Turn off the cruise control

Every day we’re presented with a series of choices, the majority of them routine decisions that we’ve made hundreds of times before. To deal with the sheer number of these decisions we typically make the same choice over and over again. For example most of us follow the same morning routine every morning (shower, shave, brush teeth, etc.). We have to. If we spent time pondering every minor decision in our lives we’d never make it through the day.

The downside of this “automatic decision making” is that it encourages going through life without much conscious thought.

These patterns make it difficult to identify areas where our lives might not be as fulfilling as we’d like then to be because we don’t practice actually taking the time to think about our choices. We run along on cruise control and the next thing we know it’s 10 years later and we wonder what happened.

My point is that we rarely take a few hours to examine the direction our lives are taking and decide if we’re happy with it or need a course correction.

So this weekend try to take an hour or two and shut off the cruise control. Look at the choices you’re making and evaluate if you’re on the right track.

The Appointment

Today I made the appointment.

Over the last three weeks he’s lost weight, developed a painful sounding cough, stopped eating as much as he used to, and  started to have problems making it outside to use the bathroom.  My wife took him to the vet two weeks ago and had blood drawn.  The test came back and confirmed our fears.  Lymphoma.

I remember the day we adopted him from the pound.  He had been in for more than a month.  Had been adopted once before by a family that thought a double wide trailer was a good home for a dog like him.  They didn’t realize that he needed exercise everyday and room to run.  So he was brought back to the pound and all of his history up to that point was lost.  His pound name was “William” but my wife and I didn’t think he looked like a William.  On the ride home I said I thought he looked like a Riley.  My wife, fond of alternative spellings, renamed him “Ryley” and the name stuck.

When we first brought him home he was well trained.  He didn’t beg for food.  Didn’t get on the furniture unless he was positive we weren’t home.  We,my wife mostly, were successful in breaking all of his good habits by spoiling him rotten.

He loved to swim in our pool in Florida.  He would chase the pool toys that floated on the surface and bark at the pool toys that sank to the bottom.  If I dove to the bottom and stayed down too long he’d jump in and swim out to over top of me as if he was going to save me.

He wasn’t above taking a nip at a kid or a father in law that messed  with him a bit too much but he never went further than a warning shot.  He was afraid of fireworks and thunder.  So much so that he once crawled under a bathroom sink and broke a faucet line.  That little adventure flooded our whole house.  Thanks goodness the insurance company didn’t ask too many questions on the claim.

He was my running buddy until he got arthritis in his back legs.  After that we had to settle for a daily walk.  He went on long car trips and loved ride in the front seat.  When we moved to Illinois he spent three months with my parents on their farm.  He loved running around out there and convinced my parents to overfeed him.  He was a fat and happy dog when we finally took him back to our new home.

It’s been a little less than eight years since we brought Ryley into our lives.  Eight years of walks at five or six am.  Eight years of making sure we got home from work in time to let him out to go to the bathroom.  Eight years of playing in the pool and playing at the dog park.  Eight years of sleeping on the couch, begging for food at the table, chewing on toys, and eating cat poop.

Those eight years will come to an end on Friday February 17th at 5:30pm.  It’s a little strange knowing the exact day and time that Ryley’s life will end.  He’s tired.  He’s in pain.  And it would be cruel to keep him around because the decision is too difficult for me to make.  Selfish.  Cowardly.

I hope we’ve given him the best life that he could hope for.  I know we tried.

I love my dog.  I will miss him. I will cry.  I have cried.  It’s because I love him that I will be there with him when they give him the shot.  I owe it to him to be there for him when they finally take his pain away.

He’s always been there for me.

Finding your inner slacker

Sometimes it’s just better to do nothing.

All week I’m bombarded with motivational messages through social media,books,etc. I’m under a constant onslaught of advice on how to train better, run farther, make more money, have a better love life, and advance my career. This is by my choice but sometimes I find that paying too much attention to all of the quotes, tips and advice on how find your drive,capture your passion, or become wildly successful can have the opposite effect. I actually start feeling less motivated and depressed because I’m not LIVING EVERY MOMENT TO MY MAXIMUM POTENTIAL.

Sometimes it’s better to take a step back and rest for a bit. Enjoy sleeping in. Read a book that has really no point other than to tell a story. Eat a damn brownie for Chrissake. Everyday of your life does not need to be DEDICATED TO EXCELLENCE. Some times dedicating a day to the couch is the best thing you can do.

What could you do with an extra 19 hours per week?

I recently saw a trailer for the new Justin Timberlake movie “In Time”.  From the trailer I surmised that it depicts a world where the currency is time.  You trade in four minutes of your life for a cup of coffee etc.  This prompted me to think how I use my time and more importantly how much time I “waste” on a weekly basis.  I did some quick, unscientific calculations and found that on average I spend about 46 hours a week sleeping, 40-45 hours a week working (or at least at the office), 5.5 hours jogging, 34 hours a week with my wife and kids doing various activities, and 5 hours a week walking the dog.  This 123-128 hours per week accounts for about 75% of my weekly life.

So what about the books that I want to write?  The much neglected blog to which I rarely post ?  Hobbies?  Business networking?  Going out with friends?  I don’t see my life as much different than most other men my age.  Where do I find the time for self development?  For charity work?  I took a quick look around my living room and found my answer.  The television.

The television shows I watch are, for the most part, devoid of any educational or socially redeeming value.  I watch dramas about biker gangs and crime scene investigators; reality shows about housewives and bad girls clubs (thanks to my wife); football, and news documentary shows that depict long unsolved murders.

According to the American Time Use Survey by the Bureau of Labor Statistics the average American spends almost three hours a day, 2.7 hours to be exact, watching television (http://www.bls.gov/news.release/atus.nr0.htm).  That equals almost 19 hours a week or about 11% of your weekly life.  I’m not saying that there isn’t some good entertainment on television but can anyone honestly tell me that the television shows they are watching are worth 11% of their life?

The funny part about the Timberlake movie is the world it depicts isn’t science fiction.  It’s reality.  We trade our time at work for money which we then trade for goods and services.   The only difference is we don’t have a digital countdown clock on our arms reminding us that our time is limited.

We admire people that climb mountains, start a business, travel the world, run marathons, write books, or do charitable works.  All of those people use their time to achieve their goals and to lead extraordinary lives.  We all “would love to do that if I could only find the time”.

I just found 19 extra hours a week for you (6,935 hours a year).  What are you going to do with it?