I still have the blue backpack I’m wearing in this 1987 photo. I haven’t kept many things 30 years, but this pack is a reminder to live lean.

Upon graduating high school in that year, I had the great fortune to backpack through Europe. A former classmate who finished high school in Switzerland invited me to travel with him and three others. He’s on the right in this photo.

I arrived at my buddy’s home in Geneva with an overstuffed suitcase. He tossed the contents on his bed and shuffled through them, shaking his head. He presented me with the blue backpack, identical to his red one, and said everything I could take needed to fit in this pack.

For the next five weeks, the five of us – just 17 and 18 years old – traveled through France, Spain, Germany, Belgium, Italy, and Greece with only these packs. We slept on trains, ferries, park benches, beaches, campgrounds, and the occasional youth hostel. My companions had grown up mostly in Europe, spoke five languages between them, and we breezed through the continent on about $25 a day, a pittance even by late ‘80s standards.

Since 1987, I’ve stayed in luxury hotels, traveled the world, and spent a good chunk of my twenties living in Marriott properties. But I have never traveled as efficiently nor experienced as many things as I did in that five-week stretch.

That’s because we traveled lean. We managed with a capsule wardrobe of one pair of jeans, sneakers, light jacket, ball cap, three T-shirts, a collared shirt, two pairs of shorts, swimsuit, underwear and socks. We each carried a foam sleeping pad, a sheet, and between us hauled three tents. Throw in toiletries, decks of cards, small journal notebooks, pens, and the small cameras of the era and that accounts for everything we carried – all on our backs.

This being 1987, we carried no digital devices, just maps and Eurail passes. Our parents would not have known what country we were in on any given day. Sure, we got lost a few times, even waking up on a train one morning in Belgium instead of Germany. We drank too much on occasion but managed to avoid getting into serious trouble.

Because we traveled lean, we spent little time packing and unpacking or checking in and out of hotels. That’s because we only had our packs and managed to live, as some might suggest, one standard above homeless people.

I would argue we traveled like kings. We saw Barcelona, Paris, Nice, Lyon, Cannes, Geneva, Milan, Florence, Rome, Munich, Brussels, Athens and the Greek islands. We already were independent teenagers, but getting around Europe for five weeks took things up a notch. We lived like locals and ate like natives.

Imagine today’s helicopter parents, the ones who issue iPhones to their 11-year-olds “for safety,” sending their 17- or 18-year-olds to Europe to travel unsupervised with friends for five weeks? That would never happen even if Liam Neeson hadn’t made the “Taken” trilogy.

We’ll leave the modern child rearing discussion for another column. The lesson from our trip is that you could literally travel the world with a backpack and no itinerary. And if you could do it as a teenager, the world is your oyster.

My buddy grew up living all over the world; his parents worked for the State Department. He returned to the United States a week before college started and we were freshmen roommates. He had only a suitcase when my parents drove the two of us to school; I had a suitcase and a fan.

After spending five weeks with backpacks, that seemed like more than enough. Other kids arrived with U-hauls of dorm furnishings, clothes, and electronics.

Eventually we needed winter clothes and a few other things; we rented a small refrigerator. His parents bought him one of the earlier Apple computers, a 1987 version that used discs that were literally floppy.

But we continued to live lean. After traveling for most of the summer, making up our itinerary as we went along and grabbing food wherever, it seemed odd to go back to a school schedule and adapt to a spoon-fed life of dining halls and dorm life.

As for the blue backpack, that was not its last trip. When I graduated college in 1991, it went back to Europe on another five-week barnstorming tour. In 1998, it returned to the Greek islands on my honeymoon with my wife carrying a similar pack. We checked no bags, got off at Athens, and boarded a ferry with only our backpacks and no reservations.

Now a family of four, we take most of our vacations in the form of long driving trips where the challenge is to pack only what can fit in a minivan for a month or more. That’s a live-lean challenge of another sort.

My wife and I will celebrate our 20^th anniversary in 2018. We plan to return to the Greek islands.

Guess which backpack will be coming along?

Nobody has time to read. We’re a fast-paced, overscheduled, digitally-connected culture incapable of giving our attention to anything more than 140 characters. Perhaps a short blog post or text. Maybe an actual newspaper or magazine article, but only if we can find it on our smartphone quickly.

A book? Well, only if it’s short. And only if it can be read on the phone.

I don’t buy that. Not for a minute. Nor should you.

It’s never been easier to find the time to read. Stephen King, the prolific thriller author whose best book, ironically, might be his autobiography/writing advice book On Writing, says the key is to read in sips rather than gulps. If you wait for a long stretch of time to read, it probably won’t happen, though we recommend using the last 30 minutes before turning off the light at night to read.

But we agree with King that there are numerous 10-to-15 minute windows to read during the day. How about while parked – parked, not moving or at a stoplight- in a car line waiting to pick up kids? Or standing in line at Chipotle? Or waiting for the doctor or dentist? Or while waiting for food to cook or laundry to wash? Or while waiting for the kids’ practice to end? Or for the mechanic to finish with the car? How about while waiting for your co-workers to inevitably arrive late for the meeting? If you watch televised sports, how about during the endless commercials?

How about at the airport, a series of waits to check bags, board (inevitably late), take off (delayed again), while in the air, and later sitting on the runway waiting forever for a gate to open. King, a huge baseball fan, takes a book to the ballpark and reads between innings. Why not? What else are you going to do?

Most of us spend more time in the car than we’d like. Why not listen to books on CD or digital download? It beats talk radio, morning zoo deejay nonsense, and listening to the same tunes over and over. Plus it’s a lot less safer than using a smartphone in the car.

You no doubt have at least some of those opportunities above. It’s easy to fall into the habit of spending that time mindlessly reaching for the phone, checking social media and email, or watching whatever nonsense there is on TV, especially now that televisions have been mounted anywhere people wait: doctor’s offices, the mechanic’s wait room, restaurants, etc.

I attend several book festivals, sometimes as a presenting author myself, and it’s always amazing to see people standing in a long line with a book they just purchased, waiting for the author to sign it, and yet they’re either standing around bored or, more likely, scrolling through a smartphone. Just a thought: Why not start reading the book you just paid for and are waiting to get signed? Or some other book? You’re at a freakin’ book festival!

Here are just a few reasons to read:

 It sets a good example: If you want your kids to read, shut off television and digital media and read yourself. Set aside family reading time. Read books together. The young adult genre is the strongest segment of literature because the books appeal to kids and adults. You’ve no doubt seen the Harry Potter, Hunger Games, and Divergent movies. Why not read the books with your kids? There are plenty of other similar series our family has read together, including Gregor the Overlander and The Unwanteds. Go back further and try The Lord of the Rings or The Chronicles of Narnia, to name just two. If you read, the kids will read, learn, thrive in school and establish a lifelong habit of learning. What a wonderful gift.

 You might, um, learn something: As a writer, I talk to high school and college students that aspire to write. When I ask what they like to read, I get puzzled looks. They don’t have time to read. They might keep up with the news via social media. Such a shame. The only way to build vocabulary and writing ability is by reading. Aspiring to be a writer without being a voracious reader is like wanting to be a singer or musician but not listening to music.

It’s mostly free: As someone who has made a good chunk of my living writing books, I’m hesitant to admit this. But I rarely buy books. That’s because the public library is America’s best bargain. You can check out virtually any book for at least two weeks. And if you’re not done with it, you usually can renew it for another two weeks. If it’s not a new release, you can get another two weeks. How cool is that? Not only that, you don’t have to search for the books. Get a library card, go online, and see if the book you want is available at your local library. If not, they’ll track it down from a neighboring one, have it brought over, and send you an email when it arrives, giving you at least three days to pick it up.

Not only does this save money, it keeps you from accumulating clutter. Books are heavy and take up space. Rarely do you read anything twice. For those occasions, just retrieve the book from the library. I once had a massive home library, but I donated or sold 90 percent of it since I could retrieve the books from the library or the information online.

Sure, you might have to wait for a new best-seller to become available at the library since many others have discovered America’s best bargain. But there are hundreds of thousands of terrific older books to read in the meantime.

I rarely do any book reading online or on a device, unless it’s an e-book not available as a physical product. That’s because it’s too easy to get sucked into the Internet or social media rabbit holes. Plus, reading on an electronic device at night affects sleep, making your mind believe it’s still light outside. Physical books and magazines are preferable.

The key is to take a book or magazine wherever you go to take advantage of the opportunities to focus your attention on what you want, not the tired magazines in waiting rooms, the nonsense chatter on TV, or searching for something on your phone.

By limiting your screen time, you’ll discover a dozen 10-minute windows a day — two hours — to read. Combine that with 30 minutes of reading before going to bed and you’ll be one of the most avid readers in America. Your knowledge and focus will expand, your productivity will soar, and you’ll live lean.

 

 

 

It’s difficult to find a quiet place anymore. Retail stores feature pulsing club music. There are televisions in every waiting room – doctor, dentist, even auto mechanic – and even screens in taxis and elevators.

There’s no escaping the noise, not even in church. Church used to be a place of quiet, mindful reflection. Those arriving at church early knew to be quiet. It was understood that some were praying or at least engaging in the type of solemn reflection that probably drew them to a house of worship in the first place.

Not today. Enter a church 10 or 15 minutes before a service begins and it feels like you’re waiting for a concert or theater production to begin. There’s non-stop chatter. People are scrolling through their phones, checking social media, perhaps sending a few texts.

Before mass begins, a lector will make a few announcements, including a plea to silence all electronic devices. This never works. Inevitably during the mass someone’s phone will go off, usually during one of the most solemn points of the service and usually with the loudest, most obnoxious ring tone. And it’s often a phone belonging to a woman, who must scramble to retrieve the phone from the depths of her bag to silence it. Thus, the phone rings five or six times before it’s turned off.

Is there nowhere we can escape digital disruption? A Catholic mass, like the ones I attend, lasts roughly an hour, usually 50 minutes or so. Are we so digitally addicted that we can’t leave the phone in the car? Unless you’re an on-call physician, is there any possible emergency that can’t wait an hour?

Back when those hideous Bluetooth earpieces were fashionable – thankfully we moved away that – I knew a guy who would wear one in church. I always wondered if he planned to take calls during the service. I’ve sat next to people who text and scroll through social media feeds during mass.

Look, church isn’t for everyone. I’ve gone through periods, especially in recent years, where my attendance has been sporadic. But if you’re going to make the commitment to go, shouldn’t it be a time of prayerful reflection, a time to pause from the chaos of daily life and be mindful?

When 24/7 digital use became an issue a decade or so ago, priests used to address it. A few even called out the offenders. But now, like so much rude behavior involving phones – phones used at restaurants, movies, on airplanes, etc. – priests have resigned themselves to having disruptions in mass. I know they must do a slow burn at the altar, pausing while someone digs the phone out.

No doubt the priests are praying that people can somehow become more mindful – at least for the one hour they’re in church.

I haven’t celebrated Mother’s Day in a long time. My grandmothers died years ago and Mom passed when I was in college. But as Mother’s Day approaches this year, I’ve been wondering what Mom would think of the world today compared to what it was like when she died in 1991, a generation ago.

She no doubt would marvel at how people fill their lives with digital distraction, connecting to video, music, or the Internet every waking moment. She’d be amazed at how often people eat out and how everything is much bigger, from homes to cars to televisions to bodies.

She’d wonder what happened to kids playing outside, families enjoying the outdoors together, and people living intentional, mindful, focused lives. She’d no doubt shake her head over social media, online shopping, participation trophies, reality television, and our narcissistic American consumer culture on steroids.

Mom’s lean living philosophy inspires the way I live today. Here’s what I learned from Mom:

WORK IN A GARDEN: Long before the terms “master gardener” and “organic foods” were popularized, Mom grew her own produce and flowers. She saw the value in raising beautiful things, toiling in the soil every day, and eating fruits and vegetables fresh from the garden. I’ve tried most every workout imaginable and yet there’s nothing that challenges every part of the body and leaves me as sore and exhausted as yard work. Mom understood that. She also believed in the value of “working” outside away from the phone, television, and other disruptions. The sounds of birds and insects and even the sight of an occasional black snake were sufficient entertainment. “One is nearer God’s heart in a garden,” the poet Dorothy Frances Gurney wrote, “than anywhere else on Earth.” We put that on Mom’s tombstone.

MOVE YOUR BODY: Long before fitness became a huge industry of gyms, gadgets, gear and classes, Mom performed yoga and rode her rickety three-speed bike 10 miles a day. I was a three-sport teenage athlete with a 10-speed bike and I struggled to keep up with her. She drank a gallon of water a day, long before it became fashionable, and bought low-fat and skim milk as far back as the 1970s when it was difficult to find anything but whole milk. Mom was a registered nurse and no doubt would be stunned at today’s sedentary, computer, cubicle culture. Mom played the piano and did a lot of sewing, but otherwise I have no memories of her sitting other than to eat.

NO SCREENS: Mom died before the Internet and cell phones. Computers in 1991 were little more than word processors. She refused to get cable and watched little television other than Jeopardy, which served an educational purpose for her three children. She believed in board games (preferably Scrabble and other word challenges), long walks, backyard badminton, Ping-Pong, tennis, eating outside and those 10-mile bike rides. Though she tolerated the obsession with televised sports Dad and I shared, I can’t recall her watching an event with us, not even the Super Bowl. She preferred to be a participant rather than a spectator in life.

GO MINIMALIST: Mom was wonderfully frugal. At the supermarket she could predict the total grocery bill within 50 cents. I often thought she could win a showcase showdown contest on “The Price is Right.” She wasn’t cheap – quite generous, actually – she just didn’t believe in buying non-necessities that cluttered your life. When I began lobbying to have a car at college, she worried that it would keep me from walking and riding my bike and feared it would inspire me to spend more time at stores and at the movies. Because Mom stayed in terrific shape, she looked great in any garment, even by the unflattering fashion trends of the 1980s. But she spent little money on clothing. If there were items my sisters or I weren’t wearing, she’d wear them.

EMBRACE EVERY DAY: Mom was a model of active, healthy living and still died at 51. Even though I have no chance of developing ovarian cancer, I’ve used her example as the benchmark for how I must live. Dad smoked cigarettes until he was 48, worked a high-stress career and never was admitted to a hospital until age 70. He’s still going strong at 77. There are no guarantees for any of us regardless of lifestyle, of course. I’m only a few years away from 51 and take nothing for granted. But I’d rather live lean like Mom to improve my odds and enjoy more along the way.

 

 

In our American consumer culture on steroids, it’s amazing more people don’t have the wake-up moment Joshua Becker did in 2008 when he realized he didn’t have time to play with his young son because he had to deal with an avalanche of clutter in his garage.

Thus began Becker’s BecomingMinimalist.com, arguably the best of an increasing number of blogs – including ToLiveLean.com – devoted to stripping down possessions, clutter, and commitments to free time and money for what’s really important: family, passions, and giving.

Becker has inspired millions to opt-out of the bigger-is-better American trend that results in less time and much more debt and stress. But even devoted followers of his blog will find new material and inspiration in the powerful new book “The More of Less.”

It’s not Becker’s first book, but the first produced by a mainstream publisher and marketed to the masses. It might be the coming out moment for the minimalist movement, even more so than Marie Kondo’s best-selling “The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up.”

Becker pays tribute to Kondo, as well as other noted declutterers such as Peter Walsh and fellow minimalist bloggers Courtney Carver, Ryan Nicodemus & Joshua Fields Millburn, Leo Babauta and others. But Becker drills deeper to frame minimalism as a means to develop a focused, mindful, intentional life.

Becker’s background is in church ministry and he delves a little deeper into the biblical references and his faith journey in “The More of Less” than he does in the blog, but the message resonates regardless of faith or lack thereof.

In the last few years, Becker has inspired me to eliminate 50 percent of my belongings, including 75 percent of my clothes, and reduce my television viewing to little more than college basketball. When you purchase only what you absolutely need, you find you don’t need much.

“Once we let go of the things that don’t matter,” Becker writes, “we are free to pursue all the things that do matter.”

Less clutter = more time and freedom. It’s a tough sell in America, where overconsumption is viewed as the norm, if not a civic duty to support our economy, itself unsustainable because of consumerism.

Minimalism, as Becker writes, is “the intentional promotion of the things we most value and the removal of anything that distracts us from them.”

Indeed, more is less.

 

Where I grew up in Virginia, some of my neighbors had swimming pools. I mowed lawns as a teenager and my neighbors didn’t mind if I jumped in their pools as I worked, even though I was covered in dirt, sweat, and grass clippings.

My parents, wise and sensible people, never considered installing a pool. Why go through all of the expense and maintenance of owning a pool that’s used for perhaps three and a half months? If I wanted to jump in a pool, I could go mow a lawn. If we had a pool, I’d never use it.

Undeterred, I vowed to one day own a home with a swimming pool. Not only that, I would live in a warm climate where I could use my pool all year round. So it was that in 1999, in the final months of my twenties, I bought a big ass house with a swimming pool in Florida.

The night we closed on the house, my wife and I drove right over from the lawyer’s office to our new home. We marched right to the pool, stripped off all of our clothes, and jumped in. The water was surprisingly cool for a late June evening in Florida, but we didn’t think much of it. We now had our own home – and our own swimming pool!

Nearly 17 years later, we rarely use the pool, even though we still live in the same Florida home and can use it comfortably from about mid-April until the end of September. The relatively short “pool season” surprises Northerners, who presume that since we never have to cover our pools in Florida, we must be able to use them 365 days a year and would want to do so.

That’s just one of the great myths of swimming pool ownership, perhaps the most overrated feature of a home. It’s a strong selling point, to be sure. Just look at marketing materials for any home with a pool. Whether it’s a two-bedroom ranch or a sprawling 20,000 square foot compound, the pool is prominently featured.

Here’s what Realtors never tell you about pools:

THEY’RE HIGH MAINTENANCE: Sure, you’ll go through long stretches where this is not true, especially if you have a chlorine-free salt system, which we do not. Still, even without the salt system, you mostly have to throw in a gallon of shock once a week, put some hockey-puck size tablets in the chlorinator and make sure the pool does not turn green. No fuss no muss, right?

Unfortunately, your pool is a perpetual chemistry experiment dictated by the weather. There will be algae and stains and specialty chemicals needed. If you’re not constantly on top of this balancing act, the surface will wear out even faster than it ultimately will, requiring an expensive resurfacing. It’s not a question of if but when.

Sure you can hire a pool service, but that’s another monthly maintenance bill.

YOU’LL NEVER USE IT: Until you have a pool, you’re convinced you would use it every day. After all, you stayed a week at a resort hotel and you and the kids were in twice a day, every day. But the novelty wears off quickly when you have a pool of your own. When you live in warm climates, many homeowners have a pool. So it’s not even a big deal for kids to ask their friends over to swim. After all, they probably have a pool, too.

YOU DON’T “SWIM” IN IT: But wait, you say. I plan to use my pool for exercise. That’s wonderful. Too bad your average residential pool is 20 feet long and kidney shaped, not conducive for lap swimming. Perhaps you’re going to do some water aerobics or rehab movements. A pool is great for that. But most people think of pool exercise in terms of swimming laps and for that you need the traditional 25-yard or 50-meter version.

THEY’RE NOT THAT WARM: That night in June 1999 my wife and I learned that pools are not that warm, even here in Florida where we must build caged lanais around them to keep out the bugs. Not until late April in Florida – or Memorial Day in much of the country – does a pool reach 85 degrees, the comfortable temperature for sitting and socializing. By October 1 in Florida – or Labor Day in much of the country – the pool has dropped to 79 or 80 degrees. That’s perfect for lap swimming, but chilly for playing with the kids.

Sure, the kids won’t mind the cooler temperatures – to a point. Whenever we have guests from the North during the winter, there’s always a kid who begs mom and dad to let him jump in our pool. We highly discourage it, mentioning that the pool is 65 degrees and nobody has been in it in months.

Inevitably, Northern Mom will say, “Oh, that’s okay,” as the kid jumps into his swimsuit. “We’re used to that in Syracuse.”

“Please don’t,” I plead, sighing like Willy Wonka.

Moments later the kid is shivering in our living room wrapped in a towel, and Northern Mom is giving me the death stare for not warning them.

But wait, you say. Isn’t your pool heated?

Ah yes, the No.1 FAQ to pool owners. No, call us crazy, but like most pool owners we’ve opted not to purchase another expensive, high-maintenance heat pump on our home that would double our electric bill so we can swim from November through March. And, no, we did not want to install unsightly solar panels and PVC pipe on our home.

So I have learned my lesson with swimming pools. Sure, the pool has provided some fond memories. When our kids were between 3 and 6, a woman came over to give swim lessons to them and some of our neighbor kids (when the pool was warm enough). And we had a few memorable parties, though not as many as you’d think over 17 years. Even when you have parties, few people get in the pool. It’s almost as if it’s a water feature, like a fountain or pond.

As we downsize, one of the top requirements for our next home is that it not have a swimming pool.

But when we go to sell this one, the pool no doubt will be the most prominent feature listed.

I’ve made one change in recent years that’s had a dramatic effect on my productivity, sleep, mood, focus, and concentration.

For at least one hour after waking up and at least one hour before turning off the lights and going to sleep I do not look at a screen of any sort. That includes everything: television, laptop, tablet, and phone.

There is numerous research showing that staring at a screen around bedtime impacts sleep since looking at a lighted device makes your body think it’s still light out. Plus electronics keep your brain busy and distracted at a time when it should be winding down. Remove all electronic devices from your bedroom and see how your sleep (and sex life) improves.

If you use a smartphone as an alarm clock, get a traditional alarm clock. Yes, this seems against the Live Lean philosophy. After all, a smartphone allows us to eliminate a number of gadgets. But having a smartphone in the bedroom makes it more tempting to use it. Plus, no matter how diligent you are about shutting off the device’s alerts and beeps, you’ll inevitably forget and be awoken by an unimportant midnight text by a night owl friend.

For most people, the challenge here is to eliminate television, social media, texts, and email from the evening. But the best way to get adequate sleep and better sleep while clearing time for more important stuff (like sex in the evening or working out in the morning) is to undergo this digital blackout.

If you’re lacking time for sleep, sex, exercise, or reading, you can reclaim it by ignoring screens for at least an hour before bed and an hour upon waking up.

Reading is the best way to wind down before turning off the lights. It’s not a good idea to read a thriller or mystery novel that will keep the mind racing and inspire you to stay up until the exciting conclusion. But set aside a few magazine articles or, better yet, some boring stuff you need to read for work that’s not pressing. It will help you sleep better and might even put you to sleep with the lights on.

If you think you’re too busy or popular to adopt this blackout, think again. A while back I was staying with a friend and his wife. This friend is the owner of several companies, with more than 3,000 employees. He is a speaker, consultant, and expert sought after by prominent athletes and business people. And yet whenever I stayed at his home, I never saw him look at his phone, tablet, or laptop in the evening. He didn’t even keep his phone nearby, even though he deals regularly with these prominent folks.

Early in the smartphone era, my friend saw me checking my email frequently well into the evening. “You know,” he said matter of factly. “All of that will be waiting for you in the morning.”

That’s so true. I figured if he could let the digital distraction go for an hour or two at night, then so could I.

The same is true with the morning. If you look at a screen, especially a phone, within an hour of waking up, you’re immediately distracted by the needs and wants of others. If you wake up early – and you will wake up early by eliminating screens at night and getting better sleep – you’ll have plenty of time to train, stretch, meditate, and fuel your body properly for the day. That first hour should be yours alone.

The only exception I make is for a quick glance at my phone for texts that might have come from my morning training partners or folks we carpool with who might have a change of plans. But that’s all. I don’t glance at other texts – there usually aren’t any – and I certainly don’t fall down the rabbit hole of social media, news, and email.

By implementing these one-hour digital blackouts as bookends to my day, I’ve carved out that time for myself and set the tone for both the day and the following day. I’m more focused, energized, productive, and calm, and the agenda I set is thus my own.

 

 

 

Participation trophies are a polarizing topic. Some believe the trend of giving kids trophies regardless of performance dampens motivation and brings about a sense of entitlement. Others believe it’s a harmless gesture that builds self-esteem.

I tend to fall into the first camp. I received just one trophy as a kid despite playing baseball and/or basketball from the age of 8 through high school. That’s because my youth sports leagues awarded trophies to only the first-place teams. The second place teams received plaques, if that, and third place and beyond got nothing. Thus, getting a trophy was a big deal and strong motivation.

But we’ll save the participation trophy debate for another day. One overlooked downside to awarding trophies, ribbons, and certificates for everything is that it produces clutter. Plus, the award becomes the focus, not the experience.

This isn’t just true of youth sports leagues. We’ve reached the point in adult endurance sports where athletes expect a medal for finishing not just an Ironman triathlon or a marathon but every run-of-the-mill 5K run, even if it’s a “themed” race where most “runners” just walk around getting doused with colored powder. So you get a finisher’s medal, along with a T-shirt, and a “swag” bag full of sponsor promotional items (pens, key chains, etc.) and plenty of paper advertisements. Often the bag is a nylon backpack with the race logo.

So we’ve transformed what should be a physical challenge focused on pushing your body to new heights into a shopping experience. Pay $50, $75, or $125 and get a bunch of stuff. Do enough of these races and soon you have a drawer full of T-shirts, a box full of medals, and promotional items cluttering your home.

This same mindset often takes root in vacations. Rather than focusing on exploring new places and trying unusual experiences, many emphasize the accumulation of souvenirs, artwork, clothes, and home decor to remind them of the “experience.” Which is appropriate since for many people vacations are about shopping and consuming.

Thankfully, digital photography has eliminated the clutter produced by vacation photos. Those of us of a certain age will remember sorting through “free double prints” from the pharmacy and being subjected to marathon slide presentations – actual film slides, not PowerPoint – from Aunt Millie’s trip to China.

Though digital cameras have eliminated this torture and kept vacationers from shooting photos of scenery and famous sights that now can be found online, technology has contributed to a self-absorbed culture where we must photograph everything rather than just take in the experience. We live in the era of “photos or it didn’t happen,” which places the focus more on photographing the experience and sharing it online immediately over living mindfully in the moment.

Before we embark on any experience, whether it’s entering an endurance race or planning a vacation, we consider the cost in terms of time and money. That’s only natural. We think of the joy the experience will bring. But whether we think of it or not, we’re also weighing the swag we’ll receive.

That’s why I’ve come to consider experiences solely for, well, the experience. Would I enter this race if it there were no T-shirt, finisher’s medal or swag? It not, then why do the race? Would I attend this professional sports event were it not for a free giveaway? If not, why pay to watch an event for two to three hours if I wouldn’t do so otherwise? Would I take this trip if I knew I would bring home nothing but memories and perhaps digital photos that I did not share online?

As for participation trophies, how many of those kids would play sports were it not for knowing they’d receive a trophy at the end of the season? Probably most, but some no doubt have become so conditioned to receiving a trophy that the plastic trinket on a small slab of marble becomes the primary motivation.

Today’s 6-year-old receiving a participation trophy becomes the adult who looks for swag and finisher’s medals at a 5K, spends vacations shopping for “memories,” and makes decisions based on “free” giveaways.

Why not live lean and design your life around actual rich experiences, not the souvenir clutter they might bring?

In the last two years I’ve purged more than half of my belongings. Clothes, books, sports gear, tools, excess furniture, yearbooks, paper, electronics, toys, sports memorabilia, photos, and more odds and ends than I can count.

But yet there’s been something I haven’t used in 15 years that I’ve struggled to purge, even though I come across it every day and even though it’s taking up valuable floor space in the garage.

Golf clubs.

I haven’t played golf in 15 years and have hit the links just twice since I moved to Florida at the end of 1997. The clubs were not expensive; I bought them at the going-out-of-business sale of a local sporting goods store in 1998 for probably no more than $125.

It’s not like I once played a lot of golf, just an occasional round as a teenager. Though I’ve been around golf and lived near golf courses much of my life, it’s not a sport I ever embraced or found particularly enjoyable. If I have a spare three hours, I’d much rather run, swim, paddle, hike, or bike.

So why can’t I get rid of these golf clubs?

Maybe it’s because they represent a sport I’ve never been able to master. By parting with them, I’ll be admitting that I’ll never play passable golf, even though I already made that decision subconsciously by not playing since 2000.

There once was a time when I thought it was important to play passable golf. Twice in my twenties I started from scratch with lessons – first in Virginia and after I moved to Florida. I even co-authored a fitness book showing golfers how to train to play better golf and avoid injury. Even that didn’t inspire me to pick golf back up.

Golf is good for business and networking, I was told. Maybe that’s still true, though it seems like interest in golf has waned in the last two decades. Today’s hard-charging young and middle-aged professionals seem to prefer endurance sports like triathlon, mountain biking, and stand-up paddleboarding (SUP). Or CrossFit, yoga, and obstacle racing.

I can’t even say I’m keeping the clubs for my sons, who are at the age when they could take golf lessons. We have a driving range and teaching school around the corner, open year round. But the boys have expressed no interest in golf and, if they did, they’d need shorter clubs. A quick glance at Craigslist reveals comparable sets to mine – many comparable sets – in the $75 range. In the unlikely event I ever want another pair of clubs to replace these old sticks, I can find a cheap upgrade quickly.

It’s funny what we struggle to purge. For some it’s sentimental items. For others it’s books or mementos. Then there are the golf clubs and their equivalent, which represent another weird psychological hold, the middle ground between old hobbies and ones we never embrace.

True, you’re never too old to master a skill and if golf were on my bucket list, I’d keep the clubs. To live lean, we must curate all aspects of our lives, playing triage with our time by choosing only activities that bring us joy.

I can watch great golfers and appreciate their skills.

But devoting time to golf was never my thing.

And it never will be.

Today the golf clubs went to Goodwill.

I’ve spent a good chunk of my career writing fitness books, a genre released almost entirely around New Year’s Day with a “New Year, New You” marketing campaign.

The idea, of course, is to capture the New Year’s resolution crowd, a group that inevitably gives up their resolutions by Valentine’s Day. Perhaps it would be more effective to look at January 1 as “New Year, Nude You.”

This isn’t about being a nudist. It’s about taking a moment New Year’s Day or in early January to strip nude in front of the mirror and take stock not only of our bodies but everything in our lives. What is serving our goals and what is just clutter? What if we could start with a blank slate? It’s a new year, after all. Let’s take a look at five key areas of our lives where it’s possible to press the re-set button.

PHYSICAL: Body acceptance is a wonderful thing. If you’re concerned, however, that an unhealthy lifestyle is contributing to current or future health problems, get nude and take a long look in a long mirror. Everyone wants to look good in a swimsuit or birthday suit, but getting healthy for aesthetic reasons rarely is sufficient motivation. Instead, consider the consequences of your current lifestyle. Might you be contributing to an early death? At the very least, does your body provide you with enough energy to accomplish what you want? Are you able to provide for loved ones? What if you’re no longer around? That is stronger motivation.

MATERIAL: Are you dreading spending the better part of a day taking down holiday decorations? Consider purging half of them, keeping only what’s truly special. The stuff you didn’t put up this Christmas should be the first to go. Vow to spend 2016 experiencing life rather than acquiring and maintaining belongings. The more you purge, the more time, energy, and resources you’ll have. We always assume possessions make us happy when they actually rob us of our time, money, and energy. Strip down your belongings this year, clothes and everything else, and embrace the freedom.

DIGITAL: For the most part the digital revolution has helped us streamline. There’s no need for photo albums or physical collections of music, movies, or books. Even important documents can be kept in digital form. Indeed, make it a goal this year to put as much of your life in the cloud or on backup drives and free yourself from clutter.

At the same time, the digital world robs us of time and focus via email, texts, online browsing, and social media. The Internet can be a time saving tool, but it’s more often a time drain. Make it a point in 2016 to get “nude” digitally by stripping passive time online from your life. Limit television to an hour a day or less.

It’s also a good time to back up important digital files. If you’re like most people and have lots of photos, keep them on external drives rather than on laptops, tablets, and phones that can fall into the wrong hands.

CONSUMABLE: It’s not just that we eat too much food. We eat too many kinds of food. When we view food as fuel and not as a sensory experience, we’re more likely to eat healthy, fiber-rich, colorful food that fill us up and provides a big bang for the calories.

That’s easier to do by eating the same things on a daily basis. When we eat mostly the same things, shopping is faster and cheaper, and we’re less likely to overeat since we’re in touch with portion size. Swapping soda and sports drinks for water is a healthy way to save money. So too is minimizing alcohol, which fattens stomachs and cleans out wallets.

RELATIONSHIPS: Some people find it tough to cut back on alcohol. That’s because many of their relationships are built around drinking and parties. When activities are geared more toward the physical – hiking, biking, swimming, paddling, even golf, tennis and volleyball – you still might enjoy a drink afterward. But the focus is on the activity not drinking. When we surround ourselves with people who place a premium on experiences, we naturally cull unhealthy relationships and establish healthier ones.

There’s nothing wrong with the occasional celebration, of course. In fact, come December 31, 2016, you’ll no doubt raise a toast to 2016, when you discovered a Nude Year and a “Nude” You.