Leaving the Edges

Modern Reflections on Ancient Principles

This year I’ve committed with my wife to reading through scripture. Although I was raised to understand the stories of the Bible, and studied excerpts through a literary lens in college, I have never been disciplined enough to read through the Bible from cover to cover. As we currently read through Leviticus (let’s be honest, most of these laws feel old, dry and outdated in modern life), I was struck by some principles whose values seemed relevant today that I wanted to take a moment to chew on.

There’s an old command, buried in the book of Leviticus, that speaks louder today than ever before:

“When you reap the harvest of your land, do not reap to the very edges of your field or gather the gleanings of your harvest. Leave them for the poor and the foreigner residing among you.” (Leviticus 23:22)

At first glance, this verse seems outdated. Something for farmers in ancient Israel, not modern-day people navigating busy lives, full schedules, and personal ambitions. But the principle behind it is timeless: true prosperity isn’t measured by what we keep, but by what we leave for others.

The Edges of Our Fields

In ancient times, this law ensured that no one was left behind. The poor and the outsider had a right to gather from the fields, preserving both their dignity and survival. The landowners were not commanded to hand over food directly but to create space for those in need to help themselves.

Fast forward to today: We may not be harvesting fields, but we are harvesting time, energy, and resources. And the question remains - are we leaving the edges, or are we taking everything for ourselves?

Consumerism and self-preservation dominate modern culture. We fill our schedules to the brim, spend our resources on personal gain, and prioritize convenience over connection. Even as conversations about equity and inclusion in society shift, we must ask ourselves whether our personal actions reflect a willingness to make room for others, or if we are taking everything for ourselves.

A Moment of Reflection

Regardless of faith or background, the lesson is the same: if we take everything for ourselves, who is left with nothing?

Take a simple example-your time. Imagine you’re in line at the grocery store, in a rush, with a long list of things to do. You see someone behind you with just a few items, maybe a parent struggling with a restless toddler or an elderly person who looks tired. You have a choice: do you let them go ahead, leaving the edges of your time, or do you hold on tightly to every second?

This is a small moment, but it speaks to a larger mindset. Do we create margin in our lives for kindness, generosity, and awareness of others? Or do we structure our days so tightly that there’s no room for anything beyond our own needs?

Rising Above Self-Interest

Living with open hands does not mean losing something for ourselves. It means acknowledging that life is not just about what we can gain, but about what we can give.

This is not just about grand gestures. It’s about the daily choices we make:

• Taking the time to truly listen when someone needs to talk.

• Leaving space in our budgets to support a local food pantry or community program.

• Teaching children not just to succeed, but to consider how their actions impact those around them.

On a day where we honor the life of a family member who recently passed, it has unique significance considering how we spend our time and how we want to be remembered.

So, the question remains: What are the edges of your field? And what are you doing with them?

Triggered

Sometimes, it is the benign moments that trigger the most profound waves of grief—simple sights or sounds that pull back the veil on a sorrow still raw beneath the surface. One might find joy in the happiness in a “normal” day, yet that same normalcy seems oddly wrong in a life that has experienced the loss of a child. It is paradoxical how happiness can swiftly morph into heartache, bringing forth memories that stir longing and loss, despite the passage of nearly a year since that horrific event.

In times of sickness, when the body is frail and weary, the mind can be more susceptible and prone to falter. The recovery can feel daunting and heavier with every passing moment. Tasks that should be simple become Herculean struggles, and the realization of this difficulty brings with it an overwhelming sense of failure. The climb back to health is steep and unforgiving, magnifying every setback, no matter how small. Grief resurfaces without warning, a shadow that lingers, stinging like an unhealed wound; each surge of emotion pain brings waves of nausea that overlap with the physical bouts of diarrhea that have made me feel raw to the core the past few days.

The frustration of being unable to change the past weighs heavily on the heart. It’s a relentless cycle, as fleeting memories trigger waves of sorrow that crash against the shores of a fragile spirit. Just when it seems manageable, an innocuous reminder—the character in a movie, a baby bump on an expecting mother—strikes a nerve and sends ripples of grief coursing through one’s body, leaving a lingering in the gut that is hard to shake.

In those moments, one seeks out glimmers of hope, fragile as they may be. Little sparks of joy, whether found in nature, progress at work, companionship, or creativity, become essential lifelines—small reminders that even amidst despair, there exists the potential for healing and light. Holding onto these moments becomes a quiet rebellion against the darkness, a testament to resilience in the face of an unrelenting tide of emotion. When looking at the horizon and seeing the bleakness of a barren landscape of winter, one has to have faith in a spring that is bound to come just around the corner and simply keep one’s eye trained on the horizon while leaning in.

Ripples of Happiness

With another step on a familiar path, a sense of empowerment creeps back as the rhythm of my feet on the treadmill chase a sense of normalcy. Not something I’m normally proud of, but today something is better than nothing. Later in the day, gathering the kids for a light swim at the gym brought a welcome warmth to the evening. Laughter echoed off the pool walls as I gave my daughter increasing leads and would race her length after length. Splashes filled the air and for a brief evening a healthy dose of fun is helping us all to feel grounded once again.

The Dark Side of the Pillow

The sickness has settled in, bringing a wave of nausea and restless night filled with frequent trips to the bathroom and an overwhelming sense of fatigue that lingers throughout the day. Sleep comes in brief, uneasy stretches, only to be interrupted by the constant urge to stay close to the restroom. I can only focus on recovery by pushing fluids as much as possible. Each small sip offers a glimmer of hope for a quicker return to normalcy…

Weighing the Options

There are days when the body feels heavy, drained by the demands of daily life. Perhaps you’ve faced a long week and have left you feeling utterly wiped. when that happens, the thought of fitting in a workout can feel like a tough equation to balance.

The internal conflict arises: Should you push through the exhaustion and commit to a workout, or is it wiser to surrender to the fatigue and rest? On one hand, the motivation to maintain your fitness routine can urge you to lace up your sneakers and head to the treadmill, armed with the belief that a brief session might rejuvenate both body and mind.

On the other hand, the notion of sacrificing precious rest time for physical exertion can seem counterproductive, especially when your body is signaling a need for recuperation.
Making this decision isn’t easy. While the drive to stay consistent and push one’s limits is admirable, it’s essential to listen to your body’s signals.

Ignoring your fatigue can lead to burnout or even injury, while recognizing the importance of rest can support long-term wellness. Thus, weighing the benefits of a single workout against the necessity of restorative sleep could guide you toward a more balanced choice on a challenging day.

A Winning Event

Celebrating our engage-aversary at the Target Center was a night to remember. The atmosphere was electric as we entered the arena, surrounded by excited fans and the rhythmic thump of basketballs echoing in the background. Although the Timberwolves faced a heartbreaking loss at the buzzer, the experience rose above the scoreboard.

As we reminisce about this special occasion, it also nudges us closer to our upcoming ten-year wedding anniversary. This milestone prompts a deep reflection on our journey together, despite our adversities this past year. Each obstacle has brought us not only closer to one another but has strengthened the foundation of our relationship.

Celebrating the date we made our commitment to one another serves as a reminder of our resilience and the joy we find in sharing life’s experiences, both triumphant and challenging.

The evening at the game may not have ended in victory for the team, but it certainly was a win for us as a couple. Moments like this remind us of the importance of celebrating not just the big milestones but also the small experiences that knit our lives together.

Catching a crab

The room was dimly lit with the bed, adorned with soft blankets and pillows, beckoned with the promise of comfort, but the weight of the lingering to-do list loomed heavily in the mind. As the minutes danced by, a sense of defeat settled in; it was now 9:30 PM, a full fifteen minutes past the intended bedtime. Despite the day's hustle and the mental checklist for work, to sustain my calorie deficit, and taking care of the needs of my family, the final item—ending the day with a moment of peace—remained uncrossed, shining like an unfinished thought. With a sigh, the day’s accomplishments felt overshadowed by this small but lingering disappointment, the reminder of how easily time slips away.

Life often presents us with situations where we miss cut-offs or overlook important action items. Whether it’s failing to stick to a bedtime routine or skipping a key task, these moments can feel discouraging. However, they also provide opportunities for acceptance and resiliency. By recognizing the situation, stepping back, and allowing ourselves to rest, we can create a foundation for recommitting to our goals.

When one falters, it’s essential to first cultivate acceptance. Acknowledging what happened—rather than berating ourselves—helps to clarify our feelings and sets the stage for moving forward. Acceptance doesn’t mean we resign ourselves to failure; instead, it allows us to confront reality without unnecessary self-criticism. This shift in perspective can be a powerful tool for growth.

After missing my bedtime routine yesterday (by a long shot), it became clear that my day today was affected. Rather than dwell on the setback, I chose to take a step back. Stepping back isn’t about disengaging; instead, it’s about creating space to assess my situation. This moment of reflection allows me to acknowledge the importance of balance in my life.

In this process, listening to our bodies, logic, and intuition is vital. We must respect the limits of our physical and mental health, balancing our ambitions with self-care. When we take the time to tune in to these aspects, we can make informed decisions that align with our long-term goals.

Even when we deviate from our intended paths, it’s important to remember that one setback doesn’t define our journey. By recommitting the next day—with renewed energy shaped by acceptance—we can harness the lessons learned from our experience to drive us forward.

After acknowledging my missed routine, I took small but meaningful steps today to stay committed. Each positive action, even if minor, reinforces our resilience. The energy that comes from a balanced approach—one that respects both our aspirations and our well-being—enables us to double down on significant efforts. It also tempers desire that can lead to spiraling, and the more this is suppressed, the easier it is to fuel the good habits that need extra kindling.

Tomorrow is a new day, and with it comes the chance to reenergize. Take a deep breath, give back this feeling to God to hold. Trust that tomorrow will show a path to redeem oneself. Resilience is not merely about pushing through; it’s about understanding, adapting, and riding the tide amid life’s inevitable dips and swells...and today was like catching a crab (an unclean pull of an oar that catches the water to break the rhythm (as seen at 1:42 https://youtu.be/yn2R3g5foFM?si=sozrrAPbSG_I_7hT)).

Blue on a Green Day

Monday started this week with the vibrant red of determination. The fire of motivation pushed through a tough workout, setting the tone for the days to unfold.

Tuesday followed in a bright orange glow, where everything fell into place; deadlines were met, and goals were achieved with ease.

Wednesday, a rich yellow, shone down as successes continued, bringing warmth and positivity to each task at hand.

By Thursday, it felt as though the week was on a flawless streak, a serene green enveloping the day, suggesting peace and contentment.
However, as the sun rose unexpected blue, settling in like a fog over the awakening heart. Even though I got up early, crushed my workout, and noticed how all those days of pushing myself were paying off, there was still this heavy feeling hanging around. My men’s group opened me up last night, leaving me feeling exposed as I faced a new day that should’ve felt bright and full of success.

Though this morning's haze of blue might carry a weight, but it also foreshadows an opportunity for further introspection. Acknowledging the emotional weight might be my call to explore resilience. Perhaps today the next step is to embrace the full spectrum of emotions, recognizing that they intricately weave our experiences together. It's okay to feel blue amid the successes; it can serve as a reminder to nurture the emotional self just as we do our physical well-being. Today, I will take a breath, honor these feelings, and move forward with the confidence that emotional vulnerability can inspire even greater strength.

Adaptability

“What is within my realm of control?”

This simple yet profound question surfaces as I wake up later than I intended, my body feeling heavy with the lingering remnants of sleep, uncertain whether it's the onset of a cold that is creeping in or the continued effects of sleeping pills that have blurred my morning clarity. The world is still dark, but as I look ant my watch I know I’ve gone past the Point of No Return to get the planned workout completed. A wave of urgency washes over me, accompanied by a subtle undercurrent of anxiety and fear as though ulven ser på meg fra det svarte (the wolf looks at me from the black). Any disruption in routine rattles the foundation of discipline I’ve carefully built over time. I must remind myself that not everything that is broken can be repaired immediately; some things simply require acceptance and patience as I navigate the day ahead.

As I gather my swirling thoughts, I begin to center myself. While I can't control every external factor or the occasional hiccup that may arise in my schedule, I can certainly focus on what remains steady and unwavering—the conscious choices I make in the moments that lie ahead. A brief assessment of my priorities reveals what I need to do next to regain my footing. This moment is crucial and pivotal. With a deep breath that fills my lungs, I decide to reclaim my day, to honor that which motivates me, and refocus my discipline that guides me through life's challenges.

A welling sense of affirmation fills me as I articulate my intentions clearly: the commitment to control my diet will take precedence above all else. Tracking what I consume transcends my usual focus on workout metrics. Over the next 187 days, I resolutely commit to nourishing my body appropriately, intending to starve my fat cells of easy carbohydrates and fats, and instead, prioritize protein for optimal muscle development while effectively slimming down as I simultaneously bulk-up.

The path that lies before me is clear and promising.

• Review Tasks: I’ll check off small completed tasks to build momentum and focus on those that matter most.

• Add Small Efforts: I’ll look for opportunities to take small actions that further my goals, like a quick set of sit-ups between calls.

• Update Evening Routine: Consider modifying our night routine with kids to include more physical activities like walks or games that can increase fitness when I have a missed morning workout.

Half of a Workout is Still a Workout

Starvation #236

The fear of failure often looms larger after achieving a perfect training day. Moments of triumph can create an unintentional pressure to replicate that success. After a day filled with diligent practice of Norwegian, thoughtful scripture reading, a solid workout, balanced meals, and proper rest, the expectation for the following days can feel overwhelming.

The notion of needing to repeat this routine for 189 more days can lead to anxiety, as the mind races with thoughts of what happens if perfection slips away. One perfect day can amplify the stakes, making the fear of falling short feel akin to a daunting weight.
Establishing and maintaining a routine is challenging in itself, but the mental burden of sustaining it over an extended period only intensifies the difficulty. The body may respond positively, showing signs of progress, yet the mind wrestles with doubt.

The consistent push to swim, bike, and run must be balanced to avoid over-exertion; soreness can serve as a reminder that even with dedication, the body has its limits. Each training session needs to be carefully tailored, ensuring that physical efforts align with recovery time. The fine line between pushing hard enough to improve and risking injury or burnout can be a source of ongoing concern.

Today was a prime example of how life can disrupt even the most determined plans. What was intended to be a straightforward bike session turned complicated, as the demands of family life took precedence. Children require attention, and fulfilling those responsibilities often comes at the expense of personal training goals. This juxtaposition of parental commitments and personal aspirations can create a sense of guilt, as though taking time for oneself is selfish. Yet, nurturing family connections is essential, reminding us that balance is not only desirable but necessary.

Finding ways to place family first while still caring for one’s own well-being requires intentionality. It means carving out pockets of time for personal pursuits while also engaging meaningfully with loved ones. This can involve early mornings or late evenings dedicated to training, ensuring family obligations are met without sacrificing personal commitments. It may also necessitate open communication with family members about the importance of individual goals, fostering an understanding that supports growth and health for everyone involved.

Ultimately, the journey towards achieving a perfectly healthy life is not linear. Each day will vary, presenting its own set of challenges and triumphs. Embracing the inevitability of imperfection may lessen the burden of fear. The focus should shift from an unrealistic expectation of daily perfection to resuming the pursuit of progress, and reaffirming the dedication to both self-care and family. In this continuous cycle of training and life, acknowledging that both aspects have equal value will lead to a more sustainable and fulfilling experience.

This is what winning looks like today:

Liquid Green

Chris Hemsworth’s National Geographic series Limitless series explores the potential of fasting as a method for improving physical and mental resilience. It presents various approaches to nutrition and wellness that challenge traditional paradigms. This week, inspired by the series, I focused on achieving a caloric deficit of at least 1,000 calories a day while aiming for a protein intake of 163 grams. This rigorous nutrition plan required careful meal preparation and creative thinking to meet my dietary goals.

As part of this endeavor, I decided to incorporate a green vanilla matcha protein pre-workout shake. At first glance, the drink's visual presentation was unappealing; the murky green color mixed with hints of beige failed to inspire confidence. I initially hesitated, feeling that the shake would taste as strange as it looked. However, I was surprised by the subtle, pleasant sweetness that emerged with each sip. The combination of matcha and vanilla created a harmonious flavor that not only masked any trace of bitterness but also provided a gentle energy boost, awakening my body and mind for the day ahead.

This unexpected delight is transforming my morning routine. As I sipped on the shake, I felt a sense of accomplishment—not just for the commitment to hitting my nutritional goals, but for embracing an experience that initially seemed uninviting. In doing so, I connected with both Hemsworth's exploration of resilience through fasting and my own journey toward healthier living.

Each Day is a New Day

After months of unwavering commitment and disciplined routines, it can be disheartening to notice only minimal progress in fitness journeys. Yet, this realization can serve as a catalyst for new beginnings. Embracing the concept of small victories allows one to redefine success beyond mere physical changes, fostering a deeper understanding of health and well-being.

By shifting focus to consistency, mental resilience, and the joy of movement, the stoic mind can reignite their motivation and discover fresh pathways to growth. Renewed perspective needs reinforcement, so trust this process with others…

The Quiet Power of Showing Up

It begins before the world stirs, before the sun has risen to cast its first golden rays upon the frost-laden ground. It begins in the hush, that fragile, fleeting moment where life feels as if it holds its breath. The clock says 4:30 a.m., but it might as well be eternity. For in that quiet, there is a sacred choice: rise, or roll back into the warmth of fleeting comfort.

You rise.

Habit is not glamorous. The daily grind of routine is not the stuff of dramatic headlines or triumphant finales. It is, instead, a quiet war—a war not fought with others but within oneself. The battle to wake while the sun still slumbers, to slip on a warm sweatshirt to balance the cold cement steps that are soon to follow with nothing but the resolve to simply show up.

Espresso pulls hot and strong, its aroma curling with steam into those golden moments of stillness. Savoring that first sip, feeling the warmth of it seep into your soul as it prepares for the work ahead. Today, like yesterday, like tomorrow, you will practice. Practice a new language—“God morgen,” you whisper to yourself, the Norwegian syllables foreign but hopeful: Good morning. You will read a verse of scripture, not to feel better, but to be better. Sweat will bead your brow as you cleanse your body of yesterday’s inertia. And when all is quiet again, you will sit—not to plan, not to fix, but to reflect.

There is a grace in consistency, a humility in returning to the same tasks day after day, knowing that each step forward is small, perhaps imperceptible. But oh, how those steps add up. Where others sprint, tiring themselves on the altar of impatience, you walk. And when they fall, you remain steady, unshaken by the fleeting glory of hares. “Sakte og jevnt,” slow and steady..

Do you falter? Of course. We all do. There are mornings when the bed feels like the kindest place in the world. But then, there is grace—a whisper that says, “It’s okay. Begin again tomorrow.” And so you let go, and give in.

The mundane of consistency is not mundane at all. It is the foundation upon which character is built, the scaffolding of a life well-lived. To rise each day, to give your all—not in fits and bursts, but in the steady rhythm of commitment—is to embrace that of the middle way. Not too much, not too little. Measured sways between two points on the pendulum.

And at the end of the day, when the sun has long since kissed the horizon goodbye and the world settles into its slumber once more, you find yourself spent. But it’s a good kind of tired—the kind that fills rather than depletes, that assures you that today, you showed up.

And tomorrow? You will do it all again. Not for glory, not for applause, but for the quiet, unshakable satisfaction of knowing that you chose to live.

The world may not notice your quiet victories, but you will, and that’s enough.

Embracing the slow drip of change

New beginnings often serve as a powerful reminder of the potential for change and growth in our lives. Committing to new habits can transform our daily routines and, ultimately, our overall well-being. Whether it’s dedicating time to exercise, prioritizing sleep, or improving healthier food choices, these habits require perseverance and consistency.

The process may be gradual, but each small step taken lays the foundation for a more fulfilling and balanced life. Embracing these changes with dedication are the drip drip of success.

Fight Failure Friday

Elegance in Simplicity

In an effort to continue to establish good habits (Norwegian: “vane” as opposed to bad habits “uvane”), my friend challenged me as he reframed his own goals for 2025 with a simple phrase, “More often than not.” At first, I balked, wondering if this was simply moving the goalposts and not really committing to the rigors of the metrics he had established the prior year. However, after talking more, I came to realize that there’s an added efficiency and inherent value in being able to simply and concisely saying: “These are the habits that will give me the desired outcome. I’m human and will give myself grace to fail, but aim to have the general trend tend towards success.” I often try to pack too much into an idea, too much into a sentence, too much into my own expectations of myself and consequently too much into my expectations of others. I need to balance my ideals with pragmatism and realize that this is exactly what I did in 2024 implicitly (realizing gains through habitual commitment and change), though I felt worse about it because my bar was set higher than my body and mind were able to give. I’ve recommitted then to a few simple metrics that I know will move the needle this year.

I know through years of tracking that my leading indicator in success is the time I’m able to to fall asleep. I’m always able to push through, get up, and power through a day, but when I’m rested, I accomplish more before everyone else is up and that extra 10-15% gives me the fuel to feel accomplished throughout the day. Therefore by 8am, I know what my day will generally result in.

“More often than not”

Means at least an attempt. No required minimum other than the simple act of action in the direction. One step, one word, one action meets this metric.

Means what it says. 4 out of 7 days, 183 out of 365 days. Tracked # Weekly Count (#/7): # Annual Count (#/365).

Means a system that you can’t hide from. Accountability distilled. In the question, “Were you successful this week?,” you don’t have to consult a spreadsheet. If you’re doing what you’re supposed to, you’ll be able to confidently answer and call out your own vulnerabilities. The remedy is triggered by around one simple system: bedtime routine.

My Categories and Metrics (in chronological order):

Norwegian Study 4:9

Scripture Study 4:9

Daily Workout 3:7

Writing 1:1

Counting Calories 1:1

Bed by 9:15pm 0:0 (though trending closer since being off over winter break)

Fight Failure Friday

Failure Friday has become a staple of traditional New Year’s resolutions that fall apart by the second Friday of the year (this year is Jan 10th - tomorrow).

Pick a friend, consider your leading indicators in your life and what’s important to you in the year ahead, and hold yourself and those close to you accountable. The brain can easily remember 3-5 things, so be honest with yourself and start small and build up. I already have my Norwegian and Scripture habits locked in, and daily workouts have been more often than not for the last 5 months. Therefore, I’m ready to look closer at going to bed earlier, adding more writing and doubling down on counting calories. Wish me luck, and keep me accountable.

Shout out to my buddy who’s keeping me on track, and leading by example!

A New Year's Reflection

As the soft dawn of January 1, 2025, breaks upon us, a gentle hush blankets the world. The chill in the air carries with it both a finality and hope—a paradox I intimately know. This morning, though frost clings to the edges of the window, the warmth of our intertwined stories provides a heat that transcends the cold.

In stepping into this new year, I carry a bittersweet weight within, the memory of my child woven intricately into the fabric of every moment. The echoes laughter in our day to day life are whispers now, as I try to lead our family out of heartbreak.

With a morning jog to force my body to move, each heartbeat pains and soothes—a reminder of where my love remains. Today, in moments of reflection, I find that my grief has become not just a solitary burden but a shared as I emotionally regulate those closest to me.

It was not until I uncovered the fragility of my own heart that I understood the strength found in vulnerability. In reaching out, in confiding my sorrow to others, I’ve begun to tap into reservoirs of resilience and the healing powers of connection as our story of loss is often stitched together with silence, woven through threads of isolation. By embracing my own vulnerability, I am trying to find moments of balance where I don’t have to carry my pain alone; while not pulling down those around me.

As the new year unfolds, I find myself looking to the horizon for a new journey to unfold. As I set my sights on another endurance triathlon, it seems daunting yet feels symbolic as I find a way to channel my grief into physical and thereby mental resilience. Each stroke, each pedal, each step resonates with a determined heartbeat, echoing in rhythm with my efforts. As I surround myself with fellow athletes, I embrace the challenge, feeling the pulse of community at my side. There is a beauty in training together, in sharing not only our ambitions but also our apprehensions.

Waking before dawn, I find whispers of hope. The highs and lows of training have become a more collective experience the more that I share, where triumph tastes sweeter and setbacks are softened by understanding and acceptance. As this new year dawns upon us, I’m challenging myself to open my heart wide, to embrace vulnerability as a conduit of healing, not only for myself but also to set the tone for the life we create together.

Before I can begin, I breath for him

Every morning begins the same way, yet now it feels wholly different. Before, I would roll out of bed to go through the motions, yet now a pull myself from one step to the next. Before I can even entertain the thought of facing the day ahead and look myself in the mirror, I drag myself to the treadmill in the corner of my garage gym. It's become more than just a piece of exercise equipment; it's a lifeline, a tether keeping me afloat and within my body.

As I step onto the treadmill, the weight of grief settles around me like a heavy blanket. Each step heavy, the weight of grief hangs heavy on my shoulders, pulling me down with each trudging step, as if I carry the weight of the world within me.

And yet, I keep moving. Because even as my heart is oddly ok some days and pangs in my chest other days, I know that I cannot let the darkness consume me. So I push myself first just to get up and go, then to go just a little bit faster, and maybe in a day, a week, a month to run, as if the physical exertion can somehow outrun the pain that lingers in the shadows.

But it's not just the treadmill that serves as a reminder of what I have lost. As I move through my workout routine to squats because it’s leg-day, what should be my favorite day, each breath that gets deeper and harder between reps brings me back to those agonizing hours spent with my child in my arms, watching helplessly as he fought to hold on.

I can hear the sound of his labored breathing, the sight of his tiny chest rising and falling with each gasp for air. I remember the feeling of my own chest tightening with fear and grief, the desperate prayers whispered in the silence of the hospital room to bring him peace.

And yet, amidst the pain and the heartache, there is also a strange sense of comfort in the familiarity of the ritual. As I struggle to catch my breath between sets, there is a strange sense of satisfaction and reassurance as I am reminded that I am still here, still fighting, still clinging to the fragments of a life that I once knew. Oddly, I’m also enamored by my strange pride in his tenacity and ability to push for as long as his little heart, probably the size of a small clementine, could.

Each drop of sweat that falls to the ground is an offering, a silent vow to honor the memory of Aiden by living my life with purpose and intention. Even on the days when the weight of grief threatens to crush me, I find solace in the simple act of putting one foot in front of the other, of breathing in and out, of moving forward, one step at a time.

Pedaling Through Grief

As I sit here, sweat-drenched and breathless, the hum of the tacx bike trainer slowly fading down the background, I find myself reflecting on the journey that brought me to this moment. Just a few short days ago, the very idea of getting back into a workout routine felt like an insurmountable obstacle, an impossible feat in the wake of losing my precious baby. Yet here I am, pedaling through the pain, one revolution at a time.

I know the road back to fitness after such a profound loss will be anything but smooth. A small interruption from my kids has me jumping off early to give them an embrace. There have been days when even the thought of stepping onto this bike felt like too much to bear, days when the weight of grief threatened to drag me under. But there have also been moments of triumph, of clarity, of love, of fleeting glimpses of the person I used to be before my world was shattered.

Today's ride was one of those moments. As I pushed myself to go just a little bit faster, to pedal just a little bit harder through the pain I still feel constant in my chest, I felt a sense of liberation wash over me. For those precious minutes, the grief and the guilt faded into the background, replaced by the steady rhythm of my heartbeat and the rush of wind against my skin.

But even as I reveled in the sense of freedom that came with each pedal stroke, I couldn't escape the reminders of what I have lost. The echoing silence of the guest room with a scent of fresh paint that days ago been a nursery, the knowledge that no matter how fast or how far I ride, I can never outrun the ache in my heart.

And yet, amidst the struggle, there is also a glimmer of hope as I pedal towards an uncertain future while being reminded that healing is a journey and an exploration of the soul. It's not about reaching some arbitrary finish line or achieving some unattainable level of perfection. It's about finding moments of joy and solace amidst the sorrow, about honoring the memory of the one I have lost by living my life to the fullest.

So I will continue to pedal, to push myself beyond my limits, to embrace the pain and the joy and the bittersweet beauty of it all. Because in the end, it's not about how fast or how far I ride, but about the courage it takes to keep moving forward, one revolution at a time. And for today, that's enough.

Aiden

Aiden Howard Hyland

4/5/24 - 4/8/24

Back to Basics

Over the past couple of months, the struggle to get back to 5am CST wake-ups for morning workouts has been real. After spending two months on the west coast, adapting to Pacific time, my sleep schedule was completely thrown off track. Initially, waking up at 5am felt like a herculean task. But, slowly and steadily, through consistent sleep training and a determined mindset, I managed to form a habit. It took some time to adjust my body clock and transition back to the Central Standard Time routine. But now, finally, I can proudly say that waking up at 5am has become second nature. With each passing day, my body has grown accustomed to the early morning rhythms, and I am once again able to tackle my morning workouts with renewed energy and focus. It's amazing how we can adapt and reset our sleep patterns when we put our mind to it. The toughest part is still the nightly routine where I sometimes don’t get to bed or are awaken by kids. As long as I can be in bed by 9pm and get 6 hours at a minimum, I can reliably adjust my day to stay successful. The important piece to anchor this, I’ve found, is jumping out of bed and going to the restroom with a glass ready to down a large cup of water. As my body wakes in my garage gym with bright lights and a cup of black coffee, I allowed myself the time needed to enjoy the process and savor the peace of the morning hours. Before working out, I started a stretch routine, and now I add it after the main set. Little by little, 15 min a week and I’m back to my goal.