Not metaphorically.

Literally.

What started as another chapter of life became an unexpected heart emergency that led to surgery, recovery, and a confrontation with my own mortality.

At the time, I had just started a new position at Meta.

I was focused on work.

Focused on building.

Focused on what came next.

Then life interrupted those plans.

Looking through these photos today, I see more than medical procedures and hospital rooms.

I see uncertainty.

I see fear.

I see my family standing beside me when I needed them most.

I see a version of myself that had no idea what the next few days would bring.

Today my mother and sister reached out to check on me.

They wanted to know how I was feeling.

The honest answer is that physically, I feel good.

Life has been good.

I don’t feel broken.

I don’t feel sick.

I don’t feel like anything is wrong.

And maybe that’s what makes this anniversary feel complicated.

Two years later, I find myself standing at another beginning.

Another new opportunity.

Another new job.

Another season of growth.

But this time there is a small voice in the background reminding me of what happened before.

Part of me doesn’t want another checkup.

Not because I expect bad news.

Because I don’t want my life interrupted again.

I don’t want another surprise.

I don’t want another chapter focused on hospitals, procedures, and recovery.

But mindfulness has taught me something important.

Avoiding uncertainty never removes uncertainty.

It only delays our relationship with it.

Two years ago, I learned that life can change in an instant.

I also learned something else.

Human beings are remarkably adaptable.

We recover.

We rebuild.

We learn to trust ourselves again.

We find joy again.

And if these past two years have taught me anything, it’s that life is still worth showing up for.

Today I am grateful.

Grateful for family.

Grateful for skilled doctors.

Grateful for a body that continues to carry me.

Grateful for every parkour session, every meditation, every conversation, every sunrise I almost took for granted.

Two years later, I’m still here.

And that’s enough reason to celebrate

The trip to Georgia to see family and celebrate my daughter’s graduation was exactly what I needed.

It gave me space.

Space to reflect.
Space to breathe.
Space to accept what is.
And most importantly, space to move forward.

Sitting outside in my mother’s backyard, listening to the rain and watching nature unfold around me, felt like alignment.

Not because everything in life is figured out.

But because I was present enough to appreciate the moment.

So much of my life today is built around mindfulness.

I don’t claim to be the most enlightened person in the room, and I certainly don’t have all the answers.

What I do know is that I’m a little better each day.

A little more aware.
A little more patient.
A little more accepting.

That’s enough.

Over the years, I’ve learned that meeting life with love and awareness feels a lot like my favorite saying:

Consistency over intensity.

Small actions.
Daily practices.
Intentional living.

Those things compound.

Once I returned to Colorado, I jumped back into Apex Speed Runs with Ryan Ford and the growing community of athletes over 40 who continue to train and practice parkour.

It was a great session.

Being around people who are committed to growth, movement, and longevity reminds me why I continue to show up.

I can’t wait for more days like that.

At the same time, the PKOver40 SKOOL community continues to evolve.

What’s interesting is that I’m finding more traction offline than online.

More conversations.
More interest.
More adults willing to show up for themselves in person.

And honestly, I understand.

Anything meaningful takes time to build.

Trust takes time.
Community takes time.
Transformation takes time.

For now, I’m focused on staying committed to the process.

My health remains primary.

Meditation.
Rest.
Joy.
Resistance training.
Good food.
Movement.
Presence.

These aren’t things I do anymore.

They’re becoming who I am.

And with all the new opportunities, challenges, and changes happening this week, I feel grounded knowing I have practices that continually bring me back to myself.

The older I get, the more I realize that success isn’t about becoming someone else.

It’s about becoming more fully yourself.

For me, this lifestyle isn’t a phase.

It’s not a challenge.

It’s not a temporary fix.

It’s my design.

— Howard

I’m currently on a three-day trip to Georgia for my daughter’s high school graduation.

And honestly… I couldn’t be more proud of her.

Watching your child reach a moment like this does something to you internally. It reminds you how quickly life moves, how much people grow, and how important it is to remain present for the moments that truly matter.

It’s been a while since I’ve been back in Georgia.

And somehow, almost every time I’m here, it rains.

This morning, I stood outside listening to it fall while looking out across the backyard. Everything slowed down for a moment.

The trees.
The silence.
The smell of rain.
The stillness in the middle of transition.

And maybe that’s why this trip feels meaningful to me.

Because life lately has been full of profound changes.

New directions.
New responsibilities.
New goals.
New uncertainty.
New growth.

At times, it can feel overwhelming trying to hold all of it together while continuing to move forward with intention.

But I’m learning something important through all of this:

You have to stay open.

Open to change.
Open to growth.
Open to love.
Open to becoming someone new without abandoning who you’ve been.

That openness creates peace.

Not because life suddenly becomes easy…
but because you stop fighting every transition as if it’s happening against you.

Some things are meant to challenge you.
Some things are meant to redirect you.
And some things are meant to bring you back to what truly matters.

Right now, I feel deeply grateful.

Grateful for my daughter.
Grateful for this moment in her life.
Grateful for health.
Grateful for movement.
Grateful for the opportunity to keep rebuilding myself while still being present enough to appreciate the journey.

Life keeps changing.

And maybe the real practice is learning how to meet those changes with enough love and awareness to still recognize joy when it arrives.

That’s where I am right now.

Present.
Reflective.
Hopeful.

And listening to the rain.

— Howard

Over the last few months, I’ve been deeply focused on rebuilding:
My health (body and mind), My life structure, My finances, My mindset, and My future. Lots to do. Part of that journey has led me back into coding and full-stack development. Seriously! And honestly it has been both exciting and humbling.

For years, I worked in networking, infrastructure, and operations. I understood systems, troubleshooting, pressure, communication, and technical environments at a high level. Lots of falling, not failing. When I fall, I get up.

But sitting down to build applications, learn modern development workflows, use AI coding tools, and train my brain in a completely different way again is fucking HARD. That’s a different kind of challenge.

At 45, I feel my ego wants to protect me from being a complete beginner. That’s what I’ve noticed most of all. It wants to skip the confusion, skip the mistakes, skip the feeling of not knowing and forget about the curiosity behind it.

I know learning doesn’t work that way. So I’ve had to approach coding the same way I approach parkour and mindfulness. One repetition at a time, one session at a time, and one problem at a time.

That mindset has changed everything for me in life. Keep the focus I say. Knowing I’m not chasing the idea of becoming “successful overnight.” I’m training adaptability; RIGHT! That matters deeply after 40. I know it.

The world changes quickly. Technology changes, cartoons change, industries change., opportunities change, even identity changes. Now we are learning how to put security around AI.

A lot of people quietly stop learning because they believe their path is already decided. I’m starting to believe the opposite.

My 40’s might be the most important time to learn something new. That’s how it’s been so far.

I know I’m not old nor am I young, but I still feel alive mentally, creatively, and spiritually. That’s what this coding journey feels like.

Some days I’m studying full-stack workflows and AI-assisted development.
Other days I’m doing deliveries, applying for jobs, training parkour, building PKOver40, or trying to stay balanced enough to take my wife on a date and still meditate before bed.

And somehow… all of it feels connected and all of it works.

Consistency creates transformation. I’m willingness to continue showing up as a beginner long enough for growth to happen. I will. I can. I MUST.

That’s where I am right now.

Learning again.
Building again.
Adapting again.

And honestly…

I’ve never felt more mentally alive.

— Howard/Cosmo/… Sanjel

PKOver40.

One Dark Universe.

Becoming Cyber.

Meditation.

Movement.

Parkour.

Cybersecurity.

Podcasting.

Coaching.

Technology.

Mindfulness.

For a long time, I thought these were separate identities I needed to organize into one “perfect” business model.

But recently I had a realization:

They were never separate.

They were always chapters of the same story.

At 45 years old, after more than 20 years working in technology and network engineering, I’ve come to understand that the deeper practice underneath everything I do is adaptability.

Not productivity.

Not motivation.

Not optimization.

Adaptability.

Learning how to remain human in a world moving faster every year.

Learning how to stay physically alive in a culture that slowly disconnects us from our bodies.

Learning how to regulate stress, fear, burnout, uncertainty, aging, and reinvention without losing curiosity.

That is what movement taught me.

That is what meditation taught me.

That is what technology taught me.

That is what life continues to teach me.

So moving forward, I’m officially evolving this space into:

## One Dark Universe: Human Adaptability After 40

This is not me abandoning PKOver40 or movement culture.

In many ways, parkour saved my life.

But I now understand that parkour was never the entire message. It was the visible proof of something deeper:

- courage

- resilience

- adaptability

- nervous system regulation

- learning

- aging consciously

- staying curious

- rebuilding identity in public

The truth is:

Most people over 40 are not searching for “parkour.”

But many people are searching for:

- clarity

- mobility

- emotional grounding

- physical confidence

- mental resilience

- reinvention

- community

- purpose

- peace

Especially those of us working in high-stress digital environments.

So this next chapter will focus on documenting that journey honestly and publicly.

You’ll continue seeing:

- movement practice

- meditation and breathwork

- reflections on technology and AI

- aging and longevity

- mindset

- career rebuilding

- nervous system health

- creativity

- fear

- discipline

- spiritual growth

- what it means to remain adaptable after 40

Not from the perspective of someone pretending to have all the answers.

But from someone actively living the process in real time.

I’m not interested in becoming another polished internet “guru.”

I’m interested in becoming more human.

And helping others do the same.

Thank you to everyone who has supported this journey so far.

This next evolution feels less like starting over… and more like finally understanding what I’ve been building all along.

— Howard Palmer

One Dark Universe

I had the opportunity to meet up with three of the top US Apex Speed Run masters alongside the creator of the entire concept and reality itself, Ryan Ford.

After a long week of:

• job hunting

• full-stack developer training

• deliveries

• gym sessions

• parkour practice

• building weekly training videos for the PKOver40 SKOOL community

• and making 20 prospecting calls a day to businesses…

…it felt incredible to simply be outside.

Present.
Moving.
Laughing.
Training with people who genuinely love the practice.

That space reminded me why balance matters so much.

Because even through the pressure and responsibility, I’ve still made time to:

• meditate

• go on dates with my wife

• breathe

• rest

• and reconnect with myself

So Sunday didn’t feel random.

It felt like the reward for staying committed to the process.

Not perfection.
Not “making it.”
Just continuing to show up with intention.

At 45, moments like this hit differently.

I don’t take health, movement, friendship, or community lightly anymore.

I’m deeply thankful for the people who were there yesterday and for the energy we created together.

More than anything, I pray this wave of love, health, peace, and light continues.

And that no matter how busy life becomes, wellness remains primary.

Consistency over intensity.

— Howard

On Wednesday night, I went to open gym at Apex Movement Denver and spent time training with friends.

Then Thursday morning, we met again in Boulder.

Two simple days:
movement, conversation, challenges, laughter, presence.

Nothing forced.
Nothing performative.

Just people coming together through movement.

And honestly… I needed that.

Over the past few months, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about discipline, consistency, and building structure in my life. Those things matter deeply to me now.

But this week reminded me that peace also matters.

Not the kind of peace where life is perfect
but the kind you create intentionally.

The kind that happens when you stop rushing.
When you stop trying to prove something.
When you allow yourself to simply experience the moment you’re in.

While training in Boulder, I was also able to complete a community challenge that I had wanted to do for a long time.

Being over 40; 45 specifically… I don’t take moments like that lightly anymore.

Not because I doubt myself…

…but because I understand what it takes to continue showing up physically and mentally year after year.

There’s gratitude in that now.

Gratitude for health.
For movement.
For friendship.
For another opportunity to grow.

And maybe most importantly:

Gratitude for being able to create a space of peace within myself.

That’s what this journey has become for me.

Not chasing the biggest challenge.
Not trying to become someone else.

Just continuing to return to myself through movement, mindfulness, and community.

That feels meaningful.

And at this stage of life… meaningful matters more than impressive.

Consistency over intensity.

— Howard

Gym 2–3 days a week.
30-minute walks every day.
Weekly videos for my Skool community.

From the outside, it looks solid.
And honestly it is.

This level of structure is something I’ve worked hard to build.

But recently, I’ve noticed something…

I haven’t trained alone.

Not in the way that made me fall in love with movement in the first place.

No unstructured sessions.
No time where I’m just out there… moving, exploring, being free.

Everything has had a purpose:
fitness, content, consistency, progress.

And while all of that matters…

I can feel the difference.

There was a time when I used movement as an escape.
Now it’s become a discipline.

But somewhere in that transition, I may have left less room for freedom.

So I had to ask myself:

When did structure start replacing freedom?

Because the truth is; nothing is wrong.
I’m doing the work. I’m showing up.

But freedom doesn’t just exist on its own.

It has to be protected.

For me, freedom in movement looks like:
training alone…
no camera…
no expectation…
just being present with whatever shows up.

That’s different from a workout.
Different from creating content.
Different from teaching.

And all of those things are valuable…

But they’re not the same.

So now the question becomes:

Can I build a system that allows both?

Discipline and freedom.
Structure and exploration.

Because if this is truly a long-term practice. [ The Long Game - Documentary ]
then it has to be sustainable on every level.

Not just physical… but mental too.

That’s what I’m working through right now.

And this week, I’m making space for it.

I’ve already scheduled time to train alone tomorrow.
No plan. No pressure.

Just movement.

Just me.

And honestly… I’m excited.

Because maybe that’s the next level of this practice:

Not just showing up consistently
but making sure there’s still space to feel alive in it.

Consistency over intensity.

— Howard

Movement.
Training.
Wellness.

What used to feel like effort now feels like home.

There was a time when I used fitness as an escape.
A way to step outside of the expectations of work, responsibility, and the roles I carried.

But over the years, something changed.

It stopped being an escape…
and became a space where I could actually be myself.

No performance.
No pressure.
No need to prove anything.

Just me…present, aware, and engaged in the process of taking care of myself.

That’s what this practice has become.

A form of meditation.

Not just sitting still, but moving with intention.
Breathing through effort.
Paying attention to how I show up in each moment.

And here’s what I’ve noticed:

When life shows up, stress, pressure, uncertainty…
my instinct is to get quiet and focused.

I don’t always feel the same “freedom” I feel when I’m training…

…but I understand the difference now.

And that awareness is powerful.

Because it gives me something to return to.

A baseline.
A practice.
A way back to myself.

What I’ve built through PKOver40 and now through my space on Skool is a reflection of that:

A simple system to rebuild strength, confidence, and clarity through movement.

• Parkour for awareness and adaptability

• Mindfulness and stillness meditation for grounding

• Walking for sustainable, everyday health

Nothing extreme.
Nothing performative.

Just consistent, intentional work that helps you feel like yourself again.

That’s what I’m committed to sharing.

Because for me, this isn’t just fitness.

It’s how I stay connected to who I am.

Consistency over intensity.

— Howard

It stopped being about performance and became about presence.

In the beginning, like most people, I trained for the clip.
The clean vault. The big jump. The proof that I could do something difficult.

But after a few years, something changed.

I started paying attention to how I moved.
How I breathed before a jump.
How my mind reacted to fear, hesitation, and doubt.

Parkour became less about what it looked like…
and more about what it felt like.

That’s where mindfulness entered.

Not as something separate but as something built into every movement.

When you’re standing in front of a jump, there is no past.
No future.
Only the moment.

Your thoughts get loud.
Your body tightens.
Your breath shortens.

And you have a choice:
rush through it… or be with it.

That moment that pause is the practice.

Through my study of yoga and mindfulness, and my path toward becoming a teacher, I started to understand something clearly:

Anything done with intention is a form of meditation.

A precision jump becomes breathwork.
A vault becomes focus.
A landing becomes awareness.

You’re not just training your body.
You’re training your ability to stay present under pressure.

That’s the real discipline.

Parkour gave me a space to observe myself … without judgment.
To learn patience.
To respect where I am, instead of forcing where I think I should be.

And over time, that practice carries into everything else.

Work.
Relationships.
Life decisions.

Because at the end of it all, it’s the same skill:

Can you stay present when it matters?

That’s what I’m training now.

Not just to move well…
but to live well.

Consistency over intensity.

— Howard

Not as a reset.
Not as a step back.
As a recalibration.

The past few months tested everything—finances, direction, stability. Living in San Diego gave me space, perspective, and a clear look at what it actually takes to build something real.

Now I’m here with one focus:
build consistency, create stability, and keep moving forward.

PKOver40 was never about location.
It’s about a mindset.

If you’re over 40, you already know:
You don’t get to rely on motivation.
You build systems. You build discipline. You build yourself—daily.

This is what I’m doubling down on:

• Movement that keeps the body strong and capable

• Training that respects longevity, not ego

• A mindset that stays steady under pressure

Parkour is still the vehicle.
But the real work is deeper than that.

It’s about proving—to yourself—that you’re not done.
That you can still adapt, still grow, still evolve.

That’s what PKOver40 is.

If you’re on that same path, you’re in the right place.

Consistency over intensity.

— Howard