How To Succeed Like Kobe Bryant (Even If You're Getting A Bit Old To Play Basketball)

(originally published September 22, 2015. My original blog, on Wordpress, was hacked in early 2016. All of the original posts, through January 2016, have been re-posted here on Blogger.)

Kobe Bryant is one of my son’s heroes. Not surprising, since my son eats, sleeps and breathes basketball. My son first became enthralled with the sport as a little boy when we lived in Springfield, Massachusetts, the birthplace of basketball. We made the pilgrimage countless times to Springfield’s Basketball Hall of Fame to learn about the legends of the game. At first, I was the one explaining to him who was who – Larry Bird, Wilt Chamberlain, Magic Johnson. He figured out who Michael Jordan was on his own.

Now the tables are turned. My son is a teen, playing for an elite youth team sponsored by Jerusalem’s professional basketball team. He knows every player, past and present, who ever dribbled a ball for the NBA, along with all of their statistics. He knows most of the players in the Euroleague too.

My son has his heroes, the players who stand out in a sea of formidable talent, the role models who never stop trying to improve their game long after they’ve reached the top. Kobe Bryant is one of them.

Kobe Bryant has become my hero too. As a 50-year old amateur runner trying to rack up five marathons this year, Kobe has taught me that age can sometimes be an advantage.

The scene is the 2012 Olympic Games held in London. The U.S.A. Olympic team included the best of the best of the NBA. Of all the superstars on the team that year, Kobe Bryant, at the ripe old age of 33, was the most senior. He had a full decade on many of his teammates, who had taken to calling him “OG” – Original Gangster.

As related by his personal trainer, Tim Grover, a reporter asked Kobe whether he thought he could learn anything from his younger teammates.

Kobe’s got to the point right away: “No.”

The reporter pressed, “You know everything?”

“I don’t know if I know it all,” Kobe responded, “but I know more than they do.”

The younger players had a level of quickness and energy that an older player would find hard to match. But Kobe had years of experience working meticulously on every detail of his game. Kobe had tested every play in real time in hundreds of games and thousands of scenarios. That’s something no younger player could ever bring to the table.

Or, as Tim Grover bluntly put it, "A veteran player knows that his maturity and experience and seasoned instinct are priceless compared to that of a kid with fresh legs and a ten-cent head."

Youth, of course, can have its advantages. But Kobe Bryant was on to something when he flatly asserted that youth had nothing to teach him. As true as this may be of professional sports, where the agility of youth truly can make the difference between winning and losing, it is that much more true of our more sedentary daily pursuits.

Ironically, we live in a culture that increasingly worships youth at a time when the less young are able to age more gracefully, and perform far better for more years than ever before. All of the "sixty is the new fifty," "fifty is the new forty" and "ninety is the new eighty" is true. A generation or two ago, many doctors would have urged a 50-year old like me trying to run five marathons in a year to forget it – surely, there would too many medical risks.  Yet, not only am I not unique – I have found plenty of people well beyond fifty for whom running marathons is a routine matter.

I have nothing against youth – I even tried it once when I was younger. Rather, I think we are missing something as a society by looking too longingly at youth and failing to appreciate the gifts that only older people have to bring to the table.

In some fields, like high-tech, forty is over the hill and even thirty might be pushing it for some new start-ups.  I have several friends who have been laid off in their fifties. With no one willing to hire them at that age, some have used their considerable experience to launch thriving businesses and become successful consultants. The consultants are often sought out for their wisdom by companies who would never hire someone that age for their own staff.

Paradoxically, as age discrimination becomes more rampant, we have a larger and larger cadre of older workers who have a lot of value to offer and still have plenty of energy to burn. I have come across articles claiming that age and experience don't matter. Typically, they compare a smart, energetic young person who can learn a new job quickly with a lethargic, burned-out, older employee who hasn't learned one new thing on the job in the past twenty years. Of course, it's a false comparison – there's no shortage of young people who don't care about their jobs, and it's not hard to find older people who are still enthusiastic, learning and growing.

A true comparison would be between an enthusiastic young person and an enthusiastic older person. That's the Kobe Bryant scenario, where the younger person has much to learn from the older person's experience. So why the articles? Conveniently, most of them just happen to be written by young people with little experience to offer.

With youth comes speed. No matter what I eat or how much I work on my form, I don't run as fast as I did twenty-five years ago. But I run better. I run smarter. I run with more insight, greater awareness and fewer injuries. That's why I could run a 5K in less time at twenty-five, but at fifty, I can run five marathons. I've lost a bit of speed, but I've gained a lot of perspective.

We all have gifts to offer the world. Like Kobe Bryant, if approached with the right mindset, the gifts we offer can become greater with the passage of time. Virtuosity can come with youth. Greatness takes more time.

As Tim Grover, Kobe's trainer, says, "The greats never stop learning."

_________________________

I am running these five marathons for the amazing children and adults at the Israel Sport Center for the Disabled. We have set a goal of $5,000. Every donation of any amount makes a difference. Click here if you want to help us get to the finish line!

50 Ways To Count Your Blessings

(originally published September 13, 2015. My original blog, on Wordpress, was hacked in early 2016. All of the original posts, through January 2016, have been re-posted here on Blogger.)

Tonight is Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year. People from many backgrounds read my blog - Jews, Christians, atheists, agnostics, runners, swimmers and couch potatoes. Since being Jewish is central to my life, but not to the lives of many of my readers, I wondered whether to acknowledge Rosh Hashanah in my blog post this week, or simply write as I usually do about running, goal setting, and moving beyond our limits.

I opted to do both. What follows relates to Rosh Hashanah, but can apply universally to anyone from any walk of life.

Rosh Hashanah is, among other things, a time for deep introspection - who we are, what we’ve done, where we’ve succeeded and where we’ve come up short, what we must change in our lives and how we wish to move forward. The process contains a hint of the quality of secular New Year resolutions people make on January 1 (and usually break by January 31). But it goes much deeper. Although one can certainly resolve at Rosh Hashanah to go on a diet, drop ten pounds, and the like, Rosh Hashanah is much more about transforming oneself from the inside and looking at the big picture than it is about any particular short-term goals.

Rosh Hashanah serves as a kind of reset button - whatever lurks in the past, it is time to start over and embrace the life we are supposed to be living. Rosh Hashanah is not just the start of the New Year, but a celebration of the creation of the world - it is a time when Jews acknowledge God as the Creator of all and re-create their own lives in consonance with all of creation.

Before you can move forward, however, it is critical to acknowledge what you already have. When you are grateful for what has already appeared in your life, it is far easier to accomplish new things, develop new character traits and move beyond whatever is still lacking.

Many people, when they acknowledge something good in their lives, will say “I am lucky to have X.” In Judaism (and several other religions), one says, instead, “I am blessed to have X.” There is a world of difference between the two. To be lucky implies that things just happen. You were in the right place at the right time, nothing more. To be blessed, however, means that you were given something. You have something for which to be grateful.

Judaism even has a tradition of saying at least 100 blessings a day - the goal is to be constantly aware of the blessings we receive. In that spirit, and in the spirit of beginning life anew on Rosh Hashanah, I offer 50 people, things and experiences that have been a blessing in my life.

Why 50? That should be obvious - this whole blog is about celebrating life upon turning 50. So here are my 50 blessings - not in any particular order, certainly not meant to be an all-inclusive list, and definitely not all of equal importance:

1.    My Health. All of us take our health for granted, at least some of the time. We don’t appreciate being healthy until we’re sick. I am blessed with good health, which enables me to do all the things I do, and of course, to run five marathons this year.

2.    My Father. My father passed away in May, following a long illness. As I discussed in a previous blogpost, he had so many wonderful qualities that have helped shape who I am and the life decisions I make to this day. I miss his presence. But I feel blessed to have had such a loving relationship with him and to have had his example to guide me.

3.    My Mother. I am blessed to have a wonderful mother who also has set a great example for me throughout my life and continues to do so. I am blessed by our frequent phone conversations and regular visits.

4.    Living in Israel. Jews have yearned for almost 2,000 years to return to the land of Israel, and to live freely there in control of their own destiny. For many centuries, living in Israel was a dream for so many Jews that could not be fulfilled. I am blessed to be able to live in the modern and thriving state of Israel, to walk in the same places that Abraham, King David and many others walked, and to build a life here for myself and my family.

5.    Growing Up in the United States. As grateful as I am to live in Israel, I am also grateful to have grown up in the United States - a country with nearly boundless opportunity, a leader among nations, a country of nearly limitless diversity and beauty - and the best ice cream to be found anywhere.

6.    Coffee. Perhaps not on the same level as the previous five, but nonetheless, coffee is a blessing. There is nothing like the aroma and taste of a good strong cup of coffee first thing in the morning.

7.    Good Wine. Wine tends to be a blessing toward the day’s end. But it is still a blessing - especially so because drinking a glass of wine has health benefits.

8.    Chocolate. Unlike coffee or wine, chocolate has no time restrictions. It is a blessing any time of day. For all you chocolate lovers out there, this one needs no explanation.

9.    Beethoven Symphonies (and all other great music). As William F. Buckley, Jr. once remarked, “Life can’t be all bad when for ten dollars you can buy all the Beethoven sonatas and listen to them for ten years.”

10.  My Wife. Do I need to explain why my wife is a blessing? Should you need an explanation, I wrote about it here.

11.  My Son. One of the very greatest blessings in life is children. I have been blessed to watch my son grow up, to watch his passion for basketball flourish, to watch him mature into a wonderful human being, and best of all, to still have a great relationship with him even though he’s a teenager.

12.  My Daughter. Ditto for everything I said about my son - except that my daughter doesn’t play basketball and she’s not quite a teen. I am blessed to watch her develop into a wonderful young lady.

13.  Watching a Sunrise. Words cannot describe the transcendent beauty of a sunrise, the colors that leave one breathless, the feeling of hope that a new day has dawned, the feeling that all (or at least something) is right with the world. And for those who have experienced a sunrise, no words are needed.

14.  Watching a Sunset. Ditto - just going the other direction.

15.  My Home. I am blessed to live in a beautiful house on a secluded street - a path actually, with no cars. I enjoy eating in our beautiful kitchen, playing piano in our beautiful living room, and sitting outside drinking coffee (please see blessing number 6) surrounded by beautiful plants and trees. There is nowhere else I would rather call home.

16.  My Brother. Not everyone has siblings. My father didn’t. My wife’s father didn’t. I am blessed to have a brother, to have shared a childhood together, to speak on the phone and get together in adulthood, to always know he is there.

17.  My Relatives. As the saying goes, you can choose your friends but not your relatives. I have relatives I would choose anyway. From New York to Virginia to Florida to Texas to Illinois to North Dakota to Connecticut, there are people I am blessed to call family.

18.  My Friends. Yes, you can choose your friends, and I seem to have chosen well. I’ve always been the type to have a few close friends rather than many superficial ones. Quality is always better than quantity.

19.  My Neighbors. I really do think I live on the best block in the world. There are just over twenty families on my block - representing nearly a dozen countries, a full range of professions, and unlimited smiles and acts of caring.

20.  Traveling in Europe. I have experienced London, Paris, Budapest, Prague and Geneva. All beautiful, all historical, all wonderful. Not everyone gets to travel. Emerson may have thought that travel is a fool’s paradise - but it is a paradise, nonetheless.

21.  My Feet. Yes, you read that correctly. We rely on so many things that we never give a moment’s thought, until we can’t use them. Feet are one of them. Because of my feet I can run marathons, hike in the woods and walk with my children. Running these marathons for the Israel Sport Center for the Disabled, I’ve seen people who don’t have feet or legs. They accomplish amazing things anyway, but that just makes me appreciate my feet that much more.

22.  My Eyes. Eyes are another one of those little things we take for granted. With our eyes, we see great art, sunsets, our loved ones. We use our eyes to read, to build, to take in everything around us.

23.  Being a Musician. I started piano and clarinet when I was twelve, and I never stopped. I played clarinet professionally for several years. Although I no longer play professionally, being a musician is as much a part of me as breathing.

24.  My Music Teachers. I have been blessed to have had music teachers who not only taught me how to play an instrument, and how to understand music deeply, but also served as role models for life. I would not be who I am today without them. When you examine the experiences of people whose lives are on an upward trajectory, almost inevitably a caring teacher is in there somewhere.

25.  New England Music Camp. Tucked away on the shores of a shimmering lake in central Maine is a place that can only be described as magical. I was blessed to spend three summers of my youth there. Those summers helped shaped me and I often go back in my mind to that camp and that lake.

26.  My Grandfather’s Watch. When my father passed away in May, I received my grandfather’s pocket watch. My grandfather received it as a boy, back in 1913. The watch still works. My father would wind it dutifully, as a way of keeping the connection to his father. Now it is my turn to wind the watch and continue the chain.

27.  Time to Myself. Everyone needs moments of calm, moments they can call their own. I treasure every one of those moments as a blessing. Sometimes, those moments simply keep me sane. Sometimes they allow me to reflect on what is ultimately important. Sometimes they relax and refresh and enable me to enter the world anew.

28.  Reading. Through reading, I can learn new subjects, gain fresh perspectives, travel new worlds. What could be better than that?

29.  Writing. Writing has made it possible for me to publish my life story, to tell the stories of others, to inspire, persuade and inform. I am grateful for that ability and that opportunity.

30.  Springfield, Massachusetts. Springfield is the home of Dr. Seuss and the birthplace of basketball. It was also where I lived for four very pivotal years almost a decade ago. Not every place can be called a community. I was blessed to live in Springfield at a time that made it possible for my family to move in new directions and become who we are today.

31.  Jerusalem. While Springfield may have been a stopover, Jerusalem is forever. There is no city on earth like Jerusalem - no city with Jerusalem’s rich past or hope for the future. I am blessed to live just seven miles from this spiritual center of the world and to walk its streets often.

32.  New York City. If I had to pick a city beyond Jerusalem that I couldn’t live without, it would be the Big Apple. I was blessed to grow up just a short bus trip away from New York, to study music there in high school, and to have visited its parks, museums shops and neighborhoods more times than I can count. There is only one New York.

33.  Airplanes. Yes, even airplanes are a blessing. Airplanes have made it possible for me not only to travel, but to visit my family frequently even though I live half a world away.

34.  The Beach. Like sunrises and sunsets (numbers 13 and 14), you have to experience this one yourself to truly understand. The calm of the waves, the sweet salt smell of the air, the rhythm of the tides, the grittiness of the sand, the warmth of the sun. There’s a reason that beachfront property is so expensive.

35.  Efrat. I am blessed to live in a town where, like the Cheers song, “everybody knows your name and they’re always glad you came.” There is more caring per square inch in Efrat than any other place I have ever experienced. And the weather’s pretty good too.

36.  Childhood Memories. Some things we don’t appreciate until later on when we’ve gained some perspective. Only as an adult did I recognize all the fantastic childhood experiences I had - experiences that are now part of me for a lifetime.

37.  Pets. A cat sitting in your lap. A dog snuggling beside you. Unlike many people, pets love you unconditionally. And we all can use a bit of unconditional love from time to time.

38.  Living in These Times. For most of recorded history, people were shackled by the circumstances into which they were born. Only in modern times can we choose our profession, where we live, our goals, our destiny. Only in modern times can we traverse the globe, access virtually any information and use technology that can help us accomplish virtually any of our ambitions. Today, what we take for granted, kings and queens of previous centuries could not have even dreamed.

39.  The Internet. A subset of living in these times, but important enough that it is a blessing unto itself. With the internet we can write blogs, read the news from literally anywhere, learn virtually any new skill or subject, listen to historic performances, communicate with loved ones anywhere on the planet, start a business, and numerous other things I’m sure I’m forgetting (and yes, we can also use the internet to waste time posting what we had for breakfast on Facebook - but the choice is always ours).

40.  Food on the Table. Another one of those blessings we tend to take for granted. I have never had a time in my life where I have lacked for food. Often, I have had too much of it. I’m keenly aware that, sadly, that is not the reality for many others on our planet. The more with which we are blessed, the greater is our responsibility to help others gain those same blessings.

41.  Smiling. Smiling has to be the greatest invention known to mankind. When things aren’t going the way I want, I always have it in my power to smile. Recent studies have shown that our external body language actually impacts our internal state - both mentally and physiologically. Smiling can even lower your heart rate following a stressful event. What a blessing to be able to go from “down and out” to “on top of the world” just by moving your mouth muscles.

42.  Laughter. If you’re still not feeling great after smiling, laughter will almost always get you there. Some studies show that laughter can help you relax, boost your immune system, release endorphins and even protect your heart. In his famous book, Anatomy of an Illness, Norman Cousins relates how he conquered a serious and supposedly irreversible disease in part by training himself to laugh.

43.  Breathing. Of all the things we take for granted, breathing tops the list. Yet, while we can exist without water, food and even Ben and Jerry’s for extended periods, the same cannot be said of breathing. Every breath we take, literally, is a precious gift of life.

44.  Being Jewish. Many equate being Jewish with anti-Semitism, bagels, or B-level Catskills comedians. I see being Jewish as a great blessing - one that gives me access to one of the oldest and deepest spiritual traditions on the planet, one that gives me a sense of purpose and a sense of destiny.

45.  Great Views. Our world contains infinite beauty. Some - like the Rockies, Norwegian Fjords, or Caribbean beaches - are obvious. Much of it is less so. But beauty is there around every corner - if we just know where and how to look.

46.  GU. Runners of any reasonable distance know exactly what this is. For everyone else, GU is an energy gel designed to give a boost to athletes when they need it most. GU is not only easy to digest, but comes in wonderful flavors like Caramel Machiatto, Espresso and Chocolate Peanut Butter. GU might not seem like a blessing to you - but trust me, around mile 22 of a marathon - it’s a big blessing.

47.  Shabbat. Along with smiles and laughter (numbers 41 and 42), Shabbat (the Jewish Sabbath) has to be the greatest invention known to man. And unquestionably a fantastic blessing. One day a week to unplug, to be unchained from technology, to ponder the deeper reasons why we are here, to connect with family, to have a special space we can call our very own.

48.  Crisp Fall Days. The brilliant colors of the autumn leaves. The sweet smell in the air. The crisp feel that is not quite summer and not quite winter. A blessing I wish could linger on much longer.

49.  The Ability to Strive. What makes us uniquely human is that we can imagine a tomorrow that is better than today, and we can choose to make that tomorrow a reality. We are blessed by our ability to choose, to grow, to strive, to progress, to build our tomorrows from the ground up.

50.  People Who Care. No matter where you go, and often when you least expect it, there are people who care - people who will go the extra mile for you without expecting anything in return, people who will ask how you’re doing and genuinely mean it, people who will drop everything just to help. This is, perhaps, the greatest blessing of all.

_________________________

I am running these five marathons for the amazing children and adults at the Israel Sport Center for the Disabled. We have set a goal of $5,000. Every donation of any amount makes a difference. Click here if you want to help us get to the finish line!

The Zen of Running

(originally published September 8, 2015. My original blog, on Wordpress, was hacked in early 2016. All of the original posts, through January 2016, have been re-posted here on Blogger.)

5 a.m. Dark outside. Quiet. Just me, my feet, and my thoughts. For lack of a better word, it’s a “zen” moment. I’ve been having a lot of those recently.

Warning: the following paragraphs may be a bit warm-fuzzy-touchy-feely-just-short-of-silly. If that’s not you, there are plenty of articles on the web about kitchen appliances, the stock market, and how to stain your deck. If, however, you’re at home with the less quantifiable side of life, then please read on.

Johan Larsson, licensed by Creative Commons

As I was saying, it’s 5 a.m. and I’m already hitting the ground running – literally. I keep surprising myself. Anyone who knows me would never think to mouth the words “morning person” if asked to describe me.  Yet, as I wrote a few weeks ago, the unforgiving summer sun of the Middle East has forced me to choose between early morning runs or none at all.

While I have not grown to love getting out of bed at an hour when most sane people are enjoying a good night’s rest, I have grown to love what unfolds when I begin to run before the rest of the world has awaken.

The air is quiet – all around me is so still that I sense the slightest sound, the merest movement. The street lamps offer the only light to break the blackness before me. The birds puncture the silence with their pre-dawn conversation.  And then I offer my own contribution - the sound of feet on pavement. I begin to run.

Slowly at first. I’m not yet fully awake, and I would much prefer a good cup of coffee to the twelve miles of putting one foot in front of the other that lies ahead of me. I console myself with the thought of how good that coffee is going to taste once I manage to get through this.

At first, each foot lands heavily on the sidewalk, laboring sluggishly to make some progress. I try not to think about the next two hours or the many hills I have yet to climb or the pain my leg muscles will feel. At this point, I’m content just to move forward, employing my “mini-goals”strategy that I described a few weeks ago. I simply focus on running for the next two minutes, then two minutes after that. Sometimes I just run from light post to light post. If I think about anything beyond that, I’ll be tempted to stop and ease back into the house for that cup of coffee.  

Taking things a few steps at a time is a good strategy to get through a run, especially when the mind and body are still begging to return to a comfortable bed. Good, but not ideal. I’m getting the job done, but nothing more. There’s no flow. I’m not, as they say, in the zone.

But I continue, nonetheless – light post to light post, minute by minute. I still have only the light of the street lamps to guide me. But I also have my own cheering squad – the birds’ conversations have swelled into a chorus (or a cacophony, depending on one’s view point).

As the minutes pass by, gradually, almost imperceptibly, the world announces the start of a new day. The street lamps recede, replaced by a skyward haze that is neither dark nor light.

My town is still asleep, but it is beginning to stir as the sun struggles to vanquish the haze. A paperboy gets out of a car to make his morning deliveries. The sound of footsteps not my own comes into range, giving me the satisfaction of knowing that at least a couple of other runners are also crazy enough to be up at this hour.

I am running northward – toward Jerusalem. City of faith. City of hope. City of peace. And for me, city of dreams – that I am running in this special spot of the world, running where patriarchs and prophets, shepherds and kings also trod, is as surreal as any dream could be.  

I don’t notice exactly when I stop counting minutes and streetlamps, but a moment stealthily arrives when I’m just running. My feet connect to the earth. My breath connects to the air. My eyes connect to the path before me. Everything is as it should be.

A bus engine revs. A few car headlights pass me by. Then, the sound of more footsteps – not runners, but worshippers moving purposefully toward the first early morning service.

I scale the crest of a hill, and as I descend the other side, there it is before me – the sun is shimmering, half suspended over the next hill in a swirl of purple-yellowish-grey light. The world is waking up.

An hour passes by, and I’m now running in a different reality. From darkness to light. From stillness to busyness. Now, it is the streetlamps that lay dormant and the birds who are silent as car horns blare and children laugh as they trek to school.

I miss running in the quiet, but I’m almost done now. A few minutes later and I’m sitting in my kitchen, luxuriating in the aroma of that coffee as I take my first sips.

Like the coffee, life is not meant to be mindlessly gulped, but deliberately savored. Sometimes step by step. Sometimes in a continuous flow. Running in the just-before-dawn quiet has taught me how easy it is to stop noticing the beauty of it all once the noise starts. If we’re not careful, we can numb ourselves with the noise. We can get swept up by the din. We can lose ourselves in the bustle that swirls around us.

And many of us do. A pity, because the bustle is not reality. Our true selves lie beyond the din. Our purpose for being can never be discovered in the noise. Sometimes it takes running in the quiet of 5 a.m. to realize this.

 _________________________

I am running these five marathons for the amazing children and adults at the Israel Sport Center for the Disabled. We have set a goal of $5,000. Every donation of any amount makes a difference. Click here if you want to help us get to the finish line!

How To Know If Your Goals Are Too Small (Hint: They Probably Are)

(originally published August 30, 2015. My original blog, on Wordpress, was hacked in early 2016. All of the original posts, through January 2016, have been re-posted here on Blogger.)


I thought I was dreaming big, going way beyond my limits, reaching for the sky. To run five marathons within a year at age 50 is huge.

Or so I thought. It turns out that it’s not a big deal.

A neighbor recently loaned me UltraMarathon Man: Confessions of an All-Night Runner by Dean Karnazes. For some strange reason, my neighbor thought I’d be interested.  Never before has a book simultaneously inspired me and completely taken the wind out of my sails.

I used to think I was taking on something big. But compared to Dean Karnazes, running five marathons in a year is a stroll in the park. Compared to Dean Karnazes, even running five marathons in a month is a warm-up act.

Karnazes grew up an average student with above-average, although by no means off-the-charts, running talent. He worked hard at it and met with some success on his high school cross-country team. But after he was ridiculed by his high school track coach, he didn’t run another step for the next fifteen years.

Karnazes continued to work hard, though. In college, he still was an average student, but one who studied and studied, and then studied again. Karnazes didn’t think he was doing anything unusual, and sometimes was in awe of other students who seemed more gifted. That’s why he was so surprised to find out that he would be graduating at the top of his class. As my son likes to say about his basketball team, “Hard work beats talent – every time.”

Dean continued to work hard after college, achieving financial success in a sales career. But something was missing. When Karnazes turned 30, he had his mid-life crisis a bit early, wondering if there was something more to life than chasing after the next sales account. It turned out that that something was running.

He quickly picked up where he had left off fifteen years earlier, taking on a fairly rigorous running schedule. But things were to become more rigorous – much more.

While huffing and puffing up a hill near San Francisco, two young men bolted past him. As Karnazes continued to work his way toward the top, the two men ran down the hill and then sped past him to the summit again. Karnazes learned that they were training for the Western States 100, a beyond-grueling race through the mountains of Northern California held in the heat of the summer. Runners must traverse – you guessed it – 100 miles (actually 100.2, but who’s counting) through extreme weather, high altitudes, and some of the roughest terrain imaginable, ascending a total of 18,000 feet and descending 23,000 feet over the course of the race.

I don’t know about you, but if I came across two guys training for a race like that, I would wish them well, marvel at how some people can be a little crazy, and go back to what I was doing. Not Karnazes. He instantly decided that, yes, he too would get into peak condition to run the Western States 100.

Death Valley, site of the Badwater 135 mile run

To put this in perspective, running the Western States 100 is like running close to four marathons back to back under conditions that most marathoners will never see. Karnazes did what he had always done - he worked hard and got himself into shape for the race. he not only completed it, but over the following decade, ran nine more of them. He then ran Badwater a few times. Billed as "the world's toughest footrace," Badwater covers 135 miles, beginning in Death Valley, California, the lowest point in North America, and ending at the top of Mount Whitney. Oh, and the race takes place in late July when conditions in Death Valley are so extreme that the soles of a runner's shoes can actually melt from the heat of the pavement.

No, Karnazes didn’t stop there. Casting about for an even greater challenge, he found a 200-mile relay race. For the uninitiated, a relay race is run by a team of runners. Each runner covers a certain number of miles, meeting the next runner at a designated point, who then runs a set number of miles, and so forth until the team has collectively completed the full distance.

Not Dean Karnazes. He ran the race as “Team Dean,” comprising a team of one and covering the full 200 miles by himself. And yes, he also ran that race more than once. He even once finished the 200 miles and then turned around and ran an additional 26.2 miles – the distance of a full marathon.

As I said, reading about a guy who can run across entire states has been a downer, Actually, it’s ruined me. The other day, I went out for what I used to think was a long run – 2 ½ hours, about 15 miles. Some days, the running is harder than others, and this run was a struggle. So there I am, at about mile nine, berating myself because I need to work so hard. Before, I would have told myself that a little struggle is to be expected on a long run like this.

But now – now, I’m telling myself, “Come on. It’s only a 2 ½ hour run. It’s just fifteen miles.” Now I’m thinking that five marathons isn’t a big deal, and a training run that is over ten miles short of a marathon should be easy.

Yes, ruined me – but for the same reason, inspired me. If a guy with a bit of running talent can rack up over 200 miles in one go, then I, with no running talent, can probably manage 26.2 miles five times.

Don’t worry. I have no plans to run 200 miles, or 100 miles, or 50 miles, or anything beyond a marathon. The thought that my shoe treads could melt in the heat of Death Valley doesn’t particularly interest me, for some reason. I have plenty of obstacles to overcome just running five marathons. I don’t need more.

But all the same, I’m blown away by the thought that a human being could actually do this and live to tell about it. Learning about Dean Karnazes confirms my belief that we can accomplish exponentially more than we think we can – and not only in the physical realm, but in every part of life.

To take on a goal that seems beyond you isn’t easy – but it’s necessary if you want to get the most out of life. Or as Dean Karnazes puts it: “If you’re not pushing yourself beyond the comfort zone, if you’re not constantly demanding more from yourself – expanding and learning as you go – you’re choosing a numb existence. You’re denying yourself an extraordinary trip.”

Ok – I’m pushing, I’m pushing. And I fully plan to make it through these five marathons. Beyond that, I have all kinds of goals (that have nothing to do with running marathons). In the past, when I’ve set a goal, I would ask myself whether I could achieve it. I’m slowly realizing that that’s the wrong question. The question to ask is whether the goal is big enough in the first place, or whether I should be shooting even higher.

So what about you? What are your biggest goals? What are your greatest dreams?

Not sure if you could achieve them? As Dean Karnazes says, “Dreams can come true, especially if you train hard enough.”

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I am running these five marathons for the amazing children and adults at the Israel Sport Center for the Disabled. We have set a goal of $5,000. Every donation of any amount makes a difference. Click here if you want to help us get to the finish line!

The Secret To A Great Marriage

(originally published August 23, 2015. My original blog, on Wordpress, was hacked in early 2016. All of the original posts, through January 2016, have been re-posted here on Blogger.)

My wife is awesome. Usually, there’s no need to state the obvious. But I received some feedback last week after I wrote about turning 50 and the life lessons I’ve learned from various people along the way. How come, several readers inquired, I didn’t include my wife? After all, if I could include Bob Dylan, then shouldn’t my wife merit at least a paragraph?

No, my wife does not merit a paragraph. A paragraph would be horribly inadequate. She merits at least a book. But in the meantime, a full blog post will have to suffice.

I could say so many things about our twenty-five years of marriage. How we’ve grown together, celebrated each other’s successes, supported each other when times looked bleak, listened and shared our dreams and hopes, and communicated so deeply that words didn’t need to be spoken.

That truly would take a book. For now, I’ll focus on only one thing – running.

Yes, running. That’s also something we share. When Gayle and I first met, I had run only the 1 ½ miles around the track required for my Air Force Basic Training and annual fitness test. Gayle, on the other hand, was running three miles several times a week. I started increasing my distance, hoping I could work up gradually to what at the time seemed like a very ambitious three miles (ha, ha).

We started running together. They say the family that prays together stays together. Very true. Although it doesn’t rhyme as well, it's also true that the family that runs together stays together. Our half-hour runs became a time for just the two of us – to tell the other about our day, and talk about issues ranging from what we would have for dinner to our upcoming wedding plans. Running became that built-in quality time that many spouses and parents so desperately crave but find so elusive.

For some reason, our running together is unique. I’ve met a few other couples over the years who both run. But only a few. Typically, one spouse runs and the other shows no interest. That’s perfectly fine, and there are many other activities couples can share. Still, I’m surprised not to find more running couples, because it’s a wonderful way to be a couple.

Over the years, as we continued running, we developed our stretch goals together. When the idea came up to increase our distance and try a 10K in Jackson, New Hampshire, we did it together – and on our anniversary, no less. Then came our first half-marathon in Hartford, Connecticut. We trained for it together and ran it together.

Then came kids. As any parent knows, our lives changed forever, and we looked back at our childless years, wondering just how we could have thought we were busy then. Running together, except very occasionally, became impossible. So we trained separately, but we still ran our races together. When the time came to go for it and run a marathon, it was again a shared goal.

And that brings me to my latest goal to run five marathons this year as I turn 50. I’ve received a range of reactions, from admiration to non-interest to wondering if I might be a bit crazy. But here’s the truly crazy part – when I told my wife I had decided to run five marathons over the coming year, she said, rather matter-of-factly, “I think I’ll run them with you.”

It’s one thing if you say that you want to take a cruise, or try a new gourmet restaurant, and your spouse expresses a desire to join you. Expressing a desire to join your spouse to run 26.2 miles on five separate occasions is in a different category altogether.

But run these marathons together we do. We ran the Jerusalem Marathon together in March. In May, we ran Geneva together. We’ll be running Athens together in November. And in December, as our fourth marathon, we plan to run San Antonio together. (Our fifth marathon is still to be determined.)

Running the San Antonio Marathon has a special significance. San Antonio is where we met and married.  San Antonio also is where we started running together. So this will be a homecoming of sorts.

All the self-improvement gurus talk about dreaming big and taking on big goals. What most fail to mention is that working toward a big goal can be lonely, even isolating. All that time spent working toward your goal, thinking about your goal, figuring out how to achieve your goal. And then, when you are finally standing on the other side of your goal, although friends might offer their congratulations, few will be able to relate to what you’ve gone through or how you feel.

Fortunately, I don’t have that problem. My best friend and partner in life is sharing this goal with me. We’re both running all five marathons. We each know exactly what it means for the other to run this distance, from the first step at the sound of the starting gun to the last step over the finish line. For the rest of our lives, these marathons will be in our reservoir of shared experiences. And that makes all of it exponentially easier.

Gayle and I share many things. Running is only one of them. But running together all these years has created a powerful added bond, the kind of shared experience and understanding that is vital to any marriage.

I’m not saying that every couple should go out, get matching running shoes, and start racking up the miles together. Running isn’t for everyone.

I’m not even saying that couples should exercise together. I am saying, though, that couples should find some activity – whatever it may be – that they both like and that they can regularly do together.  It doesn’t really matter what – stamp collecting, bird watching, macramé, hang gliding, restoring antiques, miniature golf, making craft beer, floral design, motorcycling – the list is endless. The activity only need be interesting to both spouses and sustainable over the long-term.

Meanwhile, I’m going to go out for another run. I – or rather, we – need to keep training for our next marathon.  

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I am running these five marathons for the amazing children and adults at the Israel Sport Center for the Disabled. We have set a goal of $5,000. Every donation of any amount makes a difference. Click here if you want to help us get to the finish line!