
Honza Pokorný
35.4K posts

Honza Pokorný
@_honza
Reformed Presbyterian, Red Hat engineer, Openshift, coffee, photography, plant-based, old books, FP fanatic, emacs, text interface lover, jazz; RT ≠ endorsement

















The quiet revolt against tracking every damn thing in fitness is upon us and getting louder. This Manologue column is exploding. Read it and let me know. Are you unplugging too? Let me tell you a story: For over fifteen years, I’ve started every single day the exact same way: walking my dog. It began in 2009 with our first Labrador, Mr. P, and it continues today with our current lab, Lyla. Different dogs, same routine. I wake up, get the kids ready for school, see them off, then grab a leash, grab the dog, and head out for a 20 to 30 minute walk around the neighborhood, usually about a mile and a half. I’ve done this walk in five different cities across two states, from the Intracoastal in Delray Beach to downtown Dallas fitness trails to quiet suburban ponds, and now back in Florida along various lake trails near my house. I loved these walks because they’re simple and relaxing. I was outside, getting fresh air and sunshine, feeling my blood start moving and spending quiet time with my dog. There was no “goal”. No plan. My mind wandered wherever it wanted, and more often than not, that wandering produced story ideas, book concepts, chapter transitions, Manologue columns and creative solutions I didn’t even know I was looking for. Then I screwed it all up. It started with podcasts. Like many of you, I discovered there were more podcasts I wanted to listen to than hours in the day, and since I worked from home with no commute, I decided my morning walk would be the perfect time to catch up. At first, it seemed harmless enough. I put in my headphones, hit play, and walked as usual. But something quietly disappeared. The good ideas that used to show up on those walks slowly vanished. My mind stopped drifting and started consuming. Instead of letting thoughts wander, I was processing information, absorbing advice, and filling every quiet moment with someone else’s voice. From there, things escalated the way they always do when optimization enters the chat as my kids say. After listening to one pod I decided to start tracking my walks, so I got a WHOOP to monitor my heart rate and make sure I was hitting that super coveted Zone 2 cardio. But, WHOOP didn’t track my route, which meant I had to add the Nike app to log mileage, pace and time. I then listened to a guy share how a breathwork app was the perfect way to start his walk, so I figured I’d try that. Before long, I was monitoring my walk across my phone, a tech wearable, three apps and, yeah, still listening to a podcast. Then the optimization fitness bros explained that walking was fine, but if I really wanted to level up, I should be rucking. So then I added a 20-pound vest, and my peaceful morning walk officially became an exercise in obsessive compulsive protocol. What used to involve grabbing a leash and heading out the door turned into a full preflight checklist. Vest on. WHOOP charged. Nike app activated at the exact moment I stepped outside. Podcast queued. Phone synced. Headphones in. I had tech on my wrist, in my ears, and in my pocket, all in service of optimizing something that had never needed optimizing in the first place. Soon, I stopped looking forward to my walks altogether. I wasn’t noticing the birds, the trees, or the water. I wasn’t talking to neighbors anymore. I wasn’t letting my mind wander. I was just another jagoff marching around the neighborhood, locked into Zone 2, tracking distance in an app, listening to someone explain how to better optimize a cup of coffee with some BS new algae powder, all while wearing a weighted vest and looking like I was about to deploy overseas.... Read the full Manologue and how I snapped out of this nonsense (and how you can and should, too) for FREE HERE: midlifemale.com/how-i-stopped-…











