Do Hard Things

At the end of 2012, I came across a picture of me at the pool that could have easily been mistaken for a beached whale.  That is harsh.  I should have said plump manatee.  I weighed 256 lbs and got out of breath walking up the stairs to put the kids to bed.   I needed to change.  

Then I found the simple solution:  in the jungles of Suriname there is a bean whose oils has only recently been distilled into a juice that cuts out fat, and I can get you a case for the low price of…

Kidding.  No, the simple solution is this: Do hard things.

Right before the New Year I came across Alex Lawrence’s invitation to start now to get your life on track.  Not January 1st, not soon.  So I did the most obvious thing: I signed up for a Triathlon.  Why not?

I hadn’t swam more than 10 feet in a decade, hadn’t ridden a bike since high school, and got winded on my way for the next handful of M&Ms.  Makes sense right?  I figured I had better start doing hard things.

I started going to the gym in January.  It’s cold in January.  Walking out of the gym, steaming and dripping with sweat, and getting into a freezing car is hard.

I couldn’t run, so I had to do elliptical and rowing machine.  After about a month, I fought my fear and jumped on the treadmill and ran a mile.  It sucked.  Running for the first time in over a decade is hard.

I added .1 miles each time I ran until I crept up to 2 miles.  Then 3 miles.   I was done, I was running 5k a couple times a week.  I hated it every time – no way I could do more.

During the NBA finals I kept going because I didn’t want to miss the game.  I ran 5 miles, and it wasn’t any harder than 3.

Unfortunately, a triathlon has two other sports that are completely separate from running.  In February, I got in the pool for the first time.  I grew up swimming and had been a lifeguard – the swim wouldn’t be that bad.  I swam as far as I could and got 8 laps, a whopping 400 yards – a triathlon is 750 at least, in a freezing lake with branches and people kicking you in the face. Really.

But I added a lap a week.  And slowly and steadily I hit a mile.  I learned to love swimming, a half-hour or more of silence, monotony.  It’s my new thinking time.

Again, TRI, no biathlon.  There was a pesky little piece of my training I had omitted.  I had lots of great reasons for not busting out my bike as the race got nearer.  Riding on a stationary bike sucks (this one is still true.) I needed a road bike, biking shorts, a place to ride, etc.     Slowly, these faded away as I was gifted a old road bike from my father-in-law which I nicknamed Clyde (the bike, not my FIL.)  The first time I went for a ride teenagers in a truck slowed down and yelled in my face.  I fell over twice in my garage just trying to figure out how to clip my shoes in.  It was hard.  The first time I rode with other people, I nearly threw up (turns out I didn’t know how to use my gears yet.)  It was hard.  It sucked.

But I kept riding.

I also learned an important thing:  You can’t outwork a bad diet.  Anyone who said that nothing tastes as good as skinny feels is lying.  Lot’s of things taste better: sushi, donuts, bacon, donuts again, etc.  Eating well is hard, eating less is hard.

My wonderful wife helped me with this.  There was no quick fix, no fads.  Just eating less bad stuff and eating more good stuff.  It is amazing what simply eating better will do.

My triathlon arrived, and along with my wonderful parents and youngest sister, I finished my first triathlon.  It was hard.  Really hard.  I got kicked in the face.  I swam into a branch.  Halfway through the bike ride I finally figured out the gears (turns out going to the big gear on a hill is the wrong direction.)  It was when a 62 year old lady passed me – they write your age on your leg so you know when to feel bad as you get passed- that it felt hard.  Halfway through the run when you want to cry and puke at the same time, it was hard.  But I finished.  2:17 minutes, 17 minutes slower than my goal.

I got home and signed up for another 4 weeks later.  I rode more.  I swam harder.  I grudgingly ran more.  I finished in 1:56, 20 minutes better.  Hard pays off.

Due to some financial stress on my company in October of this year, I was forced to look for a new job.  Three days before getting that news I totaled my car.  Life got hard.  

But my habit of doing hard things changed my attitude (in addition to amazingly supportive family and spouse.)  I never got too high or too low.  I worked hard to get a new job, and have found an amazing company and opportunity.  My new mindset that hard doesn’t mean bad allowed me to get through tough times easier.

 In one year, I lost a little over 50 lbs.  I’m not done.  I still want to beat 1:30 for a triathlon, maybe even try an Olympic Distance.  I want to lose another 30 lbs.  I want to swim from Alcatraz to San Francisco.  I want a lot of things, but what I learned this year is the things in life that are worth the most take a LOT of hard work.

So what is my point?  To show off?  A little.  But the truth is I want people to know it is possible.  It is hard.  You will have to stop easy things (watching “Biggest Loser” while eating ice cream) and start doing hard things.  Its worth it.  My road to actually looking like the other racers in the triathlon is long, but I have learned to enjoy hard.

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I wrote the above on January 6th of last year.  I've done a couple more triathlons (another this weekend.)  I'm not the svelte figure I had hoped to be, but I've made a key observations I wanted to share:

How you do anything is how you do everything.  Have you ever noticed that the successful people around you do a lot of things well?  They are CEO and Ultra-marathoner.  They are world-class consultant and build schools in Tibet.  When I do hard things physically, I do hard things at work and other aspects of life better.  The inverse is true as well: when I start skipping the gym, other parts of my life start flailing.  I'd assume that picking up my game at work/home/other would help with getting back to the gym, but personally sure-fire way to getting up and moving again is to get back to the gym.