Distracted driving has become a big issue and with good reason. People think nothing of texting and talking while operating a 3-ton motor vehicle. No wonder it’s never been more dangerous to drive.

It’s symptomatic of our modern inability to focus, to remove clutter and distraction and live lean mentally.

Distracted driving is a subject for another time, however. Today’s topic is distracted cycling. At least 80 percent of cyclists I see on the roads here in Florida’s most densely populated county ride while listening to music. Bicycling is inherently dangerous, especially around here, but these folks think nothing of relinquishing arguably their second-most important sense. Thus they’re not able to hear cars approaching from behind, the sirens of emergency vehicles, or the voices of other cyclists. If a pedestrian wanted to shout a warning to them about oncoming danger, the cyclist likely would not hear it.

Not only that, by listening to music, the cyclist is losing focus. Instead of having all five senses on high alert to navigate this dangerous world, they’re lost in a cocoon of noise.

Distracted driving and distracted cycling is a dangerous mix, one I witnessed several weeks ago while in the car. The driver in front of me clearly was texting and the car was weaving in and out of the lane. Up ahead was a cyclist riding in the bike lane. A collision appeared likely. Thankfully the cyclist, who was not wearing a listening device, heard the car drifting into the bike lane and swerved into the shoulder, avoiding disaster. Thankfully there was a shoulder. The cyclist yelled some choice expletives, which the driver probably didn’t hear, focused as she was on the phone.

More often, however, the cyclist would have been wearing a listening device, oblivious to the car drifting over, and likely now injured or dead.

In theory, cycling is supposed to be healthy, saving us money and helping the environment. In reality, many use it as another form of digital distraction, creating a volatile mix on the roads.

If you don’t ride a bike regularly, perhaps you think this message doesn’t apply. But we’ve reached the point where many folks won’t do anything unless they’re tethered to a device or at least exposed to media. They’ve surrendered their ability to focus and operate in quiet, when the mind and senses arguably are most effective.

Many folks cannot disconnect, even when exercising, and not only is this dangerous for cyclists, it defeats the purpose of training outdoors. One of the great joys of cycling, running, hiking, or paddling is enjoying the outdoors with all five senses. If you’re plugged into music, you might as well be indoors on a treadmill or stationary bike.

Understandably, music is performance enhancing. Whatever your taste in tunes, a favorite playlist can ramp up your energy and produce a better workout. In the gym many people listen to their own music rather that endure the many commercials interspersed with the club’s music. Or they might prefer their own songs. All of which is understandable, though even that’s dangerous as wired people in the gym sometimes run into others or don’t hear equipment moving around them.

One of the most important rules at triathlons is to not wear listening devices – ever. Not on the swim, not on the bike, not on the run, not even while setting up in the transition area before the race. That’s because athletes need to hear emergency vehicles, other athletes passing them, and the announcements broadcast over the sound system in transition. It’s a matter of safety.

Roads generally are closed to traffic during triathlons. But nobody would think of riding with a listening device. (Actually, some athletes would, but it’s cause for immediate disqualification.) So why wear listening devices when roads are open? It actually might be less of a risk to ride with no helmet and no listening device than with a helmet and a listening device. Heck, it’s dangerous enough with a helmet and no listening device.

To live lean means maintaining focus. This increases productivity and forces you to eliminate the clutter of the mind, zeroing in on what’s important. It also means choosing the beautiful sounds of nature over digital distraction.

When it comes to cycling, the life you save could be your own.

Since committing to living lean, I’ve discovered a number of people who watch little or no television. It’s probably no coincidence that these usually are wildly successful and happy folks.

In 2010 and 2011, I gave up television for Lent. I didn’t think I’d make it through Lent. I certainly didn’t think it would create lasting change. Instead, it’s been one of the best decisions of my life.

I always had made vague commitments for Lent – chocolate, sweets, pizza – but never followed through. But in 2010 and ’11, I made it all 40-plus days without television. The biggest challenge was daily life, where we now have televisions in places where it was unthinkable just 20 years ago: airports, doctors offices, gym locker rooms, auto service waiting areas, even taxis. Heck, those of us over 40 can remember when many restaurant bars did not have TV.

When you give up TV for Lent, you’ll miss the Academy Awards. In certain years, like 2010, you’ll miss the Winter Olympics. You’ll miss the best time of year for college basketball.

Actually, in 2010 and 2011 I didn’t miss anything. That’s why my wife thought it was lame of me to give up television for Lent; I don’t watch much anyway.

I have not watched a network television program regularly since the first season of Survivor in 2000. I have not seen a single episode of American Idol, The Walking Dead, Lost, Dancing with the Stars, 24, Mad Men, Breaking Bad, or most anything else that has debuted in the last 15 years. I’ve enjoyed several series on HBO, especially Six Feet Under, Rome, and True Blood, but I’ve never watched Game of Thrones, its biggest current hit.

Since True Blood signed off in August of 2014, I have not watched a series of any sort. I’m told there’s some great stuff available. But I have no desire to watch since I’ve broken the habit.

I grew up in a home where my parents refused to get cable TV, but I still watched a fair amount of network programming. I can recite dialogue with any of the 200-plus episodes of M*A*S*H, for instance.

But gradually my viewing has diminished to almost nothing. Maybe it came with having kids or taking up endurance sports. Maybe it came with the lack of quality programming. Maybe it came from transitioning from being a full-time sportswriter to a journalist focused more on performance and fitness. Maybe it came with Disney purchasing ABC/ESPN and making it seem like an infomercial. Maybe it came with the transition of television from news and entertainment to talking heads yelling about politics and sports.

Because of the non-stop chatter surrounding sports, you need not watch the games themselves anymore to follow along. I have not watched an NFL game other than parts of the Super Bowl since 2007 and still feel like I can keep up with it by reading online for 20 minutes or so a day during football season. (Heck, millions of people watch six hours of NFL every Sunday but are too drunk to remember any of it.)

How much of our lives do we surrender to television? The DVR was supposed to let us spend less time watching TV since we could zip through the commercials. Instead, it’s made it convenient to record and later watch stuff we probably would not have back when it took some effort to program the VCR. Some actually brag about their binge viewing, a term that didn’t exist five years ago, as it it’s an accomplishment to lie in front of the couch for an entire weekend. (Yeah, but I saved time by watching it all at once!) Technology has advanced to where we now can watch TV anytime, anyplace, on a screen of any size.

Most people design their homes around television. There are home theaters, man caves, entire wings of the house devoted to wasting away watching television. Here in Florida, people have TVs outside, too. We once placed objects of importance on the mantel. It’s telling that many people now mount a flatscreen in that spot. Hey, it’s what they consider most important.

Nobody has time to work out. But everyone has time for television. Some people make half-hearted compromises, watching TV while plodding along on a treadmill or stationary bike, usually getting the predictable modest results.

If you want to discover more time, turn off TV. If you want to get better sleep, turn off TV at least an hour before bed. If you want to have more sex, take the TV out of the bedroom.

When I gave up TV for Lent in 2010 and 2011 many exciting opportunities came my way. Maybe that was coincidence.

Thankfully, my crash television diet instilled a new habit. Over the last six yeas, I’ve watched little beyond college basketball.

I haven’t missed much.

 

 

This isn’t about wearing dirty clothes, saving water and energy, or going nudist for a few weeks, though there’s something to be said for all of that. This is about leaning out your wardrobe and discovering the clothes you truly value.

It’s been said that we wear 20 percent of our clothes 80 percent of the time. Some have suggested hanging your clothes the opposite way on hangers as you wear them. At the end of 30 or 60 days, you can look at the clothes not turned backward and tell which ones you no longer need.

The No-Laundry Challenge is a faster, more powerful way to illustrate this trend. Simply see how long you can go without doing laundry. We’ll make exceptions for underwear and socks, though if you run out of either, hopefully it’s because you still want to wear all of your inventory. If not, designate those you don’t want as rags. You know you’re done with a pair of socks or piece of underwear when you’re down to your last option and cringe at the thought of wearing it.

I’ve pared my wardrobe dramatically in recent years as I dropped 20 pounds. Much of my wardrobe was oversized to begin with and by leaning out my body, little of it fits. I figured everything remaining must be stuff I actually wear.

Not true. As a freelance writer living in Florida, I live mostly in jeans or shorts, T-shirts, and short-sleeve collared shirts. I tend to work out most every day, so I have a lot of training gear and rack up a lot of laundry. Having purged so much in recent years, I have an organized closet with gaping holes; I no longer need so much space.

So I figured the No-Laundry Challenge wouldn’t produce eye-opening results. I was wrong. After 10 days, I discovered three T-shirts that still had tags on them. I had purchased them at least six months ago. They had sunk to the bottom of a pile, which was where they remained as I wore the same shirts on top, washed them, and placed them back atop the pile. Even though I haven’t bought any other shirts in the last six months, it was startling to find I didn’t need the ones I bought six months ago – which I’ve started wearing this week with everything else in my overflowing laundry bin. I liked these three shirts when I bought them and still like them. It’s as if I just found some free new clothes.

As I made my way to the bottom of that T-shirt pile looking for something to wear, I passed a few other shirts, well-worn wardrobe veterans. It was time to thank them for their service, as Marie Kondo recommends in her terrific book The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up, and take them either to Goodwill or the rag bin.

As I went through the sock drawer, it was surprising to see how many orphaned and worn socks there were. There were others I didn’t particularly like but kept because they were freebies from running events and triathlons. This violates the Live Lean philosophy of not accepting free items just because they are free. When I found that I would rather wear a pair of mismatched white socks to train in rather than a pair of freebies with some cheesy sponsor logo, it was time for the freebies to go.

You can do the No-Laundry Challenge several times a year because of seasonal clothing. Plus you’re always bringing in new clothes. Even if you rarely shop, you receive gifts and freebies. Ideally, we’d adopt a one-in-one-out philosophy each time we add. In reality, we usually don’t, especially with freebies. We don’t tend to get rid of something when we get a freebie since it likely isn’t better than much of what we have and, besides, it’s free. But there’s still a cost to ownership in that it needs to be maintained and produces clutter.

At the moment, nearly two weeks into the No-Laundry Challenge, I have one pair of underwear remaining and I’m down to mismatched socks. So I’ll wash socks and drawers today. But as I wear a “new” T-shirt for the second of a three-day stretch, I plan to continue the No-Laundry Challenge. I’ll no doubt find more stuff that can go and I’ll likely discover more “new” clothes to wear.

Best of all, I’ll continue to lean out my wardrobe, retaining only the clothes I love to wear – and keeping them where they can be seen.

 

 

 

As I write this, Hurricane Matthew is gaining strength in the Caribbean. Those of us who live in Florida know this drill well. We keep an eye on the news and update our hurricane plan if needed. Thankfully the storm usually weakens, moves offshore or takes a turn away from us.

That’s not always the case, however. Not long after we moved to Florida, a hurricane formed suddenly in the Gulf of Mexico and authorities issued an order for our county to evacuate – in three hours.

It’s amazing how you prioritize possessions when you have just three hours and two small cars. This was the late 1990s, before digital photography and storage, so we dedicated much car space to photo albums and CD music collections, which seems downright silly now. Valuable documents already were tucked away in a safe deposit box at the bank.

We put the cat in a pet carrier and filled two suitcases with a representative sampling of our wardrobes. I grabbed a fairly large box that contained my sports card and memorabilia collection (since sold). We also packed a small stereo system (again, the late ’90s) and a laptop computer before driving inland for two hours to stay with relatives.

As we drove away, I couldn’t help but think I wouldn’t miss anything if our apartment building washed out to sea. Everything of importance was in these two cars, which surprisingly weren’t that loaded down.

The hurricane never came and we returned home the following day. It was a valuable exercise, though, in realizing how little of what we have is important. Heck, even much of what we took at the time wouldn’t be necessary now that most everything is stored digitally.

We have friends in Boston who ten years ago endured a middle-of-the-night house fire. They have four daughters, all 10 and under at the time, and thankfully everyone got out before the house burned to the ground.

A few years later, the father told me he was glad it happened. “It was very traumatic at the time and putting our life back in order has been challenging,” he said. “But as far as the contents of the house, I don’t miss anything. We never would have gotten rid of a lot of that junk. The fire totally changed our mentality and I’m thankful for that. We don’t collect or accumulate anything and only buy what we absolutely need.”

Every summer since the fire this family of six has rented a large van and traveled the country. They typically take one or two of their nieces as well. People no doubt see their social media postings from some cool, out-of-the-way place and wonder how this big family finds the time and money to do it on two modest incomes.

When you spend only on what you need, it’s amazing the resources you have for experiences. And if disaster strikes, nobody can take those memories away.

When making a discretionary purchase – meaning something you don’t absolutely need – ask yourself if this is something you’d throw in the car during a hurricane evacuation or miss if the house burned down.

If it’s not something you’d grab with three hours to evacuate, it’s not worth buying.