Of fathers

I went to the river on “Fathers’ day” because it was an especially hard day for me. I had lost my dear father exactly 3 months and 1 week before. It was as if when he vanished along with the hour we skipped when jumping ahead to the summer time... With all that has happened since in my life, I have not been able to row, which only made me feel worse. I have fallen again in the same trap many of us often fall into: when things get really rough, we let ourselves carried away and completely forget to take the time we needed to tap into our inner sources of strength.  Why did I deny myself for so long taking the time to be on the water, rowing my single scull at dawn, when it had helped me recover my peace and overall strength so many times before?

On this particular morning I went out on the river later than usual, so I was not very surprised to find myself surrounded by a large number of leisure boats. However, after passing a number of them I realized that the average age on the river was much lower than usual. Every boat carried an adult male and one or more children. Apparently paddling or fishing with one’s kids is a popular way to spend Fathers’ day. I rarely see such mixed age crews more often on the river - I wonder why?

We did not observe Fathers’ day as I was growing up in my native country. I thought of my dad, and tried to think about leisurely activities we had shared. My father used to be a very busy professional and I was a girl. I do remember the three of us (with mom) hiking and the many week-ends when he drove us, my mother and I, out of town to picnic into the nearby woods. He loved to grill and would gather the needed dry wood while I loved sauntering around him picking wild flowers (I gave up on helping with gathering the wood since it never seemed to pass his quality inspection).  Upon returning from the woods, on many Sunday afternoons, I would sit next to my dad and watch soccer together with him, I became a fan of his team – if he ever wished he had a son to watch with instead, he never mentioned it to me…

Actually I cannot remember my father taking me out on the water or participating to some fun activities only with me (mom seems to have been always included). However, I do remember him spending serious quality time with me so many times: explaining, rationalizing, sometimes disciplining, other times encouraging me.  So, where ever the tumultuous stream of my life has taken me, I knew my father was always in my boat. I hope he still is…

Starting to run for all the good reasons

Why can I not resist a worthy challenge, no matter how unsure I may be of my ability to successfully complete it? First, when the goal seems worthy to me, the pain and potential “humiliation” I might have to endure in the process seem insignificant by comparison. Then, I know from experience I had always gained at least some valuable lessons. To top it all, if I do succeed, I feel exhilarated and reinforced in my determination to continue to accept good challenges. This time my challenge was indeed related to participating in a 5K “fun run”. I had good reasons to accept this challenge and to believe I had the stamina to complete it, but I did not know how to actually do it. The lessons I learned are widely transferable.

Sunrise on Lake Michigan

I was attending the annual meeting of the American Heart Association. In the spirit of the conference, the participants, professionals who work in the area of cardiovascular disease, are encouraged to “walk the talk” or rather, run it. My early career mentor, Peter, a dedicated runner, has been asking me on every eve of the run, for almost 20 yrs, if I was going to participate. I have been saying: “No, not this year… I am not a runner, I’ll need to prepare for it.” But that never happened. Not only do I not enjoy running, but by doctor’s orders after a bus accident that immobilized me for months in a hospital bed many years ago I am to avoid any physical activity pounding on my spine. Last year, my mentor finally wore me down. I thought: if I can compete in a 5K rowing race, I should have enough stamina to finish a 5K run, right? So, I ran it, felt good about finishing, but I was not sure I wanted to repeat the experience; however, it turns out that my mentor had asked the organizers to dedicate this year’s run to the memory of one of our colleagues who had been struck and killed by a car while running precisely during last year’s annual meeting. Peter enlisted all the runners who were current members or alumni of his institution, which included me, to wear a tee-shirt displaying the name of our lost colleague to honor his memory. How could I say no to running this year?

I got up really early and put on several layers as my iPhone indicated the temperature was 30 F. I was not sure what runners wear, I had put on a couple of layers, and now I got the extra tee-shirt, however while waiting for all the runners to show up, I was regretting being there so early (I was in the first bus that dropped people off at the site). In spite of the dark, we snapped pictures “before”, we heard some brief talk encouraging us to maintain healthy physical activities, then a couple of short speeches about the person we were commemorating and we held a moment of silence. We were then told to go to the start line by letting the competitive runners start first. In fact, I went around the crowd to snap some pictures of the competitive group, running in place impatient to catapult over the start line.  Only now, while writing this, did it occur to me that their puzzled looks may have been related to the fact that by walking over the start line to take the pictures, I had likely triggered my own timing device! Did I mention that I am “green?” Satisfied with the spectacle of their explosive start, I then walked to the back of the gathered crowd and started my own run from there.

So, here are the main learning points I selected from my (overall) experience of 2 x 5K runs, one year apart (with no training what so ever).

1. Accept a worthy challenge.

If the cause seems important to you, take a chance and do your very best. Worst case scenario, you will learn from it.

2. Seek and follow (some of the) advice.

I knew this would not be easy with no training, so I asked several experienced runners for some tips, “Should I try to touch down first with my toe or my heel? How should I pace a 5 K run?” Their face betrayed their amused incredulity: “You do not usually run??? Well, then… best just forget it!” Finally, Sonia, another of my mentors offered advice that unleashed for me the possibility of participating: “If you really, really want to do it, just take it easy and hang in there!” I decided to go with her advice.

3. Find a buddy (support system)

As I began to run at the end of the crowd, I was still getting passed by many! I felt very discouraged: I was slow even in the slow crowd… Judging by their toned and nice physiques, it seemed that the great majority of runners were fitter or younger, and many were both. Once more I doubted my decision to participate… Then, I finally spotted in front of me someone who was more like me, in fact she seemed heavier. I told myself, “If she can run I can run! I will just try to stick with her for as long as I can”. For a while, I only looked at her back and tried to keep up with her speed, ignoring all those passing us.

4. Enjoy your route, but don’t find excuses to give up/get off track.

The view was really amazing: the sun was beginning to rise over Lake Michigan, seemingly setting its calm waters on fire. If I did not come out here to run at this early hour, I would have not been able to see this remarkable scene from behind the tall city skyline. I kept thinking I may not be able to remember the splendid picture in its full glory. Besides, my legs were hurting, so I wanted really badly to stop, rest, and take some good pictures. I took my camera out of my pocket (I had thought I might need it), but realized that should I stop to take those good pictures, this might just turn into a photo safari. I was there for a different reason so, I stopped only long enough to snap several pictures in the low light. It turns out that many are not in focus, but I was still able to find a few that are good enough to jog my memory.

5. Learn, find ways to compensate for your shortcomings,adapt.

Since having my back injured in the bus accident many years ago, I have a deficit in my left leg that becomes noticeable (to me) with strenuous activity. I had learned over the years how to compensate for it while rowing: I decrease the force with which I push against the boat with my right (“good”) leg to match the weaker left leg. It is easy to tell if I am doing it right, any difference between left and right foot’s pressure makes my single boat veer… While running, I could not pound away with my left leg as vigorously as I could with my right. It took a while to figure out that I could not split differentially the gravitational pull on my two legs, so I resolved to run “softer” (and of course slower).

6. Hang in there.

 I was following the advice, running only up to where it felt hard but not uncomfortable, and keeping the hope that I will not run out of steam before the official finish line. I was making steady progress, albeit many had passed me by. At some point I began to notice people slowing down, and then I began to pass some, including the woman I had resolved to follow. A quick corner of the eye look when passing her revealed she was many years my junior.

7. Aim for a strong finish.

With the finish line in plain view, I tried to gather all my remaining energy to sprint. Someone decided that we needed encouragement and shouted in a megaphone: “Looking good! You need to smile for the finish.” I thought, how could I possibly smile, everything hurts. At the exact moment when my brain rebelled, I felt a violent cramp in my left leg. In a strange way it was reassuring as just moments ago I could not feel my leg anymore, and was wondering if it was still bending correctly or was about to buckle. I thought: “Oh no, I am not going to be able to finish!” My response was to run even faster to make sure I do make it across the finish line, so I pushed my chest forward and hoped my legs will rotate fast enough to keep up with it. I could not believe it, but here it was: the finish arch. After going under it, my first thought was: ”I did it!” Second thought: “Is this real or am I dreaming?” For one, the speakers were still blasting (appropriately?) "Forever young, I want to be forever young" as when I had started running, it felt like a "Groundhog day" type of situation. Then,  a couple of guys watching my finish exclaimed loudly: “Oh wow, that was really impressive!”

8. Pass it on: challenge/encourage someone else!

The reason I wrote about how I was able to overcome this challenge is because I hope that at least one other person will find it inspiring enough to tackle a challenge new to them (not necessarily taking up running), anything worthwhile they currently think they are not capable of achieving…

“If I can run, YOU can run!”  

A case of mind over matter?

“Yes, absolutely: If you don’t mind, it does not matter!’ replied Reuben, the Dolphin Club’s boat captain, who was giving me a tour of the swimming and boating club in San Francisco Bay. What a treat! The visit to the Dolphin opened my eyes to a whole new level of physical and mental fitness needed to swim in the Bay waters and the harmonious cooperation between people who love making headway (moving) in or over the water.

At the end of a business trip to San Francisco, I decided to see if I might be able to row at one of the local clubs. One of the wonderful things I had discovered about becoming a rower is that it creates an invisible but real connection with many other like minded people worldwide. I have yet to find a place that would not extend the invite to visit and possibly row at the local facilities. Googling “rowing in San Francisco” brought up info on several Bay Area clubs. The closest to my location carried the additional designation of “swimming” in its name. I had seen boating, sailing, paddling, and kayaking added to the rowing, but the notion that rowers and swimmers shared a club was puzzling to me. While the e-mail reply warned me that I won’t be allowed to row because I could not claim open water experience, I was nevertheless cordially invited to visit the club.

On a beautiful but chilly early November morning I eagerly walked down Nob Hill to the edge of the Bay. I found myself in front of a building that from the street looked itself as a large white and blue boat. Once inside, I was transported in time! The club, founded in 1877, (see history) boasts in its great wood paneled room a full size wooden bar similar to those I’ve discovered in the old boat houses of Philadelphia – apparently a feature required by boaters till the 19th century… A fleet of large, carefully maintained, wooden boats still used for open water rowing reminded me of other antique boating equipment I had used at the Roskilde Roklub, that is built on a fjord next to the Viking museum in Denmark. Many pictures and trophies documenting a long and proud history were also on display. However, the most impressive discovery occurred when I exited toward the water side of the boat house: people, several older than me, in their bathing suits cheerfully greeting each other while coming out or waddling into the frigid water. My feeling of confidence, gained from sporting only a light leather jacket that morning when most passersby were shivering in puffy jackets and huddling paper cups of hot coffee, quickly gave way to humility! A stunning view of the bay with pink fog rolling in and out over the Golden Gate Bridge added to my awe. It turned out to be a very good day to observe these people whose determination made them not only able to but actually willing to brave the chilly open waters of the Bay. I was shown pictures of 80+ yo members who still swam the Golden Gate Bridge route or had crossed the English Channel.

I asked Reuben what it takes to be able to brave the cold open waters of the Bay? He told me about needing to persevere to gradually withstand water’s low temperature, having the metabolism to sustain the swim, and staying fit into old age. And I learned that this club holds… hypothermia classes. Above all, I was told it’s about a state of mind. As Reuben put it, “We do not have to swim in these waters, we chose – and love- to!” My visit was a revelation. When swimming clubs will be mentioned from now on, I will not automatically picture a pool, inevitably limited in length, with water warmed at a comfortable temperature. I now understood why I was not allowed to row: I needed to be able to swim in those waters should the wake of a passing tanker flip my boat.

I had to leave to catch my return flight, but I had trouble extracting myself from the scene. I had taken dozens of pictures (still hard to find one that does justice to the real thing). One last look: wide sky above blue and gold open waters. Pink fog. The Golden Gate Bridge, Sausalito, Angel Island and Alcatraz. Tankers passing and honking in the distance. Boats and flocks of swimmers crossing in various directions. The smell of bacon. What a morning!

Finding one's 'nook'

We all have a place where we feel on top of our game and are able to do our best, which I’ll call “the nook”.
The Potomac, my current rowing venue, offers two widely different settings. The majestically wide Potomac flowing past the Key Bridge is a mirror to several major Washington D.C. monuments. It is also the playing ground for a flurry of rowing activities starting well before dawn and lasting till dusk: mostly big but also smaller rowing boats working on their daily routines, many with launch boats in town, carrying coaches yelling their stern commands in megaphones that trigger the rhythmic powerful oar sound response from large crews. An ever changing configuration of boats chase or yield, rest or push through the start creating multiple wakes that intersect, aiming for different openings under multiple bridges creaking with trains and cars. A dynamic cacophony of images, sounds, human and mechanical power.

Then, there is the “other” Potomac – the way it looks and feels before it reaches the bridge. As the days grew longer, it finally got bright enough in the morning to be able to row the “younger-wilder” side of the Potomac. I was astonished and relieved to discover that after rowing for just a few minutes upstream, I was surrounded by natural beauty: the banks are forested, and except for that occasional docked kayak or floating fishing boat, there are not many signs of human presence. I discovered different size islands and rocks piercing the water’s surface, fortunately punctuated by blue herons suspiciously checking out my progress. Flocks of cormorants that seem to have gotten over their solitary and skittish nature were hanging out and didn’t dive as soon as I approached. I got to look at their almost rubbery looking plumage (Phelps would probably appreciate such a swimming suit), and I was close enough to notice that their beaks were slightly bent  right at the tip. They would let their heads fall backwards in a mass reaction - seemingly laughing at how much equipment I need to move through the water - or maybe they were just swallowing their earlier capture? The only disturbance was created by large fish unexpectedly jumping out of the water in their mindless pursuit of insects, occasionally startling me and disturbing the mirror-like surface of the water. How can this rather narrow and wilder-looking river so quickly become the huge river formally flowing between perfectly smooth man-made granite banks, under the several downstream but so close by bridges bustling with traffic?

One thing I am sure of is that once I discovered the “other” Potomac, I knew I will truly enjoy my morning rows. The ample segment of the Potomac is great for rowing large boats – in fact those boats don’t dear thread the narrow and shallower waters upstream. Rowing upstream requires a lot of maneuvering – a finesse of technique that interferes with the pure adrenaline-driven type of performance so familiar to the large crew rowing boats. But my kind of rowing is powerful yet mindful, I don’t mind steering a less than straight course. Moreover, I like the peaceful surroundings that allow me to have both a physical and meditative experience in the same time.

If the connection I made this morning with a life/business learning is still obscure to the reader, I would refer to an earlier post “Going solo: small boats and big boats”. This morning I further felt that beyond the choice of medium (equipment!), the choice of environment is also essential for optimal personal performance. We all have to find our “nook,” a place to feel empowered: we have diverse ways of replenishing or generating our energy, which naturally happens in a place that satisfies our individual passions.

I learned that I can row the big Potomac pretty well - I was told (and proven by my survival of the ‘hazing party’ (“ A view to live for”), yet I felt more like I was measuring against Potomac, while this morning rowing upstream in my boat I felt I was Potomac.

A view “to live for”…

My recent experience with trying to measure up against the mighty Potomac provided the most vivid illustration of this twist of the phrase ”to die for” , which had apparently stuck in my brain after hearing it a while back. Those who had similarly gone through serious situations, fearing for their life, yet in the same time feeling elated, will probably relate. No, I’m not going to recount a pure adrenaline-rush episode some seek on purpose, like plunging at the end of bungee cord. Mine was a less contrived occurrence requiring me to put up a good fight, the reward was not only staying alive but feeling overjoyed about being alive (something I would otherwise take for granted).

My professional career created the opportunity to further expand my… rowing horizons. As of April I became a guest member of the Potomac Boat Center in DC, one of the most prestigious and venerable US rowing clubs, situated on the banks of one of the mightiest North American rivers. After a long winter during which I was reduced to sadly contemplating my little frozen lake, I could not wait one more second to experience water in its liquid form. On my first day as a member, I had been summoned to launch my boat well before the crack of dawn, something I never do back home. I was told the basic rules (needed to use boat lights to be noticed, which side I was allowed to navigate on) and some useful information (how far to the last bridge and ‘current is strong today’).

The mighty Potomac, further inflated by the heavy rain in the last few days, was glowing seductively under the full moon, so there I went, taking on it in a light weight single boat. The power differential was a bit intimidating, but the water seemed rather smooth, and the easy going with its flow enhanced the whole magic of the new experience and my belief that “I can do this”… However, after navigating a couple of turns (in the dark!) the water became very rough just before having to pass under a series of bridges. All of the sudden I was sucked into a vortex, the boat was accelerating toward a huge pillar. I rapidly pulled in my oar (which normally hangs more the 6 feet on the side of the boat) completely into the oarlock to prevent it from being snapped. Of course, the boat was now completely unbalanced so I instinctively leaned overboard on the other side while we were twirling together out of control toward the pillar.

I used the blade as a rudder and just when the light boat was about to crash into the pillar, instead of avoiding it, I planted my blade into the pillar and began to push and extend again the oar redirecting the force to push us away from the center of the vortex. Seemed like time stood still, yet the locked dance with the pillar might have taken only a few seconds, then all of the sudden we were set free of its embrace. If I had to plan it, I would probably not been able to anticipate the moves needed to keep us afloat. The experience of less dramatic yet various challenges during the past years somehow combined into an instinctive knowledge of how to maintain the balance. Probably even more importantly, I distinctly remember becoming more calm and deliberate as the outside world started to spin around me. I also remember wondering, almost as if I was looking at myself: “how comes I am still riding above the water?” It was a strange feeling of completely being into the moment, yet rationally thinking about it as if observing if from the outside.
The last couple of bridges I navigated as in trance, then I hit again open water, seemingly reaching the proposed goal for the day and such decided it was time to turn back. The first signs of light helped avoid getting close to the pillars again. Working now against the current, I was making slow progress. Then, the wind really picked up.

My boat, being close to the shore hit by the wind, began to briskly jump up and down on the valleys and hills created by the combined direct and reflected waves. My back was now swept by cold waves, that swept of the boat, soon the hull was completely filled with water, and my legs and feet became submerged. I was pulling my oars very hard threading through the water but it felt as if I was exercising on a stationary rowing machine. I could now see the shadows of some lone runners making good progress on the shore while I was apparently not moving at all; the Potomac was pulling every trick to just not let me go back. I remember feeling my legs were frozen, I began worrying that my back will lock, and although the adrenaline was still giving me strength to continue, I began to feel some despair.

Then… a fire lit the sky and the water, and I found myself under an enormous pink dome. Flocks of black birds began swarming the sky, and I could now make out the white lace of the blooming cherry trees on the shore. I fixated on their joyous image then realized that I was very slowly, but surely, progressing against their position. That made me happy and reassured that if I just continued I would eventually get back to the dock. I then also began to look beyond my immediate surroundings. The DC monuments looked truly majestic from the water, their light stone glowing against the fiery sky background. I thought: 'had I given in to the treacherous vortex earlier, I would have missed all of this. I’m so lucky to be alive, here, at this very moment to see this view from such a great vantage point. This was indeed a “view to live for!”’ and felt elated. I swear the obelisk even winked his red eye reassuringly at me and I smiled back at it. I knew that I will be OK, despite both the current and wind fighting against me, and the extra-liquid weight I had to carry all the way back in my boat. I grew accustomed to the rhythmic sweep of the waves getting all the way up around my waist, then over the boat’s hull, then dissipating back into the rest. I could not go any deeper than that, right? I had been literally integrated by the Potomac. Now, I knew it was just a matter of keeping going and the view was so beautiful that I did not mind moving so slowly.

When I finally reached back to the dock, the boat captain was standing waiting for me, visibly worried. As soon as he had helped me flip the boat to empty all the water, he launched into a quick series of questions: why did I go beyond the bridges? Didn’t I know that even a big 8+ boat got snapped in two by the pillars in such high current and they had to fish the rowers out the water? Did I realize I was the only single boat out there this morning? Didn’t I know it was acceptable in such a life threatening situation to break the traffic rules, why didn’t I row on the “wrong” side to minimize the effects of the wind? I looked at him, lots of answers and more questions running through my mind (why did he immediately tell me how many miles past the last bridge which I interpreted as a suggested trip, why didn’t he caution me about the pillars’ vortex, how could I already know I was allowed to break the traffic rules and not be expelled from the club?) But, then I took another look at the fiery Potomac and decided to stick with the essential. I replied:

“Sorry, just got carried away”…

Get inspired

Being inspired by others is one of the most helpful things in achieving our hard to reach goals.

I have already shared my struggle to keep up my daily exercise routine during this time when I can’t go out on the water… It is difficult to block-off the time and in addition I find erg-ing (using a rowing machine indoors) just plain hard to do! I needed to work diligently on finding ways ("Start with the end in sight") to continue to use the rowing machine, but overall it did not seem to get any more enjoyable or any easier, especially with the long-drawn-out winter this year. No wonder I don’t seem to get any better at it! Thus, it may come across as odd that when I learned of an Indoor Rowing Championship “regatta” in my city, I decided to participate.

I have been previously to a grand total of two similar events. At the first one that happened ten or so years ago, I was able to buy my rowing machine at a discount (after being used during the competition). The second indoor rowing competition took place 6 yrs ago almost to the day. I let myself being talked into a “walk-in,” meaning I just showed up and rowed (no, I did not do great there); however, I have a pleasant memory of their atmosphere, seemingly positively charged from all the energy of those serious about competing. So, I decided to go get energized about erg-ing! Little did I know that I would not only immerse myself in an energizing crowd, but I would also meet two truly inspiring people.

Paul Randall will turn 93 this year and competed to defend his world champion title in the 90-95 yo category. I can say that he is the most energetic 90+ person I personally ever met. I watched in awe as he rowed the physically taxing 2K course and took a couple of pictures of him (stretching before the start and an "action" picture).

After his race I also took the opportunity to meet and congratulate him. He indicated it was not a ‘big deal’ that he beat the time required to qualify for the finals, as he explained it, he had been specifically training for this event since August. I caught myself before asking him “of which year”? But I did ask about his potential association with Indiana University, as he was wearing an academic athletic tank top. His explanation indicated that he was not only physically fit but also very witty. He said ‘Yes, I am an Alumn’ and then immediately followed ‘and I make sure I take good advantage of it! I called them up and asked if they were going to keep their promise to give me 1% for each year since I graduated. I pointed out to them that might mean 50% off"... He paused and said with a smile: “They checked their files and came back to say, ‘In fact, Mr. Randall, you are entitled to 59%. We will honor our pledge. We are not too worried, you are the only one in your age group who is still buying athletic gear!” Paul is on his way to Boston to defend his world title at the World Indoor Rowing Championships (also known as C.R.A.S.H.-b). A much younger heavy set guy sitting in the audience commented in response to my expressed admiration, “Well, sure he can be the champion, he probably does not have much competition in his age group.” To which I said, “Yes, you are likely right, but isn’t that exactly what a champion is, someone who greatly outdoes the competition?” I also thought: Will you start training to see what it really takes? Btw, while many rowers compete in the indoors events, it is not necessary to be one to do very well on an erg which eliminates the need to be able to balance the boat on the water while simultaneously pulling hard.

The other inspiring person I met is at the other end of the age spectrum. Mika Baugh is 19. I was so lucky to crash after my own race (about lessons learned from that adventure in a future post!) on a bench next to her proud grandfather. He seemed so overjoyed that he turned toward me and said: “My granddaughter is competing today and she is my hero!” Sounded as a rather surprising statement until he told me that Mika is an A student (was Valedictorian) and a star athlete at Indiana University. He added that Mika is also the President of the National Federation of the Blind of Indiana Student Division. And yes, Mika is blind. I decided that I needed to stay longer so that I could cheer for her. She not only competed, but also coached another young woman who seemed to be the only African American competitor. I received the permission of her mother and grandfather to publicly share my own admiration for Mika. They also introduced me to Mika after her race. Exactly as her family had warned me, she too acted as it was not a big deal that she had competed and qualified for the Adaptive rowing world finals in Boston. She however shared the fact that, sadly, she will not make the trip due to a shortage of funds.

Witnessing the strength of the human spirit in overcoming such great odds filled me with awe and brought me to tears – of joy! So, back to my erg-ing… let’s hear again, what was your excuse, Z?

Winning the race against gravity and inertia

It’s the beginning of a new year, a time when many set goals to lose weight and exercise, hopefully as part of becoming healthier. If you are a steady exerciser, you probably had noticed (and might be annoyed by it!) that it is hard to get on your favorite equipment which is being used (likely inadequately) by novices who overcrowd the gyms at this time of the year. While we might not be excited by the competition for resources, I still think it is sad that many of these people will not be seen around for much longer….

What makes us stick with our best intention goals? The idea behind this post actually crystallized in my mind due to... my e-mail science alerts inclusion of a recent research paper summary published by the journal Appetite (not one of the regular cooking-type magazines – I love those as well!), but “an international research journal specializing in behavioral nutrition and the cultural, sensory, and physiological influences on choices and intakes of foods and drinks.” The recent study reports that the perception of a lower complexity for rules used to diet increases the length of participants adherence to their chosen weight management program/diet. You do not have to read the whole thing, although if you want to, I was able to find the pdf file of the in press research article here

Here is my quick take on this recent study and the issue in general. Women on two weight management programs were included in the study. The Weight Watchers program is heavier on computation, teaching participants to keep track of total daily number of points assigned by the program to each food. The other program is a recipe-based weight management ("mean plan") provided by Brigitte, one of Germany’s most popular magazines. The “cognitive complexity” of the program was defined as the difficulty perceived by its participants in figuring out what they should eat to stick with their chosen program. The study’s authors concluded that the cognitive complexity of the weight program is a very strong predictor of the length of adherence, i.e., women who had found it easier to figure out what to eat were more likely to stay in the program. I am sure this is a very valid observation; in general anything easier to figure out is easier to do and stick with! However, there are many other variables that likely were important, some of them acknowledged by the authors. One difference that stood out to me (but not to the authors) most likely due to my personal experiences, was related to what participants considered to be their main goal. The participants in the “winning” program (Brigitte) were reported to be more likely to have a weight goal rather than a time goal, in contrast to the Weight Watchers participants.

This personal observation made me consider more closely the potential importance of motivation when setting the goal for its long term success. I will make assumptions as I lack access to the actual facts… I.e., in this particular case, I am going to hypothesize based on personal experience that an average participant in the study who had decided she needed to lose weight by a specific date, was likely acting on her desire to look slimmer for a specific “event,” e.g., getting ready for a beach vacation, wedding, or reunion - haven’t we all gone through this at least once? It would then not surprise me that the dieter would lose determination in continuing to work on “looking good” after that specific date (came and gone), especially if she perceived the program as demanding in cognitive terms. We all have a lot of things competing for our brain power! And this is not even considering what sacrifices some of us are willing to make to rapidly lose weight, an approach that by its very nature is not sustainable. On the other hand, an average participant whose main purpose is the weight goal would seem to be more likely to be dedicated to not only getting there (in a hurry!) but also staying at that weight, thus more likely to stick to her program!

Time for personal disclosures: I have never tried any of these two specific programs. However, a couple of years back I did set a reasonable goal for my desired weight. This was based on widely available tables indicating the “ideal weight” (which I used to have… at a different age!) for my height, thought to ensure the lowest level of risk for heart disease, diabetes and hypertension. I also gave myself about a year to come back to my more youthful weight. I came very close but did not make it by my hoped-for date, but this was a personal (my birthday!) and not a public “drop-dead” event. My goal was to have the healthiest weight anyway, my desired date being only the beginning of (not the reason for!) what I hope to last well beyond, so I stuck with my program, self-designed to fit my life style. This combined regular exercise and eating healthy, this blog being itself an offshoot of my commitment to physical and mental fitness. If you are interested in seeing also some of what I eat, see Earth2You.org. After achieving my goal a few months later, I decided I needed to officially “mark” the event - that was reaching my goal - by signing up for a… “lightweight” category in a rowing race! Competitors need to weigh in on race day to prove they are under a certain weight, which happens to be the weight I had chosen to reach. Incidentally the race was just days after the second (!) birthday since deciding to reach my healthiest weight. As extra-motivation to stick to my lower weight I said to myself it would be very embarrassing if I had signed up and then don’t qualify for the lightweight category, at this point throwing in somewhat of a public dimension to my previously private goal.

I competed in my very first lightweight race to the not so concealed amazement of some of my fellow rowers, who have known me for years, but post my ideal weight. OK, I did not win a medal in this one... However, having qualified for it for first time and considering that all my competitors were younger (!), made me feel like a real winner: I had won my personal race not only with gravity but also with inertia. Who says we should "forget about fitting again into our skinny jeans"??? Yes, I can still remember some of the stuff I wish I had had more confidence to keep in my closet, but on the other hand I had no second thoughts about giving away my larger size clothing! My resolution is to try to stick around this weight and continue to race for as long as I can. Maybe I’ll even try again the lightweight category this year, even if they wouldn’t give me any points… for my age!

What are your get and stay healthy goals?

Start with the end in sight

What is your system for accomplishing something you do not enjoy doing or simply find really hard to do? Just in case this reminds you somewhat of one of the "7 habits of highly effective people" (begin with the end in mind), this is not a repeat! This is a personal insight about practical ways to achieve that goal in mind, which came, again, from my athletic endeavors. In this case I should rather say my efforts to keep my commitment to stay healthy though daily physical activities.

It’s too cold again to row outside so I am back to the rowing machine (!!) I do not enjoy using the erg (rower's slang for rowing machine), but I do want to stay healthy and in shape. So I promised myself that no matter how much I hated it, I will use the erg for 35 min (yea, all you serious athletes can have a good laugh!) in the morning, several times a week. When I can row outside, on the water, an hour flies by easily, but I have to drag myself to get on the erg… It has helped that I finally developed the capacity to relax my brain while I use it, which in turn allows me to... think, something which came spontaneously when rowing outside. This might be my first erg-inspired post!

So this morning, when I forgot to set the timer to count down from 35 min as usual, after two minutes of trying to achieve my daily goal, I realized I will not be able to do it this way around, i.e., with the timer counting up! The odd discovery that I was able to make myself erg if the timer is shaving off from my goal (I can see the end), but not if I had a seemingly open-ended task ahead of me (psychologically, each move adding to it), set in motion my thinking about the process that allows me to accomplish goals through tasks I do not enjoy.

If I need to do something I do not like, the first effort is getting my brain engaged to make the commitment to the goal, then the brain will drag my body into it. And should the smallest thing come up, my brain tends to immediately find any excuses for which I should quit… On the other hand, when I enjoy doing something, my body does not need my brain to get engaged. My brain only jumps in should something that threatens to require me to quit; only then my brain finds all kinds of reasons (excuses?) for which I should still persist. Thus, I need to set a worthy mental goal and a concrete end for the task needed to achieve it. If the goal has value to me then I will just “suck it up” and go through the motions to accomplish it. I believe some may define it as “keeping the eye on the ball.” As a tactic, translating the goal into a concrete target, i.e., setting the time, distance, or number of repetitions, helps keeping me focused and makes it more manageable – then I can actually enjoy the feeling of “shaving off” my task: I have the end in sight.

The sports-inspired strategy works in life in general and business. First, defining a goal that is meaningful or a clear vision is essential. Then, translating them into tasks that are measurable and keeping count makes it doable. New research http://bit.ly/4sHSM indicates that “grit”, defined as perseverance, may be more important than intelligence or native talent to succeed. Not surprisingly it was found that it was essential to find a goal that can motivate us and sustain our interest long-term to summon up the grit… Where there is a will for an end in sight, there is a way!

Added note: Erg-ing after posting this got me... thinking: "what might I be losing by using this method?" The first thing that came to mind was limiting my goal. Of course, I am used to always exceeding them! What is the possibly I might go beyond 35 min counting up? Slim, I really tried several times. So, instead I started the process of talking myself into setting the timer to 40 min as one of my goals for the new year...
I also included a gadget to the right side - you can set it for your own challenge and see if my countdown tactics works for you!

Putting it all together – the “renaissance” competitor

The other weekend I went to cheer for friends (and secretly figure out if it was something I should consider…) participating in a “mini” triathlon that includes swimming (0.5 mi=750 m), biking (12.4 mi=20 Km), and running (3.1 mi = 5 km). The display of human determination and energy was amazing and inspiring. So many things blew me away that it was hard to rank them, so here are some in no particular order:

• Each of parts taken separately is a challenge in itself to the average person. All these people – and there were a few hundred - had been willing to train for and able to compete in all three of them.
  
• Beyond the energy expenditure needed, the mini-triathlon requires also the willingness to deal with the unpredictable – weather/water conditions - and the predictable discomfort. They not only had to bike and run after swimming, but they also did it in wet wear!
  
• Most people I talked to at the end of the race appeared to be competing against themselves, foremost keeping track of their own progress: some had competed previously, many were planning to train and come back within the next months. While there were enthusiastic cheers for every one crossing the finish line - indeed a major achievement, no prizes or trophies were distributed…
  
• Some of the people did not fit the “image” of the athlete, some appeared to be overweight, some had some sort of clear movement impairment, most were beyond the age associated with physical prowess. I was reminded again how misleading the appearances can be.

Moreover, I could not help but admire not only the technical excellence and endurance, but also the overall preparedness and the ability to think clearly under stress of these athletes. In fact, if I had to pick one thing that was the most amazing to me while watching this challenge – it was the “behind the scenes” competitors’ ability to manage the “transition time”. I understand that the times needed to don the biking gear after getting out of the water, walk the bike to the start line, then shed it all for the running shoes, were all added to the overall time. No doubt a lot of preparation went into having just was needed in terms of different gear pieces. Add to that laying down all these items and then donning or shedding them in the right order, when tired and with the clock ticking, was nothing short of a major tactical system. Way too cool, I just discovered a check list for triathlon transitions ! I’d say the handling of the swift and efficient transition from one challenge to the next under stress is one of the most difficult to find, but probably most useful abilities in the business world these days.

This made me think that the tri-athletes would likely do very well in whatever they put their minds to. No matter how these people appeared at first sight, they all had determination, endurance, versatility, clarity of mind under stressful conditions and used these qualities to constantly challenge their own abilities to get better. I wonder how frequently such transferable skills are taken into account when people are assessed for hiring or assigned professional responsibilities…

Getting the high and the glow the healthy way

This morning when the alarm clock went off, it was like trying to resurface from the depth of a dark ocean. My eyelids were so heavy I could barely pull them up. No chance of moving any of my limbs… or so it felt. I had worked late into the wee hours of the morning, again! I briefly considered blowing off my exercise and sleeping another hour, but then I gathered all the determination I was capable of and somehow stumbled into my boat and onto the water. After a few minutes of easy rowing, I already felt better.

It never fails, this “high”: the surge of energy when I manage to get myself to work out even if initially I had thought I had none left. Maybe it’s the light recharging that pineal gland, which Descartes thought was the connection between our body and our intellect ; maybe it's the fresh air oxygenating my brain, or the movement of the water, sun and clouds. Whatever it is, I am then as able to work as after a very restful night. Working out in the sun also works wonders fr me when I am jet lagged.

And the "glow"? I come from the land of Transylvania (the real one). Being tanned and skinny was not cool in my grandparents' farmers community. Being tanned and skinny were characteristics of people working all day long in the fields. On the other hand, being pale skinned, maybe a bit pink, and plump was a luxury only well off people could afford. I will never forget the subtle disappointment expressed by my grandmother upon meeting my soon-to-be-husband: “He is handsome…. but he is surely dark skinned”…

I now live in a society where people are obsessed with being tanned and skinny. They are willing to pay serious money to be spray-painted with brown chemicals and to lose weight by any possible, as well as close to impossible means…

So where do I stand on this issue? Well, I do prefer being tanned and toned, even if not skinny... I also truly enjoy working outside, but my actual work does not really call for that. I am making time to be outside and work out in the sun. And, I don’t mind receiving compliments for my brown glow. What would my grandmother say if she could only see me now…

Individual vs. team success

For a long time, I rowed by myself, working on improving my technique. I asked for advice and I took lessons every chance I got. I went to rowing camp. I practiced. I practiced. And practiced some more. I finally felt that it was time to test myself and signed up for races. When I started doing well even against more experienced rowers, I felt I would no longer hold others back, and thus it would be OK to go ahead and team up with someone in a double boat.

My double partner is very competitive and very successful, and meeting him leaves no doubts about it... I am intensely competitive myself, but my contest is mainly against myself and so I tend to focus my energies differently. When we started rowing together, we had a hard time getting a smooth row so I suggested we take a coaching session in the double. The coach watched us for a while and gave us some specific individual advice; however, he added that while we were both accomplished rowers, the most important objective when aiming to successfully row in a team is: "This is not the time to concentrate on doing what usually works for your own personal best, all your efforts should go into understanding how you can help maximize the team's output."

The advice, as simple as it may seem, opened our eyes to the secret of optimizing team work: as part of a team, one has to adjust own capabilities and style to accommodate for the best fit with the other(s). We learned that could even mean de-emphasizing some of the very things that worked best for our individual competitive success. I am shorter than my partner, so I will have to stretch beyond the limit I perfected during years of practice to maintain the flawless balance of my single boat no matter what the speed. My partner, on the other hand, will have to actually cut short his reach effectively lowering his competitive output, so that our oars could remain parallel at all times. After the initial adjustment period, we started enjoying rowing together, and then we started doing very well competing as a team.

Team work comes with perks: we move easier by splitting the effort and can rely on each other to split the duties (one keeps the race pace, the other can concentrate on charting the course), and we encourage each other. And, yes, we do occasionally fight, but then we both always learn something from it… and we schedule yet another team row.

My playpen is gone, now what?!?

To be more exact, my playpen got frozen over night! This is exactly how the lake looks like this morning, frozen and covered with snow… They say a front of arctic blast hit us, no rowing for me obviously. So, now what?!?

I rapidly went through my options. Why not take it easy today, drink my coffee and read my book in bed, or surf the net… Sounds good, but I already did that yesterday, promising that I will exercise today. So, time to get reacquainted with my erg (rowing machine)… I have been avoiding even looking at it: no water, no trees, no sun sparkles over the water… rowing outside is the thing for me! Seems that I will have to get over this if I want to stay in a decent shape. Armed with this determination I got dressed in my summer (!) rowing outfit, raised all the blinds so I could see the (snow-covered) outdoors, and sat on the erg. I set a goal of 30 min and decided I will do it no matter how bad it feels to me. I loaded my favorite CD to get me going and had to turn up the volume to be able to hear it over the machine’s fan. “When is the last time I blasted music I love?” I thought. Using the erg always felt hard to me, the movement seems awkward and abrupt, never as fluid as when rowing, well, on water. However, at some point this morning, it got easier and I started feeling “the flow”, so even decided to go over my initial goal for another 10 min. I did a mental tally: staying active, burning calories – check! doing something related to rowing – check! finally blasting my favorite music – check! Getting my thinking time in?... check! It must have been, because after erg-ing for a while, the thought about what to do when having to compromise something you love for something more practical if the external conditions are against you, came to me.


Make the best of it! If I must adapt and make some concessions compared to the ideal, I must find a way in which the benefits could balance, maybe even outweigh, the inconvenience. Think of the current economic situation, many of us will have to do it. Maybe will have to change or lose jobs, move, try something we did not in a long time, or maybe never did. It is very possible that we will discover some new benefits and maybe learn something new. I was lucky to row for many years in Atlanta. Even if the temperature was below freezing, the water never froze, so as I became more confident going out all by self, I was able to row with no interruptions through the winter, if willing to be less comfortable, wearing many layers and using my frozen hands most of the time. But in my new place of residence, the mighty nature has different plans for me. So, I am already thinking “what if this arctic blast lasts?” Maybe I will go ice skating, I did not do that in a long time, or maybe I’ll check on that rumor that they rent cross-country skiing equipment in the park. No, I do not know how to do that, but maybe this snow is a divine kick for me to learn.