My entry for “Parent of the Year,” circa 2011

Three ready to go... where's Abby?It’s not like I haven’t been here before. In fact, I seem to have a knack for putting myself in exactly the right position to be used as an excellent example of what not to do when raising your children. Examples include the missing Tooth Fairy, the broken collar bone, and the broken arm.

Remembering that broken arm incident actually makes me feel a little better about this, so I’m glad I paused a moment to reflect. Still, this was pretty egregious. It started with the idea that a kids triathlon would be fun…

The kids have been swimming on the North Willow Swim Team for the last two years, including daily practices and two meets a week for the past month or so. They all have ridden their bikes to Bub’s for burgers and back, so I knew that putting a few miles behind them wouldn’t be a problem. (Of course, in the race, they wouldn’t be stopping in the middle to eat The Big Ugly and a milkshake, but still…) And the run, well… let’s just say it ain’t that far.

So they are all geared up and we head to Zionsville on Monday, July 4, for the big event. It should be pretty simple: 7-10 year olds will swim 100 meters, bike 1.8 miles and run .8 miles. All of them can do this pretty easily, so I’m not worried. And, honestly, neither are they. (Except Abby, who is uncontrollable terrified for some unknown reason. She cries for about an hour and refuses to take off her shoes. “They’ll only slow you down in the pool,” says I. She is unmoved.)

At check-in, I discover that the triathlon powers-that-be have designated that competitors will compete at the age they will be on December 31. For everyone but Lily, that’s their current age. Unfortunately for Lily, this puts her in the 11-12 year-old group and changes just about everything. The event she signed up for suddenly became a little horrific: the swim is now 200 meters, the bike ride is 4.5 miles, and the run is 1.8 miles. As far as I know, Lily hasn’t run over a mile at one time in her life. Additionally, when I think about the math, it’s clear to me that she could be competing head-to-head with girls who could be two years older.

To help keep her calm, I keep all of this information to myself.

In the end, they all raced like champions. After watching the older kids kick off the event, Abby set her fears (and her shoes) aside and joined the fray. She and Grace finished 3 & 4, respectively. Abby was just 1:02 from finishing first behind an 8-year-old. Jack finished in the middle of the field, 15th out of 26. There were only three minutes separating him from 5th. And Lily, to my everlasting joy, finished 17th out of 20, just a few minutes from the main pack.

When I asked them if they had fun and whether they were excited about the next one, Lily responded: “I’ll do my next one in 6th grade.” That went completely over my head until Charmaine explained that by then she’ll be 12.

If you’re interested, you can download the complete race results. And here are a few photos of race day:

Silence speaks volumes. Are you listening?

Take time to listen...

Take time to listen…

Sabina Nawaz wrote a post today about setting aside time for silence to allow ideas to emerge and new concepts to form. I don’t think I could agree more. This frenetic pace we’re all on to do more with (seemingly) less time has caused a crises of sorts. If we’re surrounded by even 30 seconds of silence, many of us will reach for our iPhones to check email.

In her post, she talks about coaching executives:

Frequently they tell me about the sacrifices they’ve made for their work: how they’ve slept only three hours the night before, haven’t exercised in months, missed their children’s games. They’re busy because their work is important. They operate under tight timelines and competitive pressures. The stakes are high.

In response, she suggest they try something counter-intuitive: Do less. She recalls John Cage‘s seminal piece 4’33”, which consists of exactly four minutes and thirty-three seconds of silence. I don’t know if you’ve heard it, but you might find it difficult to sit still that long. When the BBC aired the performance, they had to turn off their emergency systems that are designed to automatically fill silence with music. I suspect that your emergency systems would kick in almost as quickly as the radio stations. But silence is exactly what all of us need more of.

If you’re stuck on a problem and the answers evade you, silence can lead the way. If you have writer’s block and can’t seem to find the perfect word (or the motivation to look for it), try silence. If your teenager asks for a car, silence might just work wonders. (Just kidding.)

Nawaz suggest some tips for making your forays into the world of silence successful. Intention is the key, she says:

Set aside a specific time. Find two hours a week. It’s helpful to block out times that are least likely to be requested for meetings: Friday afternoons or before colleagues arrive in the morning.

Turn off the noise. This is not the time to answer emails or tackle a long-neglected project.

Experiment until you find the right format for you. Some people stay at their computers but turn off all Internet access; others journal. Some leave the office to avoid interruptions; they go to a separate building, on a long walk, or a drive into the mountains.

Keep your white space dates. Just as you don’t build muscles by showing up sporadically at the gym, perspective isn’t something you find once and then never need to foster again.

For me, I’ve turned off the radio in the car. I often ride without headphones. The hour I spend in Adoration each week is perhaps the most perfect silence I’ve found. You may find it differently… you may also find that anytime you sit quietly for four minutes you fall asleep, which is really telling you something else entirely.

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These things always start simply enough…

High Above Telluride, Colorado

Image via Wikipedia

This was certainly no exception. A short email from my friend Dave that said, “We’re going on a little bike ride. Want to come?” In this case, the little ride was a little over 200 miles and five days long. At 11,000 feet. Starting in Telluride, Colorado and heading west toward Moab, Utah. Did I want to go? You bet your ass, I did.

Only one little problem: We leave in 30 days.

The trip is one offered by San Juan Huts and is pretty ingenious. They have modest but stocked huts spaced about 30 miles apart up in the mountains. Starting in Telluride, you climb up into the peaks and start the trek. Each night you stay in one of the cabins, each morning you set out for the next one. Five days later (or seven, if you’re taking the longer trip) you ride out of the mountains tired, recharged, and very likely anxious to do the whole thing again.

All of this sounds absolutely perfect, except that I haven’t been on my bike for a decent ride in months. So can I be ready for this in 30 days? I guess we’ll see, because I’m definitely in. (I have to admit I’m at least a little inspired by my friend John White, who set out to pedal from San Diego to Hilton Head with little more than a few hours in the saddle and the sheer audacity that he could do it. Well, that and an aching sense of mid-life crisis, I think.)

I started riding in earnest a couple of days ago. This morning I went out for a little 20-miler from the house up to the end of the Monon Trail near 171st Street. Going to need to find a way to get a lot more saddle time and some trails rides in pretty quick!

If you’re interested (that is likely only you, Mom and Dad), you can keep track of the training schedule and, if you like, read a little more about the trip.

If you’re reading this, you probably agree. And that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

Today’s #trust30 prompt is:

It is easy in the world to live after the world’s opinion; it is easy in solitude to live after our own; but the great man is he who in the midst of the crowd keeps with perfect sweetness the independence of solitude. – Ralph Waldo Emerson, Self-Reliance

The world is powered by passionate people, powerful ideas, and fearless action. What’s one strong belief you possess that isn’t shared by your closest friends or family? What inspires this belief, and what have you done to actively live it?

This may be one of the most thought-provoking things I’ve encountered and, I confess, I’m having a difficult time coming up with an answer. The problem isn’t coming up with things in which I strongly believe; the difficulty lies in finding one that my family and friends don’t share. But isn’t that the way of the world?

I believe, and I think my friends and family would agree, that our beliefs are what bring us together. I would have lots of acquaintances and friends who may disagree on a whole bevy of issues, but on the core issues– the closely held beliefs that essentially define who we are– we’re much more likely to be the same than vastly different.

In the spirit of the exercise, I’ll tell you a few of my beliefs and you can let me know if you disagree:

  • I believe the exuberance of youth is enhanced (not quashed) by the wisdom of experience.
  • I believe as iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another man.
  • I believe that open, honest communication– even if it hurts– is better than the alternative.
  • I believe your future is only limited by the limits you place on yourself.
  • I believe in the power of dreams.
  • I believe we should help each other, not for the purpose of some future recompense, but because it’s the right thing to do.
  • I believe God formed you in the womb to be the person that you are and parents should follow the Hippocratic Oath: “First, do no harm.”

I’m sure there are others, but these are on my mind right now… What do you think?

#trust30 on Twitter; on the web; on my mind.