Tag Archives: walking


Passed out on the couch at 11 last night. Stumbled my way upstairs only to wake up fully at 3. I snuggled my wife for a bit and then by 3-5 acknowledged slew wasn’t happening so I stopped trying.

Came downstairs. Did 2 hours of work. Then jumped on the treadmill for 6.5 miles. All by 6am.I’ve stopped fighting what my body needs. If it’s telling me to sleep, I sleep. If it’s telling me to get up, I get up.

I’m also trying to translate what my body actually needs from what I want to give it. Like…when am I confusing hunger for thirst?


I’ll likely take a nap during the day at some point. What I live about the pandemic lifestyle and our global client base and team, is I can always be on. Because someone I work with and support is on somewhere.

The flip side of that is liberating. I use the fact that “I can always be on” as a way to let people know I need to be deliberate about taking space.

#iamgrateful and #iamthankful for that flexibility and that ability. To take space. And to listen to what my body is telling me more and more.

Instead of resisting, get out your surfboard and saddle, harness, tame and ride those waves. Especially on a snow day when you know the next 16 hours are going to be relentless bandying between work and kids.

Good luck, parents!

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I’ve fond memories of my Dad coming home from work and retreating to his room for 15-20 minutes every night. Door locked. Something from channel 6 on TV (news, Jeopardy, Wheel of Fortune).

And I’d hear footsteps. Like someone jogging in place. Sometimes I’d have a question that couldn’t wait and I’d have to knock on his door. Or he’d have a phone call that couldn’t wait (it definitely couldn’t, there was literally no call waiting at the time).He’d run over to the door and open it. Working out in his room. Still jogging in place. While answering me or taking that call.Trying to be healthy in the space he could make.

Dad never spent money on himself. No treadmill, bike, anything. Every time someone tried to get him something he made them return it. Between work, commuting, coming home and spending two hours with his mom, my ba, who couldn’t walk, in her room. Years of this right routine.

He worked out in a 2’ x 4.5’ strip of carpet between his side of the bed and his dresser.

May be an image of screen

Daddy lived to 77 because he made space for himself. So he could make himself available then to everyone else who needed him.

And it worked.

My life is different. I work from home. I’m not as modest in spending on what I need. The financial and social and familial pressures are much less than what he faced.

But I’m still not as good at making time to exercise.

I’m better at excuses.

Today I found myself doing what a modern day version of my dad at 45 may have done or atleast approved of. A 2.0.Treadmill.Workstation.And Cobra Kai.

That last one is super important.

My dad took me to see Karate Kid on a Sunday night because I just had to go see it.

After a Sunday workout by his bed. Skipping his Sunday night tennis. He took the little space he had and then made space for me. He skipped his own weekly tennis indulgence and made space for me.

May be an image of text that says 'Cobra Kal 0 T'

#iamgrateful and #iamthankful for this lesson clicking. Some 30+ years later. Sparked by my home setup. Which took me down a wormhole of memories, bringing me out to another unique layer of respect and appreciation for my Daddy.

That’s the power of teaching lessons with your actions. The lessons still get taught. People don’t always remember being taught them. You acted well, Dad. Impeccably always.

It appears I may have picked something up. Finally.

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TMLFYI… | Promise Full


I’m excited that you’re actually going to take a vacation. You’ve earned it. For 6.5 months you’ve never been more than a few minutes away from me for more than a few hours. That’s extraordinary. That’s commitment. That’s who you are. That’s one of the things I know Daddy hopes I get from you (as well as your stunning and timeless good looks.)

I know you have some anxiety, also. Maybe I’ll start crawling? Or maybe I’ll say my first word? Or maybe I’ll start freestyling over a wicked beat laid down by none other than Eric B? Maybe I would have, but I want to take the pressure off of you and make sure you focus on you while you’re in Mexico. So here are some of the promises I’m making to you before you leave:

  • I promise not to crawl. If I do, you’ll never know. Because we won’t talk about it. We won’t photograph it. We won’t acknowledge it. So it won’t happen. But even if it does, it never happened.
  • I promise not to say my first word. Now, that means that there’s a high likelihood that my first word will be Daddy instead of Mommy, but I think you’re happy with that trade-off, right?
  • I promise not to immerse myself too much in hip hop culture. It’s a promise I’m making but I can’t be held responsible for Daddy and his desire to start playing those hip hop lullabies he got from his friend at work last night.
  • I promise not to walk. Mostly because you have to crawl before you can stand, and you have to stand before you can walk. Those lessons apply to me but apparently, they also apply to businesses looking to pursue hypergrowth — like where Daddy works.
  • I basically promise not to do anything new until you get back. I got you, Mommy. I totally got you.

The one thing I promise to do is miss you like hell when you’re gone, dream about you until you get back, and smile like hell the second I see you. I know it’s going to be the best and biggest smile you’ve ever seen, because it’s going to be driven by how I’ll feel when that moment arrives.

So go have a blast, Mommy. Have the time of your life in Mexico and squeeze every bit of fun and relaxation out of every moment. Because we’re going to have a lot of firsts happening the moment you get back.

Love you,


Mommy and Anaiya PNG


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TMLFYI… | Happy Trailing

Anaiya Joovy

I’m a bit without words. We’ve seen you roll. To and fro, from your belly to your back and then in reverse. We’ve watched you spin on your side, in plain view on your playmat or through the baby monitor in your crib.

But today, we put you in your Joovy Spoon and we watched you move, all on your own.

Sure, it was backwards. Sure it was obvious that your feet come in contact with the floor only with extraordinary stretching and reaching on your part, and even then, every 3rd or 4th attempt. But that whole backward, thing is just ok. Know that. Because, isn’t that life, baby? A few steps back before you catch yourself and propel yourself forward to meet the world? And when you do, we know, it truly is “look out world.”

Happy trails to you, my love.

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