Practice

Today has been a pretty long day.  Starting with travel back up from the south, a meeting just shortly after lunch, and some work to catch up on and a final meeting that lasted till 1800 rounded out my activities.  After dinner, I put in just under five miles of walking, and now I'm headed to get some rest.  I am tired.  I did get to see what one of my friends calls the "Panther Plane" for obvious reasons while on my inter-terminal shuffle earlier in the morning in Charlotte, NC.  Here it is.

Nose View of the Panther Plane

Side View of the Panther Plane

I really did not have a burning desire to either walk or write anything this evening, but I am powering through both in the interest of keeping up the practice.  The walk was slow, but the weather was cool, and I found my initially reluctant outlook had taken on a much more positive lean by the end of the walk.  I can't speak to having exactly the same results with the writing, but that is probably more of a function of the limited amount of time I've been practicing this particular discipline.

I hope that a year of practice from now, I'll be able to make that same emotional transition with the writing that is now possible with the walking.  Powering through (even just a little) leaves me feeling better and more accomplished than I did when I was entertaining the idea of quitting...just for one day.  Anyway, I won't bore you any longer with my practice.  This post is certainly not my best work, but they call it work for a reason.  Cheers!

On Alligators

I've been coming to work down here on the Gulf Coast fairly regularly since last November.  On one of my regular walking routes down here, there is a small bit of wooden causeway that elevated about 2 or 3 feet above a creek that is famous for hosting easy to view alligators.  Starting in November and lasting all through the winter until the middle of April, I was constantly on the lookout and eagerly anticipating seeing my first "alligator in the wild."  I even went so far as to conduct a bit of internet research on the cool season habits of the American Alligator.

What I learned indicated that it was not unheard of completely, but pretty rare to sight an alligator out of its den until the water temperature had a chance to come up a bit from the high 40 degree Fahrenheit range this area experienced in the winter.  I would probably just have to wait till spring to see my first alligator.

Those facts did not keep me from looking, and they certainly did not tamp down my anticipation very much.  I'd walk, and I'd look.

Eventually, warmer weather rolled in, and I was gifted my first alligator sighting in the middle of April.  Since then, I've become familiar enough with the two that generally hang out in the vicinity of the catwalk to recognize them by sight.  There's a short thin one and a short girthy one with a big head.  I have had only one walk since mid-April where I did not sight one or the other or both.  Today, the short thin one was there lurking around at the base of the bridge.

You can just see his head between the second gap in the closes bridge pilings from the right...not very impressive, I know, but he wasn't cooperating for a close-up photo today, and I like to keep imagery contemporary.

If I keep coming down here, I know that one day this fall both of these guys will crawl back into their holes burrowed out in a bank, and once again I'll be left in the cool of the season without the little burst of adrenaline that sighting an alligator gives me even to this day.  I'll be left with the warnings and the memories until next season when I may get a chance to see them for another round of heat and humidity.

The Warnings

Those are my thoughts today on alligators.

A Long Day of Non-Pedestrian Travel...And Gratitude

Today I was afforded the opportunity to spend a great deal of time in airports and on the road between airports.  Four states (MD, NC, FL, and AL) and the District of Columbia (DC).  It was not the smoothest travel day I've ever experienced, and the scenery for a number of hours looked like this:

Actually this was one of the better scenes - Notice that there are only embryonic thunderstorms and not the fully developed variety that was the source of some delay later in the day.

Even though I was on the road again, I was accompanied on my journey by some lovely ladies:

Beth and Kristy were there for me from the start.

Stranded in Charlotte, NC for a little bit, but at least I was with the Twins

I did manage to get in a relatively short pedestrian excursion earlier in the morning, so I kept my running streak going, and I'm still on track for the daily average over the course of August although it cost me all of my cushion.

At the end of a day like this it's probably best if I end with some gratitude, so with that in mind I am grateful:

1.  For having a good job that never really gets boring...much to my chagrin at times.
2.  For being able to get into an aluminum tube, travel about 500 mph over 1500 miles, at 30K feet (that's 5 miles) above the surface of the earth and ultimately arrive safely.  It's pushes the limits of sanity if you think about it too much, so I don't.
3.  For the noticeable uptick in the quality of foods available in airport terminals.  It's still delivered to you at company store rates (another First World Problem), but gone are the days of the soggy gas station sandwich delivered at those same usurous rates.
4.  Air conditioning.  You only have to step in the elephant like blanket of heat and humidity in the deep south once to be grateful for the engineering behind this little luxury, but it's good to be reminded of the benefits from time to time.
5.  Hotels that know me at the front desk and have the room key ready after a long day of travel.
6.  Connectivity, so I can make quick in-stride adjustments that suit my plans and requirements.  At one point today, I was simultaneously on the phone, talking in person to a ticket agent, and using the Oracle (Google) to provide insight into optimal routing and rental car reservation adjustments on the fly.  I remember when I used to get once a week phone calls from Rory Conlan from England through the SATCOM network for about $8/min.  You could actually hear the echo and feedback as the radio waves made the measurable travel up into orbit and back down again to the ground station for further processing.  These were analog lines for the last mile.  The rise of the connected individual is truly remarkable in the last quarter century.

There are so many more things to be grateful for, but for now I'll leave the scene with these.  It's an early morning tomorrow, and I've got a comfortable bed that's calling my name.

The Next Right Thing

I caught myself overstating a slight case of anxiety by projecting forward and saying that I "regretted even signing up" for an event that is not even scheduled to take place until October of this year.  The event is one of those long distance team relays where 12 or so individuals run or jog relatively short distances (5-10 miles each leg) for 28-36 hours and cover a seemingly impossible trek of 200 miles or so on foot.  The event that I signed up for with 11 other people from work is the Bourbon Chase that meanders through the horse country of Kentucky.  A quick ramble through the website indicates that this event will probably be a pretty good time.  At the very least, there will be no excuse to not absolutely soak in the beautiful weather and scenery in one of the more lush and verdant areas of the country.

The context of my overstatement of regret is only marginally important.  I was trying to empathize with someone who was expressing some level of anxiety about the prep work associated with the run and the way that some members of the team seemed to be taking what should be a relatively relaxed period of camaraderie (in my august opinion, of course) and turning it into a slightly more competitive event.  The downside of my overstatement of future regret is that it was really not the truth.  It's impossible to prophylactically regret something.  That kind of thinking just defies logic.  When I signed up for the event, I remember considering whether I really wanted to participate or not and coming to the conclusion that on this occasion, I was going to be the "Yes Man."

I should have told her the truth which was that I too was experiencing a degree of discomfort and anxiety about how the run-up to the event was being managed, but that I really do believe that the event shows a high degree of promise in turning into a really good time.  That answer would have had the advantage of being aligned with the truth, and instead of feeding into both of our collective states of unrest, it stood a chance of calming both of our nerves and letting us get on about the business of preparing in the best way that we know how to prepare.

Walk the Path that is Laid in front of You

I should have known better, and I should have stuck with an assessment of the situation that was closer to the truth of the matter.  I hang out with a group of people who are in the habit of reminding each other that often when facing and uncertain outcome, which as things turn out is really all of the time, one of the best ways to deal with uncertainty is to just "Do the next right thing."

Doing the next right thing is a really pragmatic philosophy. It does not require that I do the best thing or even pick the least worst option.  What it does require is that I shrink my time horizon to a short enough future interval that the next right thing manifests itself as the obvious.  It's easy to write but takes a great deal of discipline to accomplish.  I failed to follow this sage advice when dealing with something as trivial as a race (a fun one at that) that is eight weeks in the future.  I fell back into old habits and borrowed not only imagined trouble from the future, but I also returned with a regret for something that has not and may not ever occur.  It's the height of ego to do something like that, and predictably, that thinking (and verbalizing an untruth) fed the negative energy of anxiety happening in the present.

A better solution would have been to shrink my time horizon to as short as the next breath, take that breath, and reevaluate the situation.  I didn't have to do anything or say anything or be anything (even empathetic) at all.  All the situation required, in that moment, was for me to be present, breath, and listen.

This same group of folks also is fond of reminding me that "Lessons have a tendency of being repeated until they are learned."  I suspect that this observation has been proven out in this situation today.  More practice and less exercise (particularly of my voice) is what's called for more often than not, and so I'll try (perhaps a little more deliberately) tomorrow.

Speaking of practice, I'm grateful for Osteria 777 (a restaurant with an ironic name...a very First World Problem) and the lovely evening they delivered for me and my bride of fourteen years (marriage...not age you dirty pervs).

First World Problems and a Way to Minimize Their Impact on My Wellbeing

I have a handful of what I call first world problems.  It was not always so.  In the not too distant past things like traffic during my commute, standing in line at Sam's Club for the privilege of shelling out three figures for vast amounts of diapers, pork tenderloin, and ready to cook dinners, the constant negotiating environment of working in an office that managed high $M amounts, and paying on the order of $2.89 and 9/10 a gallon for gasoline were major stressors  in my life.  I'd listen to the radio or watch cable news and people I did not know would tell me how these things impacted me, generally in a negative way, and I'd worry about them.

Take the price of gasoline as an example.  If the price of gas was low, I'd be told that it was good for the consumer (presumably me), but it was damaging the earning potential of large market capitalization energy companies and was putting downward pressure on the economy.  I felt just a little bit more wealthy, but I was waiting on the other shoe to drop in the event that the economy tanked and my large cap mutual fund took a beating week after week.  If the price of gas was too high, someone would tell me that I had less disposable income to spend in a discretionary manner (entertainment being a big part of that "budget"...more on that later), but the economy was humming and my "deferred" enjoyment (again the large cap mutual fund) was collecting all those nickels and dimes that would one day make me a millionaire.  It didn't matter if the price of gas was too low or too high.  Someone was always willing to tell me how it was going to bring me down if I were willing to listen.

I have found a cure in my walking to these first world stressors, a way to find fulfillment in the way that I choose to entertain myself.  In fact, I'd go so far to say that I rediscovered a bit of the art of recreation in the millions of trudging footfalls that I've managed to take over the last several months.  It's recreation rather than entertainment because each step, each breath, each blister, and each foray into the heat or cold or glorious crisp temperate morning was a process of re-creating my outlook.  I soon realized that I no longer had to pay (with that decreasing disposable income) for the privilege of having someone else tell me what I needed to worry about.  I don't have anything really to worry about.

As I was walking through Sam's today, I realized that I am  wealthy beyond all reasonable expectation.  I left with 7.5 dozen eggs, 2 lbs of pork, 4 loaves of bread, 36 cups of yogurt, and enough cat food to last my overindulged felines a couple of weeks.  I had enough money in my bank account to pay for this bounty, and I only had to spend about 7 minutes in line to do so.  It might be a problem, but it's a great problem to have.

I used to hate going grocery shopping, but over the course of the last couple of thousand miles of pedestrianism, I found gratitude along the way, and my life is much richer for the experience.

This is the sight that greeted me this morning about six miles into what ended up being about a twelve mile day:

Anacostia River Sunrise

This glory of the universe happens on a rather routine basis for me now, but it never grows old because it is different every time.  This type of vista communicates both my smallness in the face of the great cosmic powers and my special place in the grand scheme of things for being given the gift of taking it all in.  The price of gas may rise and fall, but this will happen again tomorrow, and it will be fantastic.  I don't even have to be there to witness it, and the greatness that it represents will still be displayed for anyone who will take the time to observe it.

One other thing that I saw this morning was further evidence (if you're still jonesing for someone to tell you what to think of the beauty that surrounds you ever day and how it is evidence of some lurking disaster):

Those Crafty Masons And Their All Seeing Eye - Watching Over
Our Nation's Capitol - Waiting - Plotting - Mustering the Resources
To Install the One World Order - Our Freedoms Under Attack

All of that might be true, but I doubt it.  Sometimes a pyramid shaped mosaic is just that, and the location, particularly after a bit of low intensity exercise (actually practice...at recreation) was a glorious place to start a day filled with gratitude for my first world problems.

Escaping, Shrinking, and Enriching

Wold Traveler Bird - West Street, Annapolis, MD

To really understand the nature of the Newport to Newport Transcontinental Pilgrimage,  you should probably understand some of the history behind the idea (and it still remains only an idea) and how that idea has evolved over the last several years.

In the beginning, the idea of the walk was a fairly irresponsible escape fantasy.  I was not happy in my work (for no real reason other than a sense of entitlement and a gigantic ego, I might add), I was consuming far too much alcohol, and both of those situations were having the predictable negative impacts on my family life.  I'd sit in my cubicle and think about running away.  Leaving everything behind and just hitting the road.  I suspect it would have probably taken about a week for anyone to notice and then care enough to report my absence at work.  My departure would have probably been noticed at home sooner. At the end of the day, I did not have the gumption to carry through with this idea.  I didn't even make any preparations for it though at the time it seemed like a solution, however temporary to many of my problems.

Fast forward a little bit, and with a little help I reigned in my use of the legal anesthesia, my work life improved, and my home life, though challenged, began to take on a semblance of tolerability.  The one thing that didn't vanish from those dark days was the kernel of the idea of walking.  The thought had taken root and I just couldn't let go of it.  Certain aspects of the idea began to shift.  Instead of seeing it as some last great cannon ball run across the country to escape my troubles, the thought of walking shifted to being a mechanism to shrink my world.  I thought it might be a way to keep my thoughts in the present.  To focus on the relatively mundane happenings that were occurring about a meter in any direction from where I found myself in the universe.  I needed a way to bring myself into the present.  I was no longer a mechanism to escape my past, but it did take on the theme of escaping my imaginings of the future.  I thought that if I walked, I could focus on what was happening just a few paces from where I was sitting.

Another development happened around this time.  I actually started to walk.  My initial efforts along the B&A Trail that runs between Annapolis and Baltimore in Maryland were not particularly successful in bringing me into the present and shrinking my world.  I found myself thinking of the next three of four miles and imagining what they would be like to traverse.  I was restless, and if I'm honest I was bored.  Walking was also surprisingly difficult physically.  My feet hurt.  I chaffed.  Don't get me wrong, I could strike out and cover a couple of miles in relative comfort, but then my mind would begin to wander.  It would wander forward and backward.  It was also a relatively solitary exercise, and I found that I did not particularly enjoy being in my own skin.  The downside of walking was that it was doing exactly what I hoped it would do, and it was shrinking my world down to the meter around me.  There we no great distractions to take my mind far away from where I found myself at a particular moment.  The great thing with walking was that it took a fair number of moments, trudging along, to change my environment appreciably at all.

For reasons that are really not clear to me even now, I stuck with it.  Slowly, incrementally, walking became a practice rather than merely an exercise.  What started as an exercise in boredom became a time where I could quiet my mind with practice.  I learned not to worry about mile #8 when crossing mile #1.5.  I shrunk my world to the meter around me.  I learned not to imagine how tired I'd be in two hours.  I learned that it was enough to take the next step.

Somewhere along the way, I started to observe rather than see.  I started to pay attention to what was happening, both within and without.  The boredom receded.  The worry about the future and escape from the past grew less.  I started to see and hear and smell things that I had long since discounted as unimportant.  I began to see the value in things that I'd previously defined as unpleasant.  I began to enjoy them.

I've stumbled across two great paradoxes associated with my walking.  The first was that I could not ever escape by this creepingly slow means of transport.  Those fantasies were about escaping my situation, but at the end of the day, I was creating those situations, and walking is a terrible way to escape from oneself.  My fantasy was a fallacy since the means of escape (as I experienced) ensured that the thing I was running from became front and center to my existence.  This had always been the case, but it took the exercise of walking to realize it.

The second great paradox that I slowly caught up with (or more likely was just overtaken by) was that over time the practice of walking shrunk my world while at the same time expanding my horizons.  Even though I walk the same paths time after time, I am no longer bored.  The scenery and environment are always different and new.  The process of creation is alive and well all around us, and if I take the time to observe it, live in it, drink it all in and revel in the glory of it, I am content.

That's a whole lot of words that inadequately describe a bit of the journey I've traveled to get to this moment right now, so I'll leave you with some pictures captured during my walk today.  I've seen versions of all of these things numerous times over the last eleven months, but for some reason all three struck me today.  These images were all new and exciting and thought provoking earlier today.  They were that way in spite of the dozens if not hundreds of times I've encountered them before.  Today, I found them enriching and I really don't know why, but I'm grateful that they did.

Miss Anne II at the City Dock in Annapolis - The winding key on top is new this season

Main Street, Annapolis - Generally looking North

It's Been Quite Awhile

Ironically, just after I posted about my intentions of posting more frequently (once a day if I recall correctly), I took about 11 months off.

There are plenty of excuses I could use, and I did pick up my walking quite a bit shortly thereafter, but suffice it to say that the intentions while good were insufficient to keep me headed in the right direction.  C'est la vie.  I have had some fantastic experiences during that time, and I'll leave you with a photo to whet the appetite.  As mentioned, my walking picked up quite a bit, and that effort to shrink the world and slow down a little has become quite paradoxically one of the more expansive efforts that I've ever experienced.  It's been a great trudge, and I'll leave you with a picture from the time that I've been away.

Sunset over Mobile, Alabama