Hard Labor

Hard labor is a good thing…especially for kids.

I was reminded of that when a local contractor (and neighbor) removed my over-grown hedge this last weekend. He has a snow plowing, lawn service business on the side while still working a full-time job and acting as a volunteer fireman too. He often brings his two sons along to help him in his projects.

This particular weekend the temperatures were hovering in the mid-nineties with humidity plus. He and his sons labored for two days and got the job done. As they were sawing the twisted branches, yanking out stumps with a chain and hauling the refuse away I thought about my own experiences growing up and doing hard labor.

Me in grade school

Beginning in seventh grade, it might have been a paper route in the middle of winter and twenty-below zero temps that put a crunch in my step. It might have been summers working in a steel factory and stuffing paper towels down my shirt so the sparks didn’t burn my belly. It might have been winters unloading furniture trucks with a wind chill factor of eighty below zero outside which limited our time outdoors to ten minute stretches at best.

Whatever happened to making the kids work while growing up? I think what happened was too much screen time, fear of hurting the little ones feelings by pushing them and wanting to be their best friend instead of a parent with all the trials and tribulations that are a part of that job.

Florence's curio shop

Beginning at age six, Sharon was working alongside her father doing farm chores. She continued that pattern by working in her Aunt’s curio shop on the North Shore, summer waitressing jobs, and receptionist work all during college. After graduation, it was a series of extra tasks associated with her teaching career until local and national politics grabbed the lion’s share of her attention.

Brian and Melanie haven’t had a problem putting their kids to work with chores around the house and other assorted tasks outside. When Brennan and Charlotte come to visit Nana and Papa there are always projects to complete outside. Thus far, it hasn’t seemed to have hurt or maimed them in any way.

Whatever happened to old fashion hustle?  I’m sure I’m dating myself but it’s almost as if ‘old-fashioned’ and ‘outdated’ are dirty words now. The idea that the old way of doing things has now been replaced by algorithms and screen time is as outdated as the notion that ‘new’ is really new.

The Colorado twins were on skis while still in diapers and doing black diamonds shortly thereafter. Each of them following the lead of their older sister. Brian knew that if that’s what his kids wanted, they’d have to hustle for it…and they did exactly that.

Borrowing liberally from an excellent article in the Minneapolis Star Tribune by guest columnist Harvey Mackay:

“There are a number of attributes a person needs to succeed in life. Two of them are outside of our control – talent and luck. Hustle is the third component, and it can definitely be developed and cultivated.” He goes on to say: “Good things may come to those who wait, but only those things left by people who hustle. I’ve always felt that it doesn’t take special ability to hustle, just a burning desire to get ahead. Anything you lack in talent can be made up with desire.” That’s exactly the message I’m trying to get across to my grandchildren. ‘Thank you, Harvey Mackay.’

The past does repeat itself. New today is old tomorrow. But basic values like truth and honesty and real work are as basic as the oxygen we breathe every moment of our lives. As old-fashioned and outdated as we often saw our parents and grandparents, their simplistic take on the world still holds value today.

The only down side of hard labor are sore muscles and exhaustion. Both will pass but the knowledge that one hustled and persisted is something you can hold on to forever.  I want that for my children and their children. It’s a nice legacy to have.

Smelling a Bigger Barn

Triathlons are the newest craze among the healthy and fit. Now that three-event endurance challenge has even trickled down to the younger set. Hence it came to be that over two Saturdays; once in Colorado and again in Minnesota, my wife and I found ourselves as support crew for several young enthusiastic triathletes. We were head cheerleaders as all five of our grandchildren who completed in triathlons this last month.

After forty plus years of running I have resigned myself to a treadmill at the gym and trail runs weather permitting. Mountain climbing in Palm Springs doesn’t count since I can pace myself there and fake looking out over the horizon if I need to take a break and catch my breath. So it was with more than a bit of envy and tremendous pride that I watched our grandkids blast through their events with a youthful enthusiasm and unwavering zeal that made even the placid volunteers look in wonder.

For me these triathlons represent not only an admiration of their physical endurance at a young age but more importantly an appreciation for my grandkids’ love of exercise and the great outdoors. Instead of preaching ‘less screen time’ both my kids are providing alternatives to the numbing brain-dead zombie rituals other children have with their hand-helds. They’re giving their kids, my grandchildren, a love of the sport and nature as well.

At the end of an ultramarathon (one hundred miles or more) veterans have a saying to describe the rush of adrenaline they feel coming into the home stretch. It’s called ‘smelling the barn.’ At both triathlons there were youngsters as young as four years old participating. Triathlons are no different than hundred milers for them…a little more variety but just as grueling…hence it should be called ‘smelling a larger barn.’

Competition runs deep in both the LaComb and the McMahon households. During the winter months, the Colorado kids have Black Diamonds for breakfast (defined as a very difficult ski slope based on length, width and gradient) and double-black diamonds for dessert. The Minnesota munchkins began doing triathlons last year as well as short races the last couple of years. Their parent’s theory: ‘Start them young with a plethora of outdoors activities and it will become a mindset and very natural to them for the rest of their lives.’

Maya, the eldest, already has two fourteeners (ascending a mountain over 14,000 feet in height) under her belt. The grandkids have been on soccer and gymnastics teams since they were younger than young. How many seven-year-olds play eighteen rounds of golf or go on a mile run with their mom?

To put it in perspective, the Colorado twins are seven and a half as is Brennan. Charlotte just turned five. Maya comes in as senior at ten years old. When I was their age I was just learning to climb aboard my fifty pound Huffy cruiser and maneuver that boat around the neighborhood. 

Perhaps it’s a generational thing. Brian and Melanie both ran races when they were youngsters and engaged in other sports. We’ve done some trail climbs in and around Palm Springs and now this third generation seems to be picking up the pace. I couldn’t be prouder.

Truth be told, I just have to keep up with those youngsters. There’s tradition to uphold and all that…right?