My phone is...well, no more. Lately, it has been in tatters—I like phones from the late 90's MUCH more. I absolutely LOVED my old Nokia 5150, incidentally the same name of a Van Halen album that reminds me of drives home from Casper Creek, my HS Senior, Saturday night boot-scoot boogie.

But, I'm flying way off tangent...

My phone didn't serve in the telephony capacity. I valued it to serve its hotspot capacity when I found the perfect spot to pick up a signal and from there, my PC would pick it up my phone's wifi to then then serve it up to my wifi router for complete house coverage. I'm trying to use my old Jetpack again, but I threw out my antenna setup over a year ago.

It's a real bummer.

When I first experienced the losses of my elliptical and my recumbent bike within a week of one another, I considered it a set back. Yet, days later, it's becoming a boon. As I ONLY have my treadmill for cardio equipment, it focuses me to train exactly that which I need to train—big picture anyway.

Yes, my feet ache and even my calves are sore, but that's EXACTLY what I want to do, condition and strengthen. Plus, there are PLENTY of lean folks who suck at cardio—that was never me at a normal BMI range.

Sure, I work out for the future. Yet, these workouts remind of the past. Some of it is surface level: I specifically remember times and MPH that I could hit 18 years ago that I'm nowhere near its neighborhood today.

Other reminders are periods where I trained for a specific purpose in mind, like springtime 2001, beyond the funk that was my Fall 2000. I had my mind focused on becoming a Naval Aviator which prompted near daily swimming after a resistance routine. That entire semester was focused on that one goal. Now as things turned out, after doing everything I needed to enter OCS, I chose a different direction. Some horses can never be saddled. But, it was a season of a lot of sweat.

Other periods where I trained was just a part of who I am.

I remember my 2004 move out to Arizona after my Dad's death and my first venture into Europe. I chose a vegan life and I spent a couple of hours a day roaming the trails of Flagstaff. I gave up my employment search there and returned to Tennessee to live for a few months in an empty commercial building and ran laps on its concrete floor to pass the time until a job prospect hit.

I remember 1996, 1997, 1998, 1999 and the countless hours spent sparring and all the waiting around for just a moment of exhilaration at Taekwondo tournaments.

I remember a 2015 when I laid out an entire year of training while entering 5K's leading up to a marathon, only to have my mother's passing to completely emotionally gas me from any further progress.

I remember a 2005 where I watched my feet churn over and over again while bicycling to and from work and all around Midtown, an unfocused exercise regimen that maintained my weight and allowed a lifestyle of beer and chips.

I remember a 1995 with wrestling practices and matches where running was no different than walking to me, yet leaving it behind toward the end of the season simply because I failed to see what its end objective was for my life. And looking back, it was no different than a tabletop game.

I remember 1989, 1990, 1991, 1992, 1993, 1994, 1995, 1996, 1997 of playing basketball pickup games around the neighborhood or with friends from Piggly Wiggly Bartlett or up at Singleton or at Bellevue or at UofM. All the times when I'd always choose to guard the biggest guy and all times playing with in a drenched with sweat t-shirt. Setting picks, crashing the boards, cleaning up trash, playing enforcer, I was a beast in a 5'9 frame. I quit growing at 14, though sometime after college I hit 5'10 with a 73.5″ reach.

I remember a 1994 when I was given the nickname Moose from my friends from the way I played tackle football. I was a "tackle-by-committee" player, reminescent when I was growing up and given the name Brick from our football games or later, Shaquille O'Bill from our basketball games.

Overall, it was all about having both the will to continue and a design in place. I looked back over my life and consider the failed relationships and the failed careers in comparison to my achievements, and I realized it was all about how close I stood at the corner of Heart and Purpose.

When we face a challenging stretch—and this could be anything, not just training/dietary for life is systematically organic as nothing exists in a vacuum—we are left with two options:

1. Stay where we are;
2. Move.

Now, this may seem fairly obvious, but how often do we just stay stuck. Like "Oh no, I'm morbidly obese! The only place I'm going is to the ice cream bar!" We don't change our circumstances, but remain...stagnant, amidst a whirlwind of destruction.

I've been guilty of it as well, even if ignoring is a type of stagnation.

It is hard to move. It's...

• Reaching critical mass to push against the inertia;
• Leaping out into the abyss of the unknown;
• Changing status quo;
• Modifying priorities and realigning focus;
• Establishing a new rhythm.

Do we work toward a future or avoid the present?

And while there is value in being in the present with a healthy perspective—not some kind of defeatist/escapist viewpoint—it is optimal to apply our current vantage point while looking what lies out before us, opportunities and challenges alike. If we remain where we are, can we have say we have a destiny?

Who is Future You?

I consciously made the decision to skip 3AM, 4AM—the whole bit out of frustration. But I never relayed that back to my subconscious for I woke up at 3:01AM with no alarm. And clearly, it wasn't due to an abundant amount of sleep: FitBit recorded I got a whopping 4 hours and 21 minutes.

I'm frustrated because in the past week, I've had my stationary bike go out followed now by my prized elliptical. I'm down to one last piece of cardio equipment: the treadmill. I will say it has opened up a lot of space in my gym, but I absolutely hate that my options have been reduced. Admittedly, I did lean heavily on the luxury of not thinking; I could just climb aboard the elliptical and knock out an hour with not a shot of pain to give me second thoughts.

In that context, I worry about a regimen that is heavy on treadmill usage. It's the direction that I eventually want to implement, but I'm not ready for it yet—or more specifically, my feet aren't ready for it yet. Even now, they're sore and I haven't EVEN done anything of consequence yet.

Thus, I've got to reassess my approach.

And while the loss of the equipment is frustrating, I just shake it off and advance.