Rewiring Rhythm with BASE

 The Conductor
In those early years, I was the nerdy conductor, gripping logic like a baton. With epilepsy tilting my world and meningitis erasing chunks of my past, I craved control. Strength training delivered—sets, reps, and programs became my score, each lift a note played precisely.

 

I tracked every detail, building a fortress of routine to steady my rattled mind. But back then, I was following rhythms from borrowed sheet music—systems that others wrote—giving me focus but not freedom. My conductor ruled: craving structure over instinct, seeking order against the unknown.


The Sailor
The 1994 TLE surgery tweaked the tones of my daily rhythms. Seizures were not as frequent, and though meds still dulled me and fatigue lingered, my energy and listening capacities somewhat improved. My body's feedback was still an inconsistent riddle—strong one day, weak the next—but my curiosity grew.

 

Enter my insightful sailor. Beyond the midst of daze and drift, I began feeling some deeper stirrings. I was sensing my undercurrents: energy ebbs, muscle whispers, moments of clarity piercing my brain fog. Rigid anxieties slowly gave way to intuition; I learned to read my body's tides—its biorhythms—and navigate the swells. Where my conductor once dictated, my sailor listened and slowly learned, steering me through the unpredictable.

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The Musician

Over time, a third voice emerged: the mediating musician, blending my conductor’s precision with my sailor’s intuition. By 2008, my workouts became a symphonic performance—a rhythmic dance of logic and instinct. The weights turned into my instruments; each lift becoming a note within my personal symphony of kinetic fine-tuning. I felt the oscillation—force rippling through my shoulders, spine, hips—like a melody syncing my mind and musculature. This wasn’t just exercise; it was expression, a way to "love the load" and blend it, shape it on a much deeper level. My musician took center stage, crafting harmony from chaos.

BASE
From this interplay of conductor, sailor and musician, BASE emerged—

Balancing, Aligning, Sourcing, Engaging—a fluid framework to sync my body and mind. ​

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Created initially as a way to soothe my brain’s misfires, BASE grew into a symphony of metabolism, muscle, and metaphor. During each workout, I dance with an interlaced triad—tension, attention, intention—melding science and soul.

 

My musician fuses together my conductor’s precision with my sailor’s instinct, broadcasting signals across three overlapping grids:
 

• Metabolism: I fuel my body's orchestra with sound nutrition, along with a keen eye on my cognitive, digestive, sleep, and recovery cycles—adapting as my energy ebbs and flows. By exploring how these rhythms blend together, I've learned tactful ways to "fuel my fires." 

 

• Muscle: this energy, this "fuel" is how I "source my force" while lifting with the waves, my power cresting in smooth, bold reps, then receding as my strength dwindles. I perceive my muscle fibers as echo chambers, with each rep channeling waves of creative tensions within, throughout, and beyond my kinetic chain.

 

• Metaphor: I train with these biorhythms—using my body's endorphin cycles and neural signaling to trigger a deeper listening state. This "loving the load" mindset often weaves new understandings into my "spaced-out" brain circuits, allowing me to reflect and ponder while under pressure, slowly improving my memory and imagination.

 

BASE isn’t a rigid script I passively follow; instead, I long for engaging and continuously refining. It’s my musician’s craft, merging my conductor’s structure with my sailor’s instinct into a symphony of strength, force, and wonder. 

Rewiring Through Rhythm

BASE has sculpted more than muscle—it’s rewired me. My neural pathways hum sharper, honed by years of mindful effort. Since 2016, I’ve been off meds and seizure-free, a testament to how deeply this rhythm resonates inside me.

 

Each session is a dance: my sailor reads the currents of both the ocean and my orchestra—energy surges, subtle strains—while the conductor directs my orchestra's melody and tempo, guiding focus and precision. The musician mediates between my conductor's intentions and my sailor's instincts, signaling when to push, when to ease, adjusting the aperture so my force fits the movement. Training with my rhythms in sync—resistance turns into dynamic dialogue, clarity cuts through brain fog, and deeper connections spark new expressions.

 

At 53 years old now, I’m stronger, steadier, more attuned.

 

Is it neuroplasticity from years of deliberate, mindful reps?  Or maybe subliminal excitement from the anticipation of my next BASE symphony?
 

There are many complexities here, so I'll regress.

Simply put, rhythm heals.​