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?

A toast to things forgotten

Yes, the times might have been tougher for many this past year, but joy can still be found everywhere. Eternally busy with our daily grind, we might miss a lot of it! Hopefully we did not forget to appreciate the joy of having people we care about and who care about us: family, friends, and others. BTW, did any of you see the movie “Up in the air”? Do we take enough time to realize the joy of meeting new people and ideas, of being able to do some of things each of us are passionate about, or just briefly enjoying the giggle of a child, a beautiful sunset, or a good book or glass of wine? Do we take the time to do the simple things in our power to enhance and prolong the joy of others?

As the end of the year approached, I took again my tally… Among my “joy list,” something stood out. I realized I had consistently forgotten to acknowledge an important contributor to my joy during the past decade… my rowing boat! One could argue: “But, it’s an object!” Yes, but it has been a real partner and its true value well surpasses its monetary value, although it is still the most expensive thing I bought for myself (even if not much compared to other possessions people normally acquire in their life times). Also, unlike my house or car, I have been the only user of my single scull!

A few years back I had made the decision to own a boat to further reinforce my commitment to taking the time to stay healthy through rowing. While I have been the raw force behind our rowing sessions, my boat has been our… Zen! At some point I discovered that my work on the water only paid off when I could truly become one with my boat. Rowers will understand this is not merely a metaphor, this is… mechanics! In my eagerness to “row hard,” I used to overdo it:, my movement effectively working against the boat’s effortless gliding. However, once the two of us completely cooperate, I can hear the gurgle of bubbles as we glide together through the water. My boat’s unofficial name is “Champagne”. It’s what came to my mind when I was looking for one word that could simultaneously invoke white, light, bubbles, and last but not least, the giddiness that rowing gave me so many times naturally - something that might otherwise require drinking good champagne! I think my boat fully deserves an ode as it has been a real partner that enabled me to stay physically and mentally healthy so that I could take care of all the people I care about and to do many other things that I am passionate about. So, while it’s currently parked on high dry ground, and spent the holidays alone, outside in the cold, it will be forgotten no more. This one is to you, Champagne!

What/who brings you joy?