It’s an amazing thing.

It will leave you in one breathless moment desperate for more, and in the next desperate to escape it. It’s something you catch yourself brooding over for hours and hours on end, and something you never quite figure it out. It can hurt so, so bad, and be so incredibly euphoric at the same time. With it comes moments of such utter bliss, and such dark, clandestine moments of trial. Yes, Life truly is an amazing thing.

See what I did there.

Lately it’s left me a little bit puzzled, as it is often known to do. There’s been a few moments where I’ve felt just like I imagine Lloyd did when he brilliantly exclaimed, “Our pets’ heads are falling off!” (Yes, a movie I’ve seen probably 10 too many times. Google it. But if you’ve never heard of it you probably won’t get it. And not appreciate the reference. So maybe don’t worry about it. Ok sorry, back to the L word thing.).

It’s left my poor little Momento app bursting at the seams. Sometimes, for some reason, there comes a strange coalescence of events that kind of leave you thinking “huh?”, for reasons both good and bad. I’ve actually received some exceptionally good news over the last few weeks, while at the same time trying to sustain a battered faith in humanity. 

But I’ve discovered something. And you will too if you pay attention. Life has a way, over time, of assuaging the grief it itself caused. Did you follow that? If you let it, and keep your heart in the right place, it will take care of itself. In your darkest times, someone will be there to illuminate your life. In your deepest trials, something will transpire that will ultimately bring you back to the surface. It’s like clockwork, but you have to watch for it (and remember that it can sometimes come from the most unlikely of places). I’ve become pretty good at that, and perhaps have never been so sure that life truly is an amazing thing.

Remember, “the grass is greener where it rains.”

Anonymous asked: So here I am up late, after midnight, trying to finish my essay about Bodoni, and I stumble upon your website by googling his quote. I then got distracted reading about the successful Office Chair Movement and looking at your pictures. Since I really have to get back to my essay I've now bookmarked your website. Will pop by again later. I like the way you express yourself graphically and in writing.

/Lina (in Sweden)

Lina, 

Thank you so much for your kind words. Honestly, I have no idea who you are, and you are a half a world away, but you sort of made my day. Amazing how that could happen. 

I’m glad you’ve enjoyed some of what I’ve written, and the tales of the loony life that is mine. I appreciate you taking the time to drop me a note, and I do hope you come back. I’ll do my best to make sure there’s something worth coming back for. 

I hope your essay on Bodoni turned out well. I actually wrote a paper on him just a few months ago. If you’re still looking for information on him, do let me know, and I would happy to share my research. He was a total stud.

All the best -

Tony (in America)

So I’m sort of into biking. Not the cool kind of biking that gets girls. But the lower tech, goofier kind where you ride on skinny tires.

I put close to 1,000 miles on those skinny tires this year. I would ride a lot. During the summer, when it wouldn’t get dark until 9:00 pm, I would ride 20-30 miles every weeknight, then a longer, 50-70 mile ride every saturday. There was a goal of doing a century ride or two (an organized 100 mile ride), but my back wouldn’t have it. It was plagued by a lingering tennis injury suffered early in the year, and wouldn’t allow me to ride for more than 3 or 4 hours without throbbing in pain. Yeah that part sucked.

So let me tell you what I love about biking: it’s the freedom. I often set off on rides with little idea of where I was going to go. I would just start riding, decide to go left here, right here, down this street, around this corner. The only thing holding me back was my own strength. I love seeing new places, exploring new areas. I love learning new routes and finding hidden gems. And I can’t think of a better way to do it than on those two skinny tires.

And then there’s the obvious: the exercise. It’s hard to believe, but at the beginning of 2010 I was 35 pounds heavier than I am now. Crazy, right? I never thought myself to be big, but apparently there was some extra flub to be lost. And lost it was.

The unadulterated rush. Unadulterated meaning pure, clean. It’s a human powered rush. There’s something about flying down a canyon at nearly 40 MPH on two tires no wider than an inch, each inflated to 120 PSI. Stooped over the handle bars, no more than a couple feet off the pavement. And it’s perfectly silent. No engine. No muffler. All you hear is the wind flying past you. And YOU powered it. That’s cool.

And finally, the sense of achievement. I’ve sat at the base of some serious hills this summer, looked up, smiled, and thought, “I’m so going to climb that.” And then I did.

The rides this year were incredible. They were among the many things that set this year apart from the rest. And thus, they made the countdown.

Oh, and I’m doing the century next year. 

_________

That’s it!

This is the tenth and final post in my 10-part photo series to wrap-up 2010 (that, by the way, was in no particular order). The more astute among you may notice it’s ending on the 30th. The original plan was to end this on the 30th and then have a proper full-text ode to 2010 post on the 31st. It’s done and sitting in my drafts, but after reading it over (and over), I’ve decided that it probably crosses the line into “oversharing” territory, and will not be posting it, but instead will keep it for myself. It might satisfy your curiosity to know that it ended with, “So goodbye, 2010. I hope to never see the likes of you again.” Sorry if that actually makes you more curious.

This 10-post countdown was a lot more work than I was anticipating. I know at least a few of you have enjoyed it (thank you for your feedback!), but I think I just might have enjoyed it more. It’s going to be fun to read through these again on the eve of 2012.

I’m spent.

So, this one.

I went back and forth on this one for a while. Ultimately I decided that we’re all adults here, and while I have certainly moved on, there’s no denying that this young lady played a huge role in my 2010. I felt as if I would be remiss not to include this, if this whole thing was to be truly representative of the last year of my life. So there you go. There she is. There we are.

I don’t know why I chose this picture. I had plenty to choose from. Maybe because I think it captures well what was the essence of our relationship, and maybe because a classic portrait shot would have just been…weird. Maybe I subconsciously liked it most because you can’t really see my face.

In any case, what did—and more importantly—did not transpire between me and this girl largely defined my 2010. It was unfortunate, indeed. But that’s ok, and let me tell you why it’s ok. I’ve learned a whole lot, grown a whole lot, and ended up a better person on the other side. I know that I’ve included this solely because of the objective approach I’m taking to this whole 2010 wrap up thing. I can look at this picture without any feelings of regret, remorse, or thoughts of what might have been. I can look at it and remember the good times just as well as I can remember the not-so-good times. I can look at it, and then look forward. 

And that, my friends, is why it’s ok.

_________

This is the ninth in a series of 10 posts, counting down 2010 in the way that most makes sense to me: in pictures. I took a whole lot of pictures in the last year, but I felt like I wanted to select a few that maybe aren’t quite my favorite, but represent well the big themes of my life in 2010. Hit the “Old” button bottom right to see earlier ones. Enjoy.

It all started with this tweet:

“In an effort to not be enormous and to not die an early death, I’ve raised my desk about 3 feet, and will spend the next 8 hours on my feet.”

So I spent the next 8 hours on my feet. And then the next 8 hours. And then the next 8, and so on, for 55 (work) days straight. The combination of one too many articles about how sitting all day is slowly killing me and simply being tired of feeling like a fatty sitting all day motivated me to try out the standing desk. And luckily for me, I had a loyal comrade who committed to stand with me. And so we did, for two surprisingly painful days, and then—

Epiphany.

The chairs in our office were notorious for their overall abysmal quality, serious lack of cushion and general nastiness. You see, they happened to be the original chairs from when our office served as the WordPerfect headquarters, right about the time I was born. The. same. chairs. Chairs that have perched up who knows how many different people over those decades, and chairs that have undoubtedly absorbed more repulsive funk than one could possibly fathom. It might not be an overstatement to say that their continued use was an affront to mankind.

So it hit us, in a moment of brilliance, to spin this off as some sort of protest against said chairs. While it’s not the real reason we started standing, why not do something that might benefit the company as a whole? And we had a brilliant line that would have been a crime to leave unused: “Standing up for better chairs.” So we grabbed the poorest excuse of a chair we could find, tacked a sign on it, and officially made our stand.

While we totally loved the idea, we really weren’t sure what would come of it. The standing was far more torturous than we had expected. It just plain hurt. Feet, calves, the whole lot. Meetings, regardless of the matter to be discussed, were a godsend. They meant sitting.

News of our “protest” spread fast. It resonated with our colleagues who had in large part forgotten how repulsed they were by the grungy bum-holders they spent a third of their lives in. 

The support of those colleagues lifted us up when we wanted to sit. After about 30 days straight of standing, the pain started to subside. Still uncomfortable, but the constant throbs of pain began to ease. And so we continued.

Around day 40 we started hearing murmurs that the company was looking into new chairs, for not just us, but for everyone. At day 55, after 11 work weeks without the simple convenience of a chair, the news was confirmed, and we officially ended our stand.

And guess what? Everyone in our Orem office received new, cushy leather chairs, and now I spend about a third of my day in one, the rest of my time spent standing, for the same reason I orginally started standing: for my health.

So here’s to my health, cushy chairs, a seriously fun crusade, and a simply fantastic company.

I will always remember 2010 as the year I took a stand.

Hat tip to @davidlesue, exceptional designer and honorary stander, for his brilliant marketing and PR contributions to our campaign; and of course to @raelogan, for taking on the especially onerous task of selecting and procuring chairs for an entire company.  

_________

This is the eighth in a series of 10 posts, counting down 2010 in the way that most makes sense to me: in pictures. I took a whole lot of pictures in the last year, but I felt like I wanted to select a few that maybe aren’t quite my favorite, but represent well the big themes of my life in 2010. Hit the “Old” button bottom right to see earlier ones. Enjoy.