Two kinds of suffering

For the next couple of weeks, I am going to feature passages from my book “Iron Sharpens Iron”.  You can get the audio on iTunes, Google Music or Spotify.  Or if you send a check for any amount to me, made out to the Boy Scouts of America – Housatonic Council, I will send you a copy of the book!  Send to Larry Janesky, 60 Silvermine Road, Seymour CT 06483.

Here’s goes –

“There are two types of suffering in the world; short-term and long-term.  You have to decide which one you want.”

This is all about delayed gratification.  It’s about working hard and doing the right thing (which may not be the fun thing or the easy thing) now so you can have no regrets later.   It’s about the difference between short-term thinking and long-term thinking.

I’ll take short-term suffering.  I’m in the “long term” now, and I am very happy with my choice.

How about you?

Update your beliefs

We have all learned stuff (from our first teacher, or a teacher) and then, our immature and inexperienced selves made decisions about how things are, (perhaps prematurely).  Let’s call them beliefs.

Many people look for confirmation they are right and dismiss anything that shows their beliefs are wrong.

Good judges are good belief updaters. 

It’s called learning.

Talking yourself into a not so good idea

I’ve been there.  

You have an idea that’s a little out there.  It’s novel and kind of exciting.  You know there are significant problems with it, but you focus on what excites you.  

You start talking yourself into it.  Your self-talk builds up the benefits and downplays the pitfalls.  You become kind of obsessed with it for a bit.  Thought precedes action.

You go for it.

The exciting part is there, for a short while.  After that, you have to live with the bad part of your decision – for a long time.

Doh!  

It wasn’t worth it.  Bad move.  What was I thinking?

Can I take that one back?

Life is constructed from a hundred thousand decisions.  Get the bigger ones right.

What is it like to be on the other side of me?

This is a great question I got from speaker Ryan Leak.  

You are the leader/manager/or just you.  What is it like to experience you?  What is it like to stand in front of you?  To take direction from you?  To get an email from you?  To be on a Zoom with you?  To be in a meeting you are leading?

I went to a high school football game recently.  The team scored and they got an unsportsmanlike conduct call on them.  The coach was screaming at the top of his lungs like a lunatic.  “Where is he?!” looking for the player who did it as the team jogged back to the bench after scoring.  “Get out of here!” he screamed as he jabbed his finger at him.  “Get out of here!” – at the absolute top of his lungs.

The whole crowd could see this kid getting abused.  I don’t know where he was telling the kid to go.  Talk about unsportsmanlike conduct!  

So the very next play is where you kickoff to the other team, right?  Who do you suppose was the kicker?  Yea – the same kid.  How is he going to play his best when he just got humiliated?

This coach runs his team by fear and intimidation.  That’s not leadership.  Sure football is an aggressive sport.  But getting the best from people is not about them doing it because they will get yelled at if they don’t, it’s about them doing their best because they are prepared and trained, they believe in themselves and you, and they really don’t want to let you down.

The coach obviously didn’t train the kids about that penalty.  When your team makes a mistake, you have to take responsibility.  How about “Great job for scoring guys.  We are going to be talking about the penalty later.  Time to kick off – let’s go get ’em!”

What’s it like to be on the other side of you?

Lessons from the "Big Race".

Assemble a great team.  To go far, you have to go together.  You need specialists with the skills necessary for the mission.  The team has to work together well.  My team all know and like each other, and have worked together before.

Prepare.  Before you “launch”, “present”, or “go live”, a lot of thinking has to be done about what you will need and how this will go.  Get ready and be thorough.

Experience matters. You seldom will beat the more experienced players on your first try.  You need some experience.  Try.  Get in the game even though you know you will lose, so you can learn.  Be willing to be bad at it, so one day, you can be great at it.  How long does it take?  As long as it takes.  Usually a long time.

When you can’t see, keep going until you can.  When you lose your way and can’t see a way out of this situation, take care of what you can – what is in front of you.  Stay calm, keep working, and strive to think clearly.

Don’t quit.  Setbacks will happen. Keep going.  Work through one problem/crisis at a time, and keep going. 

The journey is long – stay with it.

Believe in things that haven't happened yet.

If you don’t believe you can make something happen that hasn’t happened yet, you won’t try.

If you don’t believe in your ability to do something you have never done before, you won’t try.

If you don’t see things that aren’t there yet, you can’t manifest them into reality.

Your beliefs are a preview of your future.  Your action, discipline, and perseverance are the path to get there.

What do you believe in that you can’t see yet?

"Be fit to be useful"

Years ago I read this great book called “Natural Born Heroes”.  In it a character called George Sekondakis explains why in his advanced age he stays in shape, which in this case is a matter of life and death as the story takes place on a Greek island during the second world war with Nazis prowling around.

He says -“Be fit to be useful”.  

I like that notion.  At age 59, when I go to the gym, what is my reason?  (I often do hard physical work for hours that I could hire someone to do.)  I’m not going to be a bodybuilder, and I’m not training for any physical endurance contest, (anymore), so what is my motivation? 

I want to be able to do the things I want to do, do my work, and help others as the days, opportunities and events unfold, and not be confined by what I can or cannot do by physical limitations.  And, I want to feel good and live as long as I can as a healthy person.

That’s simple and easy to process.

Be fit to be useful.

The Big Race 2023 – Conclusion

I get out of the car and it starts raining.  Mark gets on the satellite radio.  The stub of the broken axle was half buried in the dirt and rocks.  The was no axle sticking out of the middle where you attach a wheel to.

I get the spare out, jack out, chock the three good wheels since we were on a hill, and jack the car up from the middle.  Mark struggles to get positive radio communication.  We needed a mechanic.  This repair was a bit above my pay grade, though I was determined to attempt it.

What we did not know was that our chase truck with our pre-run vehicle on the trailer had broken down 60 miles away.  This is how they would get to us to help us.  Dustin gets Mark’s message.  He knows the only hope is to get in contact with Javier who does NOT have a satellite radio and is on his way back to the finish line in Ensenada with his truck, pulling a trailer with his UTV that he brought down to prerun some of his sections.  But there is no phone service.  

Dustin stares at his phone, message composed.  He gets one little bar of service and presses send.

I put a big rock under the swing arm and let the jack in the middle of the car down which raises the swing arm.  I move the jack to the rear corner of the car and jack it up again.  Ready for someone to work on it.

Javier gets the message from Dustin 30 miles away.  He pulls over, unloads his UTV, and starts driving back to the dusty town of Ojos.  He meets Victor who jumps in.  They follow the race course towards us.

Every ten minutes or so a race vehicle comes by us and we have to flag them with flashlights so they don’t come around the corner and hit us.  The rain continues.  The tools are in the mud.

We wait for Joe to come by.  Surely he’d be passing us any minute.  We were still in the lead.  Joe’s tracker starts working, but we had no way to see it.  What others saw was the two leaders in our class stopped, 15 miles apart, one being 22 miles from the finish.  

It was a race.  Whoever gets their car fixed first, will likely win the Baja 1000, 1311 mile race.

I walked back down the hill with my cell phone flashlight to look for our missing wheel.  Last race it rolled over the cliff into oblivion and nobody found it.  

I find it.  The lug nuts are still on it, and the hub is still attached.  The brake rotor is bent like a potato chip.  I roll it back up the now muddy road.  We separate the rim from the rest.  I unbolted the spare axle and the spare hub we carried.

A vehicle approaches.  It sure sounds like Joe.  We are screwed.  But no, it’s Javier and Victor!  

Javi kneels down and studies the situation.  He never worked on a Honda.  He asks where Jason is.  Victor speaks to him in Spanish – something like “You can do it!” probably.  Javi goes to work.  I help at every turn I can to get it fixed as fast as we can.  We changed the whole axle, used the old hub, and decided not to put the spare brake rotor on the car to save time.  The caliper was badly bent but we didn’t want to open the brake system – we had no extra fluid.  We will only have three brakes.  Good enough for 22 miles.

The wheel goes on.  We jump in and leave Javi and Victor in the rain to clean up all the tools and spare parts that were in the mud.

Joe has not come by.  We are still in the lead – aren’t we?

The Big Race 2023 – Part 5

Javi was in the car for his last turn, from mile 1015 to mile 1165.  We didn’t know where Joe was.  It was light out again.  A full day of racing, a full night, and now the second day.  Your body wakes up when the sun comes up and you get new energy and new optimism.

We pulled into a spot to wait for Javi to bring the car into me and Mark for our last 150-mile sprint to the finish.  Javi got another flat, and Joe closed the gap some more – but how much?  His tracker still wasn’t working.  The other competitors in our class were 50 and 100 miles back.

Joe’s chase truck pulled into the same spot we were in.  Ut-oh.  He must be close.  Javi reports the brakes are soft and he had to double or triple-pump them.  We debated if we should bleed them or just go and not invest the time.  THe team assures me it won’t take any longer than it will to strap me and Mark in.

Javi comes in.  They take the hood off and open the master cylinder to put brake fluid in.  Javi pumps the brakes while Jason opens the bleeder valves on each wheel to let the air out.  Victor straps Mark in.  Dean fuels the car.  Javi is out.  I get in.  Javi is worried about how hot the shocks are with the whoops (waves in the sand, rough) so we leave the hood off even though we had shock coolers installed on the car recently. 

I step on the gas and go, relieved to be driving.  I can drive.  Waiting to drive seems much harder.

I know the whole way home very well.  Big whoops, past the windmills, through San Matais wash, past Mike Road, up the famous goat trail….the sun is getting low for the second time.  The sky turned purple and orange – beautiful.  We were confident that with just a 15-mile lead he couldn’t catch us now.  Could he?  We had a 15 mile lead, didn’t we? (We didn’t, we just didn’t know it.)

Our GoPro gets ripped off the car.  Too bad, that was great footage.

We are going fast, but don’t want to take chances of breaking the car now and feel like he can’t be making up much time.  It gets dark.  We get up into the technical hills – really rough from years of racing there.

Lights behind us.  “It can’t be him!  Is it?”  He tries to take an alternate line up and to our left.  We can see the side of his car.  It’s him!  S$%&!  He’s on a mission.  The course turns left and he falls in behind us.  What seemed like just seconds later, he rams us!

In Baja racing, it’s ok to hit a guy in front of you to let him know you are there and you want to pass.  With all the noise and dust and no rear view mirror, sometimes you’d never know.  It’s called nerfing.  But today we have the push-to-pass buttons and sirens.  Not that pulling over for my competitor to take the lead on me 40 miles from the finish of a 1311-mile race was the first thing on my mind…

When nerfing you have to be smart.  You don’t want to hit the guy hard, because you may take yourself out or cause an accident.  And you should wait until the course smooths out a bit because in the big bumps, the rear end of his car and the front of yours are going up and down wildly.  You could get under his car or over it.

But the #1957 had a new driver in the car; a Baja veteran, who was bent on showing his team he could get the lead back at the end and win.  He was amped up and not using his head – not patient enough.  He just hit us and hit us hard.  The back end of our car jumped up and to the side.  He got by us, and we used a flurry of expletives to mark the occasion.  Then we took a wrong fork in the dust and excitement and lost another minute when we were off course and had to turn around.  

We saw his lights bouncing in the dark distance – he was gone.  Dang! 

I did my best to keep up.  The course dumped us out of the hills and onto a graded road.  He should be faster than us here and extend his lead.  Then the road straightened out as it flowed into a small dusty town.  We see a car pulled over ahead in the darkness.  OMG!  It’s him!  We go by!  Were in the lead again!

We assumed he had a flat tire, as that is the most common reason to pull over.  But many other things can break.  We had 4 miles of 37 mph speed zone and then it was back in the dirt for 25 miles – his last chance to pass us.  I was determined to drive as fast as I could once we got back in the hills after the speed zone, and that is what I did.  I didn’t want him to come by me and break my heart with a couple miles to go again.  Either we were going to win, or I’m going to break the car trying, but I’m not getting passed again!  

15 miles later we were sliding around a flat turn in the switchbacks in the hills, and BANG!  The left rear of the car went down.  Dang!  A flat!  We practiced changing flats.  We talked about what we would do.  Mark changes the flat, I stay in the car.  We leave the jack in the dirt because it takes a minute to put it back in the dark.  Mark jumps in, I go while he bounces around trying to get strapped in.  That would be the fastest.

Mark gets the impact wrench out from his door pocket and climbs out the window.  He yells – “There’s no tire!”  “I yell back “You mean the spare fell off?”  “NO, There no wheel on the car!”

We were 22 miles from the finish and broke an axle.  Oh no.  It seemed there was no way to win this race now.  Joe would be coming by any minute.  The roller coaster of emotions continued. 

We worked so hard, and, in the pitch black dark, we were at a low now…

The Big Race 2023 – part 4

To give you a scale of how long this race is, consider this.  After our first turn where we gave the car to Victor and Dustin at mile 202, to drive on the paved road to the place where we take the car for our second turn, it was a 7 1/2 hour drive in the chase truck! 

Javier pulled into mile 525 two minutes after Joe went by in the dark.  It takes about 2-3 minutes to get new drivers in the car and all harnessed up, air supply hose connected to your helmet, communication wire plugged in, and to fuel the car and check it over for damage to the wheels and suspension.  That makes us 5 minutes behind Joe. 

This stage would be 240 miles for Mark and me – about 7 hours in the car.  About 40 miles in we see a race vehicle pulled over in the dark ahead.  Is it Joe?  Is it Joe?  It was!  

We blew past him and celebrated.  “Bro we are leading the Baja 1000 at mile 565!”  Fist bump!  We raced ahead to put a gap on him.  Later we would learn that he stopped again at the next road crossing to change the front differential and some suspension component. 

We put a 50-mile gap on him.  We thought it would be enough.

Each vehicle has a tracker and with WiFi you can log in and see where everyone is.  Well, Joe’s tracked stopped working, and we did not know where he was.

Mark notices the gas gauge glowing at him in the dark.  It’s on E.  Oh carp!  Did we make some error in the calculations?  We had been in the car for 6 hours.  We get on the satellite radio to tell our team.  We want them to drive back closer to us so we can meet them sooner and we don’t run out of gas.  Joe is back there and we don’t feel like giving him gifts right now.  I’d run out of gas in the middle of nowhere in 2017 and waited seven hours for gas.

After some negotiating and mild arguing, we are told that the gauge is only approximate and that when it’s on E we still have gas.  We prayed they were right.  Everything on the car is custom aftermarket stuff.  The oversized gas tank did not come with a gauge – it was added later.

We gave the car to Victor and Dustin again.  We drove ahead to Gonzaga Bay near the only gas station and little store in town.  That’s all there is there.  We waited.

Over the satellite phone came a faint voice.  It was Victor.  “No brakes!”   Oh no!  He limped it into us 90 minutes later.  He was going very slow and when he got near the chase truck where we were set up to fix the car, four of the team had to grab the car and stop it with manpower.  No brakes is right.  None!  

The right rear wheel was wobbling.  The sway bar was broken off, and there was no brake fluid left.  Victor had hit something that caused this damage.  The mechanics went to work while Javi and Richard got in the car and waited.  It took 30 minutes.  Joe never came by, but we knew we were consuming our cushion.

Javi sped off.  

Where’s Joe?