Wise Words

I am completely and utterly obsessed with Pinterest¬†and while doing my daily skim, I came across some wonderfully wise words by the wonderfully wise Ghandi…

This list is something that I will keep with me as part of my Happiness Project (more details to follow…).

Eleanor x

 

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Tough Mudder!

Just watch this…

Yes, I’m doing it. No, I’m not crazy (well maybe a bit…). Anyway, I’ve signed myself up for Tough Mudder 2012 in Melbourne. Which gives me almost exactly 3 months to train to take on this mammoth task. Now, I’m relatively fit and pretty active but I am going to have to get in some serious training to be Mudder Tough by April 1st.

To take on Tough Mudder it is said that you should be running 2+ times a week, can do 15-25 push-ups in a row, 6 pull-ups in a row and are able to swim 45m without stopping. I’m getting there.

Tough Mudder Training

The recommended training regime includes running a distance of 8-10km about 3-4 times a week as well as taking on the Tough Mudder Workout three times a week which includes the following exercises (click here for more information as to what each exercise entails and proper technique):

  1. Running Man
  2. Tough Mudder Push-Up
  3. The Fist and the Fury
  4. Scissor Kick
  5. Back Row
  6. Dumbell Side Lunge
  7. Push-Up and Row
  8. Lunge and Twist
  9. Shoulder Press
  10. Decline Push-Up
  11. Quick Feet
  12. Tough Chin-Up
  13. Superman Plank
  14. Drunk Superman Side Planks
  15. Angelina Jolie
  16. The Tough Squat

I’m relatively fit, am a qualified personal trainer and dance around 3 times a week. Because of the style of dance that I train in (Pole and Aerial Hoop) I have a pretty decent amount of upper body strength. My major downfall is cardio – in particular, running. I hate running. I find it pretty boring, not to mention that after about 500m of running my knee often feels like it’s about to snap and give way for my femur to smash down onto my tibia. Not nice. Nevertheless, I’m trying.

I did my first 8km run/jog/walk/hobble a couple of weeks ago and, despite the crazy knee pain, it felt pretty good. Plus I ended up at this beautiful river…

My Reward

Not being a runner, it will obviously take a while to build up to running 8-10km, 3-4 times a week but I’ve been making a conscious effort to get out the door and do what I can whenever I can. Just this morning, while visiting my parents home, we took the dog down to the beach and went for a long walk and I ran along the sand with Woody.

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Woody!

I’ll keep you posted on how my training is going, wish me luck!

Eleanor x

My Mantra…

SUBJUNCTIVE

In the afterlife you are judged not against other people, but against yourself. Specifically, you are judged against what you could have been. So the afterworld is much like the present world, but it now includes all the yous that could have been. In an elevator you might meet more successful versions of yourself, perhaps the you that chose to leave your hometown three years earlier, or the you who happened to board an airplane next to a company president who then hired you. As you meet these yous, you experience a pride of the sort you feel for a successful cousin: although the accomplishments don’t directly belong to you, it somehow feels close.

But soon you fall victim to intimidation. These yous are not really you, they are better than you. They made smarter choices, worked harder, invested the extra effort into pushing on closed doors. These doors eventually broke open for them and allowed their lives to splash out in colorful new directions. Such success cannot be explained away by a better genetic hand; instead, they played your cards better. In their parallel lives, they made better decisions, avoided moral lapses, did not give up on love so easily. They worked harder than you did to correct their mistakes and apologized more often.

Eventually you cannot stand hanging around these better yous. You discover you’ve never felt more competitive with anyone in your life.

You try to mingle with the lesser yous, but it doesn’t assuage the sting. In truth, you have little sympathy for these less significant yous and more than a little haughtiness about their indolence. “If you had quit watching TV and gotten off the couch you wouldn’t be in this situation,” you tell them, when you bother to interact with them at all.

But the better yous are always in your face in the afterlife. In the bookstore you’ll see one of them arm in arm with the affectionate woman whom you let slip away. Another you is browsing the shelves, running his fingers over the book he actually finished writing. And look at this one jogging past outside: he’s got a much better body than yours, thanks to a consistency at the gym that you never kept up.

Eventually you sink into a defensive posture, seeking reasons why you would not want to be so well behaved and virtuous in any case. You grudgingly befriend some of the lesser yous and go drinking with them. Even at the bar you see the better yous, buying rounds for their friends, celebrating their latest good choice.

And thus your punshment is cleverly and automatically regulated in the afterlife: the more you fall short of your potential, the more of these annoying selves you are forced to deal with.

Sum: Forty Tales from the Afterlives by David Eagleman