Andrew Vontz

We took yesterday off. Back with a media diet to kick off the week from Andrew Vontz (AV), who was introduced to us by the great Eric Matthies (who recently wrote the board shaping edition). Check out his pod on endurance (and possibility) called “Choose the Hard Way.” Have a great week. -Colin (CJN)Tell us about yourself.I grew up in Kansas City, Missouri, and learned most of what I know about life and work from pushing a lawnmower to earn money from sixth grade through college. I now live in Maine with my wife and two kids, but I’m still connected to KC. I mentor entrepreneurs through the Heartland Black Chamber of Commerce’s Encore program in KC and I’m also involved with AltCap’s NeXtStage KC alternative MBA program for minority and women entrepreneurs. I’ve loved riding bicycles since I threw a leg over the top tube of a green Schwinn Stingray with a sparkly banana seat and training wheels that are still hanging up in my parents’ garage in KC. I spent much of my youth riding around the neighborhood on BMX and freestyle bikes. For the past 33 years, I’ve been pedaling bikes with gears and from time to time racing them. I’m a mediocre competitive cyclist at best, but through a lot of hard work, I achieved the distinction of twice losing/getting second place at the event now known as the Unbound 100 gravel race.In my life, cycling is a meditation, a prayer, a practice. It’s a way to continually explore and learn more about myself and the world. It’s an organizational mechanism for my mind, body, and the rest of my life.In my first career, I was a freelance journalist for over a decade and wrote features, profiles, and essays about people, places, and things at the limits of human experience for outlets including The Los Angeles Times, Outside, Fox Sports, Salon, and Rolling Stone among other publications. Being a dad is my most important job and I love getting to draw, play music and climb on things more because those are things my kids love to do. I’m also the Vice President of Communications at Strava, the social platform at the center of connected fitness that serves over 84 million athletes around the world. My podcast, Choose the Hard Way, explores peak performance and the obstacles people overcome to do great things with guests from the arts, science, sport, business, tech, the military, and other disciplines.  I believe that you are what you overcome and I seek to inspire people to reach beyond what they believe is possible.  Describe your media diet. I’m lucky that my work encompasses many of the things I genuinely love. When it comes to my media diet, I’m like a filter-feeding whale and read/listen broadly/deeply/constantly about business, tech, policy, sport, connected fitness, human performance, health, wellness, cycling. I’m looking for patterns that can inform the now and help me see what’s next. Pubs I’m always checking out include WaPo, NYT, LAT, Bloomberg, Bloomberg QuickTake, Cheddar, FT, WSJ, The Atlantic, The Guardian, The Sunday Times, The New Yorker, Harper’s, Tech Crunch, Wired, Business Insider, the Verge, Axios, Protocol, Venture Beat, Forbes, Inc., FastCo, Politico, The Hill + all of the cycling and running outlets/podcasts in the U.S. and U.K. The Strava comms team also serves athletes in Brazil, France, Japan, Germany and Spain, so I stay dialed on outlets and media trends in those markets as well to inform our strategies there. A few things that delight me: Phil Gaimon’s YouTube channel (ex-pro cyclist pursuing fast times and cookies) Tom Morello on Audible (speaking truth to power through stories and songs), The FITT Insider newsletter/podcast (the business of connected fitness), The Huddle Up newsletter (business of sports), Stratechery, the Strictly VC newsletter, The Bloomberg Business of Sports podcast with Jason Kelly and friends, The Good Grief podcast from Blake Kasemeier, The Career Salon with the HR Twins (from my colleague Camille Tate and her twin sister Carla covering the workplace, career, hiring, DEI, AR), Matt Stephens Unplugged (interviews with pro cycling and pro-cycling-adjacent personalities), Colby Pearce’s Cycling in Alignment, The Beyond the Peloton podcast and newsletter (in-depth analysis and commentary on pro bike racing), Longform (journalists and journalism) and Citius Mag (running, culture, society).At night in the interstice between reading the last bedtime story/doing the last dish and falling asleep, I watch TV. Sometimes mindlessly. Often Guy Fieri. If I don’t have control of the remote, I’m probably watching hip husband/wife duos blowing out the wall between the kitchen and the living room to create--are you ready for this--a more open, modern floor plan. If I’m alone, I’m going down a YouTube wormhole, often related to communications, behavioral psychology or bike racing. What’s the last great book you read?I completed my MFA in creative writing at CalArts in ‘99 and used to really enjoy writing and reading fiction, but over time I had a harder and harder time getting into it to the point that I almost exclusively read nonfiction for years. For a reason I can’t remember, about a year ago, I gave the short story collection, Arrival (Stories of Your Life MTI), by Ted Chiang a shot. I’ve never been a sci-fi or fantasy reader and I’ve always preferred novels vs. short stories. But Arrival did it for me and my only regret is that it didn’t just keep going. From there, probably because an algorithm kept recommending it to me, I decided to roll the dice on scifi again and jumped into the Three-Body Problem trilogy by Liu Cixin. You know what? The algorithm was right. I slowly nursed the first two books and picked up all kinds of phrases I now love and enjoy using with other friends who have read some or all of the trilogy such as: give the order to rehydrate.It might just be because I’m a total stranger to the conventions of near-future, speculative, and science fiction, but these books took/take my mind to new places and make me consider the world in a different way. That’s exciting, that’s what I love about reading and I hope to find more books that do the same because I am a picky reader. Side note: I bought what I thought was the third book in the trilogy when I finished the second one and a few hundred pages into it, I realized that what I thought was the anticonfluential, nonlinear narrative of the third and final book in the Three-Body Problem was actually a different work from the same author. It’s called Ball Lightning, and I found it interesting enough that I didn’t just stop reading it (my general reading strategy for books is that if I don’t find what I’m reading to be interesting, I stop and read something else). What’s your reading strategy when you pick up a print copy of your favorite publication?There’s usually a cover line for an article I want to read and I go to that and read it, then work my way around from there. Growing up, magazines were my portal to a different world. They changed my life. Maybe it’s because I didn’t have a checking account until later in my lawnmowing career, but I didn’t have subscriptions to most of the magazines I read regularly. I was not a proficient BMX freestyle practitioner, but Freestylin’ was my favorite magazine, especially the writing of Andy Jenkins. It helped me think beyond where I was and got my dreaming about southern California and a way of life not oriented around a human being’s proficiency at ball sports that was vastly different from the reality of my grade school life. God bless my patient and loving mom who would drive me to the Ward Parkway Mall to go to the Town Crier magazine stand at least twice a month to check to see if Freestylin’, BMX Plus, BMX Action, or, later, Thrasher or Transworld were on the stand. Then, when I got into riding geared bikes in eighth grade, it was about going to Gary Gribbles Sports, also at the mall, which carried VeloNews (back when it was tabloid-sized on newsprint), Winning, and other endurance sports magazines. Magazines were my window into worlds outside of my surroundings. Reading them and the piles of books my mom would give me over the years + encouragement from my sixth-grade teacher, Mrs. Sosinski, who complimented an essay I wrote about my mom’s chocolate chip cookies, and the support of my high school journalism teacher, Mr. Bubalo, made me want to pursue a career as a writer. Later I would write for Bicycling, pen an At The Back column and a few other pieces for VeloNews (a life goal for me because it was the closing column on the last page of the mag, which I read religiously as a teenager), and write for many of the magazines that I loved. Today--most people don’t care about magazines. Somehow random magazines show up addressed to us in the mail, but I know we didn’t sign up for them. I do buy print publications periodically, usually, zines or limited-edition runs like Raze, a ‘zine from Mark Twight’s Nonprophet project, or Defy Apathy, a print project exploring the dimensions of the construction of truth from filmmaker/photographer/writer Eric Matthies. Who should everyone be reading that they’re not?The local free weekly, classifieds, or print zine. Where I am, that’s the Free Press. The experience of holding physical newsprint may be dying, but the awkward fumble of holding paper unlocks a different connection to place and information that’s worth having. What is the best non-famous app you love on your phone? It’s not an app, but my favorite feature is the off button. Like everybody, I’m posthuman and simultaneously love being connected to all knowledge in the world while also knowing I use my phone way more than is healthy for me or the people around me.  I’m not great at using the off button. But life is always better when I turn my phone off and tune into life as it happens. As Daniel Tiger says, enjoy the wow that’s happening now.Plane or train?I would prefer to teleport. Until that technology works, I would never pass up a chance to ride the Durango-Silverton or Cumbres & Toltec narrow-gauge steam railways. What is one place everyone should visit? The physical location of a friend or family member you love. Tell us the story of a rabbit hole you fell deep into. Ethnographic nonfiction that takes readers deep into subcultures like Karl Taro Greenfeld’s Speed Tribes or Simon Reynolds’ Generation Ecstasy has long been a favorite genre. Most wormholes take me into similar worlds, often via YouTube. The Formula 1 series on NetFlix did so and even led me to dig back through the WITI archives for everything written about F1 here. As a journalist, I persistently scanned for whatever was happening at the fringes of culture / in the underground that might bubble up and become something big or that was really odd but intriguing that I would then try to get someone to pay me to go live/write about. That’s how I ended up in Miami in 2007 at a tattoo parlor where the followers of a self-proclaimed antichrist were all getting 666 tattoos. That’s not my gig anymore, but I still love seeing what is bubbling up in subcultures or areas of life that I don’t experience directly daily. Ever since I wrote about Jay Cutler, now a multi-time Mr. Olympia (the highest achievement in bodybuilding, the equivalent of a Super Bowl win or Olympic gold medal), back in 2004 at a time when he’d twice been runner up at Olympia, I’ve had a different and high regard for bodybuilding, its relative merits aside, as one of the most all-consuming and challenging of sporting endeavors. I’ve written about Tour de France cyclists, UFC champions, NASCAR drivers, and pros in mainstream sports. But none had a regimen as extreme as Jay who lived like a human side of beef. He trained an hour a day, then had to restrict his movement and consume a diet blander and more monotonous than any regimen Jack Dorsey has ever tried. Jay would get up in the middle of the night to do cardio or eat extra pounds of orange roughy so his body didn’t start consuming his own muscle in the night. That experience led me to one of the deepest rabbit holes I’ve gone down via the YouTube vlog of the Synthol-swollen, Frankenstein-ian bodybuilder Rich Piana, RIP. Before his passing, Rich made a name for himself through his rambling videos about his training and the parts of bodybuilding that until then most people in the sport had taken great pains to avoid speaking about.Rich was that rare combination of subject matter expertise, eccentricity and an innate gift for a story that made him like Hunter S. Thompson and Chris Farley rolled into one repping out on the lat pulldown machine at your local gym. Rich had a true gift as an entertainer and his rambling content, including his marriage in a sleeveless tuxedo and matching shorts, was without parallel. I never met him, but I wish I had. (AV)Thanks for reading,Noah (NRB) & Colin (CJN) & Andrew (AV) —Why is this interesting? is a daily email from Noah Brier & Colin Nagy (and friends!) about interesting things. If you’ve enjoyed this edition, please consider forwarding it to a friend. If you’re reading it for the first time, consider subscribing (it’s free!).

The Tuesday Media Diet with Andrew Vontz

Andrew Vontz (AV) is the creator of the Choose the Hard Way podcast, a former Strava executive, and a communications advisor. Andrew here. In 2004, Jeff Kerkove and Guitar Ted, then employees at Europa Cycle & Ski in Cedar Valley, Iowa, dreamed up the 350+ mile Trans Iowa gravel race. More than 90% of the race took place on gravel and dirt roads. Riders carried what they needed or picked it up at Casey’s General Stores and gas stations along the way. People have ridden around on dirt roads, gravel roads, and trails as long as there have been bikes. Trans Iowa repurposed terrain most cyclists wrote off as unremarkable to forge a new racing format that was equal parts competition, camaraderie, and radical self-reliance. When I heard about the event, it reminded me of the DIY ethos I’d experienced playing in punk rock bands, helping put out ‘zines, and street skating.Why is this interesting? is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts, join the subscriber-only Discord, and support interestingness, become a subscriber.By 2013, gravel was still a fringe cycling genre but popular enough to merit a feature in the New York Times about the race today known as the Unbound Gravel 200. That year I entered and competed in the race known today as the Unbound 100, actually a 104-mile race, which was more than enough challenge for me. I didn’t know what to expect, and my goal was to win. Instead, I got a dose of why gravel was different and special. Thousands of people lined up and started at the same time, set off in a dust cloud, and drilled it. I took a wrong turn and rode an extra 40 miles. I stopped to fix a few broken bikes so their riders could finish the race. I got to take in the beauty of the last remaining swathe of Tallgrass prairie on a route with few cars and limited rules—just a start, a finish, a timing chip, and a checkpoint to refuel. A stranger gave me a chocolate chip cookie. We all chose to do something hard and had more fun doing it together.Gravel racing has always had completers—participants whose goal is to finish the event—and competitors whose goal is to win. Both are there for the challenge and the vibe they experience, and to contribute to the challenge and the vibe, which is often characterized as The Spirit of Gravel. It’s a phrase that’s shorthand for a feeling, and also an unwritten code that governs etiquette and competition in a gravel race.Why is this interesting?In the years between the birth of gravel racing and today, cultural tailwinds accelerated the growth of the discipline. Smartphones, screens in cars, and the pervasiveness of distracted driving made cyclists more weary of road riding. Social media made it possible for elite gravel racers to sell their status, storytelling, and lifestyle to sponsors rather than just race results. The pandemic put a pause on many live events, but gravel races kept going, and they tapped into cyclists’ resurgent hunger for adventure and getting outside. Guitar Ted was among the inaugural inductees into the Gravel Hall of Fame when it opened in June 2022. It’s located in Emporia, Kansas, which has come to be known as the global epicenter of the discipline. The Unbound Gravel 200 is now the most prestigious event in the sport. It has drawn World Record holders, World Champions from other cycling disciplines, and riders who have raced at the Tour de France and other World Tour events, the highest level in all of cycling. Entry into Unbound is now via a lottery that sells out more than 4,000 slots to events of varying distances the moment registration opens half a year before the event. The level of talent in gravel races is so high that Keegan Swenson, America’s top gravel racer, was selected to represent the U.S. at the road cycling World Championships, organized by the UCI, the governing body of cycling, and held for the first time in Veneto, Italy, on October 8th and 9th. A protracted debate about the way the UCI organized and executed the event and its intersection with the Spirit of Gravel raged following the event.Conditions have changed. Yet pro gravel racers, particularly those who have lost a race they felt they could have won, continually invoke The Spirit of Gravel as a shield to defend their performances or use it as a cudgel to attack their competitors who they perceive to have violated the unwritten code. Pro gravel racing doesn’t pay NFL or even MLS money. The athletes at the top of the discipline make their livings from sponsorships and their ability as storytellers and promoters on social media and in the press. That’s where the debates about The Spirit of Gravel happen. Is it in The Spirit of Gravel to use aerobars: handlebar extensions usually reserved for races where drafting is forbidden, and riders can’t be in packs? That has been an ongoing debate that led sometimes gravel pro-Geoff Kabush to write an article in 2018 declaring, “You’re an idiot if you are running aerobars.” Is it in The Spirit of Gravel for pro athletes to bring teammates and work in a coordinated fashion to shelter a leader and provide them a better shot at winning, as is common practice in road racing? Or should it be every person for themselves as it was in the early days of the sport?Professionals and amateurs, people of all ages and genders start at the same time in most gravel races. What happens if a rider in the pro women’s race drafts teammates in the race who are men? Is that in The Spirit of Gravel?What if a rider in the women’s race drafts her husband and ends up winning the race? Is that in The Spirit of Gravel? What happens if some riders in a lead pack have plenty of water because they wore hydration packs and attack at a water stop when riders who brought water bottles have to refill? Is that in The Spirit of Gravel?Each scenario has spurred an intense debate on social media and in the press. Rules vary from event to event and organizer to organizer. There hasn’t been a move to standardize rules for the biggest and most influential races—all of which happen in America. But the sport is evolving fast, and the rules may change over time to explicitly ban or permit these behaviors.There once was a time when gravel events were temporary autonomous zones, and every participant helped author the collective code of The Spirit of Gravel. Now, the loudest voices with the highest status on social media fight to control the narrative about what constitutes The Spirit of Gravel. Narratives drive behavior in organizations, communities, cultures, and society. For now, the story of The Spirit of Gravel is not a story about what’s sporting or not. It’s a story about narrative control. Yet when elite athletes enter a timed race with a start and a finish, their purpose is to win or finish in the lowest cumulative time. There may be times when they compete as a training exercise or to prepare for a bigger objective. But in general, the point of being there is to go as fast as possible within the boundaries of whatever rules circumscribe the event and the sport globally in service of earning a win. What happens in between is fodder for The Spirit of Gravel. (AV)—Thanks for reading,Noah (NRB) & Colin (CJN) & Andrew (AV)—Why is this interesting? is a daily email from Noah Brier & Colin Nagy (and friends!) about interesting things. If you’ve enjoyed this edition, please consider forwarding it to a friend. If you’re reading it for the first time, consider subscribing.