More and the MoJo is missing

The world was my oyster. I was full of energy. I didn’t have excessive responsibilities. My mojo cup was filling up.

How’s my cup looking? I’m older, promoted, and have survived lawsuits, yet I feel depleted. I’m overweight, tired, milky, and have little free time. I looked like a plump squirrel, and my life changed with the loss of my 38-inch waist. My mojo is gone. This year alone, nine people I know have committed suicide. What’s going on?

“Mojo” originates from an African language and is associated with magic and spells for luck and power. Today, it still means vigor, energy, sexual potency, and power. An Austin Powers movie was about his lost mojo and his desperate search to find it. He discovers it’s within him all along. I feel depleted, overwhelmed, stressed, frumpy, tired, bored, or lethargic, which means I’ve lost my mojo.

It is challenging to regain motivation after experiencing a loss of enthusiasm. However, I cannot sustain this state indefinitely, as it may escalate into a severe depressive episode. Implementing minor life modifications can unleash the transformative power of motivation, enabling me to experience increased energy and a renewed sense of self-assurance and appreciation for the world around me. Nevertheless, I acknowledge the tasks that require my attention but find myself procrastinating.

Addressing stress is paramount. I am currently overwhelmed and experiencing frequent chest discomfort and difficulty breathing. I must alleviate this burden by identifying and addressing the source of stress before taking any other action. Unfortunately, family and friends have placed excessive demands on my time, and I must pinpoint the underlying reasons and take decisive action. I am aware that a few aspects of life justify the physical and emotional toll of chronic stress, yet it has persisted for an entire year. 

To regain my creative momentum, I must prioritize activities that foster a sense of enjoyment and fulfillment. While fun is often undervalued, it is an indispensable component of a robust creative spirit.

Currently, I am experiencing a period of creative stagnation. I have attempted to recall instances of past enjoyment, but my memory is failing me. This situation is concerning.

To combat this, I propose taking a physical break from electronic devices and engaging in activities that stimulate my mind and body. When I feel a dip in my creative energy, it is tempting to retreat to the comfort of the television or computer. However, once seated, it becomes challenging to regain my focus. Instead, I should seek out inspirational or motivating literature to reignite my creative spark.

In summary, my creative mojo is currently lacking, and I must take immediate action to address this issue. I must actively work to regain my creative flow, but after a few months, I continue to experience lethargy, fatigue, or a general sense of malaise. I am considering seeking medical advice to explore potential underlying causes of this decline in creativity. These causes could range from physical deficiencies, such as low iron levels, to emotional factors.

Ultimately, I must take decisive action to reclaim my creative abilities and restore my sense of wonder and inspiration.

All you quiet dreamers, carry on!

#6... Hope the count stops soon!

It is astonishing to learn that Robin Williams, the most joyful and humorous individual of my childhood, whom I held in high regard and cherished watching in all his endeavors, reportedly discovered it more effortless to avoid the passage of time. The reasons behind this revelation remain shrouded in mystery, much like the subject of my previous post.

Conversely, I observe the other end of the spectrum. While commuting to work on my bicycle, I frequently encounter an elderly gentleman walking. He appears to be in his nineties. Despite his age, he maintains a brisk pace, albeit with a step length of approximately three inches. Each morning, as I pass him, he exudes a sense of contentment. This is likely the sole source of joy in his life, and he derives immense pleasure from his daily walk. 

I get more confused.

I recently noticed another generational issue. My generation valued being aware of others’ time, but now people in their 20s prioritize living in the moment, disregarding plans and tomorrow. Oddly, they don’t mind making others wait and canceling plans while enjoying their time. It seems selfish. Perhaps I’m becoming that grumpy old man no one likes. There’s little respect left.

Adult life has changed. Teachers, pediatricians, and therapists see children who aren’t afraid of their parents, not their power, position, or ability to enforce standards.

Instead, there’s a feeble nod of parental acquiescence and an earnest acknowledgment of “how hard it is to be a kid these days.” I’ve seen children call their parents names and tell them how stupid they are, and I’ve heard adolescents use expletives. 

Parents are afraid of their kids, and kids are fearful of their parents! What happened to the phrases our parents used to discipline us? “Keep your shirt on.” “On the double.” “What do you think we are?” “Because I said so.” “Look it up in the dictionary.” “Don’t bother me unless you’re bleeding.” Parents once commanded respect.

Today’s generation of children is the most closely observed, monitored, cherished, and scheduled in history. They are also the most praised. Families are smaller, and there are fewer children upon whom parents can bestow their attention. Many parents do not anticipate their children contributing significantly to household chores, but they do expect them to excel academically and professionally.

Could this be the answer I am seeking? We never fully experience childhood, so we do not desire to become older adults. Could it be that someone has stolen their childhood, thereby stealing their adulthood?

All you quiet dreamers, carry on!

I don't understand!

Over the past six months, I have been informed of the passing of five men over the age of fifty (two of whom I was personally acquainted). All of these individuals were suspected of having committed suicide. It is particularly concerning that they all held prestigious positions, raised successful children, and appeared to have few significant concerns in their lives. Despite these circumstances, they ultimately decided that they had reached a point of sufficiency. The concept of “enough” remains elusive, and my attempts to seek an explanation have only deepened my confusion.

Suicide, the eighth leading cause of death in the US, results in over 30,000 deaths annually. This is likely an underestimate due to social stigma, financial factors, and other reasons. Statistics consistently show a strong association between suicide and age, gender, and race. While women attempt suicide more frequently than men, men are 4 times more likely to die from it. In 1996, white males accounted for 73% of all suicides in the US. Overall, the US suicide rate is predominantly white, male, and older than 50.

Depression and suicide are strongly linked. Should I have noticed the signs? They worked hard and considered work their life. They may have lost touch with reality and become depressed. I wish I had intervened. I misjudged. Those who followed the rules and succeeded were emotionally unwell. They believed that doing the right thing would prevent bad things from happening.

Reflecting on my own life experiences, I find myself pondering whether I possess any inherent advantages in navigating life's unpredictable nature. Having endured economic hardships for decades, weathered a divorce, and faced numerous challenges, including the loss of close friends at various stages of my life, I question whether I have developed a unique emotional resilience.

I am aware of my ability to cope with poverty, solitude, the rejection of a child, and the inevitability of death. However, I acknowledge that not all of my friends shared these experiences.

This raises the question of why baby boomers are often perceived as inherently suicidal. Are they simply self-centered and childish, prone to extreme reactions when their desires are thwarted? Alternatively, are they human beings whose lives have been adversely affected by the actions of the Wall Street elite, facilitated by the media’s focus on austerity measures?

Furthermore, I find it concerning that politicians prioritize gun control and birth control over providing adequate mental health training. While I may be oversimplifying the situation, after witnessing the fifth assumed suicide of a close friend, I am compelled to seek answers, even if it may be an impossible quest.

All you quiet dreamers, carry on!

Improved

Hey, it feels like ages since I last checked out Facebook! I’ve only peeked at my personal emails a couple of times. Turns out, the world is still spinning around, just like I remember. I’m still figuring out when or if I’ll dive back into Facebook or clear out my email inbox, but no rush, right?

I managed to bike around 140 miles last week! I hit the road a few times to work, and then Shelley and I went on the  50-mile Tour De Saints ride on Sunday. It was quite the adventure, with winds blowing over 15 miles per hour, and they seemed to be playing tricks on us, changing direction as we went. But Shelley still smashed a personal best of 3:20 for the 50 miles!

Before the ride, I performed several maintenance tasks on my bicycle. I replaced the rear sprocket, repaired the damaged spokes, and installed a new rear sprocket. Additionally, I removed the 28mm rear and 25mm front tires used during the Denver to Minneapolis trip and replaced them with 25mm rear and 23mm front tires. The removal of the 28mm tires proved to be a challenging process. Furthermore, I replaced the shifter cable and adjusted the front derailleur, which had been experiencing issues. I am pleased that I completed these tasks myself after taking the bicycle mechanics course, as it resulted in a cost savings of $300.

Due to my busy work schedule, I haven't taken any photographs recently. I had to send my D600 camera for repair due to a recall for sensor spots, which I began to notice during my last use of the camera. I shipped it out on July 5 and received it back today (June 21). I intend to test it out this weekend.

I experienced a profound emotional letdown following my bike ride and the completion of my 30^th consecutive Grandma’s marathon. I require clear goals and objectives to maintain motivation and prevent stagnation. I am apprehensive about the potential limitations of my body due to aging, as recovery becomes more challenging. Additionally, I am burdened by an unprecedented level of work stress. Our team is understaffed, and I have consistently worked at least a 55-hour week, with occasional weeks exceeding 70 hours. My typical workday consists of arriving at 6 AM, leaving at 6 PM, and taking a lunch break.

Despite these challenges, I have discovered a newfound enjoyment in running distances of 2 miles or less. This unexpected positive experience has been a significant surprise, as I have not found any enjoyment in running for the past several years. I intend to repeat this exercise several times and sincerely hope for a positive outcome. Regardless of the result, I must persist in my efforts, as that is the only course of action I am aware of.

All you quiet dreamers, carry on!

A blog is better than Facebook?

Today, I was asked about my participation in a 5K race that took place over the weekend. I informed the individual that I have only participated in four to five races annually for the past few years, with one of those being Grandma’s Marathon. As I mentioned this, it became evident that they believed I was jesting. I attribute this to the influence of Facebook; unlike blogs, which present information in a user-defined sequence rather than snippets, Facebook appears to determine the content and timing of its posts.

I have recently become less enthusiastic about Facebook, primarily due to the evolving perception of Social Media. It is a platform for self-expression. I can articulate my thoughts whether I am content, frustrated, or perplexed. Recently, I was subjected to ridicule for posting about a retail company that failed to honor its promise. I had requested a password reset, and they assured me that I would receive a notification within 30 minutes. However, after two days, I expressed my frustration on Facebook, only to be subjected to criticism for sharing my thoughts. Additionally, I have another high-level mail-order company that double-charged me for a Christmas gift, and I am still attempting to resolve this issue. I expressed my concerns on Facebook in January, and I was once again attacked.  

So, I last used Facebook a few weeks ago, and WOW, life continues without daily use. Who would have thought?

My physical recovery from the bicycle ride from Denver, followed by Grandma’s Marathon, is still progressing slowly. Over the past six weeks, I have experienced limited sensation in my small fingers. Additionally, my left ankle has been experiencing severe pain on most days. Despite this, I have managed to complete another 150 miles of cycling, but the experience has been challenging. I have only managed to complete one commute to work since May 1st.

In light of these circumstances, it would be beneficial for me to incorporate yoga into my routine to help restore balance to my body.

My son, who is employed full-time, is currently navigating the demanding life schedule after graduation. I am proud of his ability to manage this challenge effectively. As a parent, it is natural to feel concerned, especially given the competitive nature of his corporate environment.

At work, we are currently preparing for another legal dispute. There are numerous issues at hand, and individuals continue to create legal complications rather than addressing the underlying problems and moving forward. This situation has made it difficult for me to enjoy my work.

Regardless of these challenges, I intend to increase my bicycle commuting in the coming weeks. This year has been particularly challenging, with frequent rain and floodwaters that have exceeded my previous experiences in July. Additionally, the weather in July has been consistently cold, with morning temperatures ranging from 50°F to a high of 66°F.

We take the good and the bad and keep moving forward.

All you quiet dreamers, carry on!

What is next?

 Six weeks have passed since the 11-day bicycle journey from Denver to Minneapolis, and two weeks since Grandma’s Marathon. While the experience was physically demanding, it was undoubtedly worthwhile. Several lingering pains persist, including a lack of full sensation in the outer extremities of my hands, fatigue, a slight twinge in my right knee, and a painful left ankle that is nearly twice the size of the right one. It is advisable to allow sufficient time for recovery, although I am eager to resume cycling to work. This intention is not solely for the enjoyment of riding but to reduce the mileage I would otherwise travel by car.

I will be getting up early tomorrow.  My son starts his new job.  He departs MSP airport at 6:30 AM on his way to Atlanta.  It is easier to give him a ride, even though parking is reimbursed.  It just adds 15 or more minutes to park and then get the ride to the airport.  He returns on Thursday, late.  This same routine will continue through the next few months.  This is exciting, but it is a little daunting.  I am so proud of him!

On another front, I shipped my Nikon D600 back to the factory. While I was hopeful I avoided the oil spots on the sensor issue, I was not so lucky. Fortunately, Nikon does a full repair for free, including shipping. I'll be out of the camera for the next few weeks. Before I sent the camera off for repairs, I managed to capture some good fireworks pictures.

I also purchased the pictures from Grandma’s. Some were pretty good. The finished picture was the tail of two runners. I was spending money, and my son looked like it was a walk.

Right now, I really need to find something to enjoy. The letdown of the bicycle ride ending and the 30-year run at Grandma’s completion was greater than expected. What is next? I am not sure, but life is less fun right now!

All you quiet dreamers, carry on!

30 down, not sure there will be 31

Thirty years ago, nearly half of my life, I set a goal to run Grandma’s Marathon and the Twin Cities Marathon consecutively for 25 years. However, the postal service mistakenly recorded my Twin Cities Marathon streak at 12 when the mail sorting machine damaged my entry, which was subsequently returned after the race. Consequently, I have achieved my goal of running Grandma’s Marathon, where I am a Lifetime Entrant (I have never paid an entry fee, as I paid $100 in 1990).

Upon reaching the 25th year, I anticipated being content with this accomplishment. However, when the 2009 Grandma’s entry information date arrived, my son encouraged me to run with him in a 26th race. After a few minutes at the start, I believe he had already left. For the 27th race, I decided to run 5.24 miles and discontinue. This would have resulted in 26.2 consecutive Grandma’s Marathons. My son, however, decided to run the entire race with me, preventing me from quitting at 5.24 miles, as this was an extraordinary opportunity. Despite his departure, he remained with me throughout the race, and I cherished the time we spent together. Therefore, completing the 27th race signifies only one objective: achieving 30 consecutive finishes.

I have completed my 30^th consecutive finish at Grandma’s Marathon. As I approached the week of the race, I anticipated that the two 2-mile runs, a 4-mile run, and a 5-mile training run in the two weeks preceding the race would need to be revised to ensure completion. Over the past three years, I have logged less than 15 miles between each Grandma’s Marathon. I have transitioned to biking and walking as my primary modes of transportation. Running has lost its allure, and I no longer find enjoyment in even a mile run. Walking has become even more enjoyable.

This year, Jordan and I planned to run the race together. We departed for Duluth on Friday at approximately 2:00 PM. Shelley had commitments with her parents in Lincoln, Nebraska, and my sister was unable to attend the race for years.

Upon our arrival in Duluth, we encountered heavy fog and a temperature of 48 degrees Fahrenheit at 5:15 PM (traffic conditions were severe). We promptly collected our race packets and strolled through Canal Park, enduring the freezing temperatures. Jordan had secured Spaghetti tickets, so we had a subpar meal and returned to our car to rest. By 10:30 PM, we had fallen asleep.

I awoke at 4:00 AM, and the race forecast predicted inclement weather: cold, rain, and winds. The only factor that could have exacerbated the weather conditions was snow. Fortunately, snow did not materialize.

Jordan awoke at 5:00 AM, and we proceeded to the train station by 5:25 AM. We arrived at the starting line with approximately 45 minutes to prepare. All went smoothly as we deliberated on our attire choices. I opted for a short-sleeve shirt with arm warmers, while Jordan chose a double-layer short-sleeve shirt. We navigated through the Biffy lines and positioned ourselves 10 minutes before the race began.

At the start of the race, I experienced a sensation akin to the Tin Man from The Wizard of Oz, which required oil to achieve a smoother motion. The initial mile was completed in 11:29, and subsequent miles exhibited a gradual decline in pace until the ninth and tenth miles. During this period, we transitioned to a run/walk strategy, resulting in a 16-minute pace to the finish line.

At Mile 23, I experienced significant anxiety regarding the possibility of not completing the race. Cramps commenced, and I employed all available mental resources to alter my stride and pace to mitigate their impact. I was concerned about developing a charley horse, which would render me unable to finish. Prudently, we decided to adopt a conservative approach.

As a side note, between Mile 11 and 16, I experienced several moments of doubt and contemplated quitting. I was experiencing widespread pain and extreme cold. Mentally, I am not as resilient as I once was, which made the race more challenging. Jordan supported me, although he occasionally unknowingly caused me difficulties by persistently inquiring about my well-being. In response, I found it increasingly difficult to ignore the pain. My left ankle was in severe pain, and I felt cramp-like sensations in various muscles from Mile 12 onwards.

Ultimately, I achieved a time of 6:36:48, whereas last year, I completed the race in 6:33:59, demonstrating consistency.

The only issue I currently face is the future. This is a time when it is easy to succumb to depression, as I am running out of goals to motivate me. I require a purpose to live. Someone once asked me why I embarked on this journey, cycling from Denver to Minneapolis. I explained that it reminded me of my continued existence. This is the sole reason why the number 31 remains in my mind; however, less than 15 miles of training will suffice. I do not particularly enjoy running. Which one will ultimately prevail?

All you quiet dreamers, carry on!