Weekly Plunder: Week 22 - Snow and Ice

A winter storm hit Saint Louis this week. What started as a light rain on Tuesday soon froze the ground with a sheet of ice as the temperature dropped. Then several inches of snow and sleet piled over this icy blanket over Wednesday and Thursday.

After doing my standard rehab exercises for my right foot, I went for an outdoor run on Wednesday through the snowy downtown landscape. The foot kept stable and I found that the snow actually provided a soft layer of cushioning. Contrary to what most might think, I believe outdoor exercise is the best possible remedy for my foot. Allowing the foot’s muscles to adapt to the angles, crevices, and curvatures of nature will give it more stability, not less, provided I’m reasonable with what I put the foot through.

I largely downplayed the injury to most people, but it was severe. It was several weeks before I could move all of the foot’s toes and several months before I could bend the foot for a “squat” type pattern of movement. My podiatrist and physical therapist told me this is because the muscle damage and inflammation interfered with the bone’s natural movement pattern.

I’m doing squats now. I’m also jumping. I have minor aches, but the aches, like so many material things, are fading with time.

Most people I encounter do not prefer to exercise outside, especially not in a winter storm. Many don’t go outside at all.

In fact, adapting yourself to uncomfortable conditions is good for both the body and the mind.

Note the ana, a group of Japanese female deep sea divers. They spend up to four hours a day at sea and often plunge into freezing water that would be intolerable to a Westerner (and possibly give a Westerner hypothermia). They complete up to 150 dives each day.

“We found that Japanese pearl divers have significantly less arterial stiffening,” says Hirumi Tanaka, director of UT’s Cardiovascular Aging Research Laboratory. This means they have less risk of health issues including hypertension, stroke, and kidney disease.

The average age of the ana is now a whopping 65. 65! Compared to westerners, what I’ve read is that diseases and cancers are much less prevalent in this group of divers. How many 65-year-old Americans do you know that can dive at all?

Numerous studies show that exercising outside improves brain function and mental health (and conversely, staying inside exacerbates mental health). It makes sense. Not only does fresh air and sunshine give a natural sense of peace and quietude, but the added challenge of navigating terrain gives the brain something further to focus on (and constant focus is required). In a gym, there is nothing but screens and machines. The mind can revert to “autopilot” mode. Trail running, in contrast, gives the brain a new stimulus to consider and calculate with every step and every turn.

There is good reason why most people in gyms need headphones—their routines are dull and predictable. Nothing is learned or gained but the linear movement patterns that metal objects and their pulley systems provide. The gym is often (not always, but often) a dull and diluted mimicry of what our ancestors once did naturally.

Nature, in contrast, is a constant zigzag. I prefer the zigzag, even on park rides that make me vomit.

What I’m watching: All of Us are Dead on Netflix. A zombie show with some fun twists and turns. What is it about zombies that fascinates us enough to keep them embedded in popular culture for generations? There is a certain horror in the possibility of living without a mind, in being powerless to a simple bite or an airborne pathogen, and in being stripped of the soul so that only an animal remains.

What I’m reading: The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry. This book celebrates the slow life and enforces its principles with Christian philosophy, which is often profound and underrated in the posh modern world of TikTok, SnapShit, and trend-seeking urban yogis.

What I’m listening to: Call Me Little Sunshine” by Ghost. I really can’t get enough of this band and I’m seeing them live in two weeks.

What I’m doing: I bought a flip phone, a Punkt MP02. I specifically bought this because it has an installable version of Signal (Pigeon), an encrypted messaging app that I’m more comfortable using than the other messaging apps out there. I still have a smartphone for some tools. They do have their uses.

And, I’m running in the snow.

Thoughts on the Trail

Early morning. A smattering of snow drifts down and coats the landscape with a thin white crust. The river isn’t frozen but I certainly wouldn’t want to swim in it. I feel like I’m gliding as I pedal north, mile after mile, with relative ease. I imagine myself continuing beyond my usual distance, crossing the Missouri border and the Chain of Rocks Bridge, then heading directly east towards whatever lies beyond the Mississippi. That bridge feels like the demarcation between the living and the dead. Across it is the unknown. I pedal over the bridge and I imagine myself pedaling forever. What is my limit?

I eventually turn around and suddenly the wind lashes me (the wind raced north with me, but counters me directly as I return south). The icy precipitation smacks my eyes. I am fully aware in this moment, cognizant of my environs, of the crevices in the trail, of the whitening underbrush to my left, of the glossy Mississippi River beyond that. The river looks like glass at this hour.

I think of my phone. I left it behind. If I were to crash out here, I’d have a long and lonely journey home. If I’m injured, I’ll be fending for myself.

A random thought hits me: I am lucky because still, for the majority of my life, I didn’t own a smartphone. I’m 36 and I acquired one at 22. I imagine my life before smartphones. Life was slower. I had time to create. I had time to invent my own games rather than succumb to someone else’s.

People say I need a smartphone. Do I? Did we need smartphones for the previous 250,000 years or so of human existence?

I read of the rising rates of depression and anxiety, and their parabolic rise upon the advent of the smartphone.

I lack a phone out here, in the cold, under the snowy sky. And I feel pretty good.

Can I toss my phone away?