Interweb Finds

500 Before and After Weight Loss Pictures

(Thanks to Janice over at Fitness Cheerleader for sharing this on her blog.  Check her out!)

Turning Corners and Looking Back

Way back in September ’10, I had written a post that could arguably be my rock bottom.  We were about two months into my wife’s illness and life was just grinding me down and crushing my spirit.  I had happened across a blog by Jack Sh*t and, instead of immediately inspiring me, his blog…well…in many ways his blog took away what little wind that was left in my sails.  That post was probably the first, honest assessment of myself.  I remember the words crawling through my chest and down the underside of my arms, ripping themselves free and falling into the keyboard.  It was a painful post.

Jack picked up on it, to my surprise, and left a very encouraging comment.  He even went so far as to make our exchange a post of his own, for which I will always be grateful.  Suddenly I had so many readers—so many people visiting the stable.  I wasn’t really sure what to do with all the encouragement.

So I kept writing, making TJC something into my own personal journey rather than the exercise blog I had envisioned (where weight loss was a minor subject).  I’ve mostly shared, I think, the emotional side of my struggle which is at the heart of my growth.  Not everyone who came over from Jack’s blog stayed.  And that’s ok.  I have been quite content with the readership I have found.  And I’ve said it before, to those who have walked with me down this path for the long haul, and for the recent readers I seem to have picked up along the way, thank you.

I ran across that post while reviewing my blog and it got me thinking about where I had been and where I've gone.  

I’m back, in a significant way. Well, significant to me at least.  I’ve spent the last two weeks catching up on several blogs including Jack’s and many others who I used to follow until my depression had really taken hold and left me apathetic (It’s true.  I’m sorry. I wasn’t able to follow several of my fellow bloggers) I’ve found a few new ones too.  And I am getting inspired. And excited. Yet, I’ve also noted with some sadness that some authors have closed up shop.  

In that post, I said I wouldn’t know what I’d send to Jack for his W.I.D.T.H. program.  I think I know now.  I just recently came to this conclusion.  Since learning of my wife’s recent diagnosis, I thought it would be because of my realization that if I don’t get healthy, my kids have a slight chance of not having parents in 10-15 years.  But, as true as that insight is, it isn't the answer I finally discovered.

The real reason Why I Do This Here is much simpler than that.  And it’s something I’ve said for a long time but didn’t realize how important it had become: 

Why I Do This Here: Because I have to take care of myself before I can take care of anyone else.

Last Saturday I wrote that I feel like I’m going to turn the corner sometime soon.  I realize now that I’ve turned that corner a long time ago.

Wanna Run?

Last evening's jog (and yes, I did jog instead of plod so you know this is going to be a happy blog post) was simply wonderful.  You know that warm feeling you get in your legs when you are just in the groove and know it's going to be a good run?  I had that feeling all evening.

On Monday evenings, my son runs at a local county park with his cross country team.  Having nothing else to do, I decided that I, too, was going to run at the park.  This, of course, brought nothing but embarrassment and shame to my 14 yo son.  So I promised to run in the north end of the park, while he and his mates trained in the south end.

It has been almost a year since I have had the pleasure of running on earthen running paths.  This particular park had a 3 mile loop that went along and over oxbows, waterfalls, through meadows and forest.  Part of the path was maintained with mulch which felt wonderful to run on after the past month of running on asphalt!  It was a new week in the C25K plan, so it called for a new running duration of three whole minutes.  Three! Now, that might not seem like a lot, but let me tell you...when you are in as lousy shape and condition I am, 90 seconds was an eternity.  Last evening, however, the longer jog passed and I was wishing for more (I didn't, however, push it).  I ran alone in a quiet world save for my breath and some musical cues turned down to a bare whisper on my MP3 player.  It was work, but it was pleasure.

My run, of course, was much shorter than my son's training, so I ended up killing about an hour waiting on him.  And this is really where my evening was really and truly made.  See, the south end of the park has a very well maintained 1.3 mile loop that many runners were using--not just the x-country team.  It was, at first, nice to see other runners--just observe them and know that I know a bit of the pleasure and the achievement each of them put into their run.  Then one runner saw that I was sitting in my truck with my exercise outfit and asked if I wanted to run with his group.

I can hardly explain just how much that meant to me.  I am obviously a Clydesdale's Clydesdale.  Anyone with running experience would know that I would never be able to keep a pace on par with what they can do.  And yet, his encouragement to join them was, well, it was a gift even if I politely declined, explaining that I had already worked out and was waiting on my son.  I read other blogs and I follow other runners on twitter.  I know about this "community" of runners but have never felt a part of save for a few runners I have connected with via Twitter.  And that's not negative self talk.  I simply have not explored the social side of this endeavor.  Last night, I caught a glimpse of being part of it.

I told my son that next Monday I'm running the south loop.  There were many more people out there than his group so no one would need to know I'm his Pa.  I don't expect that anyone will ask me to join them as happened last evening.  But I believe there will be something gained in just being around other people who run.

Out damned thought!

Last night's run was rather uneventful.  Just a 2 mile romp through suburbia with Mrs. Clydesdale.  The only thing to mention would be to touch again on the power of negative self talk. My wife is most certainly in better health than me and has barrels full of athletic abilities that my genes simply have not.  So, when it's time to run, she out paces me.  And she asked last night if that makes me feel bad.  I had a difficult time explaining it,  and perhaps I can do so here.

Yes, it kinda did.  But it isn't the fact that she out paces me, it's that I can't keep up.  I don't think I could get across to her that my thoughts were on my own self-perception, not on her superior abilities.  My thoughts were about my inadequacies, but it wasn't based on a need to compete or compare to my wife.  And I admit I had about a half minute of real doubt if I should really be out there, pounding away on my knees and ankles when I am so heavy.  But the point I'm trying to make is that my wife does not make me feel bad.  Me makes me feel bad.

On the third run interval, I stepped up and actually kept pace with her, but my body could not keep it going for the three remaining intervals.  I take no small amount of satisfaction, though, that I did it, if only to prove my self doubt wrong.

This negative self talk has got to stop.  Yes, I need to push myself, but I also need to accept that I am where I am at that moment in time.  There is no "should" in running.  There is no pace or endurance I "should" be at.  There is only running and achieving the best I can do in the particular moment in time.

Finally, for my dear wife: You are my inspiration.  You push me to go the places I need to go, not because I compete with you, but because we hold each other up.

Reboot 2.0

Ok, so it's been awhile. 

It feels like the last 6 mos has lasted 6 years.  It has been a terrible time that dragged me through accusations and attacks on my integrity, destroyed friendships, feelings of betrayal and some of the hardest decisions I've ever had to make in my adult life.  It has included upheavals at work with sudden departure of my boss, uncertainty with budgets, and realizing that the whole thing is going to depend on how the management hangs together as a team.  It has meant turning to others and say "I can't make this work.  You'll have to step up and do what I can't do" and trust that they will indeed accomplish great things because I got out of the way. 

Stress for a depressed fat guy just brings on more excuses so eat and be a proverbial potato of the couch.

I've put on some weight.

But...it has also been a time of awakening--learning that when push comes to shove comes to blows, I can stand up for what is right.  It includes realizing that my wife is willing to risk a friendship to stand by her husband's unpopular decisions because she believes he is right.  It has taken me on a wild trip including a quick turn through Buddhism and learning what it really means to be mindful while realizing I don't know a damn thing about mindfulness.

I have come to the decision that life is not going to make accommodations for me.  It isn't going to let up and give me the space to take care of myself.  If I'm going to run a 5K this fall, life isn't going to make it easy to get out there to run.  It isn't going to let me lose that last 10 pounds so I can run without risking acute pain in my formally broken ankle.

So, tonight, I got out there and had a miserable 2 mile run.  Ninety degrees.  Muggy to the point of absurd.  My ankle hurt.  I couldn't breathe.  I was slow.  I was tired.  I was soaked in sweat and I was red.  It was then when I looked up and saw the most inspiring sight I've seen in what seems like ages.  Coming my way was another Clydesdale.  She was slow.  She was tired.  She was gulping for breath.  She was beet red with sweat pouring down her face.  And, when she saw me, she broke in to the biggest grin that just lifted my lagging spirit.  I knew right then I had a sister on this trip, even if she and I will never chance to meet again.

C25K, week 1, day 1.