A two year pandemic journal...

It is said, and thankfully I’ve only experienced this figuratively, when the shelling starts, try to get as small as you can.

Whispers of a new virus started in late 2019 and by April of 2020 many jurisdictions had implemented mandatory lockdown in an attempt to control the spread; by August 2021, vaccines were being rolled out and by April 2022 many jurisdictions were opening back up with the promise of picking up where we had left off.

During the time of Covid, my mantra was to get as healthy as I could, don’t get sick and don’t make anyone else sick — I maintained a very small bubble and in effect became as small as possible.

The gym fitness journal I started just before the pandemic offers insights into my progress and the interruptions due to the lockdowns — it is a journal by proxy of what I did for two years. There is an 18-month gap in the journal as a result of the lockdown and the gym was substituted with running the stairs at the Wallace St bridge. My life became very simple. Work; Run stairs; Saturday Zoom call; Check in on my 90-year old father. REPEAT.

My journal became active again after two jabs in my arm and changes to policy — the journal illustrates and notes my progress, injury, more progress, and smaller lockdowns. Stair running started to shift to more walking and hiking which found its way into the journal. The virus itself had also come a long way since the wild type of late 2019 and the Omicron variant has made everything comparatively easier. I am almost at the end of my current journal — dog eared and worn; it has been a great companion.

The last two years have made me physically healthy to be sure — I didn’t put on 114 pounds, I didn’t lose most of my hair, or break a couple of teeth eating ribs, or accidentally stab myself in the cheek when I got overly excited about eating pie. The pandemic is behind me, and I am back to getting out and about, but lately I’ve noticed I’m dealing with things as if I am still trying to be small; two years of instilled habits are hard to break. The time to be small is over and there are things to deal with, opportunities to take advantage of, and a grand life to live. More than ever, this is a time to get big and bold.

Considering what we have on the horizon, big and bold are exactly what we need.

I have my new workout journal picked out and the first thing I will write in it is “Aus der Kriegsschule des Lebens.— Was mich nicht umbringt, macht mich stärker,”*

iamgpe

* “Out of life’s school of war—what doesn’t kill me, makes me stronger.” — Nietzsche

If you want to go far...

Before I take you on a metaphorical journey, I wanted to mention two very important truisms that I was reminded of recently.

Truism #1 — “Shit happens.”

Truism #2 — “If you want to go fast, go alone; if you want to go far, go together.”

A gravel bike race is interesting endeavour — before you start the race everything is made available to send you on your way and when you finish, you are offered everything to celebrate your accomplishment. Between start and finish though, you are expected to be self-sufficient — there are no course marshals, no water stations and no one looking out for you if there’s any trouble. The 65 km race I signed up for was increased to 71 kms on the day of the race, and a decision to turn left instead of right added another 10 kms to that. As I pointed out, shit happens.

I was about halfway through the race when I came alongside three other riders at a stop sign — I quickly joined in as we looked for a green arrow that was a common marker along the route; there was nothing to indicate if we should turn right or turn left. After consulting our phones, various copies of maps and written instructions, four strangers agreed that turning left was the way to go. The next five kilometres of road was a challenging uphill ride and at the crest of a hill one of us stopped. As we caught up, it was suggested we’d turned the wrong way, and grudgingly, we all agreed. We had to turn back.

It was at that moment we:

added 10 kms to the ride.

added at least 40 minutes to our race time because of extra riding, discussions and decision making.

became a small team with the simple goal of finding our way and finishing the race.

For reasons conscious or unconscious, we all realized that there was a better chance of finishing the race if we stuck together — there were more green arrows “missing” but as a group we found our way; we encouraged each other when the trail became extra challenging; there was alway someone who saw the green arrow when others didn’t, and we would take turns with the pace to ensure we all finished. We even tried to help other riders on the way.

After being on the road for approximately 5 hours, 30 minutes and 29 seconds, we all crossed the finish line and thanked each other as we made our way to meet others. I will never know what would have happened if I had been on my own, but what I do know with complete certainty, when Asha, Devon, James and I made that left, I knew I would finish (and I remember saying to myself, “I’m going on an adventure.”)

As I crossed the finish line, I was out of water and food, on the verge of dehydration, cramping in both legs — and for my efforts came in 152nd**.

Definitely doing it again next year.

iamgpe

** Of the 200 riders that started, only 158 crossed the finish line.

"Know Your Measure"

Upfront I will say this is a little self indulgent but so be it.

If I’m asked what I do, I would have to say I spend a good deal of the time trying to “know myself” — something that has resonated since I read about the Temple of Apollo at Delphi in ancient Greece and how “Know thyself” was one of three sayings etched in stone near the entrance. 2500 years is a very long time, and with the passage of time and modern perspectives, we will never really know how accurate this is. Did the ancient greek characters chiselled into the stone say “Know Thyself” or “Know Yourself” or even something like “Know Your Measure” ? We will never truly know, but nevertheless, it’s a noble pursuit.

Of late, I lean toward the words Know your Measure — so much so that I have added it to my tattoo collection along with “Light and Love” which I should also add are two noble pursuits. What we may never know was it self-help advice or a warning — before you enter this temple, you better know how you measure up because you will be tested (or something to that effect).

The other day I was out with friends on some country roads training for an upcoming 65 km ride. We were spread out with me bringing up the rear, and as I passed an entrance to my left, I noticed two farm dogs sprinting down the lane in pursuit. Recognizing that they would easily catch me at my current speed, I screamed we had dogs on our tail and started to sprint with an accompanying surge of adrenaline; the race was on. My only goal in that moment was to stay ahead of them until they either tired or got bored with the chase — and with a final roar of warning and defiance they finally came to a stop and watched me and the rider I caught up to ride away. On this particular day, I measured up.

I’ve been riding for a long time and know that with a reasonable head start I can out pace a dog until it gets tired, but I also know that under slightly different circumstances or a little bad luck, the whole situation may have ended much differently — as they say in the business though, it turned out to be a good day. In the end, all we can do is understand our current circumstances and potential circumstances, critically understand our current measure, and develop our strengths and minimize our weaknesses to deal with them — and most importantly, understand when you don’t measure up so you can go off and better prepare for another day.

My general philosophy is be as smart, knowledgeable and as strong as possible because one day you will be faced with something you have never seen before and you will need everything at your disposal to meet the measure.

And with a little luck, you probably will.

iamgpe