With Hope in Mind

Life is hard. Life can stink. Life is not fair. But there is a way to get through with some semblance of peace and happiness. How is that? It's all in your mindset. Life is not controllable. Circumstances happen that completely and utterly take you off course, like the winds of a raging hurricane. You are tossed and battered, bruised and burdened, confused and conflicted. But in the midst of chaos there is one thing that can be controlled. Your mind. What you think will be what you do. Will you quit or will you hope?

There are four types of mindsets that I have observed in people. The Optimist, the Pessimist, the Regretter, and the Planner. These are ways that people try to control their situations. While we all fall into these categories, the extent to which one identifies with a category affects their resilience and ability to hope.

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An Optimist tends to see the good in everything. They look for bright side, they don't like to dwell on negative things whether it be news, movies, situations, and/or people. They prefer to see the world through rose colored glasses. They prefer to think of only things that are pleasing. In fact, if you are a Christian or you have Christian friends, they would say that we should take Paul's advice in Philippians 4:8, which says, “Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable--if anything is excellent or praiseworthy--think about such things.” And that is good advice, who wouldn't want to think about great things all the time?

While I think being an optimist is an admirable way to live, I think we can agree it isn't always easy or practical to our highly distractable minds. The negative elements are all around. And if truth be told, more often than not, a true optimist will try to insulate themselves from the negative by building barriers, so that they can avoid the messiness that full engagement often entails. But, no matter how much one sinks their head in the sand, only thinking of good, avoiding the bad, the bad still happens to them and many times they are not prepared to deal with it. They feel blind-sided and let down or worse of all, miss out on meaningful relationships with people that may not fit their optimistic view or notion of worthiness. Being and optimist does not give immunity to trouble.

Then there is the Pessimist. The Eeyore of the crowd. The one who never gets their hopes up or sees

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the good, the one that expects disappointment, not fully grasping that they are becoming a self-fulfilling prophecy. If you look for the negative you will surely find it. It's easy to be disappointed because we live in an imperfect and sinful world. It's easy to have your feelings hurt because people make off-handed remarks. It is easy to be a victim, and it is easy to give up. Again, if truth be told, more often than not, a true pessimist will try to insulate themselves by building barriers, as well, never fully engaging in the people or experiences around them. The pessimist will never find their way to happiness, because they haven't prepared their mind for anything else but failure and their default is to quit.

But there is a third way to be. A hybrid of both and that is the way I prefer live. It has taken me many years and many trials to get to this point. I would call myself a hopeful realist...one who appears to an optimist as a pessimist, to a pessimist as an optimist. WHAT? That sounds like crazy talk. Let me explain. I tend to look at things with the view that it most probably won't work out as I had planned, there may be some form of failure, and I may get disappointed. But when those things happen, that aren't how I had imagined, my mind is prepared and I can react from there. I am not shocked or upset because I figured it may occur and so I go on. I may have to go in a new direction for a bit or try a different tactic, but I don't give up. One of my favorite proverbs...Proverbs 16:9 says, "A man's heart plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps." When I change my mind set to believe that, I find that most times something better than what I thought could happen or better than I could've planned happens. It is the renewing of my mind, as Paul says in Romans 12:2, "Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is--his good, pleasing and perfect will." The renewing of the mind becomes the optimism that allows me to assess and move on, to not quit, to get through the terrible times.

It is never easy and it can be painful, but the optimism I'm speaking of is really none other than Hope. And hope is a wonderful thing! It is all the cliches'... the sun peaking through the clouds...the light at the end of the tunnel. You can never be confined to sadness, failure, loneliness, if you have Hope and Hope is what sets us free in the end. 

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A person can spend most of the time looking in the rearview mirror of their life...the Regretter. Being filled with regret for all the coulda, woulda, shoulda's. Like the saying goes, "Hindsight is 20/20". It's easy to beat yourself up for the decisions you made with the information you had at the time, but in hindsight may have not been the best. However, all that is really accomplished is that you have missed the here and now, and it is a vicious cycle, because now they have more regret for the things they continue to miss.

A person can spend most of their time looking to the future making their plans...the Planner. People try to account for all the things they think may happen and how to attain their goal down the road. It is their way to try and control the chaos and while planning is good, plans tend to become highly inflexible. The plan becomes the master of the planner instead of a means to an end. All the while, no one knows what will happen in even the next hour, so then it would seem that planning is futile. And while they are making all these plans and trying to make things happen, they miss the here and now and it too becomes a vicious cycle, because they are making concrete plans on the sinking sand of the unknown.

But there is another mindset and that is the one filled with hope. That person can have a plan, live in the moment. Roll with the day and let its surprises bloom like the bright golden petals of the

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sunflower. Sometimes, things come up that seem bad at first, but actually allow you more meaningful experiences than anything you could have ever planned yourself. None of us are guaranteed the next hour, the next day, the next year. But we spend so much time looking at our calendars, confined to our infinite little plans that we miss relationships and experiences that are here and now. What if we learned to trust our gut? What if we learned to listen to the small voice inside that offers guidance, but is rarely heard above all the external noise? Jesus, in Matthew 6:25, 27, 33-34 and asks powerful questions while offering great advice on this when He says, “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes?....Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?....But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself.

Now with all my talk of living in the here and now, am I saying to be irresponsible and do what you want? No, plans are good, regrets have merit, but it's how much flexibility that you allow with those things that will give you the freedom, the hope, and the ability to not fear failure, to enjoy the good surprises that occur in the day to day. I guess all I'm trying to say is renew your mind, change your mindset, be flexible and try living in the moment, that is what we are guaranteed, so live each moment like it's your last. Notice what and who is around you and fully appreciate them. Don't let the fear of failure, past or present, hold you back. Live with hope, for hope covers the past and paves the future, and hope begins now. 

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Tri Hard Win Big

I am a triathlete.  I'm a weekend warrior with aspirations.  I love the sport of triathlon because it is a metaphor for life.  I believe if you try hard at something, then you win big...in so many ways other than just a top finish in a contest.  The definition of Triathlon is an athletic contest in which an athlete competes in three different events: swimming, cycling, and running.  From tri  meaning three and the Greek Athlon meaning contest.  Some say it's grueling, crazy, cultish, liberating, tough, invigorating, but I think most, if not all would agree, that once attempted it changes you and your outlook on life and the way you approach your life's course.

You might say I was a triathlete before triathlons were mainstream.  Well, as a kid in the 70's, my three favorite things to do were swim, bike, and run.  We lived in the city and we had a little pool in our postage stamp sized backyard.  My brother and I would get up in the mornings and swim "laps".  I use that term, liberally because in essence we swam circles around the perimeter of the little galvanized tank we called a pool.  We would swim until a whirlpool formed, or we were so dizzy we were on the verge of puking, and then let the current carry us around.  Once the waters stilled we would start the cycle over in the opposite direction.  At some point my mother realized that we could probably benefit from a larger pool and learning to swim in a straight line, so she enrolled us in swim lessons at the YWCA.  She would take us everyday, whether it was a lesson day or not, just so that we could get our swim fix.  It was here I learned that the only person I really need to compete against was myself and the competition was endless.

Another love back then was running.  I would run everywhere.  To the store, to my friend's house, around the block; walking was just too slow for me. I ran barefoot, in sandals, in my cheap knock-off brand of tennis shoes, it did not matter, I just ran.  We did not have a lot of money, so there were no organized sports for me.  Since running was free and could be done anywhere, it became something I focused on.  I created my own competitions, sometimes enlisting my brother and the other boys in the neighborhood and sometimes just with myself.  I use to run a mile everyday, just to see how much faster I could run it.  Once again, it was me against myself.

And then there was cycling. I lived on my bike....my (what seemed like 300 pound) Huffy counterfeit from Western Auto.  It didn't matter that it was heavy, it had 10 speeds and it was my freedom, my wheels, my way off of the little city block on which I resided.  New horizons were awaiting.  There were miles to ride and hours to do it in.  So much to see and so many places to go. Back then you could leave your house in the morning and go anywhere you wanted without fear...fear of being run over by a texting driver, or fear of being kidnapped...and the only requirements were to check in once in a while and be home by the time the street lights came on.  Summer days provided an abundance of hours to build endurance and proficiency in the saddle.

I guess it was back there in my youth the foundation was set.  I had been training and preparing myself for a sport I really didn't know existed...until one Saturday afternoon in 1980.  I remember tuning into my favorite show, ABC's Wide World of Sports.  There was a new sporting event being televised and it was called The Ironman. I remember being glued to the tv set watching the athletes soldier through the elements and torturous and seemingly unending course.  These athletes were swimming, biking, running, all in the same event!  My little teenaged heart swelled and I thought, "someday I'm going to do that!"

Fast forward to 1990, I'm  25 years old, in the routine of my career life and the only swimming, biking, and running I was doing was sporadic and leisurely at best.  One day my soon to be sister-in-law told me about a local YMCA indoor sprint distance triathlon that was coming up.  Suddenly the voice of the young girl that loved swimming, biking, and running, rose up from within and compelled me to sign up for the race.  I decided I could try it with less than a month of training, how hard could it be?  Let me tell you, while I was not in top aerobic shape, I realized the real obstacle was not necessarily better training...I could push myself physically; no the real obstacle was mental.  I had not foreseen the tediousness and boredom of swimming laps in a pool for 500 yards (seemed like an eternity to me by that age and lack of fitness), riding a stationary bike for 12 miles, and running circles, 55 laps to be exact, on an elevated running track around the Y's gymnasium, until I reached my 3.1 miles.  At least all those circles I swam as a kid helped me from becoming a dizzy mess on that running track.  But after I completed that last lap and crossed the finish line my life was changed.  I learned so much about myself that day and what it means to push yourself mentally and physically.  And I realized that if I could hone that skill, it would be useful in all aspects of life, not just in sporting events, but the real hard events...those that life signs you up for without any notice or any chance to train.  And thus my love affair with triathlon was sealed.

Now let's fast forward again to 2016, I'm 51.  I have 4 children who have grown up on me.  Two are in college and two are finishing up high school.  I am coming to grips with the looming empty nest and the obsolescence of my mothering skill set (see What to Expect When You Are Letting Go if you want to read more on that subject).  I've been facing one of the most arduous and emotionally difficult hills on my course.  Some would call it a mid-life crisis, but I prefer to think of it as finding my new purpose and passion.  I've been searching, studying, seeking my new course and lo and behold, what has presented itself to me, once again, as a way conquer the obstacles that life has to offer?  Triathlon!  

About a month ago, my husband sent me an email with just a link, no explanation or anything.  The link took me to one of the world's finest female athletes, 4x Ironman Champion Leanda Cave's new Team LC's website (see Team LC).  She was seeking two elite women triathletes, and 14 amateur and age group women triathletes to be ambassadors for her foundation.  They would encompass Team LC and compete in races and build a community of active women.  All with the goal of encouraging and empowering women through the sport of triathlon.  



World Champion Leanda Cave

When I read over website and the application, my heart began to beat fast and I was so thrilled at this prospect. To be a part of an organization that seeks to encourage women and empower them to be active and strong was right up my alley.   After all encouraging others is a priority to me. Such a small effort can make all the difference in another's life.  There are so many circumstances that can tear down a person in any given day, and to be able to uplift with a kind word, gesture, or to come alongside and help carry the burden is one of the greatest joys in life...not only does it empower the givee, but also the giver.  And so too it goes with physical fitness.  Fitness is a huge part of my life. I believe by participating in athletics, you learn a lot about yourself and it's a catalyst for growth.  You learn to dig deep, to accept disappointment and rise above, to be strong in body, mind, and spirit.  Exercise and competing helps clear the cobwebs from a tired mind, gets the blood flowing to better health and vitality, and gets those creative juices flowing.  You see your body for the beautiful gift of power and promise that it is.  It does amazing feats and carries you to endless heights and it's something that needs to be cherished and cared for.  Those are the concepts that I want women to realize about themselves...to see themselves as strong, capable, and beautiful. To see each other as teammates and comrades in this tiresome and difficult sport of life. To forget about what the culture promotes amongst women...insecurity, jealousy, comparison and a completely unrealistic and unhealthy definition of beauty.....photo-shopped lies. 

But then the voice of self-doubt began to chatter in my mind and I had a million and one reasons why I was not good enough to ever be considered, much less selected.  After all, I'm an age grouper who has competed in a few sprint triathlons with lofty dreams of a 70.3 Iron Man in my future.  I'm a full time mother, who has to exercise around everyone else's schedule.  I have old knees that hurt and a quirky spine condition.  What do I have to offer?  The litany went on for quite a while, but then that young girl's voice began to whisper and it became louder and louder until I heard it...that same voice that overcame the taunts of the boys, the voice that said you can run as fast as those boys, you can throw the ball as good or better than they can, you can run that last mile, can lift that heavy weight, you can do anything you set your mind too, even fill out an application to become an ambassador for women everywhere.  Suddenly, every circle lap I had swum in my backyard pool, every mile I had ever run, every hill I had ever climbed on my 300 pound Huffy knock-off, every middle of the pack finish in the sprint races I had completed had purpose and meaning and they were all leading me to this jumping off place.  So I completed the application and pressed SEND, with a prayer, crossed fingers, and a resolve that even if I would likely never be selected, out of the hundreds of other applications, I tried! I did it! I overcame! 

Then one day, weeks later, I was having one of those days where you think it really can't get any worse, but it does.  One of those days where you go off alone to lick your wounds, because if you don't you will snap and unleash your fury on every innocent bystander in your path.  It was one of those days and I had walked circles around my favorite park until the sun set....going in circles again.  I'm detecting a pattern here.  I got in my car and checked my phone, trying to prolong the inevitable of returning home to try and carry on with a stiff upper lip.  I checked Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, text messages, voicemails, the light was quickly fading and I was in danger of breaking the sunrise/sunset park law.  Wouldn't that be a fine capper, to get a ticket from the park ranger as he was making his last rounds to run off errant park goers?!  So with reckless defiance, I decided to check my email before starting the car.  And right there on the top of the list in my inbox was an email from a man named Lou.  Truth be told I almost deleted it because I did not recognize the name.  But thankfully, I opened it and read these amazing words, "Dear Deanna, Congratulations! You have being selected as one of our fourteen Team LC Ambassadors!

I read it and re-read it four times and then I began to cry.  The day's oppression released.  It was like I had received an affirmation...that all that I believe about being a strong woman overcoming the negative voices and obstacles that life throws is true; that giving up is not the best option.  That engaging in sport is vital and empowering for women, because participating in athletics (no matter the level) unites us and creates a common bond of camaraderie in strength and knowing.  And finally, it buoyed that bubble of hope that starts deep within that says, even though I'm not the best of the best and am a work in progress, I have something to contribute and there are others out there that believe that about me. Truth is, we all are not gifted to be elite athletes, but we all are gifted to be the best self.  And that best self can offer encouragement and inspiration to another who is trying to become their best self.

I noted earlier that triathlon is a metaphor for life.  There are different aspects that must be faced and must be overcome while finishing the course laid out for you.  Life just as triathlon has rough waters that will crash over you...like the grief experienced when losing a loved one...and you can let it wash you away or you can swim through it. In your race, your swim may not be pretty, you may be flailing and get knocked by others who are battling through their own course, but if you focus on the things you can control, like your breathing, or your form, the fear subsides and sooner rather than later you are out of the water.  Training teaches that perseverance.

Once you clear the water you may find a stretch of flat highway where you can cruise along.  Life is good, all your preparation has paid off, only then to round the bend and come upon the hills of life....like those you encounter in raising children or an battling an illness....the daunting hills, the glorious summits, and the terrifying descents, all discouraging, invigorating, and harrowing, in their own right.  But you chip away, dig deep, grind on up, get out of the saddle, change gears till you reach the summit.  There you enjoy the view from the top and experience satisfaction of overcoming, however fleeting. 

 Because you will soon find yourself on the downhill slope where you hang on and pedal furiously. The euphoria you felt a bit ago has now turned to a white-knuckled grip, as you sail downhill on treacherously thin tire treads.  Ironically, it's embracing and pedaling through the fear  that is the very thing that powers you up the next uphill struggle.  Each part of the hill has benefit.

Finally, when you think you may not be able to pedal another mile, you find yourself on the run.  Legs like rubbery blocks, rebelling with each punishing pounce.  You know the end is just close enough to taunt you.  This is where your real mettle is put to the test.   How easy would it be to just quit, give up...like when you hit a rough patch in your marriage or you have a difficult job situation.....your mind says things like what is this all for?  What will be proven by this?  I'm not really happy right now.  This is not fun!  There's no harm, no foul, if you just walk off the course, right? 

But this is where you decide who will be the victor, your heart or your mind.  The heart wants to soar above the heights, to feel the joy of a job well done, to cross the finish line and fight the good fight.  The mind is bored and restless and filled with all the detritus of self doubt and insecurity.  It allows all those negative voices to crowd in and tell you all the reasons why it's best to give up.  And just when it seems that those voices may elevate to a place higher than the cries of the heart, the finish line appears.  The crowd is cheering, the end is in sight, the body is on autopilot, and the heartbeat swells into a thunderous roar, drowning the voices of the mind.  And as you cross the finish line it occurs to you...."I tried hard and I won big!"  Doesn't matter what place you came in, doesn't matter how long it took, because as your foot crosses that line you realize you won:  heart over mind, finish over quitting, pride over pain, substance over circumstance. 

In life, I have found there is a lot of swimming and running in circles, seemingly endless efforts, but nothing could be further from the truth.  They actually come full circle, for that is where you develop patience, performance, and  purpose.  That is where you sharpened the skills needed to meet and overcome the obstacles you will face. The word Triathlon means three contests.  The word Try means to put forth effort.  The word Win means to be victorious in a contest. In my way of thinking, not giving up, but trying any contest, be it an athletic competition or facing life's obstacles head on is a win, a success, and an achievement to be proud of. It's never too late to get your body moving.  Start small and aim high.  Even the greats had to crawl before they could walk. So why not get out there and Tri Hard...Win Big!