actual act of inhaling, and then taken to a more figurative meaning of breathing into others - an act of stirring new breath or new life into someone. Okay, so I'm a language geek, but this helps me in my point here, because the Merriam Webster definition uses more tepid language to define it as "the action or power of moving intellect or emotions, or the act of influencing or suggesting opinions." You might be saying, "That sounds like an acceptable interpretation," but you'd be wrong.  (insert snarky face here)

Inspiration is not merely suggesting something, nor is it only moving intellect or emotions, but rather in my opinion it is - in its true form - breathing new life into a person to move them to action. It must move the emotions or intellect so greatly as to create new patterns of living, positive changes, and improved resolve in a certain area or areas. It's not enough to see a cute report about a blind boy saving a neighbor's kitten from the tallest tree in the neighborhood that moves you to feel all warm and fuzzy, but rather a report about governmental approval to build a hydroelectric plant in Brazil that will displace 40,000 Natives and destroy 400,000 hectares of rich and vibrant forest that causes you to get off your ass and start writing letters, joining protest groups, and blog about it to create awareness. We must be moved to act.

So what inspired me to start this blog, run crazy distances in minimal shoes, and make my life adventurously awesome? What breathed into me to alter my patterns, provoke change and create more positive results? From my first post (you might need to dig through the vast archive to find it, if you have lots of time that is...at least 2 minutes), you can probably see that my friend Joe and the Western States 100 were the key factors, along with the idea of barefoot and minimalist running, which is true and they remain the largest motivators, but I would say that these were the final tipping point in a list of people and things that have influenced my thinking along the way, adding perhaps a half-breath here and there, but never truly filling my lungs completely with new and fresher air. Let's take a look at some of those key people and events.

1. "The Book" - Born to Run. Okay, I know this is totally lame, which is why I'm starting with it.  Every runner and their grandma knows this book and it's almost becoming cliché at this point, but I must say, it had a positive impact on me and inspired me to think and act differently. No, it is not the reason I started barefoot/minimalist running, nor have I begun to include chia seeds and pinole in my diet, but it certainly renewed my determination to run more often. More importantly, it did two things, similar to my experience at Western States: 1) it proved to me the amazing abilities of both the human body and the human spirit and got me thinking about what I personally could accomplish, and 2) it helped to renew the fun of running by changing my perspective and general approach to it. It is a general human trait to hear about or see something cool/fun/amazing/rewarding and wish to copy it in the hopes of achieving the same end, and I must admit that the quality of Christopher McDougall's writing and storytelling inspired me to start new adventures. That, in its essence, is only a good thing in my humble opinion.

2.  My wife. I have been married for a year-and-a-half now, and I still find my wife just as inspiring as I did in the beginning. She's finishing up vet school, which in itself is an amazing feat, but has also managed to make me think about things in a simple and practical way that cause me to want to change for the better. Because of her I started eating better, signed up for my first half-marathon (I got jealous after she did it last year, so I'm running it this year), traveled more, and have become more introspective about what I want out of life and how we can achieve awesomeness together. I am definitely the more competitive and determined athlete of the two of us, but she has had moments of sheer badassness when we climb. She has led more crazy climbs without a second thought than I have even considered.

My "special lady" atop Gossamer in the Black Hills

3.  David Belle and Parkour. In the fall of 2006 I discovered the sport/art/discipline of Parkour, a means of moving through the environment as efficiently as possible, overcoming obstacles with just your own body, created by a Frenchman named David Belle. David based this new form of movement on the training his father used as a soldier and firefighter with the purpose of "être et durer" (to be and to last). Continuing on the general theme of amazing human potential, I knew I had to explore this unique art of movement. It opened my eyes not only to the potential I have regarding how my body moves, but it also changed how I view the world around me. Practitioners speak of "Parkour eyes" - the condition of seeing normal architectural features or natural landscape as your own personal playground or escape route. As a kid on long road trips, I used to pretend there was a guy on a dirt bike or snowboard (depending on the season) following along side the car in the ditch, jumping over driveways and doing crazy tricks. Parkour has renewed that childish creativity in how I see my environment. It makes the world a little more alive for me, particular in "the concrete jungle," and it has inspired me to move in a direction that will help me to be and to last. A great example of David and his philosophy of human-powered movement can be found here.

4.  Herb and Jan Conn. I have been a climber now for about 13 years, and it's truly the longest and most consistent athletic passion of mine throughout my adult life. My first major climbing trip was in the spring of 2000 to the Black Hills of South Dakota, and it was life-changing. I had visited the Hills once before as a kid on a family vacation, and was struck by the incredible, monolithic spires and needles that stirred in me a desire to just run into the forest and explore for the rest of my life. I didn't get more than 10 feet away from the Needle's Eye parking lot though, before my mom made me get back in the car to continue on. I vowed at that moment that I would return to explore later in life.  Now I have been climbing in the Hills every Memorial Day weekend for the last twelve years, and this year will be no exception. Along the way, my good friend Jen joined us for a few of those trips, mainly because she shares the same love of this place and also worked as a park ranger at Jewel Cave National Monument for three summers. There she met and became friends with Herb and Jan Conn, the local legends who came there after the war (that's WWII for all you youngsters out there) in search of good climbing. There they stayed and explored the Needles, the Cathedral Spires, and the Sylvan Lake area, making over 220 first ascents, using hemp rope, homemade gear, and wearing Keds sneakers. After "retiring" from climbing, they were recruited to explore Jewel Cave, which at the time was a yet unmapped, unexplored jem (no pun intended). Herb and Jan explored and mapped the first 62 miles of the cave, which now stretches more than 159 miles and is officially the second largest cave in the world. For you adventurers, it also has the longest and most strenuous public spelunking tour in the nation, which I highly recommend.

Herb and Jan with the wife in 2008 after a hike

The climbing and caving are badass in their own right, especially when you see the climbs they set up with the gear they used, but more of note to me is how they live. At this point they are now in their early 90's and live without electricity and have only a water pump.  Neither of them has held a steady job since the war, and they make money here and there with their talents and Herb's military pension, but the key is how simply they live. They make their own candles and have a tiny house that I've seen from the outside but apparently no one has ever been in. Rumor has it that it's built into the hillside because it's actually a huge cave that stretches on and on. Whether that's true is irrelevant; the two of them still chop and haul all their own wood for the stove, and they are still very much active: Herb with engineering stuff and writing, and Jan with her music. She has written numerous songs and even has her own CD, a possession I will always treasure. You can get a taste of her music here, although I will warn you that it has children singing instead of her, and we all know that children singing on recordings causes distemper, scurvy, and homicidal madness.

With as truly badass as they are, they are the most humble and friendly people I've ever met. They don't like talking about themselves, but will be happy to show you around and give you advice on good climbs, although the beta will be rather vague, because finding the route is part of the adventure. If you tackle one of their big routes, you might just need to bring a few extra Clark bars, their go-to snack of choice. Jan will certainly give you this free advice; "A two Clark Bar climb is a real humdinger!" Spending time with them on several occasions has "breathed" numerous plans into me to live simply, focus on the uncomplicated joys of life, and live a life of meaning by creating, exploring, and helping others. 

There are certainly others in my life who have inspired me, but I wanted to share the people and things that have had the most direct impact on me.  From time to time, I will devote whole posts to one particular badass or inspiration, as to truly give each their credit, but that's another story.

So tell me, who or what has inspired you to act?  Comments away!