What have you done today?

"What would you attempt to do if you knew you would not fail?" - Dr. Robert H. Schuller

I've heard this quote innumerable times. In fact, it was on my second grade teacher's bulletin board -- incorrectly attributed to Albert Einstein, but that's besides the point (it's also a little ironic if you're someone that throws around the phrase, "Epic fail"). Anyway, my point is that I've been asked this question so many times but I've never even considered my own answer to it. The fact is, however, that we humans do pretty amazing things. Check out just a few of my favorite amazing feats:

64-Year-Old Kayaks Across Atlantic Ocean

These days airplanes can take you across the pond in less than seven hours against a headwind. Crossing an ocean just isn't really a big deal anymore because when you're sitting in a chair in the sky, you have more important things to focus on like the gross airplane food. But this guy did it in a kayak. Alone. And he qualifies for AARP discounts. He even tweeted a little bit. Follow him! This guy's average speed was only 1.4 miles per hour during his trip from Senegal to Brazil, and he got there in 98 days, 23 hours, and 42 minutes. And the first thing he did when he landed was pop open a beer! He's awesome.

20-Somethings Perform Insane Hand Choreography

There are no words for this. Next time you hear this song at a party or in the background on Jersey Shore, think of these clapping prodigies. Also, you make recognize them from a McDonald's commercial for McLattes... curious.

College Students Raise 9.5 Million for Pediatric Cancer

Just some college kids, raisin' some money for some kids. No big deal.

The Penn State IFC/Panhellenic Dance Marathon, or THON, is the largest student-run philanthropy in the world. This past weekend, THON raised over 9.5 MILLION dollars going towards treatments and research for pediatric cancer. As a Penn State student inolved in THON, I can honestly say that it was an honor to have participated in something so much bigger than me -- even bigger than life at the University Park campus. Probably bigger than anything any of us will ever know. Margaret Mead once said, "Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it's the only thing that ever has." THON, although with over 15,000 students participating may not count as small, is a testament to this belief, and when the day comes that a cure for cancer saves billions of lives, we can know that we were integral to changing the world.

In so many different ways, humans manage to awe each other with strength, diligence, and commitment every single day. What are you going to do to be one of them?

Train dodge. Dig it.

Every single summer, I vacation at my family's two-room beach house in Strathmere, New Jersey, a town known mostly for being that stretch between the toll bridges connecting Ocean City and Sea Isle City. Exactly one square mile large, Strathmere is too small for a public sewage system, let alone a cable grid. There's only so much sun a fair-skinned redhead like myself can withstand, so at least once a summer I scour the local video rental store's limited selection of VHS tapes. It doesn't matter whether I've spent the majority of my summer making sandcastles, riding my Razor scooter, or sneaking out to the lifeguard stands; I always arrive, sunburned and sticky with aloe lotion, to the same battered movie case, and I know I won't be searching past the "s" section of tapes. I'm bringing home Stand by Me. 

Back in our warped, shag-carpeted living room, I follow Gordie LaChance, Vern Tessio, Teddy Duchamp, and Chris Chambers on their two-day trek along the railroad tracks in search of the corpse of Ray Brower, a fellow twelve-year-old rumored to have been hit by a train.

Like slipping on my leather flip flops for the first time since September, I take comfort in the film's familiarity and savor the anticipation of an unforgettable summer adventure. Stand by Me has taught me invaluable lessons about growing up, having friends, enjoying the present, being yourself, and dodging trains. And still, even though I know the secret knock, where the stolen lunch money went, and all the lyrics to the "Ballad of Palladin," I learn something new every time I watch the move, which has to be in the hundreds. Teddy taught me that little moments, like sitting around a fire with your best friends, can sustain you through tougher times in other aspects of your life. Vern is incessantly teased (one of my favorite lines: "Sorry, Vern. I guess a more experienced shopper could have gotten more for your seven cents.") yet he's earnest and not afraid to be himself, even it that's kinda weird. Gordie and Chris (who I'll always have a little bit of a crush on) also emphasize the importance of forging your own path, whether it's becoming a writer or lawyer, despite the obstacles your past will put in front of you. When I watched it when I was little, the characters seemed so much older than me -- practically adults. Now that I'm way closer to adulthood than they are, they still seem much wiser than I am.

I never had any friends later on like the ones I had when I was twelve.
Jesus, does anyone?

Go with the Snow

The news channels are flickering with shots of snow plows maneuvering tons of slush, a leashed dog and its owner negotiating icy sidewalks, and a multicolored map of your area with blobs of white moving so fast you immediately feel some sort of urgency. Letters in red glide across the bottom of the screen: "WINTER STORM WATCH: Severe snow storm expected in next 24 hours."

Challenge accepted.

February is pretty late in the game to get excited about snow. By now your boots look like a yeti had them for a snack, your mittens are constantly soggy, and your 'do is permanently in a matted, static-y state of hat hair. However, this is the snowfall homestretch. You've honed your expertise for months. It's game time. Let's review the events:

Practicality at its chilliest.

• Snow stepping: Everyone else is wearing clunky boots. You stepped out in sneakers/moccasins/flip flops. But since you're a seasoned veteran of the season, you can still get around. While this noob ahead of you is trudging through the snow in nylon and rubber boots, you're prancing along behind him by stepping in all the nice foot-shaped holes he left for you. 
• Flake catching: If all the rain drops were lemondrops and gumdrops, nobody would care because catching candy is way less fun than catching snow flakes on your tongue. Advanced flake catching takes a steady eye and a low center of gravity. Weeks of plyometric training has prepared you for this moment.
• Shoveling: Aside from a great source of cardio and maybe some extra cash, excellent shoveling is a great way to make a name for yourself in the neighborhood. Dog-walkers and postmen alike will rejoice at the easy strides they can enjoy of your little strip of concrete. Good shoveling requires the right combination of salt and athleticism. Some say good fences make good neighbors. I say fences divide us. Sidewalks bring us together. And there's no better way to spread the love than shoveling not just your own sidewalk but also your neighbors. It helps if you do it perfectly.
• Igloo constructing: Igloos and/or snow forts are useful in many situations, including having a bunker for heated snowball fights and sitting inside and patting yourself on the back for making an igloo in the first place. Elaborate architecture is especially impressive. At the very least, add a shelf for your snowball arsenal. If you wanna get fancy, there's no limit of the roof angles, flying buttresses, home theaters, etc.

While everyone else is flocking to the grocery store for eggs, milk, and bread (apparently french toast is a snowstorm staple food) you're warming up for the big day. It's the calm before the storm, and not the kind your weatherman is talking about. You're going El Nino on this snow. Just because you might be too old for snow days doesn't mean you can't use it as an excuse for a good time. You're gonna own this snow. Get out there and make this snow your bitch with athleticism and, as we will always encourage, an optimistic disposition of competition and gratitude.