Something to fight for

They say the enemy of my enemy is my friend.

They say keep your friends close and your enemies closer.

They say nothing unites like a common enemy.

This is a great summary of a book I read about a year ago, called On Being Certain. I am pretty sure it was in this book that I learned that not only do we decide before we even consciously realise we are deciding, but that we tend not to listen when we are presented with information contrary to our current beliefs.

Yes, it’s true. If you’re a CrossFit nerd and someone comes along to tell you why their form of exercise is superior, you’re not going to listen. It’s actually worse than that: blood flow to the relevant part of your brain actually decreases. Even if you’re arguing, you’re not taking in the information as intensely as you would if it were aligned with your current beliefs. You are thinking of what you’re going to say next.

One of my co-workers asked me for my opinion about the American election, and I said that I wasn’t informed enough to give him my opinion. I’m still not. But, a bottle of wine into the evening on Friday, I broached the subject with my friend J, and we spent the next hour (at least) talking about the Obamacare debate, but more fundamentally the polarisation of America. I had been aware of that when I lived here, of course, but maybe it’s gotten worse in the last two years. It is, nonetheless, a real problem.

You see it from both sides: there are stereotypes left and right. The liberal (usually latte drinking and arugula munching). The NRA-toting religious nut. The rich businessman. The union worker. The black. The Mexican. The NASCAR fan. Right? These might not mean much to non-Americans but if you’re American you know just what I’m talking about.

One of the other things this book argued is that there is no such thing as an autonomous rational mind. To quote the web site I linked above, because probably most of you won’t read it:

“There is a ‘hidden layer’ in our brain whose neurons are influenced by genetics, personal experience, hormones, and chemistry. These factors influence all our thought processes without our conscious knowledge. We would like to think that if everyone had the same information they would necessarily reach the same conclusion, but that just isn’t so. There is no such thing as pure reason.”

I repeat: There is no such thing as pure reason. Uh-huh. So yeah, maybe that NASCAR fan is just stupid, and wrong, and ignorant. Maybe Karl Rove is actually just evil. Maybe the Harvard liberal is out of touch with the average American. To a certain degree all of these things is true. They are also far too simple, and fail to take into account that diversity can be a good thing (think Wisdom of Crowds, not crowdsourcing, for the love of God … and if you don’t know how these things are different, read the book. It’s worth it).

I compared it to a civil war. It’s more civil than bloody, but make no mistake: there’s a war going on. And my side is losing, in some ways. But I’m not so convinced that a) they are actually my side either, or b) that they deserve to win. I said that night that the Democrats have a marketing problem, and have had for years. This is true, but good marketing and poor follow-through are not a great recipe for success either. Honestly, I want to know who specifically masterminded the Obama 2008 messaging, and where he/she/they have ended up.

One thing I do know: if this country doesn’t stop looking inward and start looking outward, it’s going to be a different place in 50 years. It’s already happening. It’s busy fighting itself, and that’s crazy. There are so many bigger battles to fight. Maybe it’s still the greatest country in the world. Maybe not.

If you don’t follow one link from my blog all year, follow this one now. It’s a video (sorry, South Africans). It literally gives me goosebumps.

I read the other day some quote from somewhere that it’s difficult to move the boat forward if you are rocking it. Well, well. I may not be a trained fighter, but give me something to fight for and I’m a warrior. I’m dangerous when I set my mind to the right goal (not the wrong one or too low of one), and when I’m fighting for something greater than myself. Aren’t we all?

But here’s the thing: I love this country and a lot of other people do too. What I felt when I was here and what I hear in a lot of people is a wish, or desire, to do something. You get the same thing in SA I do suppose, but I’m here now so I’m thinking about here. Back in the day, it somehow seems like it was more obvious. The fight for freedom. The fight for equal rights for women and slaves. Nowadays, not so much. You try and fight for gay rights and it’s like swimming upstream in a river. You don’t even know what you’re fighting any more, other than that blue/red divide. So you ignore it and go about your life.

So obviously I’m back in the land of the free and the home of the brave. Specifically, I’m in Vermont visiting my family. The flight was uneventful, almost to a fault. I happened, between naps, to watch two movies both of which featured dystopian futures where there was extreme inequality, and the unlikely heroes from the wrong side of the tracks. Hollywood and Occupy Wall Street seem to be hitting on the same themes. Or maybe I’m seeing patterns where none exist. But everyone loves an underdog, except for the fans of the favourite. I wonder why it is we root for the underdog … because we identify? And what are the implications of THAT?

I was in quite a good mood upon arrival I must say. I got my rental car, and hit the highway. The excitement lasted for the first 3 minutes of smooth sailing, until I hit traffic on the inaptly named Cross Bronx Expressway. Holy hell. That wasn’t traffic, it was more like a parking lot. The novelty of being in a new country, my country, and driving on the right, kept me in a pretty good mood for a while, and at least the car had air conditioning because it was 100 degrees. A nice change, and one my injury has been enjoying. That or the rest.

Once I finally made it out of New York, I drove north until I found first, a Starbucks, and secondly, a convenient strip mall at which to buy a SIM card so I could call my parents, get the Google maps on the phone working, etc. This was actually an amusing experience because the sales rep was absolutely convinced I was some sort of famous person. He thought pro soccer player and I laughed at him. Then he asked if I was some other sort of pro athlete. I knew I was in America when I could say no, but I do CrossFit, and he didn’t ask what CrossFit was. But then a few minutes later: ‘Man, I’m SURE I’ve seen you on TV before!’ That was a hoot. And his co-worker was possibly even more amusing because he seemed befuddled by the best t-shirt on earth.

Long drive to Vermont, dinner, and sleep. I felt so much more human the next day: slept in, drove to Burlington to join the family for lunch on Church Street then some Ben & Jerry’s (I laughed at the Stephen Colbert’s Americone Dream but didn’t actually eat it!), and a drive back home. That evening I went over to J’s, and my visit was a bit longer than intended. ‘Dinner’ turned into an 8-hour marathon catch-up. No, I’m not kidding. Hey, I’d say staying up until the equivalent of 10am Cape Town time on my second day back into town is a testament to the company and the conversation. We had a lot to catch up on.

The next day I felt like death, not so much due to the hangover as to the four hours of sleep. After a quick stop at the Middlebury Farmers Market (where my mother enjoyed a chocolate croissant that, in another life, I would have been all over and I got to hug my track & cross country coach from junior high), I drove south to Manchester, Vermont, to have brunch with my friend Craig from my Exit41 days. We ate at a place which might possibly be breakfast nirvana … bottomless coffee, pancakes that looked like they were to die for, and, massive omelettes. Then we got more coffee (did I mention I was sleep deprived??), and walked around town before lounging lying on the grass in the shade, on a perfect summer’s day. Stunning.

Now I have a lot of friends (geez I realise how that sounds…. What I mean is I know a lot of people), and I’m not in town for very long, and I’m not really hitting up Boston this year, and there are way more people I want to see than I actually have time to see. But these two guys I saw this weekend … well, I love them. They’re both smart, and insightful, and sensitive, and rational, and humble, and good judges of people. I could go on. But they also are just fun to be around, and after the first 2-3 minutes which are always going to be awkward after a bloody year of separation, we fell right back into our conversation patterns. And you can tell how much you respect and trust people by how much of yourself you share how quickly.

There are some other people I love just as much who I’m not going to get to see this trip, but as I was saying in the last post how there are people in Cape Town where I would be devastated if they ever moved … well, these are examples of what I have here that I gave up. You stay friends of course, but let’s not be crazy: distance does separate. There’s a difference between a Facebook email and giving someone a hug, and sharing coffee or wine, and letting them see the look in your eye when you talk about something. Maybe, just maybe, making their lives a little bit better for the interaction.

For whatever reason in South Africa most of my deep intellectual conversations are with women. Just the luck of the draw, I guess. But it was quite cool to be talking about management challenges, and personalities, and whatever all else, with boys. It’s not all CrossFit and kung fu. But it is all sparring (…) and damn, it’s great to talk to smart people you haven’t seen in a while.

Been having a great time with my family too, catching up with both my parents and my brother, and enjoying the beauty that is Vermont in the summer time. I’ve even been enjoying the rest … maybe a bit too much. It’s easy to get out of the habit of training when you’re traveling, so it’s kind of nice to have this as an ‘excuse.’ This was actually one of my subconscious issues with resting that I have since made conscious …. I used to be such a happy couch potato that part of me is afraid I’d fall into that again. Which, of course, is silly. Except that it’s not silly at all.

It’s definitely working though; I haven’t felt this healthy in months.

• “It says: ‘Harden the f*ck up.’ … What does that mean?” – guy at T-Mobile (He was serious. I had to explain it to him.)
• “How is that childish?” – Cyrus
• “I feel like there’s a little bit of a civil war going on in this country.” – Ellie
• “You do have a knack for meeting the right people.” – J
• “I think what this country lacks is perspective.” – J
• “But …. Rationality wins.” – J
• “Do you want the tequila before or after your nap?” – J (for the record, no tequila was harmed … this time)
• “You might be able to fit a square peg into a round hole. But you’re probably going to damage the peg.” – Craig
• “Being overly positive sometimes is a form of denial.” – Craig 

Schrodinger's Cat

Alive? Dead? Alive? Dead?

It’s a bit less extreme, sure, but we change when we know someone is watching us. Performers perform. Athletes compete. Hell, as much as I am paying attention to my form right now for ME, I pay that much more attention when I notice Chris, or Jobst, or Neil, or Susan, or even a bunch of the newbies watching me. That’s part of why the CrossFit group training formula works: we’re all suffering together, doing the same thing, and sorta kinda competing with each other, so we are observing each other out of the corner of our eyes.

It can be fun also to notice how people’s behaviour changes when they notice they are being observed. How you perform differently when your boss, or your mother, or your girlfriend, shows up to watch your competition or your teaching of a class, or playing with a child. In some ways we’re more pure when we think no one’s watching, kind of like that strange line between actual modesty and false modesty can be blurry sometimes; when we know we’re being watched and we care, we change. We might show off a little. We might smile more. We might become more ourselves, or less ourselves, but we put on a bit of a mask which is that of the person we want to be seen to be, or the person we aspire to be, or the person that we think the watcher(s) want.

I guess I just enjoy watching people, and noticing what they do. It’s all a big dance, right? I love watching Neil jerk, Mona snatch, Jobst do wall balls, Rika row, Chris do butterfly pullups, Grant squat, Jeremy play, Kim move, Peter think. When people do what they’re good at and what they like, it can be beautiful. Whether or not they are showing off. Sometimes that showing off is what makes it go from good to exceptional.

I wonder what I do that’s the most beautiful. Maybe it’s notice things. I’m learning about myself that I’m a thinker, and a planner. I like to see patterns and think through solutions. I am certainly capable of getting involved in the details. But that’s not where I enjoy playing, and when I get sucked into the minutia it’s all encompassing and it’s hard to find the headspace to get out, into what I really like to do.

I also don’t like to feel like I’m wasting time. Going in a direction that’s wrong, or working on things I don’t care about, or trying to help people who don’t want to be helped, or coach people who don’t want to be coached. That sort of thing is just as soul-crushing as anything, as frustrating as an injury you’ve been battling with in one form or another for eight months.

It’s much better now, even with the couple of days of light training over the weekend. Kim didn’t believe me when I told him I was resting. What he doesn’t realise is that I’m also stubborn as sh*t. If I say I’m going to rest I’m bloody well going to rest. If I say I’m going to diet, I’m going to diet. Seeing fast results helps: I was feeling a bit fat after our little road trip, so a couple days of tight diet (excluding wine) and intermittent fasting and I dropped 2 kilos and am pretty much back to my normal training weight. Easy. And right in time to get bloated from plane travel; whee!

Similarly, I am finally to the point where I’m seeing results with my healing. The acupuncture will only do so much if I keep going and doing stupid sh*t, as I’ve been told countless times. But a new form of therapy that stimulates the nervous system to put muscles back where they belong, combined with the stupidly, shockingly painful fascial release, is doing wonders both for injury healing, and just to get my body back into proper alignment so I can be more powerful and less prone to injury. Sounds like nirvana, right? But it seems to be working: my hamstrings keep getting sore.

It’s kind of like when you’re sick and you don’t exactly remember what it feels like to be better, save for the absence of the crap feeling you are having. That’s how having a major muscle injury is: you vaguely remember what it was like to train, to sleep, to LIVE without constant awareness, if not fear: certain twisting movements are going to hurt, or strain, or worse. But I’m coming out of it now, at long last.

I’ve been thinking also about our own tendency to revise the past, to make it fit with how we want to remember it, to justify our own actions. Remember the Benjamin Franklin Effect? How you can look back on a relationship that was probably more good than bad, but have it poisoned in your mind because of how it ended. How you can look back on an employee’s performance and confuse “not always” doing what they should with “never” contributing in a meaningful way. In general how if you are not treating someone well in the here and now, you find things in their present or past behaviour to let you justify your current feelings about them and behaviour towards them. Or, if you are infatuated or obsessed with someone or something, it can do no wrong and you don’t see all the little flaws.

I was talking to a friend recently who seemed to me to be engaging in a bit of revisionist history. It was interesting. Well, in some ways I guess our memories are only our own and don’t really matter to those outside of us, except to the degree that they colour our present and future reactions to things. Geez, sometimes between the looking back and the looking forward it’s hard to know what we even really want, leaving aside all our potential fears about failure or loss or heartache.

Whatever. There’s no telling what our world will be like six months from now, or what we’ll be doing, or what our goals and aspirations will be at that point. We must remember as well that our own forward-looking goals and desires are shaped by others. Sometimes when people speak to me I can sense that they are trying to get me to see myself, or the situation, in a certain light, for their own purposes. I’m sure sometimes I read more into things than is actually there, and at other times I miss blatant manipulations.

One point that my friend Amy made to me on my last night in town was the difference between people you feel you need to have in your life and people that it’s just kind of nice to have around, for company or whatnot. Need is a strong word, and the way I am I don’t like relying on or needing anybody. But, there are certain people I want in my life more than others; certain people that if they died or moved away I would be devastated. That’s close enough. There are friends in the U.S. that fall into that category, people who I am excited beyond words to see, who I will probably try to crush the air out of when I see them (ok maybe not, I wouldn’t want to hurt anyone with a hug, even someone who was asking for it!).

The last few days were a whirlwind of activity. Even work, where instead of doing all the things I really wanted to do before I left, I wound up spending 80% of my time doing stupid stuff trying to sort out the slow internet and the up and down wireless routers. I really thought my days of pings and traceroutes and standing on shelves in server rooms to plug cables into things were done. That put me into a royally bad mood; I’m not going to lie. Also, you can tell I’m really tired when I stop speaking. True story. Insufficient sleep, nuff said.

But my interns gave their midterm presentations and I hope everyone was impressed. I was, and in both cases they contributed meaningfully to the business. Which is the only way to contribute, and the best way is to pick something important and focus on it. Focus, focus, focus is my mantra for the rest of the year. It’s easy to focus on diet, sleep, and training: that sh*t is easy. Trying to focus on the important stuff when there are people around intent on distracting you (not out of malice, but because their priorities are not yours), is hard. I love that office and those people though. Mandy’s cheer, Peter’s intensity, Hollie’s laugh, Anton’s pursed lips when he asks me a question, Jonathan’s voice, Zaheer’s fascination with my extra-curriculars.

Sunday night UEFA Euro final (Spain won), Monday I learned how to get out of a choke hold (haven’t practiced it yet but I know the theory), then dinner with Hermann, Lucien, Andrew, Michelle, and Susan at Hermann’s place. Awesome stuff: good people, good food, good fun. Tuesday night a drink with Mandy at &Union, followed by a coffee with Amy, watching Derek & Kim teach wing chun & shaolin, respectively, over to CrossFit to get my biltong for the plane, give goodbye hugs to Jobst & Chris, and to Lynda who is moving back to Ireland, and generally say goodbye to that environment for a couple of weeks, then back for qigong where I learned the end of the sequence we’re studying, and stayed after for a long chat with Derek about form, intensity, and injury.

Wednesday was a similar rushing around; starting with to Killarney Gardens to drop off Mona’s weights at the transport company. On the way I laughed because I was driving through a notorious township and some guys had a cable strewn across the road and were clearly in the process of stealing electricity (hooking up the shack lands to the grid is kind of a national sport, although of course Eskom discourages it), while a police car sat 50m away. Only in South Africa. One of those funny vignettes like when Susan and I were driving home from somewhere and had to stop for a goose to cross the road … and glare at us, like how dare we get that close to it before stopping for it to cross. Hilarious.

Then, to acupuncture which was as much of a social visit as a medical visit … and I am going to miss that place and those people a lot these next few weeks. I won’t miss CrossFit because I’ll be in the epicentre of CrossFit, but I’ll miss that cold room, everyone’s relaxed but serious attitude, Amanda’s straightforwardness, Bridget’s gentleness, Derek’s enthusiasm, Anna’s look when she’s fascinated, Shirfu’s quiet power, Kim’s laugh and smile.

Happiness makes me happy, and you can smell happiness from a mile away. I have a lot to look forward to when I get back: across literally every part of my life.

Anyway, afterwards, over to Starling Café for a fantastic lunch (both food-wise and company-wise: talks of leadership, ad hominems, cognitive biases, and sport always makes for a happy Ellie). That ran late, and I had to do a little bit of shopping then go home and pack. I was so proud of myself for fitting two suitcases into one (literally: my gym bag is inside my suitcase). I’m ready to bring some loot home! Dropped off a wallet I had found at the Woodstock Police station, then took about the longest possible route to Tygerberg Hospital (thanks GPS) where I picked up Susan and Talia, and from there to the airport where I choked down some food (strange thing about resting … I have NO appetite and am force-feeding myself because I know my muscles and brain need it).

So, leaving the land of rugby and rooibos, biltong and braai, Cape Town and car guards, Vida and driving on the left, for the land of the free and the home of the brave. American flags, Starbucks, catfish, Whole Foods, big SUVs, baseball, and the American dollar.

Should be interesting. Should be fun.

• “I hope tonight’s aggression night.” – Zaheer
• “Maybe just not as sweet. Or as fast.” “Or as strong?” – Susan & Ellie
• “When he came back, he came back with a bang.” – Amanda
• “You stuck with your team.” – Jobst
• “It’s the mind that fails the body first.” – Derek
• “You don’t know kung fu. You shouldn’t be walking around this town alone.” – Derek
• “Good luck with all the good times ahead.” – Hon
• “You had a protein bar in the week? That’s it. I’ve lost all respect for you.” – Ellie
• “If you compete, you must go either to win, or to have fun.” – Kim (TRUTH)
• “Stay anabolic!” – Kim (best parting words EVER)
• “It’s about helping.” – Doug
• “Remember, age is only a number.” – Mona 

Respect

I’ve always had a hard time with respect. Specifically, because I feel respect must be earned. But even when I respect someone I sometimes kind of forget that respect … not that I’m trying to be disrespectful; just that I’m paying insufficient attention.

It’s one of the things that I love about the martial arts center: the ingrained respect for instructors, for the training area, for the traditions, for the family. The training floor as sacred space.

Someone pointed out to me that he likes the feel of the studio because its character is quite strong. You walk in and there’s a good chance someone is reading from a huge textbook of Chinese medicine. There’s probably someone meditating somewhere. The bedside manner may be a little bit cold to the uninitiated, and it’s definitely not for everyone. Neither is CrossFit. I like extremes. Both intimidated me at the beginning but I pushed through, and I’m glad for it.

Culture comes from the top. Respect is a give & take, if it’s right, and mutual (“It’s all sparring; it’s all kung fu” … still my favourite quote of the year I think!). I’ve been noticing recently who bows to who, who bows to me. It’s something between respect, greeting, and acknowledgement of a relationship. The little things, the subtle signs, to me are more flattering and meaningful than the big bold gestures. Quality over quantity. It’s the fireman with the kitten, the big strong guy with the soft underbelly, the guy who could kill me in 10 seconds flat but has a touch as gentle as a feather. Yin and yang, I guess?

It’s also … this is a new family that I’m growing into. I was at a braai Friday night with the Ballistix Fitness crew, and I was very tired and not feeling that well but was looking at the different people with affection. Hes, with her beautiful features. Ryan, with the wisps of white in his curly hair. Norman, smiling and playing with someone else’s child. Beautiful people, inside and out.

The next morning, after a workout of death, we headed back to Cape CrossFit for an Olympic lifting clinic by Jean Greeff, who is going to the Olympics in a few weeks. Jean is such a sweetie, I love this kid to pieces. And I’m happy because probably 80% of my problems with cleans and power snatches can be fixed by practicing my pulls. But anyway before we started I was looking at the boys just playing around and warming up and my heart was swelling with love. These are my boys, my brothers, my family (there are girls in the family too, just fewer of them, unfortunately). They are silly boys, and overly dramatic boys, but they’re my boys, damn it, and I love them.

I’ve probably said it before but when I went out to do that dumbbell snatch it was just as much for JP, Andrew, Jobst, and Grant than it was for me. They cared about it just as much as I did but had no ability to control the situation and I wasn’t going to let them down.

But same. I look at Anna with that same love, like she’s my sister, and this makes me very happy. Talking to Amanda is like talking to an older version of myself. And of course, the multi-dimensional relationship with the men; it still makes me a bit insecure sometimes when I don’t know why it is that people respect me. Well, it’s hard to know just how we look through other peoples’ eyes. We see what we want to see. We see what we are looking for, what we are hoping for. Sometimes, we also see the truth. Sometimes these things all align. Sometimes we let something slip out of our mouth or give something away with a gesture or a vignette or a particular look: of love, of lust, of disgust, of exasperation. If you know someone well enough that you’ve penetrated beneath the majority of their defences and you still just absolutely love them and respect them, and they you: that’s something precious.      

Love, like, respect: three different things. There are a lot of people that I like, and feel affection for, but there are a much smaller number who I truly respect. Even this is a compromise; I can respect you in one way and not in another. But the same goes for myself: there are some things about myself that I respect, and some other things that I do not, and those are the ones I am working on. Kaizen. If we’re not continually trying to make things (ourselves, our relationships, our work product) better … well the alternatives aren’t as nice are they?

Speaking of making things better: my rest period started Sunday. I don’t think I’ve ever taken a rest period this long since I started CrossFit, and the best part about it actually is my mindset, which is not resentful but I’m actually looking forward to it. At the moment I’m enjoying my general soreness, because it’s going to be a while before I feel this way again.

The other thing I guess is how often we can assume that other people pick up on what we’re putting out there. Sometimes they do, sometimes they don’t of course. Sometimes both people know exactly, and having things remain unsaid is good. Sometimes actually saying what needs to be said is also necessary.

Or sometimes someone says something to you and you realise what a complete and total jackass you’ve been. That’s happened to me a couple of times recently.

Although I’m genuine (or I try to be), and I’m honest (for the most part…), there is definitely a lot that I keep to myself. Susan and I were talking about this; I will often talk and talk and analyse what’s going on around me. It’s almost like a hobby. But there are some things, the deepest, most important things, that are for me, and me only.

Sunday was a beautiful day. I’m absolutely exhausted. I haven’t been getting enough sleep, and have been training. It was actually an interesting insight, because I am normally eating and sleeping so well that training is just part of the routine. To train on insufficient sleep made me realise just how much all that other stuff matters. It’s one thing to know it intellectually, another to feel it.

But I was chilling. I’d spent the weekend with people I love, doing things I love: training, wine tasting, braaing, and then out on Saturday night drinking with some of the guys from CCF. A new half to the year is starting. I’m nearly healed, finally. I did heavy front squats without pain or pressure on Friday, and it was glorious. I hadn’t fully realised the degree to which this was holding me back, but I miss being able to throw myself at whatever the workout is with 100% intensity. It has been a good lesson for me, the increased focus on body awareness while tired, but it’s time to move on. I’m so ready to be back in fighting shape.

I wound up sitting on Camps Bay beach for over an hour texting on my phone and just enjoying the moment, and where I am right now, physically, mentally, emotionally. When we were driving back into Cape Town in the rain after the road trip, it felt like we were entering a huge metropolis, which I guess it was compared to where we had been.

But it’s such a small city, where you’re two degrees of separation from pretty much any local celebrity. Where you watch your coworker’s stunning wife who is the lead in an opera and then nearly get locked in the theatre because you’re there so late talking. Where you see one of the guys on the rugby on TV, and he looks familiar, and that’s because you actually did meet him once. Where you have a pop star, a rock star, two Olympic athletes, and a member of Parliament among your Facebook friends. Where you can’t go to the Biscuit Mill without running into people you know. Where your friend drinks with Jack Parow. Where you’re so next level that your groupies have groupies.

I’m feeling pre-departure nostalgia. It’s not like I’m leaving forever, but I’m experiencing some separation anxiety. I just want to hug everyone, and hold every thing and every moment close to me. One thing I do know: if something feels right, I’m not going to question it or fight it, and will try my hardest not to be afraid of it.

I’m at a fork in the road and I know it. I’m excited about what’s ahead of me, whatever I decide, and whatever that means.

• “I had your extra bacon, feta, and avo. That’s kinda like dessert.” – Ellie
• “What a useless ninny is a lovesick man!” – quote from Yeoman of the Guard
• “The other part is that if I wanted to, I could kill them.” – Susan
• “Ghalib is the pudding queen!” – Stoffie
• “F*ck this workout.” – Norman
• “Wait, is that dog a female?” – Ellie
• “I don’t let things eat at me. I just … fix them.” – Susan 

The road trip to end all road trips

One thing I’ve noticed recently is that a lot of people don’t ‘get’ marketing. They can sell something to someone who is similar to them, but they don’t know how to speak to people with different backgrounds and motivations.

Well, I didn’t know Susan Mopper very well before agreeing to let her hang with me for a few weeks, and well, you know how it goes. Friends are one thing, roommates are another. Similar to J last year though, we knew each other both a bit, and by reputation, which made it somewhat safe from both of our standpoints.

So without a worry in the world about what might go wrong, I planned an epic road trip. To me, what makes a good road trip is ROAD. And coffee. And food. But you never know what’s going to work for other people, especially those you don’t know that well.

Turns out, this lady is my sister from another mother (an overused phrase, but true in this case). You want to know something about me? Ask her. True story.

Long story short? My plan found a willing partner in crime, and after five solid days together we’re still buddy-buddy. Which means we’re both pretty chill, most of the time!

Our itinerary:

• Friday: wake up early (haha … too much wine at Carne the night before put an end to this part of the plan!), drive to Prince Albert for lunch. A box of grapes, a rainstorm, and long drive later we arrived. Unfortunately the place Keith and I ate last year was closed …. So we went to another place where we ate with this lovely granny who told us essentially her life story in about an hour, while sitting by the fire, eating Karoo lamb. We planned to drive the Swartberg pass but it was impassable due to snow, mud, slush, etc. so we went on the paved roads and stopped to take photos of aspen-like trees over rivers. Beautiful. Dinner in Wilderness … the best steak in the area, apparently, and I think I ate a 500g t-bone all by myself.
• Saturday: Beach WOD: sprinting (2x100m, 4x200m, 2x100m), breakfast at Moontide (LOVE this place!!), drove to Knysna for some salad and coffee by the heads, window shopping, oysters & champagne, to Storms River Rest Camp to check in, then back to Knysna for dinner at Firefly. One of my top five restaurants in South Africa, hands down. My introduction to just how awesome American country music can be on the drive home in the dark.
• Sunday: Storms River Mouth hike (was supposed to be preceded by a repeat of last year’s running/HSPU/burpee box jump WOD but my body wasn’t having any of it), drive to Jeffreys Bay for lunch by the sea, and then another long drive to Hogsback, punctuated by the most hectic petrol station EVER. Hogsback was apparently JRR Tolkein’s inspiration for Lord of the Rings (he apparently vacationed there as a child). Dinner at a local bar & grill type place then back to the B&B to chill, accompanied by Two Minute Puzzle and Jeremy Loops.
• Monday: Woke up to rosy fingered dawn. Breakfast, walk to a lookout point, hike through the Arboretum, lunch, and a long road trip through the countryside. Aloes and blue skies. Stunning sunset that Susan chased in the car, an aborted trip down a dirt road, and a non-paleo meal in a frontier town restaurant (the sad thing being we TRIED to order it properly … really we did!).
• Tuesday: We were supposed to go horseback riding in the Addo Elephant National Park and hopefully see some elephants. But … long story short, we didn’t, and just drove straight back to Cape Town instead. Like straight back straight back, arriving literally 2 minutes before qigong.

But: mainly a lot of road, and a lot of country. A lot of driving, and a lot of drivers. Road that varied from flat, wide, and straight, to narrow, windy, twisty, and rutted. Even dirt roads in some parts. The non-reflective road paint on narrow roads at night could be a bit scary, I’ll admit.

I do want to take this opportunity to comment about the general awesomeness of the average South African rural driver. There are some exceptions, certainly, but for the most part the drivers are aware and courteous. It is common practice to move to the side of the road, if you can, and it’s safe, if you see a vehicle behind that wants to overtake (most roads, even national highways, are only one lane each direction most of the time). There was about 95% compliance to this practice on our road trip.

Secondly, you are aware not just of what is going on in your lane but of what is going on in the other direction. There were multiple occasions when overtaking another vehicle would not have been safe had the oncoming traffic not also proactively moved over. I love the predictable unpredictability of the Cape Town drivers but I also like the predictable predictability of the rural drivers. Just …. So on the ball. And fast moving. Which I guess you have to be with vast distances to cover.

What is also awesome is the speed limits. They are entirely appropriate: for well-lit, dry roads.

I’d been on the Garden Route before so while it was of course stunning, it was not new. What was new to me was Hogsback, which was amazing …. Like it reminded me of New England around Halloween amazing, but in its own sort of way. Seriously, I could have stayed there for a week.  And I could have stayed in Tsitsikamma for a week, and I could have driven for a week around the Eastern Cape and up the Wild Coast. There are some places in the world that are quite soul-less, and others where you feel like your heart is going to explode from sheer joy just by being there. That’s how I feel about Cape Town and some of the places we’ve been on this trip. But also San Francisco, and New England in the spring and fall, and even places I haven’t been, like Savannah, Georgia, Denver, and the Southwest.

Life is all about choices of course. Some are good, some are bad. Some seem like a good idea at the time. As much as I love it here, and I see something every day that makes me rejoice that I’ve chosen to move here, I do sometimes miss America. I miss the flags, the Dodge Rams, the football, the familiar chain stores, the dollar, the driving on the right, the American man.

Bottom line? I love my country. Both of them.

At dinner with Susan at Firefly we were talking about all numbers of things but one of the subjects was how some of the best relationships are the ones that never happen. The guy who comes to town and turns your world upside down … and then goes home. The guy who you meet and start to fall for right before you both are moving away. (high school, anyone?) These are special because you just never know. It never had a chance to fall apart, for familiarity to turn into contempt.

In some ways the best part of any relationship is that awkward time between when you were happily talking and getting to know each other, and discovering you had common ground, and before someone makes the first move. That time when you actually both realise you like each other and you’re not quite sure, and you try to play it cool whenever someone else might notice your crazy behaviour. That time when you have a huge silly grin on your face when you see each other but you both make each other so nervous you literally can’t think of anything to say or what you do say sounds stupid the second it comes out of your mouth, when you’re verbally (and sometimes even physically) dancing around each other with stars in your eyes. For a minute, you’re a teenager again. Everything is possible, everything is perfect.

But it isn’t. Or maybe it is. That’s the wonderful/terrible thing about imagination; about anticipation. That’s the yin and the yang, the dark and the light. Cape Town as a graphic novel. Life.

I’m sorry but you really cannot understand the euphoria of the good if you haven’t felt the despair of the bad. I’d much rather life be a roller coaster than a pancake.

Susan also made the good point that part of why we can appreciate this beauty so much is that we don’t stop often enough actually to notice and appreciate. Even living in places like Cape Town and Denver, you look, and you see, but maybe not as deeply as you could.

When you’re on the road, you have a lot of time to think, in between exclaiming: “My GOD that’s breathtaking!” or “Check out this idiot driving!” or “I’m starting to understand why they put warning labels on alcohol not to drink and walk in the road because you may be killed.” I do have a tendency to over-commit, by which I mean both that I over-estimate my own ability to do things, and that when I commit to something it’s no joke. I hesitate to start things because once I do start there is no stopping me. I guess it makes sense; you can’t coach passion and if you don’t have passion for something and you’re doing it for some other reason, at some point, that reason won’t be enough.

Getting out of town was just what I needed to clear my head. I feel, in a way, like I’m wrapping up the first part of this year as I prepare to go to the U.S.; many of my plans will commence upon my return, and in a way I’m actually kind of just waiting for that. So I’m of two minds. The impatient and petulant Ellie wants to get going already, wants to be like Neo and just be able to KNOW. The more chill version of me is looking forward to a long vacation, and understands that before you can be ready to learn a lesson, to get ripped down and built back up, you need to be prepared, to be ready.

Susan’s right: you can’t appreciate accomplishment if you haven’t put in the work to get there. Although one person’s idea of a good time is another person’s idea of work. Maybe when I realised that my version of ‘hardcore’ was unbroken rest, it helped.

I know it in theory, but you don’t learn lessons before you’re ready, and you don’t listen to advice until you decide you’re going to. At least I finally have the mental tools to handle it without getting cranky, and the first step in the breakdown process is to get ready for the dismantling that is going to begin. To move up the spiral you must move up to the next level, and stepping forward sometimes requires stepping back.

10 day rest starts on Sunday.

And will be broken with a triple. Because that’s how I roll. [and that’s what Laa-Laa has planned for us!]

• “You were already part of the family. You just didn’t know it yet.” – Susan
• “You are high maintenance. But in a very low maintenance sort of way.” – Susan
• “If you don’t have to live without bacon, why would you?” – Susan
• “You had me at ice cream.” – Ellie
• “It’s just about doing things right.” – Susan
• “I don’t know what’s worse, people who are intimidated by your strength or weak people who find it sexy.” – Susan
• “You’re right. It is our fault that we’re surrounded by awesomeness.” – Susan
• “That petrol station had more life than JBay and Knysna put together!” – Susan
• “I f*cking love this song.” “It’s Jeremy. How could you not love it?” – Susan & Ellie
• “Who wants rewards without doing the work?” – Susan
• “I don’t know why they put a vest on that poodle. He’s already got a sweater on.” – Susan
• “That would be like insta-death. Which beats a long, slow death I suppose. But I don’t want to die today.” – Ellie
• “Yes! Good job.” – Shirfu

Zealotry

Or, not having an open mind. Zealots of all sorts have always annoyed me. Religious zealots, Mac zealots, CrossFit zealots, you name it. I admit I went through a CrossFit zealot phase. I call it evangelism stage 1, when you think it’s the coolest thing ever and try to push it on anyone who will listen, even if it’s clearly not a good fit.

Difference being, I grew out of it. I actually get quite sick of talking about CrossFit sometimes. Sometimes. But I usually don’t bring it up any more, except maybe to make a point or a comparison. I no longer argue with people when they try and tell me about their diet or how they eat. If people are curious, and ask me, I will tell them. But I’m over pushing my religion onto other people.

To each his own. We all do different sports for different reasons, and each is unique and wonderful in its own way. I have tremendous respect for trail runners and triathletes and pole vaulters and karate black belts. I do. What all serious athletes share is a dedication to the sport, to taking more from it than what it takes from you, to leaving your personal sh*t at the door when you go to train. Like beauty is in the eye of the beholder, the ‘best’ sport is a personal question.

I mean … I get that you think your way is best. And there are probably very good reasons why you think that way. But there are many ways to skin a cat.

Fundamentalist people who don’t think are just like sheep. You can tell them anything. But on the other hand, how bad are the rest of us most of the rest of the time, just sitting around waiting for a leader to tell us what to do or spur us into action? Why do we revere the teacher so much? The master? The gravitas comes from …. Where? From within, or do we endow it on the individual? Or both?

Same concept goes for business. One attribute I am continuously working towards is keeping an open mind. Not committing the ad hominem. Accepting when my opinion is maybe wrong when confronted by data that doesn’t meet my expectations. Letting people voice disagreements. Changing my mind when it’s warranted. Changing tactics when that’s warranted. Even giving up and moving on, and not worshipping sunk costs.

I like to learn as much as I can, try things out, see what works. Test. Evaluate. Conclude. Repeat. Not as structured as this, of course, but this is how we learn, and we of course learn more from our failures and pains than our accidental successes. Life is one fiery cauldron. But I believe in, and practice, a mixture of religions. CrossFit and qigong. Lynotherapy and acupuncture. MBA and social change. These are strange bedfellows. To me, it makes sense; I absolutely love the mixture of east and west, hard and soft, practical and ideal. But what works for me won’t necessarily work for others.

Interestingly enough, we also fear the teacher. I think because he or she is going to evaluate us. Not the same as judgement, but close enough to be scary. If you can break me down physically and mentally and reconstruct me so my mind and body are significantly stronger, I’d do it.

Right? Or would I be too scared of my coach seeing me in that broken down state, the lowest of the low? I guess it depends on how badly you want it.

Had great conversations with Henk at the Bromwell and Jaco at Mama Rosie’s, both of which, while very different in content, paralleled each other well because the difficult thing isn’t doing things. It’s really all about people, relationships, living life, knowing which things to do, and following through. What path to take: where to live, where to work, what sport to choose, what to eat, how to balance work/training/life, who to be friends with, who to have a relationship with, when to leave a relationship. How life trains you to the degree that you let it, and how 22 year-olds can be more mature than 32 year-olds.

I think at the end of the day, you kind of know. Somewhere deep inside you know what’s going to be right even if you haven’t fully comprehended it in your prefrontal cortex, if you haven’t yet explained it to yourself. I figured out something this week that was bothering me, and it was an intense relief. I always want to understand what I see going on around me and when I don’t get it and it’s important to me, it bugs. Like it drives me crazy. People are like arches; if something doesn’t fit once you figure out the keystone everything makes sense and it’s beautiful.

Speaking of crazy and beauty, a conversation with my co-worker this week got me thinking about animated Cape Town. Like Cape Town as a graphic novel. Think about all the things that go on in Cape Town (or in any city, really): the family dinners, the rapes, the picnics, the people shooting heroin, the tequila shots, the kung fu training, the informal markets, the blowing out of a candle. The intense dedication to … whatever. Your sport. Your book. Your work. So many separate worlds, literally right next to each other, and yet oblivious to each other.

What would make Cape Town such a great setting for a graphic novel is the smallness of the town, the natural beauty that surrounds us every day, and the start contrast between the bright sun and white walls, especially in summer, and the dark, cold of night. When Cape Town is light, it is hard to see. When Cape Town is dark, it is impossible.

We left Cape Town for the Garden Route on Friday morning. Had a bit of a late start due to Michelle’s birthday dinner at Carne on Thursday. That was a lot of fun. I do love my CrossFit family. I have a good one. More details on the trip in the next post.

I must be doing something wrong, because I keep getting emotionally beat up to the point where I need two [long] vacations a year. That much was clear when I under-performed on a mentally tough workout that is my favourite workout. No matter how much you want to leave your sh*t at the door when you train, it doesn’t quite work that way. And yes, the body is tired and sore and injured …. But that’s not what went bad this week. Fundamentally, what needs the most strengthening is my mind.

My qigong instructor Bridget told me that you only dream when your mind is troubled. If this is true, I don’t know. A few months ago I had a very powerful dream; one that spurred me to take action. To a certain degree I think that interpreting dreams is kind of garbage and I’m no longer a fan of predicting the future, but from another angle, if they are a mirror of our subconscious, then this one may have turned out to be more meaningful even than I thought at the time.

Am I scared? Hell yeah. 

• “Physio? You look possessed!” – Zaheer
• “Where are all the A players?” – Henk
• “I’m sorry but defeating me and then trying to kiss me counts as provocation!” – Ellie
• “Normal people don’t do this stuff. You know that, right? I’m not the first one to tell you that, right?” – Jaco
• “They are just glorified vegetables with beaks and wings!” – Jaco
• “Everyone’s tired anyway but we enjoy it.” – Mama Rosie
• “You must confront the source.” – Shirfu (seriously, must oracles also speak like oracles?)
• “I met a coach.” – Amanda
• “We see not 50% improvement. 100% improvement.” – Amanda
• “Don’t stop. Don’t hesitate. Just go for it.” – Zaheer
• “You know that moment when you realise you’ve already decided you’re going to do something?” – Ellie
• “Once you decide what you’re going to do, there’s no going back for you, it’s a full commitment.” – Lauren
• “There’s another bottle upstairs. Calm yourself, woman!” – waiter at Carne