Author: lloydlandry

Miles Teller, who played Goose’s son in the new Top Gun Movie, recently commented on how he got into shirtless beach football shape for the movie. I’m sure there was lots of exercise and dieting, but, according to him, one of the elements was zero sugar.

I did a little research on movie stars, weight loss, ripped bods, etc. and nobody mentions anything about sugar. I found some references in weight loss articles here and there, but few talk about how sugar gets in the way of health, and completely wrecks things when it comes to losing weight.

Late last year, I took a month off of sugar (long story) and lost 15 pounds quicker than I ever have. It was a surprising victory, but miserable to quit something that’s such a huge part of my life. Regardless, my relationship to sugar is now much different. Sure, I’ll pound a Coke every now and again, but no more sugar in the coffee, no more orange juice in the AM; sugary treats, snacks, etc. are now, for the most part, off the list.

I also did a little research on why sugar and weight loss don’t get along. Here’s a quick rundown from healthline.com on how it works:

High blood sugar levels impair normal cell function and promote inflammation, which increases insulin resistance…  Though cells become resistant to insulin’s effect on blood sugar uptake, they remain responsive to the hormone’s role in fat storing, meaning that fat storage is increased. 

Sugar doesn’t simply adds calories, it causes inflammation (fluid retention) and increased fat storage, like no other chemical, all adding up to extra weight, requiring a level of exercise and diet that would burn the best of us out.

Carbs are bad too, they say, allegedly turning into sugar, having the same weight gain effect. I’m no dietician, but I’ve never lost this much weight in so little time from my many attempts at a carb-free diet.

Ultimately, I’m not suggesting that diet and exercise aren’t important, but I can’t tell you how many times I’ve given up because I couldn’t lost those last 10 pounds, then gained 10 more in protest, all because I didn’t reign in the sugar pony.

If weight loss has you discouraged, as it does so many in my age department, quit sugar for a few weeks. If you’re ingesting the average American’s sugar ration, it’ll suck. The first thing you’ll notice is that there’s nothing fun to eat, and eating fun things is a big part of your life. I’ve skipped so many meals simply because I didn’t want to eat another vegetable. I love meat and carbs, but they get boring too. And when everyone around you is partying with the donuts and the ice cream things can get a little depressing.

You’ll also have to contend with the dark side of addiction. Quitting cold-turkey will feel like breaking up with a bad girlfriend. I’ve written about addiction before, so I won’t bore you with any re-runs, save that your ability to be happy will get stronger as you journey away from any happiness substitute.

In time, we’ll be happier without sugar, but the journey will take awhile.

The best place to start, odd as this will sound, is to get a little scared of sugar. I don’t think we have to get rid of it altogether, but it certainly shouldn’t be a staple food.

If you’re interested, below is a quick, relatively straightforward discussion on how sugar makes us huger than other foods, and why it might be time to rethink our relationship with it.

In a recent roundtable discussion with Robert DeNiro, Shia Labeof, Adam Sandler, Jamie Foxx, and Adam Driver (see full video below), Tom Hanks dropped some wisdom that would change my life if I really believed it.

It’s amazing to listen to these people talk about their craft in a way that makes acting sound like an everyday vocation. They live with fear and disappointment, they go home after a shoot kicking themselves for not performing well. It’s hard to feel sorry for them, but I’m not sure their life is as glorious as we make it out to be.

You should watch it if you get a chance.

In the video, Tom Hanks said “This too shall pass,” a phrase we’ve all heard before, but he put a spin on it that I’ve never considered:

You feel bad right now? You feel pissed off? You feel angry?
This too shall pass.
You feel great? You feel like you know all the answers?
You feel like everybody finally gets you?
This too shall pass.

It’s nice to know that I’m not the only person who experiences life in “chapters.” Tom Hanks, and all the other people seated around him, seem to be travelling down the same road, with similar ups and downs: one chapter with lots of friends, fun, influence, resources, etc., then, poof, we’re all scratching our heads wondering where it wall went.

“I’ve seen lonely times when I could not find a friend.” ~ James Taylor

This helps me to have a little hope during the downhills, or simply sit back and enjoy the good moments without worrying how to make them stay, or feeling like a loser when it’s time to transition into a chapter that’s not so fun.

And when things feel impossible, like it’ll never change, like the only way out is to do something stupid, that too shall pass.

Mr. Hanks finished his thought with this:

Time is your ally, and if nothing else, just wait.
Just wait it out.

As I write, there’s something looming over my head, stressing me out. In 10 short days I’ll know if things are going to move forward, or if the time and energy I’ve expended over the past few months are going to be a complete waste. But it’s not me who’ll suffer, it’s one of my kids; she’ll be heartbroken if this doesn’t go, and I’ll forever feel like I should’ve worked harder.

I’m not good at managing my kids’ dissapointments. This one will be a doozie.

In general, when I look into my future, with all of its frightening unknowns, time is no ally. It’s simply one more element of the cosmos that doesn’t seem to like me. But if I reflect on the entirety of my life – the ups and the downs – the face of time gets a little more friendly. I certainly haven’t been given the life I envisioned, but it has been full of beauty, magic, intimacy, maybe a little glory here and there, all held together by the mortar of disappointment, mundanity, embarassment, stupidity, and at a few times, utter horror.

In my opinion, time is a river of sorts that flows where it wants to, but not randomly or without purpose. We’re all heading in roughly the same direction, our lives unfolding as we go: Tom and Huck on a raft, nothing happening apart from this mighty river that does whatever the hell it wants to.

I’ll admit that I have some fear of it. Even when things are peaceful, I worry about when/how they will end. I’ve seen enough pain and loss to know that they come part and parcel with this place, and will, on occasion, swim up to my rickety raft and try to take a bite. I’m lucky to have survived. Some haven’t.

You can’t blame me for characterizing the whole ride by it’s worst moments. My soul wants to prepare me for the next bad thing, so I live regularly at DEFCON 2, convinced that the next crododile is lurking just around the corner.

On the other hand, when I judge my life by all the chapters, it hasn’t been that bad. Sure, when I’m in one of those parts where the hero can’t seem to keep his head above water, it’s hard to consider all of the other chapters, or that a better one might be on its way.

It’s almost impossible on those pages to believe that the story is good.

So, it’s important for me to stop on occassion and re-read the book, especially when the story goes dark, to remember that I’m in the middle of one that I truly don’t want to put down.

Every year, Elaine tells me to go surfing, and I happily comply. It’s a sport that I’ve been in love with for a long time, and I’ve been going every year since I turned 50. By now you’d think that I was good at it, but anything you do once a year is going to be difficult to master, especially if you attempt it later in life. On top of that, though I love surfing, I don’t have a particular knack for it.

On this trip, I pulled into my chosen beach town of Puntas, Puerto Rico, rented a board, hit the back break, and expected to do OK. Instead, I got worked and, as always, thought seriously about quitting. How can I be this bad after surfing for 6 years in a row now?

On the third day, I hired an instructor, “Candy,” to help me figure some things out. I met him in the parking lot of his surf school where he grabbed a huge foam top surfboard and loaded it into his car. I protested. Foam tops are for first-time surfers, not seasoned sucky surfers like myself. He insisted that we take the beginner board because the waves weren’t big enough to move my large corpus through the water.

We paddled out at Domes beach on the northwestern edge of Rincon, and I caught about 10 good waves that day. I didn’t think that you could turn a foamie, but you can. I’ve been going to Domes every day since, now surfing on a more respectable hard top, getting worked a little, but the rides have been much better.

One of the things that’s fun about solo surf trips is that you always meet other solo surfers, most of whom are on the same level you are. It takes a few days to connect, but I often make a few buddies who’ll commiserate on how ridiculously hard this sport is. My new friend, MJ, reminded me a few times that the barriers to entry are legion, and that there’s no point in beating myself up.

I used to struggle in a similar way with golf, expecting my score to be much better than it always is. For a while, when I was younger and had more energy, I’d get really angry when the cosmos conspired against my golf ball. I’d blame everything but my bad swing, play the victim and refuse to admit that my lack of experience was the biggest problem.

A quick story from a stranger who had just witnessed one of my tantrums set me straight.

He said that he had a friend with a similar problem who was onced paired with a professional golfer on a municipal course. His friend made a terrible shot off the tee, slammed his clubhead on the turf and cursed with much passion.

The pro looked at him and calmly said, “You’re not good enough to get that angry.”

I haven’t lost my temper on the golf course since.

On this surfing trip I finally admitted that I have a limited set of skills and experience, and shouldn’t expect more than they can deliver. But its difficult to live in that space. When I do something, I wrap my identity around it, defining myself – down to the core of who I am – by how things go. Instead of admitting that experience dictates expertise more than anything else, I choose to blame these failures on something related to who/what I am.

Other failures matter. They hurt, because the part of us that fails is a core part of the self. Importantly, when a failure breaks a person, the aspect of identity that’s affected may be seen as equal to the whole person. Everything else fades into the background. For instance, you may think you’ve failed as a parent, and that this somehow cancels out your professional achievements or vice versa.

I’ve done this too many times.

Just before COVID hit, I bought a rusted out, blown up Jeep, tore it down to the frame, and completely rebuilt it. I had never done anything like that, but still expected it to go smoothly. When it didn’t, frequently, I’d get upset. There are a million things you have to know about how cars work if you’re going to build one; valve spring tension, driveline angle, gear depth and lashing, wiring, welding, bolt stretch, what to replace, what to leave alone, measurements down to thousandths of an inch, and so many others were things I had no experience with. There’s no way to tackle all of that and not screw something up from time to time.

My next door neighbor once asked, “was that you screaming in the garage this morning?”

Everyone I know is trying new things, or trying to get better at something – not just useless hobbies. Parenting and career are two places where we constantly find ourselves in need of improvement, constantly challenged to get better at something, and to realize that our lack of experience, not who we are as people, will determine how things go.

Sure, there are other things like character, work ethic, and humillity that make things go a little easier. But if we have little-to-no experience, we’re going to have some difficulties. Failures will abound, and that’s OK.

Much as I’m guilty of this, defining ourselves by the way we master or fail to master our pursuits is a painful way to go through life, and one of the many ways that we distract ourselves from a deeper understanding of who we truly are.