Mindshift
California had no seasons, really, which meant no seasonal changes in mentality while I lived there.
Weekly Three
HEAR: This acoustic/live performance of “Don’t Lose Sight” by Lawrence is amazing.
READ: Do you like Bridgerton? Read George Eliot. She writes like Lady Whistledown (rather, Whistledown writes like Eliot). Right now, I’m reading the novel Adam Bede.
VIEW: YoYo Ma (with the help of his Cello) answers Twitter questions.
No. 67: Mindshift
I went to a Yoga class at the beginning of the week. The instructor led some thought exercises as we rolled around the floor stretching, downward-dogging, balancing, etcetera.
“Shift your mentality as we come out of winter and into spring,” she said in her soothing, Yoga instructor voice. “It’s a whole different mentality, isn’t it?”
This got me thinking about how life in a place where the seasons are well-defined is different mentally as well as physically.
I haven’t experienced a full winter here yet, but it makes sense that your mindset might shift as you enter months of wind, sleet, and snow. The same way you prepare your body for cold weather with jackets, caps, and gloves, I imagine you prepare your mind with thoughts of conserving energy, staying warm (and indoors), and keeping alert for weather-related hazards.
With that there may also be an increased focus on community and family. With unforgiving — and truly deadly — weather on the horizon, it’s a good time to lean on one another more, and to look forward to gatherings like Thanksgiving and Christmas.
I thought about these things in contrast to life in California, where my mindset didn't change so profoundly with the seasons. I might be excited for summer or spring. In the fall, I might try to artificially create a more saturated fall feeling with sweaters and lattes. During the winter, I got out my rain coat and rarely used it. A change of mindset with the changing of the seasons in California was, in short, trivial and ineffective.
While winter is gone and spring is trying to rear its head here in Illinois, I’m currently experiencing a micro mindshift caused by the weather I'm about to face. Immediately after pressing “Send” on this newsletter, I’m packing up my Volvo and driving east through Illinois, Indiana, and Michigan to get to my destination in Hasting, MI. Tomorrow morning at an ungodly hour, I will get up and start putting on my layers in preparation for a 100 mile bike race. Over the course of 6 hours of riding, the projected “high” is 21 degrees. This will require a mental hardness I’m not sure I’ve ever had to muster before. If that doesn’t force a mindshift, I don’t know what will. ♦
Mailbox
In regard to last week's newsletter, "Threshold":
Awww, the FTP! A perfect example of what I like to call level two fun (something that you can call fun after the fact). Maybe I’m slightly masochistic, but I’m sure you can relate with your enjoyment of pushing your bodies limits.
I remember doing my first FTP test when I first started my triathlon obsession. I had a new coach, I was new to biking, I was new to pain outside of the pool, but oh so excited for everything that came at me.
I, too, did the 20 minute test on a stationary trainer, although I had the benefit of having a coach encourage—that is, yell at—me to keep going. Your description of being delirious during the last portion is similar to how I felt, deep in the pain cave, no control over my thoughts, almost in a time warp. (By the way, that seems like a blast to me…)
However, once I finished this, I hopped off the bike and was told to run 3 miles on the treadmill as fast as I could… Surprise! And this was my introduction into the world of triathlon.
Anyways, your experience with your FTP test had me laughing and reminiscing on my torturous training experiences. I hope you’re enjoying your new home.
- Chris
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