Forget What You Knew

If you got an award or a degree 20 years ago and haven’t done anything with it except get good at reminding people of the knowledge and capability you had once upon a time ago you need to do all of the loving, supportive people around you a favor and stop.

Just stop.

In fact – let me take that a step further – if you have any accolades from 20 years ago that you achieved and you haven’t built on them, gone to the next level with them or used them to step into a current role you have now you should never ever EVER bring them up unless specifically asked about that period of your life.

Trust me - I’m doing you a favor. This is the help you need, not the help you’d ask for.

Your Accounting and Computer Science Degree from 1992 or your summer spent working at a Sandals resort in the Bahamas isn’t anything you can say you still know. 

Not now. Not with any certainty.

The entire world has changed so much so fast that you barely recognize it in its current form so it's delusional to assume you can contend with people who’ve made it their life's ambition to stay on the cutting edge of these things.

That thing that was your life a few years back? It's your hobby now.

Nothing personal; it just is what it is.

In the murky swampmire that is my memory of another life lived and learned from there is a lean young man with hair longer than it should be for the fighting he’s done and the weapons he’s learned to use. This young man had fast hands, strong kicks and low stances. He was more flexible than you’d think he should be but carved out of wood. 

From the age of 12 until he was finished with High School he was dedicated to the craft. He spent hundreds of hours punching and kicking, holding stances and getting dressed in the dark and balanced on one foot to prove to himself that he could do this thing that many of the heroes he admired had already achieved: 

That coveted Black Belt

I stumbled across a picture of that young man a year ago and memories flooded back to me. Memories of working with calloused hands, splitting wood for the fire. Memories of running so hard my heart slammed against my ribcage long after I’d stopped.

It felt good at the time. I remembered that much.

The rest of that weekend I decided to do more. Find less reason to sit down or sit still. Think about things that I’ve needed to do for a while and just put physical effort into doing them. Carry the loaded laundry basket as far away from me as my arms can reach and walk like a crab when I do it. Do some pushups. Do more pushups with one of the kids on my back.

Giggles and endorphins aplenty. It felt great.

I passed up on carbs in favor of protein and water. I followed functional pattern exercise groups on social media and began working on how to use my limited free time to get back to stretching and punching and kicking and pretty stances and the balance of a… thing that has excellent balance.

When Monday came I went to work not with my travel mug of coffee – but with a much larger thermal cup of room temperature water.

When I got to work I decided 6 flights of stairs weren’t a problem for a black belt to climb, but climbing is for mere mortals. I could take them 2 at a time.

It was around floor 2 that I realized I have been out of it for longer than I was ever in it. Thankfully I stopped before my legs could give out.

There are some things you cannot just jump back into and it will benefit you greatly to come to grips with this now.

BEFORE you tell your kids you could still do a backflip off the back porch.

Or jump out of a tree.

Or pull 3 cartwheels in a row.

Or break a brick with one kick.

Return to these things you used to do – by all means – but do so with no expectation that are still the badass you once were.

It’s a new playing field out here and to borrow the words of a master far wiser that I : You can’t fill your cup until you empty what it has.

And if you try to explain to EMT’s who have to cart you away from your workplace that running up the stairs like you were was something you totally could have done 20 years ago, they’ll laugh you out of the hospital.

They’ll also charge you twice for the ride.