An Interview with joeblack

I love interviews. Always have. I love the tough questions, the banter, the back and forth. I love the insight that comes from answering questions that you didn’t see coming.

In the 32+ years I’ve been writing this column, I’ve actually used this space to have a couple of interviews. I’m going to do that again today. But with myself in both roles. Just a fun little bit of creative thinking. So here goes.

What did you have for breakfast today?

Really? That’s the best you can do? Same as always. Scrambled eggs. Almond flour pancakes with maple syrup. Chocolate almond milk. If it were Sunday, it would include Benton’s bacon. Always.

So what does 65 feel like? 

I don’t know. I’m still trying to figure it out. I know that it sure doesn’t feel like I thought 65 would feel like. 

Mountain or beach?

Do I have to decide? I guess it would have to be the mountains but I don’t want to live in a world that doesn’t have beaches.

What are some of your fondest memories?

Growing up in a place where I could get up on a summer morning, hop on my bike, and not be expected home until dinner time. Boy Scouts. Getting married. Finding my career. Having kids. Watching those kids grow up. Grandkids. And then there was high school football.  One of the best things I've ever done.  Playing with kids that I grew up with.  Coming together as a team.  Winning a championship. 

Did you learn anything from that?

Oh yeah. I learned that if you work hard at something, you can achieve it. I learned the value of being physically and mentally prepared so that you can take on anything. I learned the joy of physical exertion and the satisfaction of putting everything you have into something bigger than yourself.

What’s the biggest mistake you ever made?

I don’t really agonize over mistakes I’ve made. I actually embrace most of them. Now don’t get me wrong-I’ve made plenty of mistakes. Lots, actually.  (Some I’ll never admit.) But the person that I am today is in large part because of those mistakes. Most of the time I learned from those mistakes and even when I didn’t, they’re still responsible for helping me become who I am. And I’m pretty OK with that. 

But surely you would change something about your life. 

Oh for sure. The people I’ve hurt. I wish I hadn’t done that. Some opportunities I’ve missed. I wish I had become kinder and gentler earlier in my life. I wish I had been a better husband and father. I was too busy trying to figure out who I was back then. I wish I had learned to leave my comfort zone behind a long time ago. 

So what’s next for you?

More adventures. More getting outside that comfort zone. More time with my wife. Ride a bike.  I want to teach my grandchildren how to play tennis. And how to love unconditionally.

When are you going to retire?

I get that question about ten times a day. I’m not retiring any time soon. I’m having too much fun. 

Living Life Robustly

I got a lot of comments about last week’s column.  Most people were a bit amazed that a man of my age was still doing things like that—riding a mountain bike down steep hills over rocks and roots and traveling around the country doing things outside my comfort zone.  Others just thought I was crazy. 

The first group shouldn’t have been amazed—there were 10 year old kids passing me down the gnarliest hills. And lots of people travel a lot more than I do. The second group…maybe you’re right.  Ask my wife.

So how did I get to this point in life?  To a point where I still pursue a life of vigor and adventure?  I have no idea.  I’ve talked about my dad’s heart problems but I don’t think that is it.  I know that I watched my friend Bo Henry turn his health around at 65, deciding to defy those birthdays and past health problems and live life to its fullest.  He’s almost 90 now and still pretty darn vigorous. 

I look around at people my age and a lot of them are already old.  They act old.  Their pursuits are passive.  Too many friends have those zipper lines on their chest where they’ve had their heart fixed.  I’ve got too many friends that look like they’re just waiting for the end.  Biding their time.

That sure ain’t me.  I get up every morning and make conscious decisions about what I’m going to do that day to remain healthy and able to continue a robust life. 

We know that to keep our mind sharp, we’ve got to continue to keep working it, keep learning new things.  Read books that make us think.   I still want to learn to speak Spanish.  Or French.  I can’t decide. 

I want to paint more, to put colors and meaning on a piece of canvas.  I’ve played several instruments in my life so I might do that again.  Why?  Because I can.  And we know that pursuing those things that stimulate us, that make us live vibrantly, keep us younger. 

Too many people get to a certain age and decide that it is time to slow down.  I call it “rocking chair time.”  That’s not for me.

 I’ve been accused of doing things that a “man my age” has no business doing.  Who made that rule?  Who said that when we get to a certain age, that there were certain activities that are off-limits?  That we have to retire from our job at a certain age?

The President of the United States is 72 years old.  One of the guys I ride bikes with is 68 and winning national championships.  Caroline Haynes is a world class tennis player at 81.

On the other end of the spectrum, two young physical therapists came to me several years ago asking for advice about leadership opportunities in our profession.  They had already been told that they were too young.  Well, those two young PT’s, Josh D’Angelo and Efosa Guobadia didn’t accept that. 

First, they started a campaign called PT Day of Service that quickly went global.  And then they opened a physical therapy clinic in Guatemala and are close to opening another in Rwanda. They are indeed changing the world.

My message?  Don’t let age determine anything.  You’re never too young nor too old.  For me, Medicare-eligible does not mean rocking chair-eligible.  I’m not really trying to prove anything, I’m just trying to live life to its fullest. 

Comfort Zone: Part 2

A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about getting out of your Comfort Zone.  The gist of that one was that if you want to be a better athlete, you’ve got to get outside of your Comfort Zone, to do things that you don’t routinely do.  To push your personal limits. 

I think I also admitted that I pretty much live in my own personal Comfort Zone.  Home.  Job.  Bicycling.  I must tell you that I rarely get out of that Comfort Zone despite recommending it as necessary to avoid thinking the world revolves around you.

Well, I’m here to tell you that I’ve been outside of my Comfort Zone the past two weeks.  First, I was at a meeting in San Diego but then when the meeting was over, I was stuck in San Diego for 24 hours by myself.  My friends had all left.  Folks, I don’t do “alone” well at all. 

I’m not whining but it was way outside my Comfort Zone.   Being in a strange city without anyone that I knew and nothing to do—well that was definitely uncomfortable for me. 

The next day, I left to meet some buddies in Colorado to mountain bike for a week.   You probably know that I spend a lot of time on a road bike and am no stranger to mountain biking but I was with a group where everyone was a much better mountain biker than I am. 

I’m a nervous mountain biker.  I don’t want to wreck but inevitably do.  The first day I did a face plant and sported a spectacular shiner the rest of the week.  I was regularly pushing my physical limits, riding on hills that exceeded my abilities. 

But there is something rewarding about doing something that you don’t think you can do.  Flying down a hill on the back of a bicycle, barely under control, expands my capabilities.  By doing so, I find that I can exceed what I thought were my limits.  I can do more than I thought I could.

We went down a trail that was way beyond my biking abilities on the first day out.  We had ridden along the crest of a ridge at about 11,000 feet above sea level, pushing our physical abilities because folks, there isn’t much oxygen up there.  But it was gorgeous with views that seemed to extend to the end of the world.

But then we turned downhill on a trail called Green Creek and for the next 5 miles rode down a trail that mountain bikers call a rock garden.  Think cobblestones, irregular placed, lots bigger, with no real trail in sight.  I didn’t so much ride it as survive it.  But I did get better along the way. 

I also discovered that I could do this thing called a “Bike Park” where you ride a ski lift up to the top of a really big hill and then ride down that same hill.  Most folks wear body armor which I also found a bit daunting.  I mean, why do you need all those pads and a full-face helmet and all?  I didn’t really plan on wrecking so what was all that for? 

I was terrified.  Riding up the ski life I remember thinking “have you lost your mind?”  Then I discovered how much fun it was.  And I couldn’t get enough of it.  With each trip down, I got better.  I overcame that fear and turned it into a thrill.

That, in a nutshell, is why we have to get outside our Comfort Zone.  To do things that we didn’t think we could do and, in the process, learning more about ourselves.