Interesting commentary, Michael. As someone whose lifestyle revolves around similar activities, this prompted a considerable amount of reflection on the friendships in my life, and what fuels and strains them.
While I've been fortunate to avoid season-ending injuries thus far (knock on wood!), work-related travel takes me away from the People's Republic for upwards of four months per year, resulting in a physical disconnect from the activity-based communities that you speak about. While I try to keep in close contact, my efforts are often futile (example 1: our current game of phone tag), and it's common to go from April-September without speaking with many folks.
When I get back home, re-entry is a mixed bag. While social joy dominates, and many friendships start exactly where we left off, some require some priming before they're back to their full intensity (a bit like a liquid fuel stove). Sometimes my departure makes certain friendships untenable, and people fall off the radar.
Heck, that doesn't even cover the perpetual long distance friendships. Some are tighter than a figure eight that just took a 20 foot whipper, some are lukewarm, and some are in the process of petering out, even if I'm actively fighting against that current.
I don't believe that the dynamic you're describing is at all unique to an activity-based friendship, but is more emblematic of the challenges of building community in a culture that advocates for quantity against our desire for quality. There's a tension between this article and "The Highest Impact Thing You Can Do in Your Everyday Life". While there's so much beauty in the "friendship cascade", we each have a social carrying capacity, and quality surely takes a hit when we stretch ourselves too thin for the purposes of quantity. Without a substantial foundation of quality to undergird a social connection, the introduction of external disruptions (e.g. an injury, move, breakup, etc...) is easily enough to knock the train off the rails. Where and how this quality originates, whether it's from biweekly high density days, monthly phone calls, or an annual trip, doesn't necessarily matter. What matters is that the friendship's anchor is built in a fashion to be unquestionably strong for the anticipated load, plus a margin for error. We can't do this for everyone our modern, massive social networks, but if culturally we work towards building robust social support networks rooted in quality, people might be less likely to fall through the cracks.
Your metaphors are, as always, impeccable. I think though that your most insightful point is the “building community in a culture that advocates for quantity against our desire for quality.” I wonder if the tendency to seek out quantity is itself an attempt to find quality?
I’m glad that our friendship’s anchor is more bomber than the questionable belays I set up in Eldo. I will call you soon.
Like you, my friend groups form mostly around sports: my cycling team, friends from the local pool, the trail running scene. (Ideally, I’ll get back into climbing this year.) Another upside of activity-based friendships is that just about anywhere I travel to, someone will tell me that they have a cycling/swimming/running friend who I should meet.
My friends in NYC complain of loneliness while they are surrounded by millions; my cyclists friends have an immediate tribe no matter where they are.
But the downside is that my social life can feel divided based on what I’m doing and, like yours, can wither if I’m injured. So I’ve tried to add a couple of non-active social institutions to the mix: First, the good old fashioned picnic. (Come when you can, bring a dish and drink and friend.) And second, “backyard coffee,” which I learned from my friend, Hack. Every Friday morning from 8-10 am: invite all the friends over for something baked and whatever magic comes out of the home espresso machine. That way even if I separate my shoulder again (please no), I still see the homies on a regular basis.
Yes I’ve got a weekly book club, dungeons and dragons, and an irregular evening “news review” that all act as non-active activities. I’m bad at balance but trying to be better!
"It can feel like being social in a big city is synonymous with “spending money” whereas, once you’ve got some gear, a lot of these activities are free." - I might just be cynical but I think the biggest cost to friendships these days is accountability. I would argue that it's never free bc there's so much effort required in bringing people together and making plans. In NYC or other dense cities, people often only drink/eat as an activity but atleast there's always commitment - there's little need to be accountable for someone's availability.
Again, could just be my cynicism or lack of faithful friends but it seems like such a big lift, to gather a room or car full of willing friends. Whether we're playing board games or going to the park or climbing walls, people aren't accountable and reliable like they used to be. I miss the ease of having somewhere to be on any day in NYC, there's always 'something' - even if it's just bar-hopping. Maybe I need to take notes from you on finding groups of yes-sayers.
Sure, perhaps the biggest cost is actually time. Finding folks that aren't flakey is a critical first step but there are always options for how to spend your time.
Interesting commentary, Michael. As someone whose lifestyle revolves around similar activities, this prompted a considerable amount of reflection on the friendships in my life, and what fuels and strains them.
While I've been fortunate to avoid season-ending injuries thus far (knock on wood!), work-related travel takes me away from the People's Republic for upwards of four months per year, resulting in a physical disconnect from the activity-based communities that you speak about. While I try to keep in close contact, my efforts are often futile (example 1: our current game of phone tag), and it's common to go from April-September without speaking with many folks.
When I get back home, re-entry is a mixed bag. While social joy dominates, and many friendships start exactly where we left off, some require some priming before they're back to their full intensity (a bit like a liquid fuel stove). Sometimes my departure makes certain friendships untenable, and people fall off the radar.
Heck, that doesn't even cover the perpetual long distance friendships. Some are tighter than a figure eight that just took a 20 foot whipper, some are lukewarm, and some are in the process of petering out, even if I'm actively fighting against that current.
I don't believe that the dynamic you're describing is at all unique to an activity-based friendship, but is more emblematic of the challenges of building community in a culture that advocates for quantity against our desire for quality. There's a tension between this article and "The Highest Impact Thing You Can Do in Your Everyday Life". While there's so much beauty in the "friendship cascade", we each have a social carrying capacity, and quality surely takes a hit when we stretch ourselves too thin for the purposes of quantity. Without a substantial foundation of quality to undergird a social connection, the introduction of external disruptions (e.g. an injury, move, breakup, etc...) is easily enough to knock the train off the rails. Where and how this quality originates, whether it's from biweekly high density days, monthly phone calls, or an annual trip, doesn't necessarily matter. What matters is that the friendship's anchor is built in a fashion to be unquestionably strong for the anticipated load, plus a margin for error. We can't do this for everyone our modern, massive social networks, but if culturally we work towards building robust social support networks rooted in quality, people might be less likely to fall through the cracks.
The bottom line is... you should call me :).
Your metaphors are, as always, impeccable. I think though that your most insightful point is the “building community in a culture that advocates for quantity against our desire for quality.” I wonder if the tendency to seek out quantity is itself an attempt to find quality?
I’m glad that our friendship’s anchor is more bomber than the questionable belays I set up in Eldo. I will call you soon.
Like you, my friend groups form mostly around sports: my cycling team, friends from the local pool, the trail running scene. (Ideally, I’ll get back into climbing this year.) Another upside of activity-based friendships is that just about anywhere I travel to, someone will tell me that they have a cycling/swimming/running friend who I should meet.
My friends in NYC complain of loneliness while they are surrounded by millions; my cyclists friends have an immediate tribe no matter where they are.
But the downside is that my social life can feel divided based on what I’m doing and, like yours, can wither if I’m injured. So I’ve tried to add a couple of non-active social institutions to the mix: First, the good old fashioned picnic. (Come when you can, bring a dish and drink and friend.) And second, “backyard coffee,” which I learned from my friend, Hack. Every Friday morning from 8-10 am: invite all the friends over for something baked and whatever magic comes out of the home espresso machine. That way even if I separate my shoulder again (please no), I still see the homies on a regular basis.
Yes I’ve got a weekly book club, dungeons and dragons, and an irregular evening “news review” that all act as non-active activities. I’m bad at balance but trying to be better!
"It can feel like being social in a big city is synonymous with “spending money” whereas, once you’ve got some gear, a lot of these activities are free." - I might just be cynical but I think the biggest cost to friendships these days is accountability. I would argue that it's never free bc there's so much effort required in bringing people together and making plans. In NYC or other dense cities, people often only drink/eat as an activity but atleast there's always commitment - there's little need to be accountable for someone's availability.
Again, could just be my cynicism or lack of faithful friends but it seems like such a big lift, to gather a room or car full of willing friends. Whether we're playing board games or going to the park or climbing walls, people aren't accountable and reliable like they used to be. I miss the ease of having somewhere to be on any day in NYC, there's always 'something' - even if it's just bar-hopping. Maybe I need to take notes from you on finding groups of yes-sayers.
Sure, perhaps the biggest cost is actually time. Finding folks that aren't flakey is a critical first step but there are always options for how to spend your time.