sexy heavy

i was talking to my daughter a few years ago and she was telling me about winning a race and how good it made her feel. we were discussing her successes in life and how good she felt about it. which was when she brought up how others might look at her and see her as heavier than a star swimmer and captain of the tennis team is expected to be. she laughed at it and said she was happy with how she looked and felt, society might expect thin as the norm, but her body let her feel strong while she was kicking some skinny girls ass in the pool. i had to smile, because attitude goes a long way.

i have been on a roller coaster of weight for most of my life. i have fallen into a 7 to 10 year cycle of loss, maintenance and long-slow gain. to be fit, i need to exercise. i don't mean go to yoga, or take a walk, i mean hard work to burn the weight off. the last time i did this, i took a break from work and got control of both diet and exercise. i kicked my own ass as often as i could muster. i was taking my bike out into the mountains, and dragging my fat ass up hills that i didn't think i could make it to the top of. when i did find the crest, gravity added to spinning hard in the highest gear would provide an endorphine rush of speed that balanced the pain of the climb.

i dropped so much weight so quickly that summer, rumors started that i had cancer. i was actually very healthy, but even at the most dedicated, deep inside i knew i could not sustain the effort and denial it took to be 195 lbs (88.5 kg). i looked great, i felt great, i was able to take my multi-sport varsity athlete out on the bike and crack him open like a walnut as he struggled to climb with me. but it was not enough. i like to sit in front of a computer, fly on an airplane, or lay on a couch more than i like riding up those hills. i put my need to tri below my groups chance to win.

the difficult part of forcing myself to stay in shape is that i don't see myself falling out of shape. yes, i have noticed that i have gone through two sets of clothes since moving to KL. the shirts i was wearing when i first got here are now dress-down friday options for my girlfriend. i have written about being offered business cards by attractive chinese women who want me... as a client for their weight-loss program. i am not beyond understanding that people no longer see the high-school athlete, the college lifeguard, the twenty-something runner, the thirty-something cyclist or the 40 year-old triathlete. they do see the out-of-shape workaholic, who always seems to have bronchitis but who is surprisingly still happy with how he feels.

i know people who get upset by putting on 5 or 10 lbs. i am not sure if this is the norm, but i don't feel it. i have the ability to gain 5 lbs in a single week, and tend to do so when i am flying on business. the issue is that it takes me 50 lbs to really get motivated to do something about it. less than that, its just not enough of a challenge, or enough of an issue to worry about. i feel more guilt from having someone walk into my office while i am running than i do at the thought that someone sees me as fat. i would rather be a slacker for not exercising than to be accused of doing something for myself when i could be working.

besides, i am not unhappy with the way i look. i don't love the shape, but my personal impression of myself isn't something i dislike. i am not perfect, but overall i am far from worried about how i look. i can still exercise, last year i climbed one of the highest areas of the great wall, faster and stronger than the younger people around me. in many ways i have never been more at ease with who i am.

but, i have reached a tipping point. i have known it was coming, it really is getting harder to run. i feel less comfortable moving around. it's time to feel the burn, to drive the demons of my inner-slacker away. i am 46 years old, i have gotten my allergies back under-control after a week in beijing that tipped me over into two months of asthma induced coughing. work, at least this week, does not appear to be in crazy-mode so i am going to recover from the past 5 years of not taking the time to ensure there was less of me.

i ran 4 times this week, i cycled twice and all of it felt great. i weigh in at 285 lbs (129 kg), 50 lbs more than i could be. i like myself as sexy-heavy and as beaten into shape. it might be unfortunate that i do like both, if i disliked the over-achieving-weight of myself more it could be easier for me to start the burn earlier.

but happiness comes from within, and inside i am good and happy. that being said, the inner athlete needs to dig his way out. i am older, but i also know i enjoy the pain more today than i ever have. let the pain begin then, because we are now on the down hill, and that is when the speed picks up and the endorphines flow.

when i get there, just remember, i am still that sexy-heavy guy. he is inside no matter how hard i try to burn him off. and, i am always happy the ash is there.

photographic memories

three weeks ago i was being bounced around by the waves breaking against the hull of a rented speed boat.  while walking around sydney hunting for belgium beer and australian wine i thought we needed to see things from a different angle.  i was standing in the same place i had stood before, i was getting the same photos i had gotten before.  what i needed was to be in a new place and to see things from a new angle.

i looked over and saw a guy with a boat.  snap decision, quick negotiation of the price, and corralling my companions and we were water-bourn.  the guide was an interesting character, not uncommon for someone providing service to tourists.  the difference from other recent trips was that he could speak english; and that i wasn't alone.  i had two people i care about with me.  the trip was around the harbor, it came with running monologue of the harbor's history and insights of our guide.  the conversation was kept fresh, the only hint at his level of boredom with our jaunt was the speed of his accelerations and the angles of his turns.

i am not sure if he was doing that for the pure fun of it, for me as i was happily standing and rocking with the boat, or for my best friend who was ready to throw-up from the moment we pushed the mooring lines overboard.  the reasons didn't matter to me, the pace and turns added to fun and made for a few fun pictures.  this is the thing about travelling, the better the pictures the stronger the memories.  images of our days fade quickly, but having a picture can bring you right back to the moment.  this trip to sydney came with some great images.  sea sickness, stuck-out tongues, broken sculpture, lightly draped architectural symbols, gifts to boat makers, tree hugging and smiles under the table were captured.

having those moments frozen in bits helps me connect to the others that were not.  associative memories, one moment caught helps to lock in those that were missed.  this is why we carry our cameras, they help us freeze and keep memories for cold winter nights when we are hungry for a satisfying meal from our past.  they let us open the door and pull out a hearty image that makes us happy; and fills us with the calories or our past.

i have taken pictures all over the world.  i am asked why i take so many pictures of people i don't know.  the thing is, this random person i photographed is someone whose life has crossed mine.  it may have been for just a moment, as i was running through city streets and they were waiting for a light on their motorcycle.  our paths cross, they look over and smile.  when i capture that smile, i have it forever, rather than it fading as one of the small moments we share every single day; moments which we quickly forget.

sometimes i take a picture and i see a truth in it that the passing moment doesn't show.  there is a zen saying that a flowing river is never the same twice.  the act of movement brings constant change.  sometimes, constant movement is to protect someone from being captured.  i took a photo a few years ago that i go back to and enjoy over and over.  when i look at it i see clouds on the horizon and a fuzzy foreground, but the image captured both amazing strength and obvious fragility.  pictures can say a thousand words.

having the chance to travel, to see things, to meet people, to live more than a local-life is a blessing.  it's not a blessing that everyone has; if you do have these chances you are obligated to recognize the blessing for what it is.  you need to never allow life to just pass by as you move in the world.  you can capture the moments and come back to them later.  remember the small moments and the smiles of the people you meet.  those are the smiles that could have simply passed you by are the ones that may be important in the longer-term.

even if its just a peak around the corner, or a tongue stuck out in your direction, these are the moments of photographic memory that count.

what is beauty?

have you ever tried to explain beauty? what we think is beautiful is so individualistic, each and every one of us can view a work of art, a building, a color or a person and be affected by it in ways that are different from someone else. this is one of the things that make the world an interesting place. our ability to appreciate things differently is a core element to who we are, what a boring world it would be if we all agreed on the idea of beauty. but there are also things, people or concepts that seem to be transcendent. beauty comes in many forms, and form is one of the main elements of what is beautiful.

as i write this, i am sitting next to an asian garden; the water fountain is simply beautiful. the center urn has water pouring gently into the basin; the four pedestals on the corners are wood with plaster forms cast as flowers which are back lit from the inside. the light gently illuminates the surrounding area. each pedestal has a planter on top holding a plant with is moving in the breeze. would anyone look at this and see it as anything but a beautiful setting? possibly.

beauty for me is a complex form which appears simple, or elegant in design. the elements which make up the whole are complementary, they do not appear to be at odds with one another, and they help the viewer to understand or see the object without causing one element to appear out of place or opposing to the nature of the thing.

i also like repetition of form. when a simple element is repeated, making the design easier to anticipant, i seem to be more comfortable with the object more quickly. i can view the object from one small area and not be shocked to see the next area, it appears comfortable and familiar to me. objects which do not have this composition are constantly being reevaluated as you see them from new sides or angles.

these personal preferences mean that i like simple clean architecture with the layers of frank lloyd-wright, but am less taken by gothic architecture. mandelbrot art is complex and elegant to me, where as salvador dali is hard to be comforted by, as though constructed to make interpretation difficult. both are complex but the latter has intentional complexity, the former is simple parts multiplied and repeated. louis armstrong or elle fitzgerald are warm and inviting where modern fusion can be almost uncomfortable for me to listen to. a bright red sky of a sunset, with a gentle breeze on the skin is much more enjoyable than the harsh wind-blown morning of the stormy day which follows.

this brings us to beauty in people. what makes someone beautiful? it is much, much more than physical beauty. when you meet someone, you see the public face, the formal outer most layer of that person. if the meeting is part of a scheduled event, most likely the presentment will be the most polished and scrubbed face they have. they will have taken special care to look good, will be on their best behavior and will be using the formal conversational arts that we learn to make people like us. this is not who the person is, it’s who they want people to think they are. if that is the case, can you decide based on this if the person is beautiful? is this surface, carefully constructed, presentation a fair representation of the person?

over time, as you spend time with people, the public face becomes stripped away. layer by layer the person is exposed. some people are more or less forth coming with this exposure. i have a person who i was very close to, who sometimes i think i never really knew. the face shown to the world, was infrequently the true face, the face without the make up used to mask any emotional wrinkles that come with age or stress through life.

for people, beauty to me is still an appreciation of simplicity, openness, ease of understanding. a beautiful person is someone who is truthful, with who they are; even to themselves. they are hopeful and confident. they know where they are going in life and are happy to have someone fun along for their journey. they may have a history of broken travel plans, but they are resilient to the pains of travel and know how to see things in the best possible light. they also realize that everyone else is also on a journey, some are rushed, some just want to sit in the airport lounge and rest, and some are standing trying to find a map and to decide where to move next. a beautiful person would take the time to help these others, would talk to some who looked like they needed a friend.

beautiful people are much more than skin deep, they are beautiful all the way down to their core. the first beautiful person i knew in my life was my grandmother, she was not a classic beauty, but she was a person who lived a proud and purposeful life. she cared for her children and grandchildren, she had friends who meant something to her, and she had a career that was more than a mundane job which she did because she had to. she had pride in herself and her life. nana was one of the most beautiful people i have ever known.

beauty is happiness, compassion, empathy, forgiveness, strength, confidence and openness. it is not the number of wrinkles on your face. the shape of your body parts might come into it both for the first meeting and for how you feel about yourself, but that is not who someone is. we will all be 90 someday; if we are lucky. by then, we will be wrinkled and saggy for sure. i hope to still be active, i hope you are too, but we will not be super models. the beautiful parts of us can still be there though if we care for them and make sure we work to keep them as fit as we have our physical bodies.