Finding Your Bootcamp

So, six and a half weeks ago I started extreme fitness bootcamp.  It’s basically an hour every morning of non-stop exercise torture — sit-ups, push-ups, running, sprinting up hills, climbing stairs — you get the idea.

The first day I passed out.

The third day I came home with flu like symptoms.

The fourth day I couldn’t get out of bed — literally, my muscles were too sore to lift me up.

The fifth day I was depressed.

Depressed?  I kept asking myself, “why they heck am I depressed!?  I just finished a week of the most grueling exercise regimen I have ever done!  There is nothing to be depressed about!”  I couldn’t put my finger on it.  I was tired and loosing energy, and it wasn’t from all of the lunges or squats.  There was something inside of me that was draining the life right out of me!  I was feeling great, my body was quickly responding to the healthy diet and physical activity.  What was the mystery culprit?

The next day I went into the office to finish up some work, and it dawned on me.

I was horrible!

No, really.  I was awful with bootcamp.  I found myself minutes behind even the 40+ year old soccer moms when we ran, I could barely do a handful of push-ups, and my clothes were drenched after 15 minutes (I could literally ring out my t-shirt).  I felt the looks from everyone else on the squad burning into my ego.  I mean, I knew that I was out of shape, but it was now glaring at me in the face.  For the first time in a long time I was the worst in the team, strenuously working my way up.

I had to learn to learn again.

I think for many leaders, we enjoy being in arenas where we are the experts.  We like to be the ones that are teaching others how it is done and what know needs to happen.  Situations where we are the learners and the inexperienced make us feel downgraded, unimportant and uncomfortably weak.  It’s easier to stay with what’s easy than to venture into unknown waters, risking failure and humiliation.

For leaders to continue growth, we need to constantly be stepping into arenas where we are going to be miles behind the 40+ year old soccer moms.  We have to find places where we are once again the learners and not the celebrated heroes.

And it isn’t to become well-rounded individuals at all.  When leaders tell me that they are well-rounded, it means that they aren’t great at anything, but average at alot of things.  No, we need to move into these places so that we can remember what it is to learn!  So that we can continue to sharpen our reflexes to risk greatly and move in the face of failure.  Whether its making a short film, writing a blog everyday for all of your friends to critique or running a marathon — these things keep pushing the essence of our life forward.

Today I ran 3 miles in the Hills of Chino.  Tomorrow will be 3 1/2.  I’ve lost 28 lbs and 21 inches and feel amazing.  I start another 12 weeks on Monday of bootcamp, and I’m hoping to keep up with the soccer moms this time.

What’s your bootcamp?

Recession of Ambition

I grew up in the suburbs.

Even thought it was just a 30 minute drive into Los Angeles from my house, our woulds could not have been more different.  Within walking distance of my house were strawberry fields, dairies and pleanty of southern-fried everything.  And while all that has dramatically changed since my childhood days, it is still, well — the suburbs.

I was a different kid growin up in the suburbs as well.

I was a dreamer.  The kid who had huge plans and big aspirations for what I was going to do with my life.  I suppose all kids have that, but as I got older, mine never seemed to wear off.  While most of my friends had dreams of working at Wal-mart and completing level 5 of Halo on x-box live, I was dreaming about creating beautiful experiences that were going to forever change all of humanity.  I seriously thought I had a disease.  I wondered why I couldn’t just be content with living out the American dream of a wife, a home, 2.5 kids and cat.

When I moved back home after college, the chasm between me and my peers could have been the Grand Canyon.  Many of them had moved further and further into apathy, and I had developed a greater passion to do something that mattered.

It was then that it hit me.

People move to the suburbs to escape the little voice that is inside of them that is calling them to something bigger.  It’s safe here.  There isn’t anyone driving you towards greatness, or reminding you that there is a huge world out there beyond the strawberry patches.  It sucks the need from our souls to move to the next level and experince something beyond ourselves.  There is simply Wal-Mart and x-box live and the American dream.  What more would you need?

We are in a recession.

That may seem like an incredibly unnecessary statement, but out recession goes much further than dollars and cents.  We are in a recession of ambitions — of dreams and hopes and life.  You see, the economy will eventually bounce back and everyone will have jobs and food and security again.  But without a community of dreamers and leaders willing to help push people to the next level, all of those resources will be pointless.

I live in the suburbs,

I feel like I am sitting on an oil field of dreams that are lying dormant under the surface.  Possibly the greatest untapped resource in the western hemisphere.  What would happen if we drilled down deep enough?  I can only imagine what would happen if all of the talent and passions of the suburbs of the world were awakened.

– the rest of this post was not saved, as my wireless session timed out at Panera.  Maybe I’ll finish it later when I have the energy

Forgetting the Music

Today I was at the gym doing my normal thing… 20 minutes of cardio, 20 minutes of weights and then another 20 minute of cardio. Pretty much the same thing everyday, switching up the cardio and weights to give it some variety (and to keep me sane).

There is this one woman that I see every other day or so. She must be in her late 30s, short, latino… always wears this tight black workout suit, a red bandana and dangling gold earings. I am always leary of the people that wear full make-up and jewelry to workout (esepcially the men). But I digree. We will call this woman Tina.

Now, Tina looks like the real spunky type. The type that keeps things going at parties, or has real crazy ideas for a friday night excursion. But there is one funny thing about Tina… she is always on her cell phone while on the eliptical. I kid you not — non stop through the whole thing while huffing and puffing to the rhythm of her feet gliding over the air. Once a call ends, she finds another person to converse with while working off the few fat cells that she might have left on her body. I cannot tell you how many times she says, “gotta go, someone is on the other line” as well. And when she is done, she walks out of 24 Hour Fitness -you guessed it- on the phone.

It made me think… are we really that busy that we now have non-stop conversations while at the gym? As if our lives were so packed that we couldn’t fit all the conversation in our allotmen of 2 hours each day?

I smiled smuggly and walked off to the bench press.

It was at this point that my iPod told me the battery was running too low to continue playing the south park episode I was watching on the treadmill. (I relalixe how ironic that statement is after I just made that judgement about my workout buddie, Tina — just keep tracking with me) So, I switched it over to the music.

I actually hadn’t listened to alot on the iPod in a while. Maybe a couple of years.

You see, I used to live and eat and breathe and drink music. I was a music whore, always looking for the newest bands, the latest trends and continuously looking for the next song that would be the anthem for my week. But not lately. In fact, when my friends would ask me, “What are you listening to these days?”, I would pause and say, “not much”, unaware of the potency of that statement. I justified it by being the cool guy who was going on a musical hyadus to find my own musica voice.

Far from the truth…

You see, somewhere along my journey I forgot about the music. I forgot about play and fun and enjoying life. Somewhere between carefree and becoming completely responsible for leading the free world, I lost my soul. Not in the sense of “I sold my soul to the devil” or “I left my soul in El Paso” — I just lost the beauty of life in trying to acomplish life. Not only have I not written a song in over three years, I have not really enjoyed the music in over three years.

So, as I sat on the bench press, I took it all in. The chords, the musical phrasing, the inter-mingling of notes and melodies… I almost starting singing in the mirrored room full of mass amounts of muscle, sweat and testosterone. It felt like I got a glimse of what was missing.

For me, everything is spiritual. When I play music, when I expercize, when I have great conversations over coffee — it all makes me feel more connected to God. I just realized that a huge part of that connection has been missing, and I have it back. I’m looking forward to seeing where this takes me.

don’t forget the music.