Some of My Favorite Resources for Vegan Eating

Bookshow-not-to-die

How Not to Die: Discover the Food Scientifically Proven to Prevent and Reverse Disease, Michael Greger: Terrific guide to evidence-based nutrition. My number-one recommendation.

The Campbell Plan: The Simple Way to Lose Weight and Reverse Illness, Using The China Study’s Whole-Food, Plant-Based Diet, Thomas M. Campbell II: Based on the .research presented in The China Study

The China Study: The Most Comprehensive Study of Nutrition Ever Conducted and the Startling Implications for Diet Weight Loss and Long-term Health, T. Colin Campbell: Just what the subtitle implies—impressive science.

Skinny Bitch: A No-Nonsense, Tough-Love Guide for Savvy Girls Who Want to Stop Eating Crap and Start Looking Fabulous! Rory Friedman & Kim Barnouin: This was the book I read when I was ready to learn the truth. I immediately transitioned from vegetarian to vegan.

The Engine 2 Diet, Rip Esselstyn: Tasty recipes and interesting background.

The Food Revolution: How Your Diet Can Help Save Your Life and Our World, John Robbins: Written by a member of the Baskin-Robbins family, discussing his conversion away from animal products, including dairy.

The PlantPure Nation Cookbook, Kim Campbell: My favorite cookbook, lots of great recipes.

Thrive Books, Brendan Brazier: A whole series of books about plant-based eating and exercise.

Unprocessed: How to Achieve Vibrant Health and Your Ideal Weight, Abbie Jaye: Interesting story and cookbook with some creative solutions to minimizing processed food.

Vegan for Her: The Woman’s Guide to Being Healthy and Fit on a Plant-Based Diet, Ginny Messina & J. L. Fields: Woman-specific guide to nutrition

Vegan for Life: Everything You Need to Know to Be Healthy and Fit on a Plant-Based Diet, Jack Norris & Ginny Messina: Comprehensive guide written by dietitans.

Veganomicon: The Ultimate Vegan Cookbook, Isa Chandra Moskowitz & Terry Hope Romero: Classic vegan cookbook, one of the first I owned.

Vegan’s Daily Companion: 365 Days of Inspiration for Cooking, Eating and Living Compassionately, Colleen Patrick-Goudreau: Short daily readings to provoke thought and motivation for living the vegan lifestyle.

Websites

http://fatfreevegan.com/: Great resource for healthful vegan recipes.

http://www.joyfulvegan.com/: Inspiration and information, podcast.

http://nutritionfacts.org/: Source of endless information on evidence-based nutrition. Daily videos.

http://www.veganessentials.com/: Online store with a wide range of vegan products.

Other

Daily Dozen app: Fun way to track daily consumption of the most important foods for health. I use it every day.

Happy Cow app: Source for locating vegan restaurant options.

Is It Vegan? App: Allows you to determine if a product or ingredient is vegan.

Pushing the Pedals with Plant-Based Fuel

One of my great joys in life is Biking Across Kansas each year. I am honored to serve on the Board of Directors and to contribute my skills in a variety of ways to a cause that is dear to my heart. Another cause that is dear to my heart is living and eating compassionately. One of the ways that these two passions intersect is through an annual article that I write for the BAK newsletter to guide others who are vegan, vegetarian or may want to explore living, training and riding fueled by plants, instead of animals. Here is this year’s article, which will appear in the upcoming April BAK newsletter. I decided to publish it to my blog because it may provide useful guidance and inspiration for other athletes who are curious about eliminating the consumption of animals from their diets, but fear that it would be too difficult.

More and more people are choosing to nourish their bodies with plants instead of animal-based products. I have been vegan since 2008 and vegetarian since 1982. My 11-year-old son, who has been on BAK since I was pregnant with him, is vegan. We survive and thrive on BAK, and I am writing to share some of my tips for having a great, plant-powered trip across the state.

Self-sufficiency, resourcefulness and a positive attitude are key to nourishing our bodies with plants on BAK. I have found that the availability of vegan food has increased over the years, but it does vary from location to location and year to year. BAK staff communicate proactively with the lunch and overnight towns, encouraging them to include vegan options when they serve us. I happily provide some specific suggestions whenever those are welcomed by our host towns. Still, we ultimately have control over only our own actions. That is why I believe in taking responsibility for my own nutrition, and I encourage you to do the same.

Despite the proactive efforts of BAK staff, there may be times when we have to be a little more creative in order to get the vegan nutrition we need. This is possible without transporting our kitchen pantries across the state. These are some of my go-to BAK resources:

Local offerings: My first suggestion is that you explore the options presented by the local schools, youth groups, teams and churches. Because of the proactive communication by BAK staff, many of them have prepared a vegan selection, and some groups may offer entirely vegan meals. Highlights of recent years include an Asian meal in Elkhart, vegan kabobs in Oswego and terrific potato and salad bars in Anthony, Coldwater and Goessel. Pasta with marinara sauce is common, and vegan wraps or burritos have also made appearances in the last few years. Breakfasts have included tortillas with peanut butter and dried fruit, as well as oatmeal made with water or nondairy milk. Please make the local offerings your first choice when possible and thank the providers sincerely and profusely. BAK should be a win-win, with riders getting a terrific experience, while local communities reap economic and interpersonal benefits.

Local grocery stores: These can be valuable resources especially at lunch. Almost any fresh fruit is a good, refreshing option. Cut watermelon may be available in produce sections, and it is both hydrating and nourishing. Grape or cherry tomatoes and baby carrots can be dipped in hummus or guacamole, which can often be found in produce sections of grocery stores. Some stores have delis that may serve three-bean or other vegan salad options. Friends and I have shared whole-wheat tortillas, peanut butter and vegan refried beans on benches, pallets or curbs outside grocery stores. Ask the deli staff to open cans you purchase in the store. Grab a can of beans to supplement dinner at night, if the offerings are on the sparse side. Keep a small camping can opener in your luggage.

Local restaurants: I have been pleasantly surprised, at times, to find vegan dishes in local restaurants. This won’t always be the case, but there are usually some items that can be combined to make a decent meal—plain baked potatoes, salad and fruit, for example. Pizza is another option. Pizza crust is usually vegan, but ask to be sure. A loaded veggie pizza without cheese makes a tasty meal.

SAGs: BAK SAGs are the best! They work so hard to feed us well when we are out there on the road. Fruit, pretzels, pickles and peanut butter (great on bananas or apples, if the bread is not vegan) are frequently available. Please thank our generous SAG volunteers, who are spending their vacations in the wind, heat or rain to keep us energized.

Items to pack: In addition to making creative use of local resources, it is important to be prepared for situations when existing options are sparse. These are items that I take with me each year on BAK:

  • Shelf-stable vegan milk (almond, soy coconut, etc.)—I usually take an 8-pack of this. Sure, it adds some weight, but the load lightens a little each day, and it has a lot of valuable uses. Even if there are not full breakfasts that meet our needs, there may be suitable cereal and fruit. Pour some vegan milk on the cereal, add fruit, and you have a meal. I also use this to create tasty, energizing shakes. I don’t even care that the milk is not cold.
  • Vegan protein or smoothie mixes: Take a shaker cup and vegan protein separated into single servings and packed in individual, resealable bags, sealed in a larger zippered bag. This can make a good breakfast with some fruit. My favorite way to use vegan protein shakes is as a quick post-ride recovery drink. As soon as I find my bag, I grab my shaker cup, vegan protein and vegan milk and mix up a glycogen-replenishing drink. It is important (not just for vegans) to refuel within 45 minutes after prolonged and/or strenuous exercise, and this is a convenient way to do it.
  • Dried fruit, nuts & seeds: I usually pack a large, zippered bag of dates and another one of nuts and seeds. Figs, raisins, goji berries or dried cranberries are other options. I place a snack-sized bag of these items in my saddle bag to supplement lunch or SAG food when needed. They pack and store well and provide concentrated energy in small packages.
  • Nutritional yeast: A small bag or repurposed plastic spice bottle makes this a convenient source of both vitamin B12 and flavor. It works as a topping for baked potatoes, when vegan margarine or nourishing toppings like vegan chili, beans or broccoli are not available. It can also add interest to greens and other salad veggies if there is no vegan dressing and give a boost to pasta with marinara sauce.
  • Single-serving packs of almond or peanut butter: This is great on fresh fruit, dates or vegan toast, and the packs can even be taken along on the bike to supplement lunch fare.
  • Gels or bars: Personally, I like energy gels on the bike. Some people prefer to carry bars, blocks or whole-food options, like dates, in their jersey pockets. Energy bars can be useful breakfast or recovery alternatives. Bicycle Pedaler generally offers vegan versions of gels and bars if you need to replenish your stash during the week.

By approaching BAK with a sense of adventure and by taking responsibility for your own nutrition, it is entirely possible to pedal (strongly and happily) across the state while remaining true to your ethical and health principles.

A Bigger Yes

Lately, one of my favorite Stephen Covey quotes has been on my mind. In his terrific book The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People, he said, “You have to decide what your highest priorities are and have the courage—pleasantly, smilingly, nonapologetically, to say ‘no’ to other things. And the way you do that is by having a bigger ‘yes’ burning inside.”

The concept of a bigger yes translates for me to freedom earned through introspection to discover what really matters, awareness to recognize when something may jeopardize our priorities, focus to keep our yes in the front of our minds and self-discipline to say “no” to things that threaten what matters most.

I am at my most empowered when I honor my bigger yes.

Recently, the arena where a bigger yes has been most prominent is nutrition. For most of my life, I have lived a bigger yes when it comes to food. Because of my desire to live compassionately and my commitment to justice for all living beings, I have been vegetarian since 1982 and vegan since 2008. This was easy for me. The bigger yes was compassion. Ceasing my consumption of meat as a 12 year old required some creative maneuvering within my family, but it did not require willpower or sacrifice. I was clear that I cared more for animals than I did for eating their flesh.

For so many years, I wanted to believe that being vegetarian was enough to satisfy my ethics. I allowed myself to linger in blissful ignorance for too long after better information was readily available. It was easier not to know. Until it wasn’t. For a long time, I had told myself that chickens didn’t suffer for us to eat eggs and that milking relieved the cows of their burdens. Deep down, I feared that I was lying to myself in my ignorance. Finally, compassion and commitment to my ethics became a bigger yes than convenience. As soon as I allowed myself to learn the truth, I became vegan. Sure, it requires asking more questions and being a bit more resourceful, but the inner peace of prioritizing my bigger yes makes any inconvenience well worth it.

More recently, the nutritional bigger yes (coupled with my commitment to my ethics) is my long-term health. Toward that end, I have incorporated Dr. Michael Greger’s Daily Dozen app (See this post.) into my everyday life. That part was easy. It just meant some small modifications to my daily habits—adding beans to my morning smoothie to get a head start on my three servings; ensuring that I eat at least two servings of greens, plus a serving of cruciferous vegetables and including an eighth of a teaspoon of turmeric into my smoothies. These changes just meant eating even more of nature’s goodness. They weren’t difficult.

More challenging was recognizing that I needed to give up some of my (healthful!) extras in order truly to optimize my health and fitness and avoid gaining weight. After reading How Not to Die, by Dr. Greger, I became serious about making my long-term health and well-being my bigger yes, even more clearly and more boldly than it previously had been.

I have recognized in the past that I have had an addiction of sorts to dark chocolate and energy bars. During times of stress and anxiety, I have used these and other foods for comfort or security. Reading and internalizing Dr. Greger’s evidence-based, whole-food message, I recognized that my relationship to my comfort foods didn’t fit all that well with my nutritional objectives because of the added sugar and the processed nature of those products. Although the energy bars I ate were vegan and relatively healthful, my bigger yes is to maximize whole foods in my diet. So, I stopped a nearly daily habit of both the bars and the chocolate on January 1, when I started using the Daily Dozen app. (The date was coincidental—the day I learned about it—not by design.) In addition to added oil, which I had already largely eliminated, I also decided to avoid added sugar, even agave nectar and maple syrup, and to pay closer attention to the amount of sodium I consumed. Then, I increased my intake of some of the most healthful foods on the planet—dark, leafy greens; flax; beans and whole grains—but I kept a lot of my other little comforts.

They were nutritious additions—bonus foods—to the Daily Dozen. My son had broken our scale, so I focused on how great I felt and enjoyed the knowledge that I was putting good food into by body, without worrying about my weight. Several weeks into this cycle, I went to the doctor for an annual check-up. Stepping on the scale, I realized that even this good stuff was causing me to gain weight that would not maximize my cycling performance or optimize my long-term health.

Once again, it was time to acknowledge and honor a bigger yes. I decided to treat the Daily Dozen goals not as minimums, but as loose limits. By and large, I am consuming only the Daily Dozen now. This is not restrictive! There are so many wonderful, nourishing whole-food options. I am not automatically putting cacao nibs in with my nuts, eating nuts or nut butter several times a day or mixing vegan yogurt into my berries every single day. I still eat these things—nuts are part of the Daily Dozen—but I am eating just enough servings to meet the Daily Dozen goals, and cacao and vegan yogurt (one of the only processed foods in which I sometimes indulge) are truly occasional now. This allows me to honor my bigger yes.

I don’t feel deprived at all. Instead, I feel satisfied and peaceful because I am clear about what my priorities are, and I am living them. These are my comforts now.

Cycling is a bigger yes for me, too. It would be so easy to sleep in on a summer Saturday morning, but if I did, I might not get my long ride. The ride is a bigger yes than the leisurely start to the day. I know that I will feel better and happier with myself if I get up early to ride than if I don’t. Last Friday, I got up at 3 a.m. to take my mom for a medical procedure. Happily, it went well, and I was able to get her home by 1 p.m., avoiding the overnight hospital stay we had expected. When I got her settled at home, she suggested that I take a nap and then go for a bike ride (beautiful day in February!) before my son got out of school. I said, “I am going to go for a bike ride and then maybe take a nap because cycling is a higher priority.” It is not that sleep is not important; it just means that I had to make a choice, and that choice was to honor my bigger yes.

The bottom line is that there is only so much that fits into any one life. We have to make choices. When we say “yes” to one choice, it means that we are saying “no” to another. Conversely, saying “no” makes room for a “yes.” The key is being devoted to a bigger yes, so that the noisy distractions can’t overshadow it. I view this as freedom.

My biggest tormentors are my own feelings—anxiety, stress, disappointment, shame, disgust and guilt. I have found that one way of reducing the power these tormentors have over me is to honor my bigger yes in every situation. When I do that, I am free from disappointment in myself, as well as its previously mentioned conspirators. The key is to be self-aware enough to recognize the bigger yes. These questions may help us discover and honor our priorities:

  • What matters most to me in life?
  • What are my core, defining values for which I want to be known?
  • What do I most want in this situation?
  • What actions will help me to achieve my most important goals?
  • Which choice will bring me the most peace?
  • Where do I need to say “no” in order to make room for my bigger yes?

Reflection and journaling can assist in clarifying the answers to these questions. Then we must commit to the bigger yes. We must decide that we are worth the courage, effort, sacrifice or social backlash that may come with the actions necessary to honor our bigger yes.

As Johann Wolfgang von Goethe said in one of my all-time favorite quotes, “Things which matter most must never be at the mercy of things which matter least.” The bigger yes helps us hold on to what is most important and to resist the pull of distractions. I have often said that discipline is the reward for making a tougher choice, one that honors a bigger yes. With discipline comes freedom, which brings us closer to inner peace. The more I nurture my bigger yes, the freer and more peaceful I feel inside. That freedom is worth more to me than any taste, convenience, nap or social approval ever could be. The bigger yes often requires making the unconventional choice. That is okay. I choose integrity over convention any day. People don’t always understand or appreciate the choices we make to honor our bigger yes, but I have to live with myself one hundred percent of the time, so I choose to direct my behavior internally. As Covey said, it takes courage to do that, but the rewards are great.

Lives and Lifelines

As it often does when I am moving in some way, my mind wandered when I was walking home from my son’s basketball game a couple weeks ago. I don’t recall the specific stream of consciousness that led me to the thought that it often seems like I have lived several different lives. As that thought occurred to me, I wondered if I was the only one who often feels that way and if most people experience life as one coherent path.

I find that it is often easier not to allow my thoughts to linger too long on past phases of life. Pain, disappointment, shame and regret stain some of those memories. There is happiness, too, but when I think about life this way—in compartmentalized lives—the negative emotions are the ones that push my thoughts quickly from one to the next.

Anatole France explained this phenomenon well. “All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another.”

Reading his words, I realized that at least some other people must feel the same way.

For me, the melancholy is not nostalgia or wanting to “go back” to some previous stage of life, although there may be certain individuals or feelings that I miss.

It is more that I have needed to let go of a phase—to die to one life—in order to move into the next.  Frequently, the past lives that I tend to push out of my mind are those that ended with at least some degree of involuntariness—deaths of animals and humans I loved, disappointments in jobs, hard decisions that had to be made because of life circumstances.

Sometimes I have died so completely to a life that, as far as I know, people who have more recently come into my life have no knowledge of something that once may have been a huge aspect of my identity or fact of my life. Often, that is because I want it that way. It is easier than getting into details of the past and less painful than bringing up a topic that still has a lot of heartache around it.

I wonder—does this make me less than honest? Or does it mean that I am living in the present? Is it healthy to die to the past lives, or is it just a way of repressing pain and other negative feelings? Maybe it is a little bit of all these things, and the fact is that we are so overloaded with information in the present that there is rarely room for ventures back in time.

There is a ritual in the Unitarian Universalist tradition (and some others) called the Burning Bowl Ceremony. It is usually done at the beginning of a new year, but my son and I performed our own ceremony at the 2015 winter solstice. In a Burning Bowl ceremony, people write down things they would like to leave behind, place them in a bowl and burn them as a symbolic release of habits, relationships, ideas, problems, worries and other things that may be dragging them down. I certainly haven’t done that for every phase in my life, but in our 2015 ceremony, I included generic categories of shame and regret because I had felt myself too often dwelling there in the past year. It felt cleansing and has been largely effective.

Maybe that is why I am noticing the phenomenon described by Anatole France more acutely than I have in the past. Maybe the release of certain “lives” is more complete and conscious than it has been in the past.

I think it is sometimes necessary to shed some excess baggage in order to move forward to the next phase. Maybe this is intrapersonal evolution, although not all changes feel that way in the moment. Perhaps they are all part of the spiritual, emotional and intellectual growth that is part of gaining wisdom, although it sometimes feels more like cynicism, I notice.

In any case, France’s words resonated with me and validated the ideas that had been going through my head.

I am reminded of Maya Angelou’s words from Wouldn’t Take Nothing for My Journey Now:

“Each of us has the right and the responsibility to assess the roads which lie ahead, and those over which we have traveled, and if the future road looms ominous or unpromising, and the roads back uninviting, then we need to gather our resolve and, carrying only the necessary baggage, step off that road into another direction. If the new choice is also unpalatable, without embarrassment, we must be ready to change that as well.”

Maybe that is what it is all about—having the resilience to move with some grace from one phase of life to the next, and the only way to do that is to die to one life, to put down the baggage that adds unnecessary weight.

Maybe those lives have already done their work to shape us. I believe we retain the growth. Even if our minds don’t go back, the changes that those lives and even the loss of those lives effected in us are part of us now and forever, part of that journey that Maya Angelou recognized as an indelible aspect of her identity.

Writing about this does induce—or maybe arise from—a sense of melancholy. Again, it is not nostalgia, not a desire to return, but a recognition of having come through an important leg of the lifelong journey—like turning out of a long stretch of headwind on the bike. It may have worn us out in the short term, but in the long run, we will grow from it.

Just as important as moving forward on our journeys without carrying undue burdens from the past are the people, activities and values that have seen us through many or all of the phases of our lives. Those are the threads that connect all the different lives—the ones that have died, the one we are currently living and the ones that we will live in the future. They are the constants, integral to our identities.

Cycling has been a constant for me. Although I didn’t start cycling seriously and passionately until I was 28, the avocation became so much more and attached itself to my personal value system. The attachment has grown tighter—indeed has been a lifeline—as I have lost dogs, people, career paths, identities, dreams. I am grateful that, while I can let go of what weighs me down, I have aspects of my life that allow me to continue to find my way and remember who I am at my core as I push forward.

I think France and Angelou understood that the journey is all about learning what we need to learn in a phase of life, dying to it when circumstances dictate and holding tightly to the threads that form the lifeline to connect one life to the next. Recognizing that the lifeline is there even alleviates some of the melancholy associated with the serial dying that we must do in order to keep on living.

My 3 R’s

According to Wikipedia, the concept of the “3 R’s” as the foundation of a solid education probably originated in a 1795 speech by Sir William Curtis. The 3 R’s generally refer to “reading, ‘riting and ‘rithmetic,” although arithmetic may have been “reckoning” in the past, as that was the term commonly used for math during the era when the catchphrase was popularized. The mnemonic has been borrowed by a number of other sectors outside of education, such as the environmental movement’s familiar 3 R’s of solid waste: Reduce, Reuse, Recycle.

While on a bike ride a while back, it occurred to me that I have my own personal 3 R’s: Reading, ‘riting and Riding (or I could call them my 3 B’s: Bikes, Books and Blogging—with “Blogging” standing in for writing, in general). I think all of us need to determine those things that are foundational for us, those things that are central to our identities and to how we navigate the world. There may be more or fewer than three, and they may not lend themselves to such neat alliteration, but we all have activities without which we would be very different people. I think these are passions, but also habits—those things we regularly do that shape our days and our thoughts.

It takes time to determine what these key activities are, and they may change over time as we grow with life experience. Recognizing the importance of our 3R equivalents is valuable because doing so allows us the opportunity to emphasize them in our lives, enabling them to anchor us and advance our evolution.

I have loved to read since I was very young, and I have always read a lot. After years of reading primarily textbooks, journal articles and other assigned works, I can still remember the amazing feeling, after completing my first Master’s degree, when I realized suddenly, “I can read whatever I want!” Once I adjusted to that freedom, I happily undertook a fervent and intentional lifelong learning journey, fueled primarily through reading nonfiction books across a wide range of genres.

When my brother gave me a Kindle for Christmas several years ago, I wasn’t sure if it would appeal to me because I was an avid user of the public library. Now, Kindle has become my primary reading medium. The downside is that I spend more money on books because I have generally found library Kindle offerings to differ from my preferences. The convenience offered by Kindle has made the cost worthwhile for me. Instead of struggling to find time in my full schedule to get to the library, now, when I learn about a book I want to read, I can have it on my electronic book shelf within a minute. When I travel, I can easily take multiple books with me. I always have my Kindle in my bag when I leave the house. Reading calms me and prevents my mind from going places I don’t want it to go. It allows me to learn about virtually any subject. It helps me grow personally and develop professionally. Reading generates ideas within me that I can then process through my other two R’s.

I have loved to write since my time in Catholic schools. Sr. Boniface introduced me to diagramming sentences in the fourth grade, spawning an enduring passion for grammar and language and a recognition of the power in understanding how to structure sentences and arrange them in compelling ways. I started college as an English major because I loved English in high school and felt relatively competent in my use of language. Although my major changed, my love for writing didn’t. I have always been grateful for my strong early foundation in writing skills.

My relationship with writing has fluctuated throughout adulthood. Sometimes, I have written only for myself, in my journal. Writing was one of the aspects of my undergraduate and graduate programs that I most enjoyed. I have often felt that I am able to articulate my ideas more capably in writing than in conversation. The urge to do something more with writing has nagged me sporadically, sometimes strongly. For years, despite bursts of ambition, I tucked away my desire to expose my writing to scrutiny from a broader audience than the academic, professional and voluntary settings in which I had written. Finally, late last summer, the pull became strong enough that I was moved to start this blog. It felt like a risk to put my writing out there and make it public, but it also felt like something I needed to do. Taking steps to expand my writing gives me hope beyond feelings of constraint and pushes me to pursue a larger vision.

And then there is riding, my third (but certainly not tertiary) R. Before there was cycling, there was running and other exercise for me, but cycling has been my true athletic passion for many years now. I am still awed by the distance that can be covered on a bike. My bike is the place where what I read is often masticated, pedal stroke by pedal stroke, and digested into what I write. My time on the bike clarifies my ideas about the things I am reading, the stressors I am facing or the puzzles I am pondering. Several of my blog posts have been written largely in my head, while on my bike. The same is true for previous presentations and strategic plans.

Of course, I love the physical challenge and benefits of cycling, but the mental and emotional boosts are what make it so foundational for me. Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi introduced the concept of flow. “The best moments in our lives are not the passive, receptive, relaxing times. . . .  The best moments usually occur if a person’s body or mind is stretched to its limits in a voluntary effort to accomplish something difficult and worthwhile.” I have certainly found this to be true. My thinking is so much clearer, and I feel energized for hours after a ride where I have pushed hard.

Other people, things, projects and work are important to me, but these 3 R’s center and focus me, help me regain equilibrium when I am thrown off balance by life and help me remember who I am.

As I have worked on this blog over the last four months, I have realized that, while cycling was and remains, the primary inspiration for this blog, there are other aspects of my life that intersect with my time on the bike to round out the bigger picture of the story I want to convey. So, for 2016, I have updated my blog purpose to: celebrate my passion for cycling and books, while sharing the lessons I learn and the insight I glean through the intersection of cycling, reading and writing in my life. My 3 R’s.

What are those things that are foundational for you? Central to who you are and how you process life? While yours are likely different than mine, I believe we all have them, and they are vital keys to a rich life. Paying attention to the things that make us feel most alive and allow us to find Csikszentmihalyi’s flow enables us to reap rich rewards and further our personal evolution.

A Thanksgiving Reflection–Belated

As I pedaled into a fierce south wind on the day before Thanksgiving, I thought about how fortunate I was to be out there. It couldn’t be mistaken for a fabulous cycling day. The wind was gusting to around 40 mph, and the sky was dreary, except for the brief periods when the sun peeked out between the clouds. However, I was off work and riding in shorts and a windbreaker in late November in Kansas. I was fortunate indeed! (This would quickly be proven, as an ice storm moved into the area Thanksgiving night, causing a power outage and an extended internet outage, delaying the publication of this post by several days.)

 

Beyond being graced with the opportunity to ride on any specific day, I am grateful for the many gifts that cycling has introduced into my life.

 

Although I was a runner and avid exerciser when I met my husband in 1998, Kenny introduced me to the joys and challenges of road cycling. Of everything he has given to me over the years, that is one of the gifts I most treasure. We rarely cycle together, since our son was born 11 years ago, but we are still a cycling family and have been fortunate to share the cycling life with Logan.

 

My life is richer for my connection to the cycling community—both those cyclists I know and those I don’t, but with whom I share a common bond. Even for introverts like me, there is value in the sense of belonging that accompanies being part of a community. I feel a kinship with the random cyclists with whom I exchange waves or greetings as we pass on the road. I recognize myself in the cyclists whose stories I read in books or magazines. I feel an understanding even with Tour de France competitors and other cyclists who ride professionally, living lives very different from my own. Whatever level our cycling abilities, those of us who ride share a connection.

 

Cycling seems an ideal sport for introverts. Not only does it afford the opportunity to get lost in my head, sometimes for hours, as introverts feel a strong pull to do, but it allows us to be “alone,” at times, even when we are riding with others. Cycling conditions often dictate “social” and “alone” time on the bike. When riding with others in a tight paceline and pushing into a stiff headwind, circumstances do not lend themselves to conversation. We have to be able to read and respond to our companions’ body language and change of body or bike position, speed, etc., but we are essentially alone in our heads, because of the wind noise and the workout intensity. For me, it is the perfect combination of socializing and reenergizing in cerebral solitude.

 

Since the vast majority of my training time is solo, cycling is one of my best escapes from the onslaught of noise and the pressure of being “on” that comes with being around people in most settings. My introvert nature craves these respites and refuels through this time for processing, thinking, problem solving and generating mental health and happiness.

 

Biking Across Kansas (BAK) has enriched my life in innumerable ways—activity, adventure, vacation, community, movement, accomplishment, mission and more. BAK friendships form and deepen over years of creating common memories, both sweet and savage, in the Kansas wind and elements. My BAK friends and I have supported each other both on paved roads and on the virtual roads of life. We have seen each other at our grimiest and most real. These people are true gifts of cycling.

 

Some of cycling’s gifts are only apparent on the subjective level. I have read that passions are “those things you can’t not do.” Cycling falls into this category for me. I am a better person because I ride. I do my best thinking on the bike, and I have found the answers to many of my most grueling questions while cycling. I have written entire presentations in my head on long bike rides. I have developed solutions to taxing work problems while I pedaled. I have processed concepts from books that I have read, and I have been inspired to write—even stopping in small towns along my route to borrow a pen and jot down an idea or to capture my thoughts in my phone.

 

We all need activities that help us live more richly, stretch and learn and grow. Certainly, there are other things I do and other groups to which I belong that also enrich my life, but as I rode last Wednesday, I was energized by gratitude for the gift that cycling is in my life.

Pedaling and Pondering: Résumé Virtues and Eulogy Virtues

Immediately prior to setting out on a late afternoon bike ride yesterday, I started reading The Road to Character, by David Brooks. Within the first sentence, I was intrigued by a concept he presented: Résumé Virtues differentiated from Eulogy Virtues. Brooks defines résumé virtues as “the skills that you bring to the job market and that contribute to external success.” He describes eulogy virtues less concretely as “the virtues that get talked about at your funeral, the ones that exist at the core of your being—whether you are kind, brave, honest or faithful; what kind of relationships you formed.”

Reading those words when I did, right before I got on the bike, was fortuitous, because I was excited to ponder the contrast and connections between the two types of virtues, and I do my best thinking on the bike.

How are these two types of virtues different? Are both categories even “virtues”? How are they linked to each other? My mind raced with these questions as I pedaled north out of town and for the next 15 chilly miles.

I think of my résumé virtues as achievements and selling points—qualities that might be evident from perusing my résumé, like degrees, grades, breadth of experience, writing ability and attention to detail. These points tell only a very superficial story about who I am, about who any of us is.

Many personal development authors and speakers recommend considering what we would want to be said in our eulogy as a guide for managing life’s choices. I have thought about this in the past, but contemplating the juxtaposition of résumé and eulogy virtues carried this idea a step further for me.

On my bike, I decided that eulogy virtues, unlike tangible selling points, tell the deeper story. It seems to me that they consist of both our strengths and our values. While résumé virtues are fairly concrete, eulogy virtues are more elusive and strike me as somewhat aspirational.

My core values are compassion, integrity, excellence and fitness. I aspire to “own” these as lived virtues, as qualities of character that someone might mention in my eulogy. But, can I claim them as virtues, when they are subjective and qualitative? Those characteristics that I consider my strengths serve as tools for living my values, and I believe that I have a responsibility to employ them to the best of my ability in the service of a life that reflects what is most meaningful to me. But, how do I know if I have achieved this? Unlike a diploma that is objective evidence of completing the requirements for a degree, eulogy virtues can only be felt—by the possessor of those virtues and by the witnesses to those virtues.

It occurred to me on the bike that résumé and eulogy virtues are intimately connected. For instance, in my own case, my commitment to excellence, my love of learning and my perseverance allowed me to accomplish academic goals. So, values and strengths—eulogy virtues—led to résumé virtues. In a different kind of relationship, I believe that some of my eulogy virtues—namely, integrity and honesty—have contributed to what could be interpreted (sometimes by myself) as deficits of my résumé. My dedication to those principles and to resonance in my own heart has led me down a path that has possibly undervalued upward mobility in career status and income.

So, which matters more—résumé virtues or eulogy virtues? Can they exist independently of each other? I think the answers to both those questions depend on the person. Ultimately, I believe I have emphasized eulogy virtues, although those have influenced my résumé virtues. Someone else may have emphasized résumé virtues and amassed more external success in doing so. Even without a conscious emphasis, however, I think that individual’s eulogy virtues will still have guided her or him toward the path of his/her résumé virtues. The difference, I think, is that someone who emphasizes résumé virtues may be less aware of, and/or concerned with, eulogy virtues. Living the introspective life that I do, I can’t put myself in those shoes. So, I can’t know which life is richer, happier or more meaningful. I can only surmise that a person emphasizing eulogy virtues, as I believe I do, makes a more conscious (not necessarily better, just more conscious) choice about what virtues he/she will live, while a person who has focused on achieving résumé virtues, may have her/his eulogy virtues identified posthumously by others. A eulogist who witnesses that person’s résumé virtues may discern and then assert that the individual embodied commitment, drive, determination and diligence, for example. I wonder if that person would have said the same things about her/himself.

Ultimately, I cannot directly control what is said in my eulogy, and I am honestly less concerned about what someone else chooses to say than what I can say about myself when I examine my own life. I think both résumé virtues and eulogy virtues can be indicators of valuable contributions in the world. Maybe I am just looking for consolation and justification of perceived weaknesses when I declare that eulogy virtues matter more to me. Or maybe seeking that justification is actually evidence that the résumé virtues are more important to me than I openly acknowledge.

I did not end my bike ride with tidy, clear answers about eulogy and résumé virtues, but I did enjoy the time to think, and I hope that these concepts will continue to crystallize for me because I think both types of virtues comprise important aspects of a whole person. I love it when books make me think and when cycling provides me with the opportunity to do so!

Biking in the Radiant Light

I recently finished three months of telephone coaching with Tejashree Chawla (11Tejashree@gmail.com), a co-active coach and workshop facilitator, whom I met several years ago when she lived in Wichita for a short time. We have stayed connected since she moved back to California, and I recently accepted her invitation for coaching. I tend to be very introspective, have kept journals for years, read nonfiction—including a lot of personal development books—voraciously and maintain several reflective practices. When Tejashree invited me to participate in coaching, I did not have a specific goal or need in mind, but decided to focus on finding more tools for managing stress because I feel like I struggle with that more than ever.

Having completed the coaching, I am still not consistently managing stress effectively, but I did experience several benefits and insights, which I want to share here.

A major tool that Tejashree uses is shifting perspectives. This reminds me of the concept of reframing (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cognitive_reframing), which I have used both personally and professionally for many years. I struggle with sustaining my perspective shifts when I feel bogged down with worry or overwhelmed with responsibilities. However, if I can remind myself of my desired perspective frequently enough, it does help. When I spoke with Tejashree last Thursday, I had been carrying around a great deal of anxiety and was constantly feeling the nervousness in my stomach. We explored several ways to alleviate the heaviness of that feeling, but the one that was most helpful was her invitation to adopt a “Biking-in-the-Radiant-Light” perspective. I generally feel free, strong, powerful and happy when I am on my bike. When Tejashree asked me to describe a visual or visceral association with assuming the biking perspective, I described it as one of rising power, in the form of light, from my stomach. It then radiated into my limbs and throughout my body. I felt energized, confident and capable. When I stop to imagine myself on my bike, I feel the anxiety lightening, and I feel happier and freer. Although I struggle to maintain the perspective constantly, it does serve as an effective mental stop sign when the anxiety starts to take over.

In mid-August Tejashree and I discussed the sense of foreboding that comes upon me around the time school starts every year. Swimming pools close, and I know that cold, dark weather is coming and will linger for months and months. I don’t want to let the coming winter usurp my remaining weeks of summer weather. Yet, I struggle. I had already decided that I really must maintain some level of winter cycling this year, and not have all bike training relegated to the indoor trainer. Tejashree encouraged me to consider more ways to ward off the cold-weather doldrums. One of the ways I did this was to attach meaning to living in Kansas. For example, I acknowledged that one of the prices I pay for living in a place with so many wonderful, open, quiet roads for cycling is dealing with winter.

I think the most helpful contribution Tejashree made to my personal exploration during our work together was her ability to listen to what I was saying and then articulate her interpretation of it. On one occasion, her expression captured a concept that I had been trying to form fully in my mind. I knew the feeling, but hadn’t been able to find the right words to express it. Tejashree said something that felt just right. I don’t think she realized at the time how significant that single sentence was for me, but it began to percolate in my mind and, within several days, had morphed into a personal mantra that brings me hope and encouragement, peace and empowerment.

The phone is my least favorite mode of communication. I usually cringe when any phone for which I am responsible for answering rings, and I try to use any other medium first. So, I was not at all sure that thirty minutes twice a month for three months on the phone was going to appeal to me. While my feelings toward the phone have not changed, I did find our phone conversations to be useful and meaningful. On our last call, I told Tejashree that it has been nice to have a place, other than my journal, in which to explore ideas and thoughts around personal development. I have been feeling rather constrained because of a very tight schedule. The temporal constraints create mental constraints, and then I create social constraints, trying to protect precious minutes to myself. My coaching calls were short breaks in a busy life where I could bounce ideas off someone who genuinely listened and who posed challenges and inquiries designed to nurture my personal growth.

I feel that I have grown through our calls, and my decision to launch this blog at the time that I did was influenced by a challenge that Tejashree posed. So, I will work to maintain, or at least consistently revisit, the “Biking-in-the-Radiant-Light” perspective—a gift both of my cycling life and of my work with Tejashree. If you are intrigued by my coaching experience, I encourage you to contact Tejashree and find out if you too might benefit from some time dedicated to yourself and your growth.

Here is her contact information:

Tejashree Chawla, MA, MS

Listening for your brilliance & championing forward action!

Co-Active Coach; Workshop Facilitator

PH: 310-514-7137, Email: 11Tejashree@gmail.com

It’s Just Wind

On a hot, windy June afternoon in Holton, Kansas in 2002, I encountered my friend David Blair walking among the unloaded bags at our last overnight school on the annual Biking Across Kansas (BAK) tour. Wind is not uncommon in Kansas, but the 2002 tour had been extraordinarily windy, and I was coming down with a cold after seven days of battling the wind. We greeted each other and compared notes from our ride that day. I was sick of being beaten up by the wind all week, and I proceeded to have a mini-tantrum and complain about the wind. David listened quietly and then shrugged and said, gently and matter-of-factly, “It’s just wind.”

Something about the way he said it really struck a chord with me. It was such a simple, casual statement, but it felt profound and full of truth. In an instant, I knew he was right. I was on my fourth BAK, a ride that I loved. It occurred to me that, if all life’s problems were as simple as fighting wind for 60 miles or so on a ride that I had chosen to take, then I would be very fortunate.

I love quotes and have several volumes of formerly blank books filled with them. David’s words went into my then-current volume, and I began to view life through a different lens. I realized that, not only could I acknowledge how minor an issue a windy bike ride really was in the big picture, but I could choose to see the rest of life’s challenges as “wind” and strive to take them in stride, just as David had taught me to do with the Kansas wind.

That was 13 years ago, but I still remind myself often, when dealing with tough issues, that, in the big picture, most of my challenges are “wind.” Living in Kansas, there is no shortage of wind on the bike. Sometimes I am fighting it head-on, and it takes tremendous effort. It can even feel like I am being pushed backwards at times. Other times, it is a crosswind that threatens to buck me into traffic or push me off the road. Times like these, it can be exhausting to hold my line. My hands and arms get worn out from the effort of staying upright in the vicious crosswind. It can be treacherous at times. My best bet for handling it is to stay calm, use caution and determine the best strategy for staying safe. Sometimes that is tucking low and trying to minimize my contact with the wind. If I am in the hills, I often feel safer and steadier if I sit up and take more of the crosswind, but slow my descent. I am not a fearless descender under any conditions, especially in squirrelly crosswind, but staying calm and reading the conditions allow me to respond as effectively and safely as possible.

These experiences and techniques for managing the wind on my bike serve as informative metaphors for handling what life throws at me. David’s response to my complaining was a wake-up call, and it has contributed to my growth as both a cyclist and a human. It was the beginning of my recognition of the ways that cycling’s lessons could apply to the bigger picture of my life. Cycling became more than a physical challenge; it became a foundation for growth and a source of deep joy. Not every moment on the bike is bliss, but I am now grateful for all of them and for the countless gifts they give me. I am stronger both on and off the bike because I have learned to accept the wind for what it is and deal with it calmly and confidently.