Magic

Yesterday was amazing. Magic. I don't precisely know what made it so, but there was something that bound the day's thread of awareness together like a taut double-bowline. To coin the popular vernacular, cool shit happened. And happened often. 

I didn't win the lottery because I don't play. No bright, talented, stable and athletic lady asked me out for an Italian dinner. I took no drugs and enjoyed a single glass of malbec late in the day. There was little call for hubris from the weather. I did not beat my nephew at chess. 

What then?

You. The magic of you. It seemed to me that every interaction, almost every conversation, each exchange contained a tiny wisp of wisdom. It was as if all I had to do was prime the pump and the anecdotal fountains would flow. Experienced shared, efforts compared, lessons learned. All day. And, perhaps surprisingly, not all of the same subject matter. 

Although maybe because of it. When we quoted Gandhi yesterday about Good Health being True Wealth, is started a flow of consciousness that spiraled outward, under its own power and with massive momentum. It was presented in class as a suggestion, an option, something to consider as we evoked endorphin flow to stimulate physical adaptation through intervals of high intensity and subsequent recovery. To this there was an immediate, electric group response. I will tell you this from my experiences as both a lecturer, a comedian and a group leader, that NOTHING is more satisfying (and nerve calming) than a unanimous and spontaneous group laugh. The opposite of that is what is known as death on stage. I have been there and let me tell you folks, root canal sans novocaine is more fun. But yesterday it all worked. We rocked, we rolled, we worked hard, toasted some K-cals and we laughed together. There was undeniable value for all. Even the staunchest of the reo-cons admired its social-ism. 

That positive momentum we generated stayed with me the entire day. We talked about the hero's journey, of valor, of inspiration, of responsibility, the value of community, team work, the subjectivity of perceived exertion and the objects of our desires. We talked about the zen of washing dishes by hand. We traded the secrets of commerce. We pitched ideas to the gate keepers of the deep pocketed hoping they would be caught in high-towered board rooms. We adjusted our creative caps, twisting them till the angle felt 'just right'. We flirted a little, tossing compliments just for fun, returning smiles and sharing reckless joy. We paid bills, our dues, and sighed in relief that the cost of living left us with enough for a last laugh. 

You can take my money. You can take my house. You can take everything I own. 

But you cannot take my health and my spirit. With those two I will rebuild, I will return to the fight. I will be back. Stronger than before. More experienced, wiser and with an army that is likewise ready to rumble. Ready to live. Ready to love and ready to laugh. 

That army would be you. 

This is a call to arms folks. I need you to be strong. To commit. Now. Let's do this thing. Let's take charge of our health and fitness. We can control that. It is our destiny. 

And I dare to call that Magic. 

A sampling of video collected yesterday as we ran the gamut of emotion.

An excellent study on the value of high intensity intervals in cycle training.

An outstanding video of the Brownlees and their coaching staff. 

One poignant scene, among many, from Godfather III. This last one comes with my editorial footnote that Vincent is doing his duty, being loyal to Michael, and trying to protect Mary. When he closes his eyes (pic) he is opening his heart to her. That is what makes his next line so powerful and devastating. That and the cut-away to Michael. Magic of the Movies.