Finn de Siècle
Reflections on the completion of my 90 day writing challenge and my son's birthday.
A day after my 21st birthday in May 1997, I embarked on a bike trip that took me one and half times across the U.S. Starting in Boulder, Colorado, I rode to Florence, Oregon, where I rendezvoused with a fellow tourer I found through an Adventure Cycling classified ad (in print!). We rode up the coast, north of Seattle to Anacortes, Washington, before heading east across the country to Portland, Maine. The trip, which took about two and a half months and covered around 5,000-5,500 miles, was not fun. It rained almost every day for the first month and a half. While things started well with my classified companion, the situation deteriorated when we picked up a third rider, an out-of-shape dude whose bike broke down a few times a day. I ditched them both around Fargo, North Dakota, logging 1,000 miles in the following ten days. I was in my angry-young-man phase of life, and I had something to prove with the trip. Consciously, I was proving that I could ride across the country, a requisite accomplishment for any semi-serious American bike tourer, something I considered myself to be. Subconsciously, I was proving my grit, fortitude, and manliness, proving it far more to myself than anyone else. In these pre-Instagram days, I don’t recall anyone but me caring about my trip.
My most memorable interaction of the trip was with two brothers, who were also riding across the country. They were both collegiate water polo players and had muscular physiques that’d make Roman statues seem soft. I was talking to one of the brothers, also named David, about water polo. He remarked, “You know what the best thing about water polo is?”
“No,” I responded honestly.
“When you get out of the water, everything is easy.”
David’s metaphor stuck with me. Whenever I’ve been in hard, seemingly interminable situations, I think to myself, “I’m building strength (metaphorically) treading water and playing, and when I’m no longer in this difficult setting, the strength will remain.” Whatever I do, I’m either building or using capacity.
Yesterday, after a particularly arduous day on the farm, I started thinking about what I’d write for my 90 day writing/posting challenge. I knew the challenge was almost done, and thought the final day was the 19th of July. When I checked the first post of the challenge, I realized the 16th (Sunday) was the final day. I did it. I reached the coast. Mixing sports metaphors, the water polo match was over. It was time to get out of the pool.
Absent the task of determining a worthwhile idea to write about, and absent the task or writing, editing, and posting a newsletter around that idea —which takes, on average, around two and a half hours per newsletter —I realized I had more time and capacity than I did when I started in April. I used this time and capacity to take a nap.
A hasty tally shows I wrote 76 posts on Substack. Around two or three of those posts were pulled from old content, but most were new. My only “cheat” posts —which were within the parameters I set for the challenge —were a couple cross-posts to my Medium page.
My subscription list, paid or not, barely grew during my challenge, and there was a pronounced paucity of feedback from my readership, i.e. you. Doing hard shit without overt encouragement seems to be my lot in life (I’m blessed with plenty of lurkers). Oh well. Tread water, chuck ball.
I feel compelled to highlight the two oases in my feedback desert,
and Buzz. Their engagement and regular approbation of what I write is appreciated and meaningful, particularly since both are longtime stalwarts and tastemakers of the global running scene, albeit with decidedly different vibes. Attracting the attention of these two men follows a pattern for me. Whether running or real estate, I’ve developed a knack for attracting and, I hope, earning the respect of real influencers —first movers, shit-tested experts, and iconoclasts —not just hyped-up characters of the day. I take comfort that the extent of my influence is usually reflected in the quality, not quantity, of my connections.
Speaking of connections, today is my son Finn’s eleventh birthday. Finn and his brother, Ryder, are by far my greatest work and my best friends, like my father was to me before his death. I love them both more than words can convey, but I have not seen either of them —and have been actively denied access to them—since October, 2019. Just not losing my shit over our forced separation —and I did that for an extended period—has required immense emotional and fortitude. Tread water, chuck ball.
Our separation corresponded with a major spiritual awakening I experienced in 2019. The awakening was inspired by boys, who I realized viewed me as their hero. Rather than shirking their heroic characterization of me, I lived into it. I asked myself, “Who am I not to be their hero? Who am I not to be the best version of myself for them, for me, for the world?” As it was said in Luke 12:48, “From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded.”
My life these past four years have been largely a journey of living into the greatness my boys identified in me, while simultaneously not letting myself be crushed by the iniquity of the samsaric, acquisitive, anti-life, checked-out world (it’s a thing). With my writing challenge complete, and now endowed with more time and capacity, I will continue my hero’s journey of self-actualization. My boys need me. The world needs me. I’m here and raring to go.
To anyone who’s read this far, thank you for your attention. Attention is our chief currency in life, and I appreciate the payment. I will undoubtedly keep writing, albeit not as regularly and in more strategic formats. Stay tuned and don’t hesitate to drop me a line.
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CONGRATULATIONS! Maybe to some people it's easy, but to me 90 days of writing unique and thoughtful content, often including research, is extremely impressive. Your effort inspired me to consider doing it sometime (note my lack of commitment). My main commitment now seems to be doing what feels good in a deeper and maybe more sustainable sense, although distinguishing that from just being old and lazy is hazy.
I also noticed the paucity of comments on this platform (I presume I'm not the only person reading it), but that's how it goes in today's media world - attention received seems to be entirely unrelated to the quality of content given. One always presumes one lives in a meritocracy, but at least I am surprised to discover this is not the case. Brainless Instagram posts can receive a gazillion responses. How this works I do not know (I'm not on the 'Gram).
I do know that while meritocracies are not common, longevity is equally surprising in it's effectiveness. I qualify for every Senior Discount there is, while I need money far less than most young people. I read a study on famous scientists, authors, and successful business people, and it reported their best work was almost always way behind them; indeed, their credibility was in weirdly inverse proportion to what they actually did.
Thank you for mentioning me in your post - it's sort of relevant because I apply the above principal to myself. I'm often interviewed somewhere, and the stock answer to how I've been successful is, "I haven't died yet". Which is about it. Don't die, keep going, and whether it's because of how SEO works or some other reason, one's life becomes easier or better.
Again, congratulations on the 90 Day Challenge - not only for completing it, but very good thoughts and writing!