Here’s to emulating the legendary Jackrabbit Johannsen

“All my life I have been anxious to see what lies on the other side of the hill, and at the same time I have never failed to enjoy the scenery along the way.”

Jackrabbit Johannsen

I’ve always wanted to live to 100. 123 would be better (because it’s the world record, DUH!!).

Not sure why.

I guess I have a lot of things to do. Maybe I’m scared to die.

Somehow… this goal seems fitting for me. More on that later.

Either way, after reading “The Legendary Jackrabbit Johannsen” by Alice E. Johannsen (the daughter of the book’s subject), I’m convinced the burning desire to “see what lies on the other side of the hill” is the very thing which will keep me going.

The next job, goal, project…passion.

Once the curiosity for discovering limits flickers out, I envision peacefully falling asleep.

Once my spirit of inquiry fades away, I see myself just accepting whichever semi truck steers me off a Colorado cliff, classic rollerskis strapped to the bottom of my bunion-filled feet and propelled by my (hopefully) still ripped bow-legged legs.

Right up until my end, I plan to be busy. Just like Herman “Jackrabbit” Smith Johannsen, who started his race in 1875 and crossed the finish line in 1987.

Speaking about his way of doing things, the Norwegian-born Canadian continues:

“With all my senses ‘tuned in’ – sight and hearing, taste and smell and touch – I was able to reap full benefit from each experience. So I say, set your goals high, and stick to them, but approach them step by step so that at any given time your expectations are not impossibly out of reach. Climb your mountain slowly, one step at a time, following a well-planned route. And when at last you stand upon the summit, you can look beyond, to the farthest horizon!”

There is so much to unpack there. And all of it resonates richly with the path I feel to be walking down. Or climbing up, rather.

Let’s start with being ‘tuned in.’

What does that mean?

Johannsen hints at the senses — sight, hearing, taste, smell and touch — but to me, these are metaphors for vision, wisdom, experience, awareness and action.

Vision

Living with intention and purpose requires a vision. What am I striving for? Why?

Answering these questions creates a clear vision and colors one’s ‘sight’ with a specific lens. All of a sudden, life’s tribulations and triumphs are viewed for what they really are: stepping stones towards a meaningful pinnacle. An individual destiny. A unique summit.

No one can do it on their own, though. There’s no way to be born with the knowledge required to maximize potential. One must receive wisdom. Words can only be heard.

Wisdom

• “Listen to my instruction and be wise; do not disregard it.” – Proverbs 8:33
• “So faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ.” – Romans 10:17
• “Whoever is of God hears the words of God.” – John 8:47
• “Get wisdom, get understanding; do not forget my words or turn away from them.” Proverbs 4:5

Experience

To taste is to use our most sensitive tool, the tongue, to simultaneously evaluate millions of stimuli and also make a subjective personal judgement. When I bite into a pizza slice, my tongue detects the saltiness of sausage, hints of Italian seasoning, the subtle differences between types of cheese and sauce — and sends a message to my brain to tell me if I like it or if it would (heaven forbid) be better with a slice of pineapple.

(The answer is no.)

When ‘life happens’ a similar phenomena occurs.

We bite into stuff. We taste flavors. There’s a bit of sweet and saltiness to every month, but our overall vision determines whether these things are truly ‘good’ or ‘bad.’

If you’re like Jackrabbit, you see every unavoidable stop on our individual route 66 as ultimately good.

“All things considered, we are the result of all our life’s experiences. We are richer, tougher, stronger because of them. They have been milestones along a rough road, adventures on our route.”

Awareness

As our car passed through eastern Colorado last month, Novi cried from her car seat, “Momma! It’s stinky!”

The smell of manure wafted across the interstate, providing a sharp distraction for my 2-year-old daughter.

She was aware of the cows in the fields and her dog in the backseat. She monitored her 13-month-old sister, Ella, and spoke on behalf of her. She knew what she wanted and when — “Trumpet Sound” should be playing on the CD (constantly) and she could use a cheese stick right about now.

With Novi, every dial in her brain turned up to the max. Developing toddlers and young kids don’t miss much, because they’re so present.

I believe far too many people let life happen to them. They react to the highs and lows with a visceral, undisciplined emotional response {to be fair, ‘undisciplined emotional response’ is a negative which we could also attach to toddlers….I feel like I need to say that since in the previous paragraph, I talked them up a bit.}

This inhibits “reaping the full benefit from each experience.”

Awareness is part and parcel with opportunity. Our alertness to the ever-changing narrative unfolding before our very eyes is what enables us to make each day a masterpiece….or a predictable, forgettable chapter in a novel no one needs to waste their time reading.

Be intentional with your time. Be optimistic about both highs and lows, death and life, knowing full well that “for those who love God, all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.”

The vivacious appetite Jackrabbit had for spending every minute in mission is something most would find exhausting. When he was 109 and finally head to spend part of his days in an old folks home, he was astonished by how dull people three decades younger than him were.

“There’s no spunk in them,” he said.

“No wonder they can’t do anything more exciting than just plain sit!”

Defiantly, Jackrabbit prevailed upon the authorities in the winter months to clear a path in the snow behind the residence. It became his “moose yard,” and he would spend 2 hours every morning, ski poles in hand, doing laps and smelling the “awful city air.”

Instead of wearing him out, his activity addiction was the very thing that kept him alive (and ‘fit and trim’) for over a century.

Action

I love imagination.

I can dream about trips I’d like to take, races I’d love to win, and mountains I’d love to climb.

Before I was married, I would imagine what it might feel like to hold my wife’s hand or kiss her lips. Of course, at some point, I got to feel it in real life. I reached out and grabbed her hand. I kissed her.

The sense of touch symbolizes action. At the end of the day, if you want to live the Plodcast way, you need to actually do something. The highest mountains are climbed the same way the low ones are: by taking a step..and then taking another one. Our summits are reached by etching out of our busy schedules those 15-minute increments dedicated to progress …and then faithfully executing the daily grind.

Jackrabbit’s said it best: “setting your goals high and sticking to them but approaching them step by step, so your expectations are not impossibly out of reach.”

So much paradox. So much to hold in one hand and balance with the other.

Whether it's striving for a college scholarship 
or trying to be a better spouse...
whether it's training for a long-off event 
or building a better house
(A poem by Ryan Sederquist)

Dreaming big isn’t just the thing of Disney movies, 5th-grade writing assignments, and fictional tales. Well, it is that, too, but it’s for everyday people like me and you.

That is, when we chip away at them with a flexible persistence (There. There’s my own paradox.)

In my own pursuits — athletic, academic, athletic and vocational — I’ll happily acknowledge my goals have been tweaked or modified for different seasons. That’s because progression is rarely neat. Sometimes it is (Usually with the people in the Disney movies and fictional tales), but in most cases (the 5th grade writing assignments in particular) we lose, we get cut and we discover we’re not really talented at all, but actually just barely average. We assume slipping into the giant mass of ‘society’ as just another blob was actually our real destiny all along, and our 5th grade teacher SHOULD HAVE just told us that right there and then when we turned in that silly paper!

Resisting this distressing ‘reality’ might be the heart beat of my modus operandi.

“Here lies Ryan Sederquist,” my gravestone might read.

“The oldest man to ever live in modern recorded history. Never has a man refused to give up on his dreams for so long.

Brilliant.

I’m not against the mundane. The mundane is actually where a lot of the magic is. I’m against not recognizing that we are truly individuals with unique, God-given gifts. I’m against not being a faithful steward to those gifts in the name of “settling down.”

Thus, even if my life goes down as completely ‘average’ on most accounts, I will strive to do that special thing God has laid out in advance for my life. I’ll keep climbing for that lofty prize.

Maybe then I’ll be able to “look upon to the farthest horizon.”

Final thoughts

Perhaps the reason this book touched me was because it seemed like I was reading a biography about myself, or at least what I hope my life could be: a full one, well-lived.

Jackrabbit is known for ‘bringing cross-country skiing to North America,’ a claim he himself denies. Nevertheless, throughout his 111 years, he certainly stood for and spread to others the essence of cross-country skiing: adventure, exercise, balance, nature, camaraderie, and exploration. His diary is filled with countless expeditions in his childhood Norwegian forests and the Canadian landscape he mapped.

But it’s not like his life was just some older version of today’s ‘experience-seeking,’ Youtube-making, Van-living millennial, wherein he only found time to wake up, drink coffee, and ski. I mean, sure, this blog is about skiing, mostly, so that’s one reason it makes the website’s cut.

But consider this:

Jackrabbit spent a period of his life in the military. He survived ocean storms. He experienced World Wars.

He spent years selling heavy machinery in Cleveland (imagine Johannes Klaebo doing that in the prime of his life!?). He went from being wealthy to poor, downsizing his house when his family was growing — how many of us can relate to that?

Through it all, however, he maximized each moment. He stayed true to his life-giving routines. He loved his family. He moved forward with hope.

He also had an unwavering belief in what he stood for.

At 104, he gave a “short blessing” to the 1979 graduating class of Laurentian University. When it was his turn to talk, he walked up to the podium, forgetting his speech in the hands of his seat mate. He proceeded to say this, without notes:

My Principal and fellow graduates.

These are times which strain our endurance and our capacity to overcome obstacles, but we should accept these difficulties and harships as blessing in disguise. We derive great benefit from hardships, because through them, we discover in ourselves talents we never thought possible.

This is a time to make use of our own initiatives, instead of waiting for the government – or someone else – to help us out!

We should appreciate all the blessing which we have.

We live in a country that has more to offer in physical and personal resources than any other country in the world. It is up to every individual to make use of these blessings, not only for his own sake, but for the sake of the country itself, which is made up of the collective strength of all its citizens.

Enjoy whatever you do, and do it to the best of your ability.

When he returned to his seat, the person next to him exclaimed anxiously, “But your speech! You left it with me.”

Jackrabbit replied, “Never mind. I didn’t really need it. It’s only paper, anyway. You see, if you have the strength of your own convictions, you really need very little else.”

I would be remiss to mention the ending of this book, where Jackrabbit acknowledges one of the real secrets to his long and productive life. His words stirred my emotions in a way only a few books, in a few, poignant lines, have.

“Well,” he said on his 100th birthday, 12 years after his wife, Alice, had died.

“I married the right girl.”

Later, on the books final two pages, he is quoted as saying, “I can’t thank her enough for all the comfort and support she gave me.”

“She really made me what I am.”

I sort of half-joke that my goal is to represent Team USA, one day, at some point.

The dream was “real” when I was kid (probably from one of those 5th grade writing assignments), and then it morphed into a different, but still very real dream again as I’ve “matured.” My logic goes like this: at some point, they’ll need to fill the 94-99 age group roster spot for the Master’s Pickleball World Championships, right? If I miss the cut, I’ll just create the 100-104 category….

If I fail there, it won’t be a failure really. It will just drive me to live another year. And another. To pay off my tease from the top of this page, I think the goal of living longer than anyone else is a kind of appropriate target for me. Outlast the competition. Never give up. Just wake up. Climb up. Until I’m 123.

I can do that. I’ve got the burning desire, for now.

And I have a great wife, too.