Chasing Demons

Another personal post with an interesting note on Beachbody. 2007 is when P90X finally hit and our coaching network took hold. As a company we still felt like a little guy with big ideas; like a kid with open eyes about the possibilities in a big world. While we’re much, much bigger now, I must say that the wonder hasn’t faded. The obesity epidemic may have turned but it’s far from over. There is still heaps of good, important work still to be done. Here’s a trip back in time...

The big news of the year has been Beachbody; my primary employer and, thus, my default responsibility. I had cut back my hours to work towards my PhD but was called back into full-time action, most serendipitously, as more of our products took off. Primarily responsible for this was P90X and, for those of you who’ve known me for a while will attest, this is a reward for a lot passion and hard work. We spent years developing this program only to find it tough to fit into the market. Perhaps it’s no coincidence that, along with its success, the obesity rate in the US has leveled off for the first time in four decades. Go us.

The personal side of this post was better than I’d remembered I recounted it, even though I can still remember the encounter very vividly.

Today I was chased by my demons. On a walk to an ancient mountain top fort I was, as usual, way ahead of everyone else when stir craziness hit me like it never has before. I couldn’t look at another tourist, another “guide”, beggar, peddler, or place filled with the masses living vicariously through things that had happened before them (not that there’s anything wrong with this, but I digress). So I took off, running, across the large plateau the fort is located on, through many of the old remains not inhabited, and then down into the most likely location to spot tigers in the wild on the planet...

I’ve dealt with plenty of animals in the wild, alone. But tigers scare me. I’ve met them face to face in controlled situations and never felt too comfortable. I don’t have the same rapport with cats as other mammals. In spite of this, I kept going. I needed to. I broke a branch off a tree and fashioned it into a gun, knowing tigers in populated areas are generally scared of guns. It helped. I continued until, jumping off a rock I turned my ankle on a rock hidden in the grass.

I knew it was pretty bad because I had to concentrate in order not to vomit. It wasn’t that bad, but I knew it was going to swell and I’d better turn around because it was going to slow me way down. And, oddly enough, being forced into even the slightest state of survival mode changed my mindset. I was at peace again; living life the way it feels right. I was born to live in a survivalist state. Instead of spending my life trying to make the word healthier, I should welcome its demise and hope for the apocalypse because that’s the society I would thrive in. But I don’t. I try to combat my demons in order to understand them. And thus, until recently, my life had been a series of failed attempts to somehow fit in...

The Sound Of Infinity

In reading these old traveling posts one thing is clear; I used to have more time to write. This stuff makes me feel a little guilty about my articles over the last few years but, hopefully, in their simplicity they’re more concise. Anyways, a lot of people told me this was their favorite article I’d written, at least about traveling. Upon review I’m not sure it’s all that, but it is a good yarn. I hope you enjoy it.

In my youth I read a lot about India, almost all of which centered on the spiritual. Stories of Imperialists were often rousing good fun but it was the sacred side of India that captivated me. The side the read the Upanishads, the place where Buddha become enlightened, where Maughm’s character from The Razor’s Edge finally exorcised “polite” society to discover the truth in life.

The India I finally arrived in was slightly different. A cacophony of sounds and smells perhaps unlike anywhere else on earth. If India is the spiritual center of the universe it must be because it’s so difficult to be spiritual here. Ones entire existence can easily be filled with nothing but distraction. Driving is more hazardous than a demolition derby. A simple walk can have you literally shaking beggars off your limbs. Your clothes become so dirty that you either wash them daily or just stop caring. For the average westerner, it’s a full scale assault on every one of your senses.

Training On The Road

One of our targets at Beachbody is taking the excuses out of working out. All of our programs feature modifications of the movements so that you’re able to do them wherever you are, which have gotten more clever and sophisticated over the years. P90X2’s “hotel room modification” is almost like a different program, that can be done virtually anywhere with a set of exercise bands. All of this makes interruptions for travel in the middle of an exercise program far less daunting.

Unfortunately we haven’t made a training program for cycling yet. My old school bike case meant my bike was in such a state of disrepair that I didn’t want to assemble it for a few days in Calcutta, making finding way to turn some cranks challenging.

On day one I headed down to Guru’s Dream Gym, which I’d written about back in 2007. It was great to see Guru thriving. Fast food and, with it, fat people have definitely come to India. It’s not near where America is but it’s noticeable, leaving Guru on the front lines of defense *

Just re-read the Guru’s post and it’s pretty good. Here’s an excerpt. Click for the whole thing.

Many trainers in the US promote one type of training above all else. Wild proclamations such as “that won’t work,” “you’ll get injured if (insert any type of exercise they don’t teach,” “your body can’t digest (any type of food they don’t subscribe to)”, and so on, fill the health wires. But if we really had all of these answers, and there was really only one right way to train or to eat, why are we still getting fatter? It seems that even the most altruistic of us have become self protectorate. It’s our way or the highway, or else we won’t get your business. But when it comes to diet and exercise this couldn’t be further from the truth.

* we’ve been strategizing a way to bring the coach network over here but it’s hard in a country where ever item (like a dvd) is pirated instantly with no consequence.
pic: romney and ashna go retro at guru's dream gym, calcutta, india

India stories: The Fitness Yogi

En route to Nepal a family visit to India was in order. Calcutta, or Kolkata as it’s called here, the erstwhile intellectual capital of India favored for its arts, literature, anti-Bollywood drab communistic history and the poverty and squalor targeted by Mother Theresa, this time around feels a bit more like home. While as mad and dirty as ever—though the air’s cleaned up quite a lot due to some stringer auto rules set forth by the new magistrate—I’ve had five years since last visit for it to sit in and, thus, we’ve rolled into things somewhat seamlessly.

Over the next month, especially during our time in Nepal; first trekking, followed by Yak Attack, I’ll often not be connected so I’ll be digging up some older stories on India, Nepal, and Beachbody from 5 years ago. Hopefully these will prove as entertaining to you as they do for me to read them again.

We’ll start with The Fitness Yogi. It’s a pretty fun look at life in Calcutta through the eyes of a western tourist. Click on the excerpt.

I get a lot of odd looks, waves, and occasional chides on my run. And, while most people look absolutely confused, the reactions are overwhelmingly positive. Because I’ve been running in an orange shirt, Brian has suspected that perhaps they see me as some type of fitness yogi. Orange, I’ve learned, is only worn by men who’ve become enlightened. This has added some fuel to the credence of Ashna’s idea that I would have an almost instantaneous cult following if I were to move here and champion exercise as a way to enlightenment.