Category Archives: Nature

What You Do Means More Than What You Say

Posted on 1 January 2026 | Leave a comment

On my way to Richmond to visit my grandchildren, I listened to an episode of Criminal, in which Phoebe Judge interviewed Sister Helen Prejean, who is one of the driving forces behind some of most strongly held beliefs and values. I admire her work, he self-reflection, and her ability to carry on in the face of great adversity. At the end of the podcast, Judge shares a quote from Sister Helen, and it made me think about my own life and how I am currenly living it versus how I would like to live it: “It’s important to take stock to see where I am. The only way I know what I really believe is by keeping watch over what I do.” How many times have I just coasted along saying that I believe something without that belief being born out in my actions?

Throughout my life, I have tried to live a consistent ethic, have integrity, use a strong moral compass, but there have been times I’ve failed, but mostly I have been successful at doing what I say I will do and living in a way that makes me proud of myself. But, it always seems like the times when I have not lived in a way that makes me proud are the times that I look back on and replay over and over in my mind. What could I have said differently, what could I have done differently, how could I have handled that better, how could I have lived more closely to the values I hold most dear? And, not one small part of living in the past, trying to solve those old problems, will help me with the people or situations I have in front of my in the present moment, nor will those mistakes or foibles predict how I will live in the future. They are simply time bound and fixed in the past in a way that can’t be amended. Can I apologize? Yes. Will that always work? No. Can I try to make amends? Yes. Will my offers for peace always be received? No.

I would like to begin to live each moment in a way that will make me proud of myself and living each moment with a strong moral compass, a consistent ethic, and with integrity requires presence. In my own, probably harsher than it needs to be, self-assessment, I have not been really present since I purchased my first iPhone back in 2011. I know it was 2011, because as soon as the iPhone was available with Verizon as a mobiel carrier, I converted, because who wants to have carry a phone and iPod? I am absolutely not blaming my phone for my lack of presence, because I know I make all of my own choices. We are all given free will—a fact that I plan to discuss with God when I arrive in heaven—what a poor design! Over the past 15 years or so, I have watched myself descend into a sort of cyborgian, technological abyss. Through social media, I have become hungry for likes and comments, I have aired my dirty laundry and other peoples, I have spent so much time reading inane articles about nothing, and I have allowed my thoughts, views, opinions, and probably so many other things about myself to become shaped and molded by people I will never meet and likely wouldn’t enjoy if I did meet them. So, I just deactivated all of my social media accounts, except Substack, which I rarely use, and this blog.

My biggest goals this year—I delineated my smaller goals or rituals (https://post.substack.com/p/against-resolutions) in a previous post—are to live in the moment, with the people who are around me, and to free myself from my phone addiction. Recently, I have spent upwards of 5 to 6 hours a day on my phone, and that can’t help but make my relationships suffer. My next move, after I write this is to take off all the apps from my phone, except the ones I use every day to communicate, track my health, and meditate. Hopefully, being intentional about being intentional will improve my relationships and the way I interact with the people I love.

While my brother and I were hiking today, I took two photos to send to my wife, since she was back home in Minnesota and couldn’t be with us on our January 1 Hike. Otherwise, I tried to keep my phone in my pocket, and, you know what, I actually enjoyed my hike more today than I do when I try to document every small part of it in photos for social media.

Here’s to being present.

Jump Start This Thing, Will Ya?

Posted on 28 March 2016 | 2 comments

When I was little there was an exercise place in my hometown that was run by two of my friends’ moms. The name of the place was the “New You.” What I loved about it was that more than being a collection of strange 1970s exercise equipment—yes, they had the fat-jiggler belts—New You was a place where women like my mom could go to feel better about themselves and to be inspired by other women from the same small town. They could all find their New You together.

Once the “New You” closed down, there were a few years where the HC had no exercise facility, and then Tom and Kay opened “Main Street Gym.” Again, the endearing quality of Main Street Gym was the camaraderie of people who went there to make themselves healthier, to challenge and support each other in life’s new journey toward health. My dad still has weightlifting trophies he won while he was lifting weights there, and the rest of my family still has the memory of going there for aerobics classes or weightlifting after school.

My point in sharing all of this is that health and the desire to be fit isn’t new in my life. I’ve ridden this horse before, which is what makes it a bit annoying to admit that I can’t just stay in the land of the fit. Instead I find myself where I was nearly 10 years ago when I started this blog, at around 250 pounds and unwell. More than I have been in the past ten years of goofing around with fitness and wellness, I am looking for a New Me and a community that will hold me accountable and support and challenge me. I want to learn to rock climb with my friends Travis and Angie, and I want to be part of the Mill City weekly runs when I can, and I want to be able to finish some bucket list races, and I can’t if I am fat, itchy, and inflamed.

After I wrote the entry last night, I was up for another several hours watching Ken Burns’ Civil War and pondering why it is I thought I needed to wait until April 1 to start this (renewed too many times) quest. I also thought about how many times I’ve failed at this before, and then I decided with exercise, I need to take it slowly, so no matter how badly I want to start running before May 1, I am forcing myself to walk. Why? I need to ease back into this, so I don’t injure myself and so I don’t burn myself out. Here’s to long walks and dietary abstinence.

Because I couldn’t wait to get started, I got up this morning at 8AM, walked the dogs, and then went for a 70-minute walk along one of my favorite non-state-park routes past the cemetery and the oil refinery. When I got home I made myself some breakfast (beans, rice, onion, garlic, garam masala, spinach, and mushrooms), and drank a big glass of water. Needless to say, I am feeling pretty good about how this day has started off, and I feel like the next 30 days couldn’t be more splendid. Of course, now I have to leave the house and face the real world.

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Posted in Abstinence, Cooking, Fat, Fitness, Food, Goals, Grace, Gym, Health, Joy, Mental Health, Nature, Spirituality, Vegetarian or Vegan, Walking, Weight Loss, Weightlifting, Wellness, Workout

Tagged abstinence, Clean Eating, Diet, Eating, Exercise, Fat, Fitness, Health, Lose Weight, Walking, Weight Loss, Wellness

A Reason to Drive to Minnesota to Throat Punch Me: Fitness

Posted on 7 August 2014 | Leave a comment

If you needed a reason to come to MN to throat punch me, here it is, and I even give you permission, rather the encouragement, to do it. Please, please, please, if I ever say I am going to quit swimming, biking, or running, or if I say I am just going to take a short break from it, get in your car, drive to Newport, Minnesota, and kick my ass. I’ll even give you gas money. If come to throat punch me for some other reason, you’re on your own with the gas money.

That being said, I’ve started running again, very slowly and methodically, but running none the less. I’ve just finished the second week, the second day, of the Couch Potato to 5K program, and it was glorious. I’m hoping to only have to use the guided program for a couple more weeks before my body is just back in the groove of this thing I love. I’m doing most of my running on this trail, The River Bottoms Trail, parts of which are contained in Fort Snelling State Park. The section I am using right now is the part that starts in Mendota, and it’s flat as a pancake, beautiful along the river, and packed dirt so it’s very forgiving, not like concrete or asphalt. As I get better and faster again at running, I’ll explore some of the other parts of the trail, too, but they seem more technical and I don’t want to risk injuring my knee again, so I want to be good and strong before being too adventurous. The waiting is torture. My favorite part of running is careening down hills and skittering back up the other side. It’s a beautiful childlike feeling, but for now I’ll be a 40-year-old who’s afraid to get reinjured.

To begin preparing to train for the Muncie 70.3 next July, I have decided to run three times a week, bike twice a week, and swim twice a week. I’ve already covered my running plan, so I’ll talk about biking. I’m hoping to rope Bec into my biking program next spring, but we’ll see how that goes. We love going for long rides together, so hopefully it’ll mean spending some quality time together once a week for a long ride. Mostly for now, I’m going to ride a couple of short rides each week, then settle into winter. I hate riding in cold weather, so I’ll be spending some time in the garage on the trainer, which I hate almost as much. Maybe I need to get a cheap TV to put out there to make the time pass more quickly. Such is life in Minnesota as a biker in the winter, but there is always spring.

Finally, I just sent for my community lap swim card. Talk about a super-cool, super-weird deal: the schools in our district open their pools for lap swim for anyone in the community. It costs $65 A YEAR to join the community lap swim program. $65 A YEAR! The pools are open four nights a week, and the one closest to my house is open on Monday and Wednesday from 8PM to 9PM, which is perfect. I can get in a nice swim two nights a week, just before bed. I had registered for Big Shoulders this year, but since I haven’t been swimming, I’m going to forgo my participation and watch my friend Teresa do Ironman Wisconsin. I’ll try for Big Shoulders again next year when I’ve been in the pool more.

Here is what I hope my weeks to come will look like:

Day	Monday	Tuesday	Wednesday	Thursday	Friday	Saturday	Sunday
Activity	Swim	Run	Swim	Run	Bike	LongRun	Bike
Time	8-9PM	Whenever	8-9PM	Whenever	Whenever	Whenever	Afternoon

Getting back into this type of training is much more difficult than just sticking with it could ever be, so please, please, please, heed my offer. If I ever, ever, ever, mention quitting or taking a break, make the drive and throat punch me. I won’t be surprised about it, and I’ll pay for your gas.

On a totally unrelated note, people who have very long acrylic fingernails should not be allowed to type in public. Isn’t that so the late 1990s early 2000s anyway? The clicking reminds me of Edgar Allan Poe’s poem “The Bells.” The clicking is maddening. In fact, I think my work is finished here. I’m going to go home and shower, then find a place to get my newest tattoo. Happy Birthday to me.

Mystic Monday: Guico I, Solitude

Posted on 17 February 2014 | Leave a comment

“You are aware that in the Old Testament, and especially in the New, almost all the greater and more profound secrets were revealed to God’s friends when they were alone and not in the midst of milling crowds. These same friends of God almost always avoided the hindrance of crowds and sought out the convenience of solitude when they wanted to mediate more deeply on something, or to pray with greater freedom, or when they wished to be removed from earthly concerns through mental energy. […] and you should agree that solitude is the greatest support for sweet psalmody, pious reading, fervent prayer, deep meditation, ecstatic contemplation, and the baptism of tears.” —Guico I, from The Essential Writings of Christian Mysticism

My students and I have been reading the American Romantics for the past six weeks or so, and they are always struck by the amount of time the writers spend alone. I am always envious of the same. What strikes me about Christian mystics, especially the earlier ones, is their love and appreciation for silence, for being alone, and for prayer and meditation. Why aren’t American Christians as dedicated to making space for God’s voice? I try and fail to open up solitude and quiet, even for a few minutes. Thoreau writes in Walden: “I find it wholesome to be alone the greater part of the time. To be in company, even with the best, is soon wearisome and dissipating. I love to be alone. I never found the companion that was so companionable as solitude.” I, too, like to be alone, and I am wearied by even my best and closest friends. Don’t get me wrong, I love being with people, but being real and present with others is exhausting and sometimes confusing. But there is a difference between being alone because I want solitude, like Thoreau, and being alone because I strive to hear the voice of God, like Guico I.

How, then, can I as a 21st century Christian foster the type of solitude that elicits the revelation of God’s profound secrets? Where can I pause, meditate and pray, and hear those deep stirrings that I long for? Most days I am so caught up in my own life and its pressures and deadlines that I forget to take a moment to listen for God. I forget—no I don’t forget—I don’t make time to just be, to just sit in the presence of Nature and listen for God. I worry about the future, when I should just simply be. I try to interpret my past, when I should just simply be. I miss everything present because I am on a deadline. I know that “solitude is the greatest support for sweet psalmody, pious reading, fervent prayer, deep meditation, ecstatic contemplation, and the baptism of tears,” but I will never experience it if I don’t make solitude a priority and not just an escape from the chaos of the world. The solitude I need to experience God is an intentional solitude wherein I try to hear God’s voice, sense God’s presence, and feel God’s joys and sorrows.

I suppose the feeling of God in moments of intentional solitude mirrors Margaret Fuller’s awe at the face of a Niagara Falls that she thought she already knew everything about: “This was the climax of the effect which the falls produced upon me-neither the American nor the British fall moved me as did these rapids. For the magnificence, the sublimity of the latter I was prepared by descriptions and by paintings.” This reminds me of the ways in which God just sort of creeps up on us in the least expected ways. We look toward the falls for the great beauty, but we are taken aback by the simplicity and power of the falls. I hope I can find some ways to be taken in by the sublime nature of God’s unexpected beauty, but I know that will only happen if I make time to seek God intentionally through prayer and meditation in solitude. I wont’ be overcome by rapids in a crowd of people. So, I ask again, how can I make time for beautiful solitude in which I come to expect to hear the voice of God? Possibly I’ll make time for a retreat of solitude this summer, but more intentionally, I’ll make 15 minutes each morning for meditation and prayer.

Category Archives: Nature

Jump Start This Thing, Will Ya?

A Reason to Drive to Minnesota to Throat Punch Me: Fitness

Mystic Monday: Guico I, Solitude

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