What brings you joy and happiness?

Let me give you an unexpected flip on the question from author Michael Singer –

“If you can feel joy and happiness all the time, who cares what happens on the outside?”

Nothing can bring you joy and happiness for long.  Only you can do that.

Lying creates stress

Lying creates stress. 

You have to worry about getting caught. 

You have to remember the story you made up and all the versions you told to different people.  

You have to lie again to keep it going.

Your subconscious eats at you (hopefully) because it is not who you are, or want to be.

This all creates stress.  That is how a lie detector works – it does not sense a lie, it senses stress.

You don’t need to lie.  Just tell the truth and stop worrying about your ego and how you look. 

Most people don’t think about you much at all anyway.  You being human will be no surprise to anyone, and you being honest will be refreshing and appreciated.

Don’t lie. 

It’s not worth the trouble or the long-term expense.

No goal – no energy

If you don’t have a goal that energizes you each day, you will feel tired all the time.

I find this to be true for me.  If I do not have a mission, or if it is vague and I have not decided what steps to take next (today), my energy level is down.

Once I get my mind on a worthy goal or the next step toward it, I’m engaged and do not think so much about how I feel, how hungry I am, how tired I am, or my little aches and pains.  I have a job to do!

Do you have a goal you are working toward that energizes you each day?

Dakar – lessons from the longest race on earth. Part 15 – The Finish

January 17th.  Last Stage.  Stage 13.

It was awesome, but I wanted it to be over.  Everyone did.

Funny how you sign up for such an event.  People say “Did you have fun in Saudi Arabia?”  The answer is “No!”  Fun is not the word.  It was not fun.  You don’t do this for fun.  You do it so you can know you can.  That you can endure.  You can plan well enough. That you were tough enough physically and mentally, and that you were smart enough.  That you had the right combination that it takes.

Ted and I packed most of our bags before we started the stage.  We would be staying in a hotel tonight.  No more nasty trailer showers with no hot water.  A soft bed.  

Today was warm.  Hot even.  The first hot day.  We were back in Yanbu.  We made a full giant circle of Saudi Arabia.  5500 miles.  When you are wearing long underwear, a turtle neck shirt, a “balaclava,” which is a stocking cap that covers your neck with a hole for your face, (all for fire precautions), and a warm “onezie” race overalls, on a hot day, it can drain you.  I was grateful I did not sweat much until this stage.  I thought everyone would cruise and chill.  Nope.  We’re still racing hard.  Very dusty.  Cars are pushing to pass.  Rocky canyons mix.  I passed seven cars today.  The last 45 km was along the Red Sea.  You had to pay attention.  One car broke the front wheels off 15 km from finish.  One went off the road and broke the front end.  

Ricky Brabec, the American who was leading the motorcycle class by 3 1/2 minutes, got lost 10km from the finish.  He lost the 5500-mile race by two seconds.  Two seconds.  Heartbreaker.

There it was.  The finish line.  The Dakar finish line.  

We crossed it and stopped.  Our South Racing crew was there to congratulate us and celebrate.  It was a moment to be remembered.  A moment hard-earned by many.

We had to wait 3 hours in line to get on the podium and get our finisher medal.  The coveted Dakar finisher medal. 

We did it.  Dennis Murphy, South Racing, Ted, and me.  We finished Dakar!

After qualifying in Morocco and all that involved…  After having a chest infection for two months before.  The vertigo.  The stomach sick.   

The overheating. The getting stuck in the sand.  Zero visibility.  The dust and rocks.  The sand.  Oh man, the sand.

People ask me if it is harder than the Baja 1000.  The answer is that it is different. You really cannot compare them.  The Baja 1000 you can do on two wheels or four, and share the driving or riding with a team or not.  That makes a huge difference.  It’s like a whole different race depending on those two factors.  The Baja 1000 solo on a motorcycle is the hardest thing I’ve ever done.  No question.  And there are no sand dunes in Baja.  Not that we’ve raced on.  But Dakar riders have gone to Baja and hated how rough it was and said they would never return.

In Dakar, you are the only driver.  I was on four wheels.  It’s designed to wear you down day after day after long, hard day.  Make a small mistake, you’re out.  The navigation is far more difficult in Dakar.  No, follow the GPS line.  Road book.  Very different instructions.  

Dakar was the biggest adventure of my life.  The most epic.  

When you do something like this, you come back a little less restless; a little less feeling like you are playing small and missing out on something.  

You feel like you are living while you have the chance.  I believe that’s what we are supposed to do.

Three marbles I will remember forever.

Dakar – lessons from the longest race on earth. Part 14

Friday, January 16. 

Stage 12 – double digits.  It was hard to believe I had come this far.  I was still here.  After so many had crashed out or not finished for whatever reason, I was still in it.  We were.  Dennis and I were a great team.

I thought today would be an easy day like yesterday.  (“Easy” is a relative term of course.)  Nope.

Rocks all day.  Sharp ones.  I got one flat.  My third of the Rally.  Many of the other South Racing guys got 20 flats in the Rally.  

There were three dune sections apart from one another.  Each was a giant, imposing, scary mountain.  Like 30 story building size.  No kidding.  Maybe higher.  

The first one we failed right at the top and had to turn around.  We were overheating.  Oh my gosh.  Very hot engine.  While we waited there on a plateau, putting water in, Dennis bummed more water off a local spectator, as I observed other cars failing.  90% had to turn around.  Where were they going now.  Around to the left.  We got the car cooled down and went that way.  When you are in the dunes, you have to make fast decisions.  Your foot cannot come off the gas or you will get stuck.  I have to say, I felt like I was a pro dune driver that day.  

The second dune was bigger than the first.  The sand was very soft.  Lots of vehicles were stuck.  A car was on its roof.  A truck on its side.  We came over a crest to find a giant uphill off-camber (leaning to one side) climb to get out.  Vehicles were stuck at the bottom.  I floored it.  We had to abort close to the top.  As I turned down, I realized we were in a giant bowl.  Maybe 200 yards wide and 8 stories deep.  If we get stuck in the bottom of this we are doomed.  I did not want to go to the bottom.  Engine screaming. What to do?  

I tried to go around the circle to buy time, look around, and make a decision.  It was like I was circling a giant toilet bowl.  Around I went.  Half a rotation, building speed and trying to figure out what to do with it.  If I turned more uphill, I’d lose a lot of momentum and traction.  I sped the lowest part of the rim and tried to figure out what was on the other side if I tried to crest it.  

Braaaaaaaaaaaaa!  Around I went – faster.  I did 1 1/2 full circles, turned downhill some to get a straight line up the other side.  Dennis was cursing in his helmet.  Up, up, up – crest!  I made it out!  Dennis starts shouting how that was awesome and great job.  I hope I have that on GoPro!  No time to celebrate averting disaster on Stage 12 – I had to assess where I was now, and how to get back to the race course.

After some fast sections, the third giant dune section came.  We blasted up but had to go off course to avert a race truck.  Giant black lava boulders appeared among the light brown sand.  More and more of them.  We made it to the top, but the course had gone left a long time ago.  We could see it down there.  We moved slowly over big black lava balls from watermelon size to three-foot diameter.   We made it back to the course!  A race truck passed on course as we were coming into it and took a picture of us. I am sure he could not believe what he was seeing. I wish I had that picture!  Oh man, this stage was all drama!  It was wild!  

11 hours in the car.  A semi-final test.  Passed.  We knew the last Stage tomorrow was short – only 140 km.

We were now 17th overall in our class.  We had a 1 pm start time tomorrow, so I could sleep in.  

After all that, first I had to breathe.