What's the purpose of it all?

The question was posed just as he was about to jump into the water, “What’s the purpose of it all?” My answer was, admittedly with little thought, “There is no purpose at all, and in fact, from an evolutionary perspective you’ve done your job.”

It’s a privilege to have known my friends for a very long time, and as I like to say, “Life is what we have in common” — I’m almost certain I didn’t come up with that but it is apt. Most of us were able to make it up to a friend’s family cottage (that was built in 1904) but not all; life gets in the way of the best laid plans of mice and men. The food was good and the conversation was better; cycling, hiking, novelty waffles for breakfast, boating into town, a fire, and shared memories of a lifetime. It made for a great time..

Recently I read that success is defined as some talent plus luck and great success is defined as some talent plus lots of luck — any way you want to define success, the people around me have leveraged their talents and their luck and done well by any measure. Each of us also carry the literal and figurative scars of a life lived; they are part of our actions, part of how we look at things, and part of the stories we tell around the campfire. It has all made for very rich lives.

The reason I am writing about this weekend at all is because I was dared to write something that involved discussions of our favourite fruit, novelty waffles for breakfast and the advantages of tubeless tires, but not use the word “pithy”. With that little challenge behind me, I will admit the question regarding “the purpose of it all” is still resonating — a question for the ages to be sure and something great thinkers have tried to answer. It was trite for me to answer the way I did but I never said I was much of a thinker, and after putting some more thought into it, I still it haven’t come up with anything else of substance. I wonder if it can truly be answered.

Until there is a better answer, I will continue to work on developing some talent, get out there to make as much luck as possible, and foster those relationships that make everything worthwhile — at the very least, it’s an honourable pursuit. Very much like “light and love”.

For my brothers.

iamgpe

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.