It’s 10 PM, do you know where your kid is?

• Fatherhood: When they’re out of reach

• Fitness: Specificity

• Focus: Find your secret stresses

• A book, a quote, a dad joke

Fatherhood

I was on my way home from an event last night. On a whim, I took an alternate route. That’s when I saw that traffic was halted and that people were lining each side of the street. I saw the gawkers before I saw what they were gawking at. A young man was on the ground next to an electric motorcycle. I asked if anyone had called EMS and was met with blank stares. I walked my bike across the street. A middle-aged guy stood next to the kid on the ground. “They were going the wrong way.” A second teenager approached — dazed and with a massive welt on his head — standing with support from strangers.

I asked the crowd on the other side of the street about an ambulance and, this time, someone nodded. The kid on his feet said, “It was my fault.” His friend was laying sideways… bloody braces, glazed eyes. Someone tried to move him and I shouted at them to leave him. “My leg is broken,” he said”. And something about how much it hurt. I crouched down and asked his name. He mumbled something unintelligible. Shock. Then, “I’m 15.” That’s when I really saw how young he was. I asked him his name again and only made out the first part. I told him that an ambulance was coming and they would have pain meds. The guy who’d collided with them started walking toward the downed kid and someone got a hand in front of his chest. “They were on the wrong side of the road,” he said.” It was their fault.” He started to move toward the kid again and I got in front of him. Asked him if he’d been drinking. No emotion — just denial. “Have you had a drink?” I asked again. He backed off.

I talked to someone who had seen the collision — they had shot out of an alley. It was everybody’s fault. It was nobody’s fault. Somebody’s kid was badly hurt — and they didn’t know. I thought to ask for his mom’s number but he couldn’t string a sentence together and I couldn’t find a phone or wallet. His eyes rolled back and he started to lose consciousness. I poked him in the chest but that wasn’t enough, so I lightly slapped his cheek. He came to a bit. “My braces,” he said. This kid was still grappling with puberty. I told him that his gums would be messed up but that his teeth were ok. Something about that bugged him a bit — enough to bring him slightly more into focus. Skinny legs in sweatpants laying across a bike lane. Someone said he’d flown when they collided and when he hit the pavement, he hit it hard.

A firetruck rolled up and put the other kid in a neck brace. He found his mom’s number on his phone and I called her. “Your son was in an accident. He’s ok.” I made sure to say that right away. “He’s hurt but he’s ok.” Do you know ——’s mom’s number?” She did not. I asked what hospital they were going to but nobody knew. The paramedics arrived and were all business. Not taking questions; just focused on the task at hand. They had a finger blood pressure monitor on the kid and the numbers were in the basement. He was still conscious as they loaded him on a stretcher. The middle-aged guy stood next to his motorbike. Silent. Worried for himself. Worried for the kid.

I did what I could. Tried to be one of Mr. Rogers’ helpers until the pros could arrive. Briefed the fire department guys as they prepped their report. At this point, the pros were all there and I had no more to offer. I biked toward home… with the emotions only hitting about 10 minutes after the fact. This was somebody’s kid. He was out with his friend on a Wednesday night. A cluster of bad judgments.

On the way to school, that same morning, I asked my son when people made mistakes. “When they rush.” He knew the answer I was looking for because we often talk about how we have to be extra careful crossing the streets in the morning. But I’m not immune to rushing either — in spite of knowing better. People also make mistakes they’re tired. When they’re high or drunk. When they’re in unfamiliar territory. The whole situation was a compounding of errors. I am heartbroken for the kid but know that it’s his mom who’s going to feel this harder than anyone.

I hope they’re all ok. I will probably never find out.

I’m asking myself what I need to do to never have a stranger call me at 10 PM because my son has been in an accident. At least to minimize the odds. And I’m asking what it will take to avoid not receiving the call because because nobody knows how to find me.

Keep’em safe, my friend.Fitness: Specificity

I have a wild and weirdly intelligent friend. Borderline feral — but with a stack of degrees. He told me about a challenge he was taking on: run 5K in under 40 minutes. This is not a world-class time by any stretch. The complications are that he is a big man and has not run in over 20 years. Oh — and part of the challenge is that he’s going to do it without doing any running before the test day.

This is absurd. Also fun.

The problem is that most fitness is specific. There’s no universal solve. You can be generally fit, with a decent strength, a good VO2 max, and enough mobility to not be mistaken for Robocop. However, this won’t ensure your performance on any specific task — only your readiness to begin preparing for it.

So, when you can’t do the task, the challenge is to simulate the demands as closely as possible. Bike work may help with the cardio BUT it won’t prepare your tissues for pounding the pavement. You have to develop a tolerance for any specific stress — as you might for any drug or poison. How would you take on this challenge?

Focus: Find your secret stresses

I recently listened to a panel of experts talk about stress resilience. The high-performing CEO of a nutrition company shared an insight that I think you’ll find interesting. In spite of being quite fit, his high cholesterol levels were riding high. Stress wasn’t a consideration because his stress tolerance was legendary. Even during a huge acquisition, he seemed unflappable. So, with guidance, he tracked absolutely everything. It turned out that small moments, including arguments at home, that really had an impact. When he began managing stress and integrating meditation, that was when his cholesterol levels dropped dramatically.

What I'm reading

Stop Doing Low-Value Work

Quote

“All great art is just commitment to the bit.”

—Unknown

Dad joke

What's blue and smells like red paint?

Blue paint.