So introduces today's Saturday Segment. After a rollicking' hour this morning in the House of Mirth (our Indoor Cycling studio), where, after what I thought was a fair and balanced introduction to 'one of the silliest, sappiest and completely corny rock 'n roll songs of all-time' I was instructed to 'never play that song again'. Yikes! I will allow you to pause here in the attempt to deduce what song (from 1965) could possibly have elicited such an ultimatum.
Waiting.
Still waiting.
I took the opportunity to reinforce our definition of the state of grace we call the Groove Zone by reminding those gathered about the power of change. Of us needing the dedication and discipline to ignore distraction and accept extrinsic circumstances as tests of our commitment, resolve and growth. Seriously, I continue, now building momentum to add whatever credibility and character testimony to the pop ditty possible, what do we do when the wind blows too hard, or the rain soaks us too deep, or the sun burns too hot or (gasp) somebody whistles a tune out of key and way too shrilly? Right! We accept it with peace, respect its presence and steadfastly move along. We will not be distracted from doing what must be done. We do not assign it power by allowing it to 'get in our head or under our skin.' An ancient Arab saying suggests that 'Dogs bark but the caravan moves along.'
Here is the song.
Here is the dot connection between the intro, seeking truth and the story telling of diversity and the magnitude of the human experience. It is called Tracking. From Phish's incredible Hoist, released 25 years ago yesterday.
Many times when I get off on the tangents and stray from the well-traveled path of indoor cycle training, there is, as I confessed this morning after the slap in the face of my musical experimentation, risk. And with risk comes great rewards, experience or...disaster. I am more than willing to take that risk. I seek it out. I want to jam with it in the hope of finding something outside, above or well beyond my current levels of understanding. There is a zone light years away from the twilight. What happens when we fail? Is there value in the attempt?
Think of your favorite musician, or band. What traits, skills or musical risks did they take to get to where they are today - in your heart and head? Did they risk and move away from the standards, add other layers to stale three-chord progressions and road-test time signatures other than 4/4? Of course they did.
Did they sometimes fail? Absolutely. Did they quit and go home because of it? No, they went back to the studio, plugged in, counted it down and took it from the top. Gaining the enormous experience of their process along the way. This has so many tangents, parallels and utilities available to us as motivation.
Music is one concept I can report on with 100% certainty of truth. There are an infinite number of stories about the diversity and magnitude of the human experience, some of the most interesting still untold, available for our consideration. It is like going to the record store and flipping through the vinyl. Sometimes you find that diamond in the rough, sometimes something new, and other times a completely different approach, genera or interpretation. You want my definition of hell? Every song is the same.
We choose to match all this up with our indoor cycling. And see what happens. We take risks. We climb hills hard. We enjoy every challenge. We embrace failure.
A lot of pedal rotations separate Herman's Hermits from Phish. Some safe and secure of low intensity and flow. Others flat out rock. We deal with it. We stay focused and allow little extrinsic distraction. This is our practice.
Makes a bloke feel so proud.
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