On Joining a Cult
There’s a Fire:
I rolled over. Everything hurt. A lot. I groaned. At the age of 54 I’ve become quite an expert at ‘dad sounds’. I’ve been practicing them since my forties. As I de-tangled myself from bed sheets, white-hot fire skittered through every muscle. Through bleary eyes I leaned into my phone mount to make out the time. Yup, 4:45 am.
Like a genuine recidivist, I rolled over and again re-ignited fire through my rebellious corpse. Three weeks of my ‘cult’ experience and I was hurting. The hazing was taking a toll. Let me explain.
A New Midlife Crisis Hobby:
We are officially empty nesters. Kind of. Technically. Of course, you wouldn’t believe me since my wife has spent almost every weekend in Fayetteville Arkansas, at the illustrious University of Arkansas, (Sooie pig!) where we dropped off the last of our five children. The only girl in the rug-rat lineup, so it’s understandable on my wife’s part. They’re pretty tight. So I figure, “Hrmmm, I need a new midlife crisis hobby.”.
No, the expensive camera for my new photography obsession, or the action camera for my YouTube idea, or my Surly Midnight Special (you’ve heard of her) weren’t quite enough to get me over the mid-life hump. Maybe a Harley? In pure weird idiotic fashion, I went and did something stupid. But I have a plan.
For the last thirty years, I have been perfecting the dad-bod. I have been wildly successful. The last several months have been a massive challenge to find time for the bike, for the gym, and for cooking my food. I thought, “If I can’t find time maybe I can manufacture it.”. Thus the cult. ‘The Five AM Club’ promises that if I take control of my mornings I can elevate my day.
The idea (if perfectly executed) is that I would do strength training in the mornings three days a week, and the other days would be spent working on writing projects. I would use part of the week for the body, and the other for the mind. Well, remember that part about ‘if perfectly executed’? Almost twenty-one days and if anything could be said about this experience, ‘perfectly executed’ would not be a descriptor.
Go Easy on the Bourbon
Taking control of your morning requires much more than just waking up in the dark hours of the morning. It requires a perfectly executed evening. One half of the day folds into the other. This means, no staying up late talking to the kids on ‘Whats-App’. It means, no more than one small bourbon, and only if followed by a half-gallon of water. It means getting in bed by 8:30. There are a lot of sacrifices on the back half of the day that need to work out before the front half can take productive shape.
The book reads weird. Strange over-the-top characters that drop to the ground mid-conversation to do pushups. Butterflies that flit around till landing on the ‘gurus’ shoulder, and odd little dances no one in their right mind would perform during an in-depth conversation about discipline and commitment. There are some good maxims in the tome, but other than the real concept regarding the benefits of waking up at five am, the book reads like something out of Grimms Fairy Tales.
Comittment
I’m committed to finishing the book despite its oddity, and I’m still working on that 100% execution of the five am club, but the positive here is that I have increased the total weekly bike miles, I’m back at the weight training and have even dropped a little bloat. So I guess, I’ll continue this ‘cult-life’ for a while longer and see where it takes me. As weird as the book is, any book that helps push me to be at least 1% better is a win.
(marked ‘safe’ from using generative AI)