IRS Liveness Detection

      It’s one adventure after another around here.

       While trying to create an account on the IRS website that would allow me to upload 1099s for Cyndi’s yoga instructors, I learned some new phrases that I’ll try to work into conversation: liveness detection, digital onboarding, passive liveness, and active liveness (those last two sound like Cyndi describing the differences between the two of us).

       It turns out, liveness detection is supposed to determine if I‘m really alive. In the old days, had you asked me what liveness detection meant, I would’ve said it meant to hold a mirror in front of someone’s nose and mouth to see if it fogged up. But nowadays, that would be wrong. To satisfy the IRS gatekeepers, I first had to digitally onboard myself.

       Following instructions, I took a video selfie using my smartphone, which in this case meant holding my phone so my face was centered in the oval-shaped frame and waiting until I received a “Processing video selfie” message.

       The screen kept telling me to hold my phone closer, closer, closer, way closer than I was comfortable with. However, once it was satisfied, it made a line-drawing sketch of my face which made me appear even worse and older and scratchier than I felt.

       Afterward, because I was captured by the phrase liveness detection, I did an online search and quickly fell down the rabbit hole. I learned that “liveness detection is a security method that verifies a person's identity by comparing a biometric sample to a real-time video or image.” In this case, it compared my new video selfie to my Texas Driver’s License photo, which to me looks faded and washed-out even though I got it new last summer.

      Apparently, liveness detection is a key component of biometric authentication systems and is used to prevent fraud. So a rogue gang of Chinese hackers won’t sneak into my account, hold up a still photo of me they found on Facebook, and submit a stack of fake 1099s. Whew!

      Here are some cartoons furnished by the website to explain the process. I tried to use my own photos, but I couldn’t grab a screen capture without moving out of the oval.

      More than once over the years I’ve learned that when I’m exposed to new technology, it’s usually new only to me. Everyone else has been using it for decades. In fact, liveness detection was first used in 1950 by Alan Turing, the father of modern computer science. The experiment was called the Turing test, where he tested the intelligent behavior of a machine and its ability to generate responses similar to a human. The test consisted of an evaluator, aware that one of the conversation subjects was not a human. They communicated by typing on a keyboard. If the evaluator was not able to recognize a human from a machine, the machine passed the test.

      I don’t yet know if I passed the liveness test and now approved to upload 1099s. I’ve checked the IRS website daily for quite some time and all it’s given me is a twenty-digit tracking number and the message, “Submitted Pending Review.”

       The next morning, still reverberating from my online adventure, before sunrise, I reached across the bed and put my arm around Cyndi and told her I was doing my own liveness detection. I was confirming that the woman in bed with me was really her, and she was really alive. However, I’m not sure Cyndi was awake enough yet to pay attention to me. Or she could have been flirting with me in that special way she has by pretending not to notice anything I’ve said or done.

       So why does liveness detection matter? Of course it matters to the cyber-security world we live in, and I suppose it keeps us safe and all that. But the phrase itself piqued my curiosity. Feeling alive is important to me.

       One of my favorite movies, Secondhand Lions, is about two aging adventurers and war heroes who are doing their best as they get older to feel useful and alive. (Me, and most of my peers, have the same concerns about our lives.) At the movie’s end, they died in a plane crash, in a biplane they assembled themselves from a truckload of parts, after learning how to fly from a small instruction booklet. They never held back from trying something new. They kept pushing all the way to the end.

       The final lines from the movie go like this: “So, those two men from you grandfather’s stories, they really lived?” “Yeah … they really lived.”

      That’s the scene I’ll always think of from now on whenever I see the phrase liveness detection. When I’m gone, I hope someone will ask, “Did Berry really live?” and the answer will be, “Yes … he really lived.”

* *  *  *  *

2 Corinthians 6:1-10 … We beg you, please don’t squander one bit of this marvelous life God has given us.

Twenty Years With Valiant Men!

      I was hesitant back in December 2003 when Paul asked if I’d be part of a new men’s ministry. I never considered myself a man’s man. I was not, nor never had been, an athlete, didn’t play golf, only followed sports sporadically, would rather be by myself reading or writing than hanging out with other people, didn’t hunt or own a gun, rarely went fishing, and was totally indifferent about NASCAR. And I have more pens and notepads than tools in my pickup. I said I would gladly be part of the new men’s ministry, but I didn’t think I should teach or lead it, since everything I did at the time I ended up the teacher. I worried I was teaching too much and listening too little.

      When Paul told me they were going to start by going through the Wild at Heart materials I knew I was full in. I would be leading and teaching. Paul knew it, too.

      What happened next is summed up by this quote from Mark Batterson’s book, Wild Goose Chase: “Nothing is more unnerving or disorienting than passionately pursuing God. He will take you places you never could have imagined going by paths you never knew existed.”

*  *  *  *  *

      This past Saturday evening we celebrated twenty years of that same men’s ministry, which became known as Iron Men. It’s grown into a band of like-minded men dedicated to helping each other live solid, godly lives as leaders, husbands, fathers, and grandfathers. As John, one of our current members, recently said, “We are each other’s coaches.”

      The name of our group, Iron Men, comes from Proverbs 27:17 that says, “As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another.” But sharpening each other isn’t all we do. We also smooth each other. We’re like old wooden-handled tools that show the wear of constant use, the smoothed portions worn smooth by the hands that used them. Our constant contact with each other wears away the rough spots leaving us with the pattern of our fellow valiant men. The older I get the more I look forward to being worn smooth by these men.

*  *  *  *  *

      Why a 20th-anniversary party? I believe churches should celebrate successes more often, to remember of the work of God among us. We should find joy in longevity, and gratitude in long obedience in the same direction. We should have more parties.

      We scattered copies of all the books we’ve gone through in Iron Men during those twenty years as table decorations, and each book drew memories from the men. We told stories and laughed the entire evening. It was great!

      I was reminded of a Bible story about a young man named Saul who lived a small life tending the family flocks until God called him out to be the first king of Israel. I Samuel 10:26 says, “Saul went to his house in Gibeah, accompanied by valiant men whose hearts God had touched.” Before he became the king, Saul was all alone. But afterward, he was surrounded by valiant men. I realized I was like Saul, surrounded by valiant men whose hearts God had touched.

      Twenty years ago God gave me a gift I didn’t request or expect or even understand. He gave me the Iron Men, and they are the finest men I have ever known.

*  *  *  *  *

“I run in the path of Your commands, for You have set my heart free.” Psalm 119:32

Notes From a Family Ski Trip

      It snowed all night Friday night and we had to sweep at least six inches from our rented Jeep SUV before driving to the ski area. Fortunately, while there was a lot of snow, none of it froze to the windows, windshield, or road.

      We got everyone loaded – all seven – and made the equipment roll call: “Boots? (check), Gloves (check), Goggles (check)” and like that. It’s not as easy to do as it is to write. Our first day we had to double back to get everything we’d left behind.

      It only took about ten minutes to drive down to our favorite free parking lot only to discover it was already completely full – apparently people arrived earlier than usual to enjoy the fresh new snow and they arrived before we did. So we drove another five minutes to an overflow parking lot, where we parked, loaded up gear, and rode the city shuttle bus to the ski village.

      We grabbed our skis from the rental shop and hobbled in our boots into the deep fresh snow. Again, it wasn’t easy. Putting on skis is a challenge when the entire family is involved, and putting on skis in deep powdery snow is even more difficult. Especially for the youngest granddaughter. There was significant complaining before everyone was ready to scoot downhill to the gondola.

      That is, everyone scooted but me. My skis wouldn’t move. When I tried to shuffle them forward it was like trying to move through peanut butter. I made it to the gentle slope down toward the gondola, but I still couldn’t move. I stomped my skis up and down and all that, but even though I was pointed downslope I couldn’t move forward.

      I lifted my left leg to see if something might be broken on my ski or my binding and noticed two inches of snow frozen to the bottom of my ski the entire length front to back. I then checked my right ski and it was the same. I clearly wasn’t going anywhere.

      So I angrily kicked out of both skis and started walking down toward the gondola. Cyndi had been patiently waiting for me to ski down to the bottom and get in line with her, but also wondering why I wasn’t moving and why was I taking so long since the lifts and the gondola were already moving. The rest of the family was already in the line but there I was standing with my snow-caked skis.

      Cyndi, concerned about me, asked, “Why are you taking so long? The line keeps growing.”

      I showed her the bottom of my skis. She didn’t understand the problem, just like I didn’t understand at first. This was a first time for this for both of us.

      “Well let’s go. I’ve been waiting for you a long time.”

      “Just go get in line by yourself, then. I don’t know why this is happening to my skis and I don’t know what to do about it,” I snapped, instantly regretting it.

      We rode the gondola all the way to the summit and retrieved our skis. I’d hoped the movement of the gondola would knock some of the snow off, but no joy. My skis were still caked with snow. Cyndi grabbed one and started scraping snow. I took the other and used the nearby railing to scrape snow. Then we switched to our ski poles, and eventually had both skis clean and ready to go.

      “I’m sorry I barked at you back there. I wasn’t upset with you, and you were very patient. But I was upset with my skis and the whole universe of winter sports and ready to quit it all. I didn’t know what was wrong and I didn’t know how to fix it.”

      “I know.”

      But now, with clean skis, I could move. It was great. I glided effortlessly and joyfully. I love skiing. I love winter sports. I’ll keep skiing until my last days!

      Cyndi reminded me, “People over seventy ski free at Santa Fe. You have to keep this up a couple more years to get the free lift tickets you’ve earned.”

*  *  *  *  *

      We used to ski with a large group of friends every year at SnoMass, Colorado, and one of the apocriphal stories repeated year after year was about a woman named Gretchen and her friend who stood in one place talking for so long their skis froze to the snow. At the time, I never knew whether to believe the story, but if I did, I couldn’t imagine it happening to any other two people.

      Until now. It happened to me. A two-inch layer of snow frozen to the bottom of both skis and I couldn’t move at all. Bummer.

*  *  *  *  *

      I used to take more ski photos - especially action photos - when I carried an actual camera with film. Now, with my ever-handy phone, I take fewer. Why is that? We used to pay twice for film pictures, but now digital pictures are free. I should be taking way more, not less. Maybe because it’s so easy to take hundreds of photos, I overreact by taking very few. Or it could be those old action photos were never very good and never flattered the skiers.

*  *  *  *  *

      One of our primary games to play as a family nowadays is Rummikub. Well, we also play 42 (dominos), but that tends to be adults only. Rummikub is friendlier for all ages. Cyndi and I started playing Rummikub with the Pyeatts during the Covid shutdown. And once we even convinced some church friends, the Ervins, to play, right square in the middle of the dining room at Blue Sky Restaurant, after we finished our burgers. We also used to play regularly with our friends Roy and Karen.

      Rummikub is a game that requires concentration (at least, when it’s your turn) and complex problem solving, but also leaves room for wide-ranging conversation and fun.

      And – it’s easy to travel with. Cyndi usually packs it in her backpack when we are flying somewhere with family, and she pulls it out during long layovers.

      One of the most ardent players now is our eleven-year-old granddaughter, Landry. She has followed the path of her mother and grandmother and aunt – a long line of strong, opinionated women who are ruthlessly competitive game players.

      I learned during this most recent ski trip that I may be the only family member who doesn’t also play Rummikub online. I think all the others have been sharpening their game by competing against computers, and thus, they regularly trounce me.

      I don’t mind. The fact is, I play to be part of the family and join in the conversations, and to keep from appearing to be an antisocial hermit. As far as the game itself goes, I’m just as happy reading a book. But reading a book doesn’t allow for much grandfatherly interaction, so I play games with the girls. Even though they’re becoming more ruthless game by game.

*  *  *  *  *

      It snowed all day, our last day of skiing, so the powder was continually replenished. It was a bit difficult for us as once-a-year skiers, but it was also fun. And it was quiet. There is something about the sound dampening effect from the falling snow that adds a personal quality to the skiing.

      We made several big runs in the morning, after Cyndi and I cleaned all the snow off my skis, and it was fun and fast and full of ego-building turns. But by 11:00 we were ready for a break and a chance to warm up a bit, so we stopped at the Thunderhead Lodge, located in the middle of the middle mountain.

      It took a while to locate three empty chairs, but I eventually saw a group preparing to leave and used the time-honored technique of hovering over them so I could nab the chairs when they left.

      As it turned out we ended up beside a young couple who recently moved from Mississippi to Denver. She told us she used to attend summer camp in Texas with, as it turned out, the daughter of one of Cyndi’s fellow teachers. The couple couldn’t help but notice our ages – we were at least as old as their own parents – and congratulated us for still skiing. And they thought we were exceptional grandparents to give a ski trip for Christmas instead of buying more stuff. They sort of went on and on, building us up and up, and I felt like hero of the day by the time we left the lodge.

      I can’t wait until we do this again!

“I run in the path of Your commands, for You have set my heart free.” Psalm 119:32

20 Good Books I Read in 2024

      I’ll admit right up front: I’m a reader. I love to read books. Some of my earliest memories are reading late into the night from my summer reading list. In fact, I recently rediscovered my summer reading record from 1963, before I entered the second grade. It was saved by my mother in a notebook of memories.

      Some read books partly because they want to learn new things, but it’s seldom the actual data that I’m interested in. Most of the time I read because I want to know how the author thinks, to engage the author in a conversation. I seldom read a book without using a highlighter to mark my favorite parts and a pen to write comments in the margins, either agreeing with the author, disagreeing with the author, or linking something the author said with my own thoughts and observations.

      Sometimes I want to import the writer’s thoughts into my own heart and mind, to absorb his sense of time and pace and dialogue, to be a better storyteller. There is value in immersing in a particular author, especially if the goal is to absorb his technique and his voice and his imagination. You need a broad swath to catch someone’s heart - reading only one or two books is not enough.

      I often read in order to have something new to share. For me, it isn’t enough to simply journey through life; I need to talk about it. I’m not the solitary man I claim to be, even though I certainly enjoy solitude. I have a need to talk about what I’ve been through. I have to tell my story, and reading brings new stories.

      Some readers get frustrated, even embarrassed, because they can’t remember something from a particular book ... even books filled with personal notes and highlighting, and ask: what’s the point in reading if I don’t remember? But something from one of my favorite writers, Kathleen Norris, rescues me. She wrote, books are “a way of reading the world and one’s place in it … working the earth of my heart.” I wrote in the margin of her book: I read so many books and listen to songs and sermons on my iPod, hoping the bits and pieces will compost in my subconscious, and come out as intelligent thought when I write and teach.

      I don’t expect everyone to love reading as much as I do, or like the same books I like, but all of us would be better people if we read more. And so, here are some suggestions. These are listed in the order I read them; I didn’t try to rank them by importance or enjoyment … that’s a paralyzing and pointless exercise. However, if you’re interested, give me your email address and I’ll send you my entire reading list for 2024. And send me your own list. I’m always searching for ideas.

      These twenty books turned out to be the most meaningful for me over the past twelve months. Should you choose to read one of these, I’d love to hear your thoughts. Also, if you have any recommendations, I’d love to see those, too.

1.     The Climb: The Autobiography, by Chris Froome … tells the extraordinary story of Chris Froome's journey from a young boy in Kenya, riding through townships and past wild animals, to his unforgettable yellow jersey victory in the 2013 Tour de France.

2.     Hidden Potential: The Science of Achieving Greater Things, by Adam Grant … shows that progress depends less on how hard you work than how well you learn. Growth is not about the genius you possess—it’s about the character you develop.

3.     The Longest Winter: The Battle of the Bulge and the Epic Story of WWII’s Most Decorated Platoon, by Alex Kershaw … about a small American platoon who faced the main thrust of the entire German attack. Vastly outnumbered, they repulsed three German assaults in a fierce day-long battle before being forced to surrender.

4.     Empire of the Sum: The Rise and Reign of the Pocket Calculator, by Keith Houston … This book felt personal. Pocket calculators changed my world, yanking me away from my slide ruler and pushing me toward personal computers.

5.     An Immense World: How Animal Senses Reveal the Hidden Realms Around Us, by Ed Yong … I assumed, without much thought, that animals sensed the world the same way I did. But this book describes the sights and textures, sounds and vibrations, smells and tastes, electric and magnetic fields sensed by animals, fish, and insects.

6.     The Pioneers: The Heroic Story of the Settlers Who Brought the American Ideal West, by David McCullough … describes the experience of a brave and broad-minded band of people who crossed raging rivers, chopped down forests, plowed miles of land, suffered incalculable hardships, and braved a lonely frontier to forge a new American ideal.

7.     Life on the Mississippi: An Epic American Adventure, by Rinker Buck … This was my second book by Rinker Buck, and it won’t be my last. He chronicles his incredible adventure: building a wooden flatboat from the bygone era of the early 1800s and journeying down the Mississippi River to New Orleans.

8.     The Way, My Way, by Bill Bennett … Bennett hiked 800 kilometers on the Camino de Santiago. He was not a hiker, not a Catholic, not an adventure traveler, but an Australian film director who was never sure why he was doing it.

9.     Soul Keeping: Caring For the Most Important Part of You, by John Ortberg … One of my favorite writers tells how to discover, feed, and care for our souls. This was our Iron Men book for fall 2024.

10.  90 Lessons for Living Large in 90 Square Feet (… or more), by Felice Cohen … The lessons the author learned from living in a 90 square foot apartment in the middle of Manhattan are practical and valuable for all of us no matter how much space we live in.

11.  Joy Ride: A Bike Odyssey from Alaska to Argentina, by Kristen Jokinen … I love reading about epic adventures, especially about extended multi-continent cycling trips, and about who the participants became as human beings because of it.

12.  God Gave Rock and Roll To You: A History of Contemporary Christian Music, by Leah Payne … the author traces the history and trajectory of CCM in America from the Jesus Movement to today. Our family was heavily engaged with CCM during most of these years, and this was a walk through the most formative of our adult years.

13.  The Dusty Ones: Why Wandering Deepens Your Faith, by A.J. Swoboda … wandering, whether on foot, or by intellectual and spiritual pursuit, is not an absence of faith but a central component of faith.

14.  When the Sea Came Alive: An Oral History of D-Day, by Garrett Graff … Hundreds of stories and viewpoints of D-Day are told in real time, and in the words of the soldiers themselves.

15.  The Storied Life: Christian Writing as Art and Worship, by Jared Wilson … this book explores the ins and outs of writers and writing, how the practice is more about transformation than simply communication.

16.  Gun Lap: Staying in the Race with Purpose, by Robert Wolgemuth … a challenge for us to live our l lives with energy and intention. This will be our Iron Men book for spring 2025.

17.  Alone: The Classic Polar Adventure, by Richard Bird … his plan was to spend six months of 1938 alone in Antarctica, gathering scientific data and experiencing peace and quiet. However, the adventure almost killed him. It was a reminder that extended time alone may be more than we want.

18.  The Solace of Fierce Landscapes: Exploring Desert and Mountain Spirituality, Belden C. Lane … This book explores the question: What has drawn spiritual seekers into the wilderness for centuries?”

19.  The Five Marks of a Man, by Brian Tome … This book discusses what it means, and what it takes, to live life as a Godly man, based on 1 Corinthians 16:13-14, “Be on your guard; stand firm in the faith; be courageous; be strong. Do everything in love.”

20.  How We Got To Now: Six Innovations That Made the Modern Word, by Steven Johnson … the author explores the history of innovation over centuries, tracing facets of modern life (refrigeration, clocks, and eyeglass lenses, to name a few) from their creation by hobbyists, amateurs, and entrepreneurs to their unintended historical consequences.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

“I run in the path of Your commands, for You have set my heart free.” Psalm 119:32

100 Things That Made 2024

      It’s the most wonderful time of the year, the time for making lists. I love lists. They make me happy, calm me down, and push me forward into the future – especially lists of happy things and good times.

      Writer and artist, Austin Kleon, taught me to create a list of things that made my year; I wrote my first list in 2014, so this is my 11th edition. You may notice some repeats from my previous lists. That’s on purpose. I love the good things that stick year after year, and I want to call them out.

      When we look back over our life, and over the previous year, we tend to remember the bad over the good.

      Why is that?

      Two reasons: Most good things stretch out over long periods of time, but bad things happen all at once, so the bad things stick in our memory while the good things fade to the back. Also, we have an Enemy who tries to rob us of joy and love and covers over our best memories with the debris of daily life.

      Therefore, we must intentionally remind ourselves of the good things, the grace-filled things, the influential things, and the things that make us human. Living with gratitude is the secret to a meaningful life, and this exercise of listing people, events, and things that made the year better is a powerful move toward having a habitually thankful heart.

      I encourage you to put together your own list and try not to stop until you can identify at least 100 things. A list of the best things you watched, the best things you ate, the best advice you received, the best apps you discovered, the best lines you heard in a movie, the best book you read that’s been sitting on your shelf for more than a decade, the best changes you made to your daily routine. Ask yourself, what did you watch or read or cook or listen to or consume this year? Look back over 12 months and ask: “What did I love this year? What do I recommend?”

      It won’t be easy, and it will take some time. You may have to find help to remember the best, so dig out your journals, flip through the photos on your phone, comb through your calendars, review your reading lists and music purchases, and ask those who are close to you. It can be a lot of work, but trust me, it’s worth the effort.

      And when you do, I hope you share. I’d love to see your list. A big part of imbedding gratitude in your life is making it known.

100 Things That Made 2024

      (By the way: (1) This list has been randomly sorted; trying to rank items by importance is paralyzing; and (2) I don’t mention Cyndi very often, but you can correctly assume she was part of almost every one of these.)

1.     Our jungle of a front yard this summer; not only lots of bushy plants but ten-feet-tall sunflowers.

2.     Speaking at The Springs Church men’s breakfast in Colorado Springs, in January, about relational mentoring. (for more information about relational mentoring, follow this link.)

3.     Serving on the Midland Development Corporation board. After six years I’m term limited; my last meeting will be in January 2025. It will probably be my last fling with city government, but who knows. Maybe something else will come up!

4.     Traveling down the highway listening to audio books with Cyndi. We may go hours without talking to each other, yet it feels like we’re on a date.

5.     Rediscovering a collection of essays I wrote from reading the Bible book of Exodus. I had forgotten about them.

6.     Solving Crossword puzzles each morning. (This year I switched from Sudoku to Crosswords to use a different part of my brain. It’s my small effort against dementia.)

7.     Stuffing my first dollar into a Salvation Army kettle at Loop 250 Market Street in Midland.

8.     Kevin Willhite with Soft Touch Chiropractic Clinic. He keeps me straight and pain-free.

9.     The post-ride protein reload at Black’s Barbeque in San Marcus with Carroll’s family, following the Ride to End Alzheimer’s.

10.  Watching the total eclipse in April. I didn’t expect to ever see one in person.

11.  Book: When the Sea Came Alive: An Oral History of D-Day, Garrett Graff

12.  Walking around our neighborhood park with Cyndi. (I’ve finally embraced walking instead of running. It feels like who I am nowadays.)

13.  Our July trip to Steamboat Springs, Colorado, with Katie and Madden and Landry and Tonya. Thanks to Craig and Linda for their hospitality.

14.  Making cotton candy with Cyndi at the FBC Candy Jam.

15.  Playing jazz with Craig at the Schrenkel’s Christmas party, hoping some of Craig’s skills might slop over onto me.

16.  Cold plunges at Cyndi’s yoga studio. No one could be more surprised than me how refreshingly fun this is.

17.  Joke: (from drummer phenom Gene Cedras) The Calvary was crossing the Great Plains when they heard the sound of war drums. The captain said, “I don’t like the sound of those drums.” Then a voice called out, “It’s not our regular drummer.”

18.  Chicago & Earth Wind Fire concert at Dickie’s Arene in Ft. Worth with my horn-blowing buddies and families.

19.  Speaking about writing to Clark Moreland’s Integrated Reading and Writing class at UTPB

20.  Cyndi’s insulated cups she made for the 20th Anniversary of Iron Men.

21.  Pentatonix concert in Ft. Worth. It was a stunning performance shared with 15,000 people.

22.  Telling stories about my mom at the Mother’s Day Storytelling event.

23.  Book: Empire of the Sum: The Rise and Reign of the Pocket Calculator, Keith Houston. (This was an excellent account of invention and development, and a walk through my personal timeline.)

24.  Cooking on my Pit Boss pellet grill. So far, pork chops, brisket, and hamburgers have been my best efforts. This year for thanksgiving, I smoked my first turkey. (I would love to have your favorite recipes.)

25.  Strawberry Hot Springs in Steamboat

26.  Watching The Muppet Christmas Carol on November 1st. “Mother always taught me: Never eat singing fruit.”

27.  Book: God Gave Rock and Roll To You: A History of Contemporary Christian Music, Leah Payne. (Another walk through our family timeline, from teen years to grandparent.)

28.  Metro Big Band music mission trip to Naples, Italy. It was the 4th Global Missions Project for Cyndi and me.

29.  Watching the Paris Summer Olympics. We tried to see at least a bit of every event.

30.  Attending the Southern Baptist Convention in Indianapolis with church friends in June.

31.  Wrangler Relaxed-Fit jeans. Skinny jeans don’t work for me.

32.  At a group lunch at Murray’s in Midland, world-famous storyteller Antonio Rocha, sitting across the table from Cyndi and me, said, “I can tell you two enjoy having fun together; I can see it in your faces.” His comment makes us happy every time we remember it. It’s who we hope to be.

33.  Quote: From an announcer at the Paris Olympics 2024. “Young horses run fast; old horses know the way.”

34.  Quote: “Not enough sleep is the apex predator of human behavior change;” Dan Harris, How to be a Better Human podcast,” (I have to force myself to get enough sleep. There is always something else I’d rather do.) (Bonus: apex predator of human behavior change is my favorite phrase of 2024.)

35.  Speaking at the FBC Midland Men’s Breakfast in June.

36.  Thanksgiving dinner at our house with Tonya, Michal, David, and Melanie.

37.  Reading my Daily Bible.

38.  Cycling 70 miles with my brother Carroll up and down the Texas Hill Country near Wimberley in the Ride to End Alzheimer’s.

39.  Our Christmas in Granbury with Byron, Angela, Katie, Landry, Madden, and Tonya.

40.  Quote: “Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well-preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming, ‘Wow! What a ride!’” (attributed to Hunter S. Thompson) – correspondingly - “The problem with putting things off to the last minute is that the last minute arrives more quickly than we expect.” (Maggie Smith)

41.  A friend found me in my secret hidden back corner at Rosa’s and said, “I thought it was you.” “Really? How?” “I recognized the back of your head. And only you, as an adult, would carry a quirky backpack like that.”

42.  Watching and listening to Cyndi read from the book, The Best Christmas Pageant Ever, in our Ezekiel Class. I’m sure I’ve listened to Cyndi read this at least 100 times, whether in class or in our car while driving to my parent’s house for Thanksgiving, and yet, I still haven’t developed an immunity. I can’t help tearing up when Gladys Herdman yells, “Hey, Unto You a Child Is Born.”

43.  Playing in the FBC orchestra and Midland College Jazz Band with Cyndi. (One of my favorite things about life is that Cyndi and I’ve played music together since 1973. It’s a strong tie that binds.)

44.  Soft-Cover, black, squared Moleskine Journals.

45.  Tuesday and Thursday morning gentle yoga class at Midland Yoga Works. It’s just my speed.

46.  Cyndi Simpson in yoga pants.

47.  The 33rd annual Midland Storytelling Festival. We’ve attended all 33. Follow this link for videos.

48.  Playing with our reinforced FBC orchestra and choir for the Christmas presentation. Sometimes I can hardly stay seated in my chair.

49.  The outside escape room in downtown Steamboat Springs.

50.  FBC Men’s Retreat at The Greathouse Center with my good friend, and our speaker, Sam Williamson.

51.  Playing in the combined jazz ensemble (Midland College, Odessa College, UTPB) with guest clinician and premier trumpet player, Willie Murillo.

52.  Joining the crowd from Midland to watch our local favorite, Bryce Hoppel, run 800 meters in the Paris Olympics.

53.  Attending the High-Speed Aerospace Transportation Workshop at UTPB School of Engineering. It was one more opportunity to see and hear ideas that are literally over my head. Each year I pick up another 2-3%. One thing I’ve noticed. Attendees find their seats quickly, and sit quietly. This is a room full of introverts, not social butterflies. Engineers, not real estate agents.

54.  Book: How We Got To Now: Six Innovations That Made the Modern World, by Steven Johnson

55.  Playing trombone with Denver and the Mile High Orchestra in Fredericksburg and Midland.

56.  Skiing in January at Santa Fe with Katie and our granddaughters, Madden and Landry.

57.  Writing Sunday School lessons for Connect 360 and GC2 Press. (Me: “Cyndi, all the other authors are seminary grads and PhDs.” Cyndi: “That’s why they asked you, to hear a different voice.”)

58.  Mailing birthday cards.

59.  Quote: “We shouldn’t see our opinions as cherished possessions. We should treat them like everyday clothes. Look at the views in your closet that were trendy once. Discard the ones that look silly to you now. Wear the ideas that fit you today. Be ready to outgrow some of them tomorrow.” (Adam Grant) … and correspondingly … "I hold ideas very loosely," (Malcolm Gladwell) … and … Me: I hope to spend the rest of my life revaluating my opinions and learning new viewpoints.

60.  Friday evening dinners with Britt and Patti Pyeatt. Feels like family. Feels like home.

61.  Yellow highlighters. I buy them by the box and use them all the time. Also Pentel EnerGel 0.7 tip ballpoint pens, red and blue.

62.  Playing Rummikub with granddaughters

63.  Book: Gun Lap: Staying in the Race with Purpose, Robert Wolgemuth. (This will be our book for Iron Men Spring 2025)

64.  Me: “Can I pick up a prescription for my wife?” Pharmacist (smiling): “Can you prove that you are married?” Me: “If you look deep into my heart …” Pharmacist: “That works. But I also need her name and birthday.”

65.  Learning about South African Braai, and wondering how to create something like that with friends in Texas

66.  Teaching in the Ezekiel Class.

67.  Sharing cartoons on my Facebook page.

68.  The neighborhood ducks laughing at us on our early morning walks around the ponds. They’re so proud and protective of their duck life.

69.  Reading Austin Kleon’s compilation newsletter every Friday morning

70.  Dancing with Cyndi.

71.  Movie: The Best Christmas Pageant Ever. I loved the newest version released in 2024, and I also loved the previous version from 1983 featuring Loretta Swit.

72.  Cycling on the Austin Veloway and surrounding neighborhood with Carroll.

73.  Not watching 24-hour TV news.

74.  Worshiping in the Vita Abbondante Chiesa Battista de Casoria (Abundant Life Baptist Church of Casoria), singing Jesus Mesiah in Italian.

75.  Book: The Dusty Ones: Why Wandering Deepens Your Faith, A.J. Swoboda

76.  My Whataburger Yeti cup.

77.  When people show me their own list of 100 things.

78.  Hiking Guadalupe Peak with the Evermore Class.

79.  Our standing date (Cyndi, Tonya, and me) at Blue Sky every Friday at 1:00 pm, where we split a hamburger, tater tots, and Caesar salad. Simple, routine events like this place another drop of glue that binds us together.

80.  A new word I learned: Assumicide (to cause harm due to faulty assumptions).

81.  Taco Tuesdays with friends from the Ezekiel Class.

82.  Cyndi’s homemade apple pie. Not only it is my favorite, knowing she makes it just for me feeds my heart.

83.  From my friend Jody: “You say introvert. I say state of the art social filtration system that improves the quality and purity of interaction by preemptively reducing contaminants.” Well said, Jody.

84.  Finishing the year with 3,031 books on my reading list (since 1986). Send me your 2024 reading list and I’ll send you mine. Maybe we’ll discover new books together.

85.  My first experience with Virtual Reality, flying an F-104 at Mach 2.5, using MITRE’s Virtual Reality flight simulator.

86.  Regular lunches with my pastor, Dr. Darin Wood, and friend, Clark Moreland. The conversations trend toward brainy, even when discussing Legos.

87.  The Thanksgiving Sunday evening worship service at my church, a combined service of four churches from four denominations in Midland: First Baptist, First Methodist, First Presbyterian, and Golf Course Road.

88.  Fly fishing in January with Byron and Angela in the freezing water of the Guadalupe River near Canyon Lake, Texas.

89.  Donating my 139th pint of blood (17.375 gallons since 1988). My life goal is 160 pints (20 gallons), which means I have about four years to go before I have to set a new goal. (It makes me happy to donate blood and I always look forward to it. If you aren't a regular doner, I encourage you to consider it. I can’t think of anything else we can give away that costs less (our body makes more blood to replace the donation with no conscious effort on our part) and benefits someone else so much.

90.  Playing Christmas jazz with Rabon and Craig at the Midland Art Crawl in Cyndi’s yoga studio (Midland Yoga Works New).

91.  My first Men Around the Fire eating hamburgers and storytelling at our house. I hope to do this at least once a quarter.

92.  C.A.B.B.A.R. (Coffee And Breakfast Burritos At Rosas with men from the Ezekiel Class, the first Monday of each month.)

93.  When a friend was explaining to me why her husband was walking to the car without her, she said, “We aren’t like you and Cyndi, joined at the hip.” (Cyndi and I liked that description of us. That’s who we want to be.)

94.  Bill Britt with Integrity Massage – he keeps me moving

95.  Having lunch and renewing an important and enriching friendship, in Granbury, with Glen and Kristie Hackler.

96.  Book: 90 Lessons for Living Large in 90 Square Feet, Felice Cohen

97.  Replacing the battery in my Dell XPS 13” laptop. Using my ultra tiny screw driver to open the case, change the battery, and close the case, felt very Jason Bourne-ish.

98.  Mailing my books to Amazon. It means someone somewhere is buying them and (I hope) reading them.

99.  My 50th high school reunion in Hobbs, New Mexico. This turned out to be more enjoyable than I expected.

100.        Base Camp Gathering (men’s retreat) in Buena Vista, Colorado, with my Noble Heart friends. There is a depth among these brothers that I need.

“I run in the path of Your commands, for You have set my heart free.” Psalm 119:32

Going Social

      It’s possible I’m about to become a social butterfly after all these years.

      This morning after Iron Men and Gentle Yoga class – which, by the way, makes Thursdays my most sociable morning of each week (I talk to at least thirty people in the span of five hours) – I sat in my favorite booth and read from A. J. Swoboda’s book, The Dusty Ones.

      He wrote about a time when he drove to the bank, parked, walked up to the ATM to make some deposits and get cash, walked across the street to the grocery store to get dinner, went through the self-checkout line, and got back into his car. Swoboda wrote, “I sat down in my seat and realized that I had managed to make a deposit at the bank, get cash, buy groceries, and get back into my car not having to talk to one single person.” Feeling as though God wanted him to change the way he used both the bank and the store; he decided to stop using the self-checkout line or the ATM. “Neither of them forces me to look someone in the eye and see the face of God, the imago Dei.”

      Once again, I read someone else’s story and realized he was actually telling my own. Now that I’m apparently and mostly retired, I must make extra effort to be around people, be face-to-face with people, and to speak to people. I can easily go all day without talking to anyone. In the end it feels like a successful day.

      But is that how I want to live? Is that how I should live? After reading Swoboda, I wasn’t so sure.

      It reminded me of my experience during the spring of 2020 when the world shut down due to Covid-19. For me, working from home under quarantine was easy. My friend, Sam, wrote to me: “Your quarantine sounds like heaven to me.” He was correct. I’m one of those people who is not only content being alone most of the time, but who go out of their way to ensure solitude.

      But this morning’s Iron Men discussion caused me to reconsider the importance of personal relationships. For all my talk of solitude, I cherish close friends and companions. I can’t function intelligently or creatively all by myself. I need back-and-forth exchanges, to bounce ideas, ask questions, or tell stories to friends.

      So, this morning, after reading from The Dusty Ones, I left my favorite booth and went to the grocery store to buy accessories for dinner. Like A. J. Swoboda, I enjoy using self-checkout because it’s faster and more efficient.

      Except, today, for the first time in about five years, I walked past the self-checkout corral and got in the Express 15-Items-Or-Less Line. (I know it should be 15 Items or Fewer, not Less, but I’ll leave that battle for another day.) I was very proud of myself for choosing to stand in line, and I prepared for eye-to-eye contact and friendly banter.

      But wouldn’t you know it. The customer in front of me had thirty-five items (yes, I counted them) and used five coupons. I couldn’t believe it. Here I was trying to do the right thing and be neighborly and personal, and now I’m in line behind someone who couldn’t care less about social norms. It occurred to me that God was putting my new plan to the test, to see if I was really committed to change.

      Well, feeling convicted, I waited patiently. And so did the young checker-outer. She was unperturbed by the conscious breach of the 15-Item rule; she smiled and did her job. When it was my turn, with my seven items, we both smiled and exchanged our “Thank you and have a great day” conversation. I felt good about my personal contact. Maybe this experiment will stick.

      I can’t promise to never use the self-checkout again. It’s too convenient, and sometimes I’m in a hurry, and sometimes I forget my good intentions and follow long-established habit patterns. But I’m planning to try to make more eye contact and exchange personal conversations going forward.

“I run in the path of Your commands, for You have set my heart free.” Psalm 119:32

Four Milestones

      How do you celebrate personal anniversaries? Do you include everyone for a giant blowout, or do you prefer quiet personal affairs?

      I was out walking one morning a couple of weeks ago when I reminded myself of four looming milestones arriving in my life. I named them “10-20-40-70” so I would remember them when I got home. I wanted to celebrate them all. I hoped they were lead-ins to more and greater milestones in my future.

- - - - - - - - - -

      I’ve been reading a book by Robert Wolgemuth titled Gun Lap, about how we should live the last lap of our life.

      The gun lap, the final sprint of a track race, is often signaled by firing a starter’s pistol as the race leader begins the lap. It’s easy for distance runners to lose track of how many laps they’ve run, so the sound of the gun reminds them the race is almost over and it’s time to speed up and finish well.

      The author quoted J. I. Packer, who wrote: “My contention is that … we should aim to be found running the last lap of the race of our Christian life, as we should say, flat out. The final sprint, so I urge, should be a sprint indeed.”

      Our final lap doesn’t have to mean life is almost over. My first marathon, the Golden Yucca, was three 8.7-mile loops, so the last loop, the gun lap, was 8.7 miles long, or 1/3 of the total distance. I don’t know if the race director fired a gun when the leader passed since I was at least an hour behind him, but extrapolating that extra-long lap to my remaining years, if I plan to live to 100, 1/3 will be 33 years. I started my gun lap last year when I turned 67.

      Robert Wolgemuth said one of the questions that haunts men and women entering their gun laps is, “Are there goals still to be attained?” I wrote in the margin of my book: I hope so. I hope I’m still setting new goals every year.

- - - - - - - - - -

      Here are some thoughts from my morning walk about those milestones. I’d love here your ideas.

      Ten: Next year will be my 10th year anniversary with after-market knees. I’ve hiked twice on them above 12,000’, skied on them, cycled with them, and walked hundreds of miles with them (including 100K in six days on the Camino in Spain). They’ve served me well, and I want to celebrate them. What if I took a hike on Truches or Wheeler or go on a weeklong backpacking trip? I feel like it should be something physical since these knees gave me a second life.

      Twenty: 2024 is our 20th year of Iron Men. How should we celebrate? How should we reinforce the friendships we’ve made and lessons we’ve learned together?

      Forty: Sometime in late summer or fall of 2025 I should cross the 40,000-mile threshold of total miles run (or walked) since I started in June 1978. How should I celebrate? Should I enter a big race – a half-marathon or a marathon? Or take a personal approach and ask people to join me as I walk the 40,000th mile around the ponds in my neighborhood. Since 95% of my miles have been travelled alone, it might be time to ask for company. We could go eat pizza afterward like the old days in the Permian Basin Road Runners Club.

      Seventy: In June 2026 I’ll turn seventy years old. I have more time to think about this milestone, but the basic question is the same – how should I celebrate? Is there a traditional celebration for turning seventy? Do I really care about something traditional?

- - - - - - - - - -

      My list of 100 Life Goals still has plenty that remain unaccomplished. Maybe I should take advantage of these milestones to cross a few off my list. Many of them are long-term goals, and others involve travel and family, but I have a few physical goals remaining, such as: weigh 175 lbs.; bench press 250 lbs.; and do my age in sit-ups, push-ups, pull-ups. Should I work these into my 10-20-40-70 adventure? Are they even doable at my age?

      I suppose I will have a shot at 175 lbs. if I simply stop eating, but it hasn’t worked for me so far. I haven’t weighted as little as 175 since junior high. It isn’t so easy or I’d’ve already accomplished it.

      I doubt I’m willing to put in the effort to bench 250 lbs., assuming it would even be possible. I would probably need to hire a coach or a trainer to bag this one.

      And while I can do my age in sit-ups today, it’s been years since I could do my age in push-ups. Even worse, I’ve never been able to do my age in pull-ups - it's hard to imagine doing that now.

      However, to quote Seth Godin, “So far and not yet are the foundation of every successful journey.” Maybe it’s too soon to start ruling out Life Goals without first giving them a serious try.

- - - - - - - - - -

      There’s a saying that a man walking through a cotton field doesn’t come out wearing a suit of clothes. Few significant things happen on their own.

      In my life, good things are more likely to happen if I plan ahead, so I’m working through options to celebrate each one of these milestones. I welcome any suggestions you may have for me. What do you think I should do?

- - - - - - - - - -

“I run in the path of Your commands, for You have set my heart free.” Psalm 119:32

Worship in any Language

I didn’t expect Sunday morning to be so emotional for me. I was especially surprised by the giant tears rolling down my cheeks before the worship service even began. Three women were singing to a backing track to Jesus Messiah, by Chris Tomlin. They were warming up for the service, which would begin in about thirty minutes. Our band had already set up, and warmed up, and we were sitting in our designated seats in the first two rows, patiently waiting. That’s when I was ambushed by the music.

I’ve heard this song many times, and played the orchestra part, so it shouldn’t have been such a surprise. But hearing these women sing it in Italian caught me off guard.

Not because Italian is such an expressive and romantic language, which it is, but because it wasn’t English. It wasn’t the language I’m used to.

I get so lost in my own teaching and my own writing and my own reading and study, I forget God does Italian, too. And Hungarian. And Spanish. And Hebrew.

Later, during the actual worship service, the power of those Italian praise songs (that I assumed were English-only praise songs) hit me again. It was a straight shot to my heart. They sang “Che nome potent el” (What a Beautiful Name, by Ben Fielding and Brooke Ligertwood).

Once again, God have me a peek into how big He is, how unhindered by language He is. How geographically unbound He is.

God is so much more. So much bigger

- - - - -

Cyndi and I are in Casoria, Italy, very near Naples. We are here with the Global Missions Project’s Metro Big Band, where we’ll play in several churches and a couple of bars. This is our fourth trip with this group; it’s a ministry we love, and we love to be part of. And one of the reasons we like doing this is because we’ve seen God use music in mighty ways to pierce hearts and open minds.

I just didn’t expect the pierced heart and opened mind to belong to me.

On The Road Again

      When people learn I’m a cyclist their first question usually is: “Do you feel safe riding in Midland traffic?”

      My usual answer is: “Safe enough. I’m careful when choosing my routes. And besides, every crash I’ve had has been my own fault. I can’t blame any of them on traffic.”

--------------------

      So, Tuesday, September 17th, I had a bike crash while turning north from Valley Quail Road onto Scaled Quail Road, in the new neighborhood north of Midland Classical Academy. Even though I saw a very small bit of standing water in the intersection and slowed down accordingly, my back wheel slid out and I hit the pavement. Straight down, no sliding, no road rash. It was a turn I’ve made hundreds of times, always carefully, because there is often standing water.

      After I untangled from my bike and stood up, I noticed immediately I had chipped at least one tooth (it turned out to be two). Since my bike still worked and I felt OK, I decided to ride back home. Until I looked down at my right knee. It had a large and deep gash running crossways across my kneecap. I knew I shouldn’t try to ride home on that. Even though it didn’t hurt, pedaling with it might worsen the situation, and the blood running down my leg would freak out the carpool drivers lined up in front of MCA.

      I reached for my cell phone to call Cyndi while pushing my bike to a nearby intersection, at Fairfield and Mayfield, where I thought it would be easier for her to find me. As I made my phone call, a young boy walking home from school was standing in the street staring at my knee. His friends, probably both older sisters, yelled for him to get on home, but he stood staring. Finally he took off running down the street.

      Cyndi pulled up and we loaded my bike into the back of her car. As I walked around to get in the passenger seat, I noticed the boy was back, with the two girls. They were all standing in the middle of the street staring open-mouthed at my gashed and bleeding knee.

      “Is he going to be alright?”

      Cyndi said, “We’re going to take care of him right now.” And of course, she did. On the way to Vital Care clinic, Cyndi phoned our dentist and made an appointment to have my chipped teeth repaired.

      At the clinic, several PAs examined my knee. “How fast were you going?”

      “I don’t remember. Does it really matter?”

      “If you were going faster than 25 mph, it would change the treatment protocol.”

      “Only in my dreams. I’m sure I was turning the corner at less than 10.”

      “I can stitch that up for you, but since you have an artificial knee, you should go to an emergency clinic. They can do more to prevent infection.”

      Cyndi drove me to SignatureCare Emergency Clinic. They took me back to an examining room where a nurse cleaned my leg. “What is your pain level on a scale of one to ten?”

      “At most, two.”

      Dr. Marks squirted something called numbing agent into the wound. It was intense. It turned out to be the only actual pain I had during the entire event. “Sorry, it usually stings a bit before it starts numbing.”

      “No kidding,” I said while gripping the sides of the examining bed and clenching my chipped teeth.

      They took a CT Scan of my head to see if I had a concussion. I had several scrapes on my face which worried them more than they worried me. Of course, I couldn’t see the scrapes. Fortunately, the scan didn’t show any damage. Still, it’s always risky having your head examined. Who knows what they might find.

      Then they X-rayed my knee to see if anything was broken or out of place, but they didn’t find anything.

      Back in the examining room they irrigated the gash and Dr. Marks stitched it up while I watched. She did a great job, and I felt no pain at all.

      And now, five days later, I’ve had my teeth repaired (sooner than expected) and I’ve had no swelling or stiffness or pain. The emergency clinic staff expected my face and my knee to be sore and swollen, but they aren’t. Neither one. I can walk on my leg, even around the park across the street. My right knee feels a little stiff, but mostly from the bandage rather than from the stitches.

      Cyndi took care of me, of course. She’s been very patient with my recovery and my talk of riding again. I’m lucky to have her on my side. In fact, Cyndi did more than simply rescue me and drive me around town. She helped me make expensive decisions at the emergency clinic and the dentist’s office when I clearly wasn’t at my best. Not only that, but she patiently smiles when I tell my crash story over and over. 

      My plan is to take my bike into the shop for a check-up to make sure it’s OK, and replace my helmet since I clearly collided with the ground. I won’t ride again until my stitches are removed, but after that I’ll be back training for the RIDE TO END ALZ fundraiser in Wimberly in November with my brother, Carroll. I don’t want to miss that.

      If you would like to know more about the RIDE TO END ALZ or make a contribution to either my ride or Carroll’s ride, just follow these links. We’ll be grateful for your participation. We lost our mother to Alzheimer’s, and we’re proud to ride in her honor.

--------------------

“I run in the path of Your commands, for You have set my heart free.”
Psalm 119:32

Money For Nothing?

      Yesterday I heard a radio story on BBC about Strava Mules. (Strava is a phone app that tracks your running and cycling with GPS, and allows you to share with, compete with, and track (audit) your friends.) According to the BBC, a Strava Mule is someone who carries a phone belonging to another person so they can record a run or ride and the phone’s owner gets credit. It's a way to get bragging rights without having to put out the effort.

      I could loan my phone to some young flatbelly cyclist and send the data to my brother and tell him it was me, but I doubt he would be impressed. He’s too smart. He’d know right away it was too fast to be me.

      Why would someone do that, I wondered. Not – why would they carry someone else’s phone – but – why would they want someone else to run for them? What’s the point of being a runner or cyclist if you don’t do your own miles?

      Is this so they can convince their friends they’re much faster than they really are? As in, did you notice my blistering pace last week?

      Are they motivated the same as people who buy likes on social media, going for image over substance?

      Are they looking for an alibi? As in – “I couldn’t have robbed the bank,” or “cheated on my spouse” – I was running, and here is data to prove it. Their Strava Mule could send texts and take photos during the run for even more evidence.

      The BBC said Mules in London charge forty pence per mile to complete a marathon. That would be about fifty cents per mile in the USA, or $13 for an entire marathon. I can’t imagine someone running an entire marathon just to earn $13, but if they’d planned to run the marathon anyway, why not earn back some of their entry fee? They could carry a dozen phones in their fanny pack to not only cover their own entry fee but make a profit.

      I mentioned my new discovery to Cyndi, telling her I finally discovered a way to monetize my daily runs.

      “Are you still running?”

      “Well, no. Nowadays I walk.”

      “And do you go out walking daily?”

      “Not exactly. Mostly. But that’s not my point. Had I been a Strava Mule from the very beginning of my running career, I could have earned as much as $19,000 by now. Assuming both Strava and cell phones existed in 1978 when I started. And that doesn’t include the money I could’ve earned from cycling miles.”

      At that point, one of us might have mentioned that all of my miles since 1978 have been too slow for anyone to want recorded on their Strava database. But then it occurred to me that endurance athletes are supposed to take rest days, or at least low intensity days, to let their body recover from all those workouts. Most don’t want to take days off and most don’t. It feels counterproductive even when we know it helps, even when a coach insists that we do it.

      So maybe I could be their Strava Mule for those rest days and they could show the data to their coach, “Here, see how slow I was going, very low intensity.” Then they’d get credit for following the coach’s orders all while really running another speed workout on the sly.

      I realize recording slow data is a niche market, at best, but if anyone out there who might be reading this is interested, let me know. I’m available to record some low intensity miles for you. Fifty cents per mile, one dollar minimum.

--------------------

“I run in the path of Your commands, for You have set my heart free.”
Psalm 119:32