Samith Pich

Llegó la época de hacer esto en la playa 😅

"He turned the volume up because he can't hear the dialogue. Now make the action scenes as loud as possible."

“Tell him to enter the password he knows is correct. Inform him it is incorrect. Invite him to reset it. Watch as he enters the password he believed it to be all along. Then tell him he cannot use it… because it is his current password.”

I strongly suspect some of us were not designed for modern life… We were meant to live in crooked little cottages, speak to birds, dry herbs from ceiling beams, and dramatically stare out of rainy windows whilst soup bubbled nearby! Instead…there are emails to be sent.

You’re standing on a planet with molten lava at its core. Trees are turning sunlight into air you can breathe. Your heart is beating without you asking it to. There’s a moon in the sky and bugs that glow. This whole thing is absurdly beautiful. Don’t forget to notice it.

got a framed copy to hang by the ai team

One of the biggest mistakes I made in my 20s and 30s? Treating warm-ups like they didn’t matter. I thought, “If I’m not lifting yet, I’m wasting time.” That mindset cost me. At 49, I look at training completely differently. Because the goal isn’t just getting through today’s workout. The goal is being able to train hard for YEARS without constantly getting hurt. Because injuries not only cost you progress, they mess with your mind. That’s why warm-ups matter. Especially after 40. You need to prepare your muscles, joints, tendons, and nervous system for explosive movement and heavy loading. And static stretching isn’t the answer. That’s why I prefer active mobility + athletic prep work like this: • Hip Flexor Stretch - 10 reps/side • Adductor Rock - 10 reps/side • Hamstring Stretch - 10 reps/side • World’s Greatest Stretch - 10 reps/side Then: • Jump Rope - 1–2 minutes • Lateral Bounds - 1–2 sets of 5 reps/side • Box Jumps - 1–2 sets of 5 reps This combination helps: • Improve mobility • Build athleticism • Reduce injury risk • Prime your nervous system • Help you feel faster & more explosive Most guys over 40 don’t need to stop training hard. They just need smarter preparation and better programming. That’s the difference. Are you a high-performing man over 40 who wants to build a body that stays athletic, powerful, and resilient? DM me “STRONG” and let's talk.

When I was a child our teacher taught us about risk, money and economics in the most interesting way possible: She made us run a pretend farm, as a competition. It was genius, because I still remember it three decades later, which I wouldn't have otherwise. It went like this: Every student had a ‘farm’ on a little piece of paper, with four fields. Every year you had to decide what crops to plant in what fields, and buy them with any available money. Some crops were like wheat; cheap, boring and low-yielding, but dependable. Others were like peas; expensive, super high-yielding if things went right, but unreliable. Get the wrong mix of sunshine and moisture for peas and you'd make a huge loss instead of making bank. We all competed for the most money over a series of ‘years’ and on each year the teacher would roll dice to determine if the weather was hot or cold, rainy or sunny. There were four combinations of weather for your four fields and up to four crops. There was all to play for, and you'd be built-up or broken by the roll of the dice. Some kids played it safe with lots of wheat and no risk. Others bet the farm on peas, peas, peas! Others hedged between sunny crops and rainy crops. With each round, a few of us exited the game and went bankrupt. The eventual winner had taken a lot of risk, but had hedged just a little bit and rode out the bad years. He got lucky, but that's what the game was all about. The teacher could have taught us by lecturing us. She could have gassed on about risk management and economics and market economics and blah, blah, blah… and been ignored by a bunch of teenagers. Instead she made it fun, she made it a competition! And after that short period, a classroom of kids walked out with heads full of strategy, debating how they'd run the farm, who got the most money and how they'd play differently if they did it again. In a little classroom in a Northern English secondary school, a bunch of adolescents had been introduced to capitalism and loved every minute of it! I forgot almost everything else from those years, but that lesson sticks with me. Good teachers really matter. And a little competition goes a long way.

In January 1913, Douglas Mawson pulled off his boots in the Antarctic snow and the bottoms of his feet came off inside his socks. He greased the raw skin underneath and taped the dead soles back on. Then he kept walking. He was 100 miles from camp, alone, with a dead teammate behind him. Two months earlier, Mawson had set out from a small coastal hut with two men: Belgrave Ninnis, a 24-year-old British army officer, and Xavier Mertz, a 29-year-old Swiss ski champion. They were mapping coastline no one had ever seen. They got 311 miles in. On December 14, 1912, Ninnis was running beside a sled when a hidden crack in the ice opened under his feet and swallowed him whole. It took his sled, the tent, six of their strongest dogs, and almost all their food. Mawson and Mertz lay flat on the ice and shouted into the dark for four hours. Nothing came back. The two men had about ten days of food left for a 300-mile walk home. They started eating the dogs. They didn't know that one husky liver alone is enough to make a healthy adult violently sick. The two of them were swallowing more than a hundred times the safe daily limit. Within weeks, their hair was coming out in handfuls and their skin peeling off in sheets. On January 5, half-delirious, Mertz bit off the tip of his own frostbitten finger to prove it was alive. He died three days later after a string of seizures. Mawson buried him under snow blocks and walked on alone. He sawed his sled in half with a pocket knife to lighten it. A few days in, the soles of his feet peeled off inside his socks. He bandaged them back to the raw flesh, pulled on six pairs of wool socks, and started walking again. Days later, the snow gave way under him too. He dropped 14 feet down a crevasse and stopped only because his sled wedged in the ice above him. He climbed the rope hand over hand, slipped near the top, fell back into the dark, and climbed it again. He staggered into the base hut on February 8, 1913. His ship had sailed for Australia a few hours earlier. Six of his men had stayed behind on the chance he might still be alive. The first one to reach him couldn't tell who he was and asked, "Which one are you?" The ship couldn't get back through the winter ice. Mawson spent another ten months on the continent before going home. He was knighted in 1914 and lived to 76. Edmund Hillary, who first climbed Everest, called his walk the greatest survival story in polar history. Marcus Aurelius wrote that line in his Meditations. Mawson lived it seventeen hundred years later, on a continent no one in Aurelius's time even knew existed.

@RonnieRiches Nope. I have better things to do like enjoy the day.

I’m warning you now, The next 3 months of your life, you should be online 18 hours a day. You have the possibility to make millions of dollars with little capital if you play your cards right Ignore the noise. Stay inside. Lock in

Me: sitting in a tiny ramen shop in Osaka, this is the best ramen I've ever had. Chef: normal nod Me: No seriously, this changed me spiritually. Chef: normal nod Me: I think I understand forgiveness now. Chef: please eat before noodles become soft. pause Me: Sorry. Chef: Foreign customers always do this. Me: Do what? Chef: Experience noodles too emotionally. Me: That's fair honestly. guy beside me suddenly joins conversation Random businessman: Last year this ramen saved my marriage. Me: WHAT? Chef: annoyed sigh, Please stop telling people that. Businessman: It is true. Me: How does soup repair a relationship? Businessman: My wife and I argued, then we ate here quietly, then things became less stupid. Chef: That was your own emotional growth. Businessman: The broth assisted. Honestly I fully believed him too.

People who intentionally created slower, softer lives… what did you remove first?

Consistency is the name of the game. 😤 Working through those pull-and-roll drills to sharpen the defense. Every rep counts when you’re chasing that world title. 🌎🏆

This sentences by Van Gogh hits hard: “If I am worth anything later, I am worth something now. For wheat is wheat, even if people think it is a grass in the beginning.”

OH MY FUCKING GOD. this book was horrific and disturbing and yes i finished it in one sitting and yes i feel nauseous and yes it’s my favourite read of the year. i’m going to go lay down now.

This is so good. I love Derek's essays.

If you are lost and cannot hear yourself anymore, stop asking for signs. signs are for people who still believe God owes them an explanation. go eat a meal alone, in total silence. no screen, no book, no music, just you and the food. chew slowly. say out loud before you start, thank you for what is dying on this plate so i can live another day. most men have not said those words once in their whole lives, and they wonder why the world tastes flat. the meat died for you. the plant died for you. the ground gave up something it was growing so you could open your eyes tomorrow, and you shovel it down watching videos of strangers yelling. no wonder you feel haunted. you are eating death every day without greeting it. do this for thirty days, one meal a day, silent with gratitude aloud, and you will hear something you have not heard since you were a child

Dostoevsky was 28 when they stood him in front of a firing squad. Blindfolded. Hands tied. He could hear the rifles being loaded. At the last second a messenger on horseback arrived. The Tsar had commuted the sentence. The entire execution was staged. Psychological torture designed to break him. It worked. He had a seizure on the spot. They sent him to a labour camp in Siberia. 4 years. Freezing. Starving. Sleeping on wooden planks next to murderers. His epilepsy got worse. He had no paper. No pen. Nothing. When he got out he was broke. His first wife died. His brother died. He inherited his brothers debts. He was so desperate for money he signed a contract with a publisher that would have given away the rights to everything hed ever write if he missed the deadline. He wrote The Gambler in 26 days to make it. Dictated it to a 20 year old stenographer named Anna. Married her three months later. Then the real work started. Crime and Punishment. The Idiot. Demons. The Brothers Karamazov. The greatest novels in the history of the Russian language. Maybe any language. The man who stood blindfolded before the firing squad, who convulsed on the ground while soldiers watched, who slept next to killers in Siberia for 4 years, who was buried in debt and grief. That man wrote: "every minute can be an eternity of happiness." He earned the right to say it. its never over. never give up fren.

The older I get, the more I believe happiness lives in the ordinary. Pets. Plants. A quiet morning coffee. Blue sky. Cotton clouds. Birds singing. The gentle breeze through the trees. A clean, cosy house. Good food. Good hearted simple poeple. So much of life’s beauty is quiet, gentle, and already here. And somehow, one of the sweetest feelings is knowing I get to wake up and meet it all again tomorrow.

There's this vending machine on this random mountain road in rural Japan that I passed during a hiking trip. Middle of nowhere, no buildings around, just this vending machine. I needed water so I stopped. The machine was fully stocked, drinks, snacks, everything. Prices were normal, not marked up even though it's the only vending machine for miles. There was an old man restocking it while I was there. I asked him in broken Japanese if he owns it. He said yes. Asked how often he comes to restock it. He said once a week, sometimes twice if it's summer and people are hiking more. I did the math in my head, the drive up there is at least 40 minutes from the nearest town, winding mountain roads. Gas, time, effort... there's no way he's making much profit. I asked him why he keeps it running. He said "someone might need a cold drink after a long hike." Then he told me he used to hike this mountain with his wife before she passed. They always wished there was a vending machine at this spot. So when she died, he put one there. "I restock it every week. It's like I'm still taking care of her, yunno? Making sure the mountain has what she wished it had." I bought three drinks I didn't need. It felt like the least I could do.