If It's Not One Thing, It's Another...

Now that my abdominal muscles are all healed up and I'm just getting back in the swing of things, I start feeling an incredible pain in my right shoulder. Then my knees.

So now I'm not working out again.

I already know why my knees are hurting. If you do all your running on the treadmill, eventually my knees won't be able to deal with it.

But I have no idea what happened to my shoulder. It just hurts to lift anything.

This is pissing me off to no end. I got the gastric surgery so I could lose weight and do all of the athletic stuff that I used to do. But I keep getting hurt.

I love exercising. When I don't, I feel terrible. And I'm tired of feeling crappy because I can't do the only thing that seems to work for relieving stress.

I'll be seeing a doctor next week. But if it's anything like the doctors that dealt with my ab injury, they'll just tell me they can't do anything.

I Hate Eating Right Now

Now that I'm working out again I have to consume a lot of protein to make sure my body can recover from all the exercise I'm doing.

And I hate it.

I have to shove steak and scrambled eggs down my gullet every morning. I have to drink at least two disgusting protein shakes every day. And every time I do, I feel like I just finished Thanksgiving dinner.

Protein makes you feel full. Very full.

If I don't do it, I drag ass in the gym. I struggle to finish my runs, and I can barely lift any weights. I have to eat to get better.

Eating used to be fun, back when I was fat and ate whatever I was craving. Now, eating requires discipline.

It also involves constant counting. "Let's see, I had a protein shake with milk this morning, so that's 76 grams of protein. I ate ground beef for lunch, which has 50 grams. Had a piece of chicken with vegetables for dinner, which was 35 grams. All in all, I ate 161 grams. I need to eat 40-90 grams more or else fuck my workout. And it's 10 p.m. Fuuuuuuck."

When you're not working out, most people only need around 60 grams of protein a day. But when you exercise vigorously sports nutritionists tend to recommend at least one gram for every pound that you weigh, if not more. I'm not even consuming that much. I can't eat that much food.

Oh well. This is the price I'm paying to achieve athletic excellence. This is what it will take to do a half-triathlon next year. This is what it will take to become eligible for skydiving. This is what it will take to maintain a healthy body.

It also means that I have to exercise even when I'm not in the mood. When I'm too exhausted. Like today. I have a short, three mile run today. Nothing I can't handle, except I'm sleepy as shit right now. I need the motivation to hit the treadmill. I'll find it eventually. In the meantime, I need to make a protein shake.

Enjoy the video.

It's Been A Year!

I got my surgery one year ago yesterday. Since then I've lost 100 pounds and I feel damn good. I'm more athletic than I've ever been before (even when I was young and thin in the Army). I ran a half-marathon and I signed up for a half-triathlon next year. Women look at me (sorry ladies, still happily married), and I just love the way I look when I look in the mirror. In fact, I'm pretty sure my wife gets annoyed with all the time I spend checking myself out. :)

My life isn't perfect. Far from it. But at least now I'm not plagued with the problems that came with obesity and food addiction.

The other day a friend on Facebook hit me up with advice about getting bariatric surgery. If you're overweight and have failed to lose the weight for years after constant diet and exercise programs, then I absolutely recommend that you get it. Make sure that your insurance will cover it. Under the Affordable Care Act most insurance companies now have policies on the various exchanges that cover bariatric surgery under certain conditions. You usually have to have a BMI of 40+, or a BMI of at least 35 with a obesity-related condition to be eligible, and they'll expect you to spend six months on a diet regulated by the surgeon first. If you can't meet those conditions, you'll have to pay out of pocket. Some surgeons have financing options. As for what type of surgery to get, you'll have to ask the doc about that. I picked the gastric sleeve because I wanted something more permanent than the lap band, but I still wanted to be able to eat enough to meet the nutritional requirements for when I decided to start doing athletic things.

Anyway, I still have a lot of fitness goals to meet. Along with doing the half-tri next year, I still need to get below 240 so that I'll be eligible for skydiving. I'm looking forward to the day when I get to face my fear of heights and jump out of a perfectly good airplane. :)

I'm Writing This From Work...

After a week of keeping faithful to my workouts, here's what's going on inside my body:

Body: WORKOUT! NOW! 

Me: Body, I'm at work. I can't exercise now. I have no weights. 

Body: WORKOUT! NOW! WORK THE ARMS! 

Me: I just worked out the arms yesterday. Look, after work it's leg day. 

Body: YEAH LEG DAY! LET'S DO THAT! NOW! 

Me: Later! I'm working! 

Body: WORKOUT! WORKOUT! WORKOUT! WORKOUT! WORKOUT! WORKOUT! WORKOUT! WORKOUT! WORKOUT! WORKOUT! WORKOUT! WORKOUT! 

Just imagine Skylar screaming "WORKOUT!" instead of "SHUTUP!" and you'll get the idea.

So I'm back to feeling like a ball of untapped energy again. Which is good, as it means my body is back to burning fat for energy. It also means I'm motivated to work out again and don't have to force myself to do it (unlike the rest of this week).

And I'm quite happy to announce that my body is starting to show some muscle again. I'll be back to where I was pre-injury soon enough.

In the meantime, if any of my friends near Ferndale wants to help me out, perhaps you could show up at my work site with some dumbbells? A bicycle perhaps? I'm bouncing off the walls.

Ladies and Gentlemen: It Feels So Good to be (Sorta) Baaaack...

Good news, everyone!

I'm healed! For good this time!

And I was probably healed last week when I decided to do crunches on a decline board. My abs are healed up, but they haven't been worked in four months. They aren't as strong as they used to be.

Matter of fact, nothing in my body is as strong as it used to be. I'm back at square one, just after the surgery when I started hitting the gym and had lost so much muscle mass that I was lifting the same amount when I first took up weight lifting nearly 15 years ago.

My running has not been good, either. In the past when I had to take time off from running, I'd start running on the road again because it's easier to run on the road than it is the treadmill. But it was fifteen degrees out, so that just wasn't happening. I'm pretty sure I'll be using the treadmill until at least late March. The treadmill was not my finest hour. I ran at a very slow 5.5 mph pace and only made it for 2.5 miles before I was done. It'll take some time before I get back to where I was, let alone exceed it. But I've got all winter to get there.

On the weights, I'm using the wimpy machines instead of the free weights until I can get back some muscle. I'll probably switch back to free weights next week.

I'm also taking it easy on my abs. No more working them out four times a week!

But goddamn, it feels good to be working out again!

This Is Bullshit

So after my half-marathon I decided to rest up to finally get my abs healed up.

It took three weeks of me sitting on my ass before I stopped feeling pain. I made sure to avoid working out for four days after they stopped hurting just to be sure.

Yesterday I did ten crunches to see how my abs would feel. At first I felt fine, but a few hours later the pain was back.

I can't explain how much this pisses me off. I'm gaining weight because I'm not working out, and exercise has become my anti-depressant, so sitting on my ass isn't doing my mood any good, either.

Right now it's Friday afternoon, so I can't get into a doctor. I'll talk to someone on Monday if I'm not feeling better. But this isn't just normal muscle strain, and I'm not so old that it should take four months for my abs to heal up. This is just bullshit.

Fuck my life.

I Did It!

So today I finally ran my half-marathon. The thing I wouldn't shutup about on this blog for the past several months. :)

My wife took a pic of me just as I was crossing the finish line:

At this point, I was praying for a merciful death

My run was incredibly slow, a sad 2:46:13. Part of that is due to me making a stop at a port-a-potty in the middle of the race which had a very long line. I probably would have done less than 2:40:00 if I didn't have to piss. I also couldn't get my playlist to work once I crossed the Canadian border (thanks a lot, Spotify!) Running without music is like kryptonite to Superman for me.

My wife mentioned that if I had run the race 10 minutes faster, I would have made the top ten for my age group. I noticed that the top guy ran the race in a little over two hours. With that in mind, I'll probably be here again next year.

I also hurt my knee during the race, so I won't be running this week. I'll have to hit the elliptical. I hate those things so much. I used to love them when I was fat, because they're not a challenge. But they're also not stressful on your joints, either. So I'll be burning calories on that thing until I'm healed up.

I also need to see a sports medicine doctor that was recommended by my surgeon. Getting my abs healed up needs to be my highest priority now. The injury has been holding me back for too long.

But hey, mission accomplished. I may have ran 13.1 miles with all the speed of a 1990's dial-up modem, but I fucking did it. And once all my injuries have healed up, I'll be getting my ass back in the game hardcore.

11 Hours Away!

I started running last January, deciding "I want to do what skinny people do, and skinny people run." So I signed up for a one-mile charity run.

Then I liked training for that, so I signed up for a 5k. Then a 10k. Then a 10 mile run. Then a half-marathon.

The whole time I've been telling myself "Fat people don't do half-marathons". I need to do this to prove to myself that I'm not fat anymore.

So come hell or high water, I'm finishing this fucking run. I'll do it on broken legs. It's happening.

The only thing I'm worried about is my abs. They're hurting because a few days ago I decided to do some decline situps to see how my abs would hold up. Turns out, not very well.

After tomorrow, I'm not resting, either. I'm already planning on doing a half-triathlon, and maybe a 5i50 triathlon before that. As soon as my abs heal up I'm getting back into MMA.

I'm a fucking beast. And it's all because 10 months ago, a doctor sliced me open and ripped out my guts. :)

Almost Time (And I'm Ready)!

My half marathon is in five days! Woo-hoo!

And I'm ready for it. A week ago I ran 12 miles and it wasn't shit. Distance running is easy now.

Unfortunately, running for speed isn't. I'm guessing that it will take me 2:35:00 to do 13.1 miles. You can thank my ab injury for that one. If it weren't for the injury I probably would be doing the run about 25 minutes faster. At least that much.

Still, I love running. The five and ten mile runs are my favorite distances.

This week, though, is easy. Just two mile runs until race day. I'll use that to improve my mile time.

I'm also off carbs for now. I know that on Saturday I'm going eat every starchy item within a 5-mile radius to carbo-load for my run, so I've gone full Atkins until then to compensate. A day of carbo-loading should be plenty to replenish my glycogen stores before the run.

My abs are starting to feel better. The other day I cranked out a set of hanging leg raises just to see if I could do it. I did eight of them and my abs were no worse for wear. They're not completely healed up yet, though, and I'm getting real tired of that. But if I can handle some light ab exercises, then I can probably start some light weight lifting next week. I need it, too. My arms have gotten scrawny as hell!

That's it for now. Catch you later.

My New Gym (And Book!)

A few months ago, one of the old bedrooms in the house was cleared out and I decided to make a gym. It's a tiny bedroom, so I compacted as much as I could into a tiny space. Here's the end result:

Don't mind the cute kid climbing. It's kinda her thing.

Here's a shot from another angle:

In case you're wondering, the pallet is used for calf exercises.
Oh, you weren't wondering? Well, now you know anyway!

And I built my daughter her own weight bench. She's taken a liking to it so far, but hasn't yet learned the exercises She just climbs on it and picks up the bar and does whatever with it:

It's a nice little bench, where the foam weights and bar max out at about four pounds. It's more about getting kids interested in exercise and learning the techniques than anything else. I figure with proper training, my daughter will be able to press about 150-160 pounds by the time she turns four. But I'm optimistic.

My daughter has also taken a liking to hitting the punching bag. She'll be old enough for karate soon enough. :)

Anyway, this was a labor that took months to build, as I had to save up for various equipment, look for good deals on Craigslist, and finally get time to build all the stuff between work and school.

Now I just have to wait for my abs to heal up so I can lift again.

And just as soon as my gym was finished, a book that I pre-ordered six weeks ago came in. A wonderful little graphic novel called "The Terrible and Wonderful Reasons Why I Run Long Distances", by Matthew Inman, aka "The Oatmeal". The Oatmeal runs a great website with funny comics, and he's also a runner. He runs for the same reason I do. He's scared of getting fat again. It's why I keep training for my half-marathon even on damaged abs. I keep telling myself: "Fat people don't do half-marathons. Fat people don't do half-marathons. Fat people don't do half-marathons."

I need to do the half-marathon to prove to myself that I'm not fat anymore. When I weighed 367 pounds, you couldn't have got me to run a half-marathon if you paid me $1,000,000 plus a night with Jennifer Lawrence and Keira Knightley at the same time. I couldn't even run ONE mile, let alone 13.1.

But that's changed. And I need to see this through to the end. As The Oatmeal said:

"I often regard overeating as a drug addiction, and I try to imagine what my life would be like if that addiction got the best of me. I picture the years wearing on, with Earth's annual trip around the sun being marked by an increase in pant sizes and a decrease in self worth. I imagine my heart getting tighter and more flustered, until one sunny morning it shudders to a violent halt. I imagine myself wrenching forward, my face heaving into a pile of waffles. I imagine my last breath gurgling into a tepid pool of maple syrup.
I imagine all these things, and I think: 

I don't want to die face first in a pile of waffles. 

I want to die in an electrical storm.
I want to die wrestling a Kodiak bear.
I want to die in an EXPLOSION.
I want to die quietly at home, hand in hand with somebody who loved me. 

I just don't want to die by waffles. Anything but waffles."

I really can't say enough good things about this book. Go buy it on amazon.com for about $10.

Three More Weeks!

Well, the half-marathon is three weeks from today.

And my running is...shit.

I started running again last Sunday, deciding that, my abs be damned, I'm tired of not training.

I also downgraded my training to Higdon's Novice 2 program. It's easier, so not as fun. But easier is what I need if I'm going to heal up.

Anyway, I started last Sunday morning by running 10 miles. It's probably not best to run 10 miles when you've only ran twice in the past month. I was sore as shit after.

My time on my shorter runs has gotten slow, too. It takes me over an hour to run 5 miles, and over 1/2 hour to run 3 miles. Eight months of work, all pissed down the drain because of a stupid abdominal injury.

My abs haven't healed up yet, either. They don't feel as bad as they used to, but I still can't lift weights.

Still, I know that I'm not going to get better at running by sitting on the couch. The only thing that's going to help is to eat right and train as hard as I possibly can. I just keep telling myself: "Fat people don't do half-marathons!" I keep repeating that to myself, over and over. It's my mantra. It's the reason why I keep going.

Three more weeks. I can do this. I have to do this.

"Welcome To Your Thirties"

So, my abs have not healed up. I decided to contact my surgeon and see what the story is. Do I have a hernia? Is it just muscle strain? No, it can't be. It would have healed by now.

I met up with him this morning. I really, really hate my surgeon, but I figured if anyone would be able to figure out what was wrong with my stomach, it would be him.

I told him about my abdominal pain and he examined me. After two minutes, he came to the same conclusion as the ER doc I saw a few weeks ago. It's just muscle strain.

When I asked "Why is it taking so long to heal?" He just said:

"Welcome to your thirties. It'll get even worse when you're in your forties."

Fuck my life.

The half-marathon is six weeks away. I need to heal up.

This Sucks

My abs are still injured, and I've gone five days without working out.

This sucks donkey dick.

You know when your phone is fully charged and it keeps warning you to take it off the charger, lest it get too much energy and ends up overloading?

That's me.

I am a ball of untapped energy. I want to run wind sprints. I want to pump iron. I want to do martial arts. I want to hang from the ceiling and do crunches like that guy in Deuce Bigalow.

Yeah, I want to do this.

But I can't, because I'm injured.

This is such bullshit.

My weight is also up to 252.

I Beat The Crim! Let The Final Countdown Begin!

I ran ten fucking miles today. And I hurt.

But before I discuss why I hurt, let's go to the photos!

This is me during my 5K, when I weighed 280+ pounds and thought that running 3.1 miles was a challenge (now, a 3 mile run would be what I'd call "rest day"):

Here's me at the 10K, when I weighed about 270:

And here's me at 250 pounds, just finishing the Crim:

I am svelte as fuck!

I even convinced my wife to do her first 5K, which she had to walk due to her being pregnant:

Say hi to the awesomest wife ever!

So why the pain from an itsy-bitsy 10 mile run? (And I say that non-ironically, I know people that have run marathons and triathlons who weren't hurting as bad as I am right now).

Remember that ab injury I mentioned a few weeks ago? It hasn't gone away, and here's why:

I finally got a doctor to check to see why my abs were still having consistent pain after three weeks. He said that it was simply muscle strain from overtraining (turns out that despite what CT Fletcher tells you, overtraining is not a myth). I asked him why I was still feeling it after three weeks despite not doing any weight training, and he said that my long-distance running wasn't doing my abs any favors. I told him I was running the Crim that weekend and he said to avoid any running until then. So I did, and went four days without doing any exercise at all.

So my abs felt fine when I started the run. I was crazy motivated to get started in the beginning. I carbo-loaded the night before and was hopped-up on pre-workout formula. I looked at the start line and didn't see a race. I saw a battlefield. This was war. I actually had Loaf's voice in my head screaming at the road "WE ARE GENERALS, YOU ARE THE ENEMY!"

I ran out the gate and started passing everyone, immediately realizing that I had seriously underestimated how fast I was going to run this race, so I started way in the back. I thought I would have a mile average of about 12 minutes. But for the first 3/4 of the race, my average was about 10:30.

Unfortunately in the middle of my seventh mile my abs decided to protest. It was like it was screaming at me "HEY, REMEMBER ME MOTHERFUCKER! THE ABS THAT CONSISTENTLY STAY INJURED BECAUSE YOU CAN'T STOP WORKING OUT FOR TWO GODDAMN SECONDS!?" So my average hit a downward trajectory of 11:11 minutes. I still completed the race at 1:51:48, well below my goal of two hours. But after the race, despite drinking large amounts of water, my body started experiencing heat cramps, which only exacerbated the injury. Just as I started considering hitting the first aid tent, my wife texted me and let me know that she was almost done with her race. So I soldiered on and afterward we hit up the Tropical Smoothie Cafe where I got a turkey sandwich and some liquified fruit and sugar into my system.

The ab strain still persists, though, and it's because of that that I'll be taking two weeks off of working out completely. It sucks, but it'll suck worse if I can't heal up. If I stay on the paleo diet (which I follow on days when I don't need to carbo-load for a long distance run or deal with passing out after the run), I should be okay. On Friday I weighed 250 pounds even. I'm sure I took out a couple of pounds on this run, which would mean that I'm less than 10 pounds away from my goal weight.

So anyway, bring on the half-marathon. It's the final countdown!

Kicked Ass, Then Got Sick

I did great on running this week, and on my diet. I got my weight down to 252 pounds by keeping on the paleo diet and by keeping up with my running.

The bad news is that I haven't been able to lift weights all week. What I thought was just fatigue up in Tawas City is worse. Every time I try to lift I feel an intense pain in my lower abdomen. I'll have to go to the doctor this week to get that squared away. I hope it's not a hernia and it's just strained muscle. Either way I hope this gets fixed quickly because my upper body muscles have shown a lot of atrophe.

I can still run, though, and I've been doing great at it. I ran five miles in under 50 minutes for the first time, and completed my 9-mile run on Saturday morning. I'm just one mile away from doing the Crim, which is in two weeks.

I made sure to prepare adequately for my nine-mile run so that I wouldn't nearly pass out like I had two weeks prior when I did eight miles. I drank plenty of water the day before, and ate pizza to carbo-load for the run (BTW-Carbo-loading for a long-distance run is the only acceptable time to eat pizza. Otherwise it's just empty calories).

On Saturday afternoon I started feeling sick. I'm blaming my wife for this one. She got sick a few days ago. We thought it was related to her pregnancy, as her symptoms were extreme fatigue, nausea, and vomiting. But I guess it was a real virus because I have the same thing. I've been sleeping all day and have avoided eating for most of the day. Hopefully I'll feel better tomorrow.

Paleo Pasta!

I've been experimenting with various healthy recipes for a while and found one that was awesome!



This is an easy version of paleo pasta, with celery being substituted for penne noodles. (Forgive the generic directions, I've never typed out a recipe before. But it's as easy as making spaghetti, so just use common sense with your measurements).

Ingredients:
1. Celery
2. Chicken breast
3. Spaghetti sauce (make your own recipe, or just use store-bought sauce. I used Kroger's three cheese blend).
4. (Optional) Shredded mozzarella cheese

Bake your chicken breast according to directions on the label. While the chicken is baking, cut your celery into 1 inch pieces. Place the celery into a pot and boil until very soft. Heat up your sauce in a separate pot.

After your chicken breast is cooked, chop it up into small pieces about 1/2 square inches. Combine all the items into a large pot and serve. If you'd like to add a little flavor, sprinkle with some shredded mozzarella cheese.

It tastes delicious, and it's a lot healthier than traditional pasta. I made enough to feed a homeless shelter so I've been eating it for the past few days now and have yet to be tired of it.

If you don't like celery, you will after this. Trust me.

Setbacks Are A Bitch

Well, this week wasn't that great. Not going to lie.

It always seems to be during my "recovery week" that everything goes to shit. I either get sick or something else happens.

My wife had a job interview up in Tawas City and we decided to take our camper up there for a mini-vacation, as it's cheaper than a hotel and we're still trying to break in our little "hotel on wheels". While we were up there I didn't eat very healthy, didn't take my supplements, and pretty much just drank Diet Pepsi the entire time I was up there.

I did go to the gym, but all I could do was my run. After I was too dizzy to do any weight-lifting, and my lower abs were extremely sore the entire week for some reason. I couldn't even do a single leg lift for a week.

And I also drank alcohol while I was camping. I had to go from a night-shift sleep schedule to a day-shift schedule, and I don't know any other way to do that without drinking. But more on that later.

When I got home from camping I found out that I went from weighing 254 pounds to 261.

I was only gone for three days, so I know that it's scientifically impossible for me to have gained that much weight in such a short amount of time without most of it being water weight. But still, it really sucks.

In the past, this little setback would have been enough to make me quit. But fuck that. I've come too far to quit. And I'm never going back to where I was. NEVER! So instead of quitting, I've decided to hit everything harder.

The first thing I did was go back to a strictly paleo diet. Breads, grains, any kind of complex carbohydrates are out of my diet plan. Strictly protein sources, fruits and vegetables are in my diet now. I had to take a couple of days off from the gym for my abs to recover (I'm still wondering why they got so sore in the first place), but now they have so I'm going to be beating the shit out of myself at the gym all this week. I have leg day in the morning. If my legs aren't a wad of cookie dough by the time I'm done, I will have failed.

The paleo diet is already showing results. I've already dropped back down to 259 pounds. When I start hitting the gym this week I anticipate being back at my previous weight by Saturday.

As for my drinking this week, it seems it was what I needed to stay off the sauce, if that makes any sense. The past few weeks before that I had been wanting a drink and when I finally did it, I didn't get the buzz that I once did. It didn't make me happy, just tired. Now I don't even want the stuff. It's gone from being something that made me feel good and was a substitute for my food addiction to just being a pointless waste of calories. Exercise has replaced junk food and alcohol as my feel good high.

I also found this awesome pic, courtesy of the guys at the Sports Motivation page on Facebook. I printed it out and put it on my bedroom door to serve as a reminder of why I do this. Enjoy!

I also found out that my last post had the highest traffic for my blog yet. Apparently posting half-naked pics of myself brings all the ladies to the yard. ;)

Before/After

I've been feeling good about my weight loss, so I wanted to share this:

This is me last year:

I swear, my eyes are open!

I weighed over 350 pounds in that picture.

This is me as of this morning, less than 20 pounds away from my goal:

You can see my abs!

Anyway, I'm not the type of guy that usually does selfies, but I'm really proud of my progress and wanted to share. :)

A Humbling Moment...

Hello, again, everyone!

Well, this entry is going to be a bit different from how it was supposed to go. Since my last entry I had been kicking ass. I ran my seven miles last week with ease, my five mile run days are no longer even challenging, and I'm lifting more than I have since the surgery.

I was going to brag about how the warrior has returned, that I'm the Prince of All Sayians once again!

Then I ran eight miles today.

I can tell you with all honesty and sincerity that I have never had my ass kicked so hard by a workout. For two hours after, I couldn't even drink water without throwing up. Forget about eating solid food, either.

The run started out good enough, my initial mile was just after ten minutes (which I did with my dog before finishing the rest on my own), but after 6.5 miles I felt like I was doing a forced march to a concentration camp.

I had no doubt that I would finish (The Voice has gotten much quieter as of late), but Jesus Christ, was I wrecked when it was done.

The moral of the story: We all have bad days. Even those of us who have become stronger, better, faster than we were before. :) Just push through and you'll be glad you did. The pain I feel now is nothing compared to the pain I'd feel if I had quit.

That said, I'm going to curl into a ball and cry now, because tomorrow is leg day.

I'm also down to 254 pounds, in case you were wondering.

The Need For Goals

On Tuesday I was watching the latest episode of Extreme Weight Loss in which a woman named Brandi was the subject of the week. As part of her weight loss journey she was enrolled in a Half-Ironman Triathlon. Despite still being over 100 pounds overweight when she did the race, she finished it just seconds under the required time.

Then she all but quit for the next phase of the weight loss cycle.

I've seen this before. Hell, I've experienced this before. When you bust your ass to meet a fitness goal, only to quit after you meet it because you don't know where to go from there. I saw it plenty of times when I was a karate instructor (many, many years ago). People would get their black belt and then just quit a few months later because they don't know what they're supposed to do next. They trained for years to achieve their goal, then they get it and don't make a new one.

It's for this reason that you need to constantly have a goal in mind when you go on your fitness journey. It's why I'll need to keep having them for the rest of my life.

After the half-marathon is done, I'll have completed what was just a few months ago a seemingly unattainable goal. I keep imagining the sense of pride I'm going to have when I complete the 13.1 mile run on October 19th. But after that I'll need a new goal. And while what I call "Phase 2" was simply to get good at MMA, I need something more tangible to shoot for.

And I figure if a woman who is 100 pounds overweight can push herself through a Half-Ironman, I can too. So next year I'll be doing my first one next August in Benton Harbor. I'm going to need to find a gym with a swimming pool to do this. I think there's one in White Lake.

The year after that I hope to do Tough Mudder. That will depend on my upper body strength. I've never been able to do a single chin up in my life, and that course has a lot of climbing. But I have two years to get there.

I've been struggling with my eating lately. Now that my stomach is able to handle small meals it's been getting too easy to fall back into old habits. The other day I ordered a meat lovers pizza. I've been eating candy as well. I need to stop this.

This is my body going back to food addiction to replace my alcohol addiction. Now that I've stayed off the sauce (for 13 days now), my body wants to find another way to get a buzz. And now my stomach has expanded to the point where I can't eat whatever I want and still lose weight anymore. I have to put in work to keep losing it. So this is something that has to get dealt with asap.

I'd like to say that staying sober is easy. It's not. It's fucking hard. Today I was in the drug store and I saw a shelf of liquor and I just stopped and stared at it. I just stood there and kept looking at it. It was crazy hard to walk away. It was like running into the girl in high school that you know had a crush on you but you never had the guts to ask out. I don't know how else to describe it.

I work nights now, and in Michigan you're not allowed to buy alcohol from 2 a.m.-7 a.m. On my days off I find myself waiting until 2 a.m. to come around, just so I know that I've made it to the next day without drinking. I used to dread 2 a.m. Now I welcome it.

As far as my workouts go, they're hard. But they're hard because I'm doing so much more than when I started. They've gotten hard (and I've gotten stronger) to the point where I have days where I have to run three miles and that's the easy day. Three miles is now an easy run to me. Back in February I couldn't even run that far. Twice a week I run five miles and then lift weights for an hour. On Saturday I'm going to run seven miles for the first time in my life. And those are just the hard days. My easy days were once the stuff of my nightmares. But just like the three mile run, one day, my hardest days are going to become my easy days. The workouts keep getting harder. I keep getting stronger. I am a warrior.

Enjoy this little slice of awesome:

It Gets Harder, I Get Stronger

Holy shit! It's nearly been a month since I wrote! Why didn't anyone tell me?! :)

It's been a busy couple of weeks. I had finals, and knocked those out with all of my classes having a final grade of A- or better. Then I went and got sick so I couldn't work out. And I was still struggling with my drinking.

On the last subject, I haven't had anything to drink in six days, which for me is very good. I recently lost my insurance, so I couldn't go to a private therapist to get any help. I have insurance through the VA, but didn't want to do any of the 12-step b.s. that they do. So I started listening to hypnosis sessions on YouTube. They've worked like a charm. Not only have I not had a drink, but I haven't wanted one, either. Anytime I start thinking about drinking I remind myself that if I don't stay off the sauce, I'm going to gain back my weight.

Which, for a couple of weeks, was becoming a problem. After my last entry, my weight wouldn't budge due to my putting about 1,000 calories worth of alcohol in my system each day. Now that I've stopped, I'm down to 260 pounds.

For my strength/endurance training, I hit a snag last week when I got sick. I don't know what it was, but it hit me something fierce. I could barely eat or drink anything, I slept for 16 hours for the first few days of the illness, and working out was simply out of the question. So I haven't worked out in a week. Tomorrow, I'm getting back on it.

I hate that I just got back to where I was performance-wise after the last time I took time off due to sickness. But that's how success goes. You keep getting back up no matter how many times you get knocked down. The workouts get harder, you get stronger.

I've changed up my strength training routine. Instead of working out one muscle group each week, I'm working out my upper body three times a week and my legs once a week.

My running is about to hit nightmare phase. Next week I have to run 7 miles as part of my training for the Crim. I've never run that long in my life. Not even when I was in the Army.

Yesterday my wife told me that my mother-in-law suggested that I do Tough Mudder. I'm now considering it. Maybe that will be phase three of my training. Finish the half-marathon, spend a year in martial arts training, then do Tough Mudder. Sounds like a plan. I couldn't do Tough Mudder now, but maybe in two years after I've gotten stronger it could happen. A year ago I didn't think I could do a half-marathon and now I'm training for it. So if I spend a year and a half working on my upper body strength, maybe I can pull it off. :)

Enjoy the videos.

Boom Goes The Dynamite!

Just turn your computer sideways, you'll see it.

I've lost 101 pounds.

Just thought I'd share.

I'm only 26 away from my goal.

10K Finished! Come at Me, Crim!

Last Saturday I ran my 10K race in Owosso at the Curwood Festival. Here's a pic my wife took:

No participation medal this time? WTF?!

For comparison, here's how I looked when I did the 5K:

My transition lenses make me look like the devil, but at least my gut is smaller. :)

Anyway, because I missed out on running for a week, my run time was absolute shit. 1:12:00 for my run. If I hadn't taken a week off I would have placed in third, as the third place runner in my age group had done the run in exactly 60 minutes. I was on pace to beat that.

I don't normally care about placing in these races, but when you're that close, it hurts not to get the prize.

Oh well. I still ran 6.2 miles, which is something that just two months ago I couldn't do. And I'm going to continue pushing myself to be in better shape than I've ever been as the Crim race is less than eight weeks away. That's a 10 mile race.

I'm using the Higdon Half-Marathon Novice 1 program to prepare for this.

I Accidentally Ran a 10K

Hello, again!

I went running on Saturday for the first time in a week, as I had just recovered from my "man cold".



My goal was to run 5.5 miles. The GPS on my phone wasn't working, though, so I was just winging it through my run. When I got home, I went on Map My Run  to see how far I ran.

Turns out I hit 6.2 miles. Nice!

Unfortunately it took me an hour and twenty minutes to do this, which is what happens when you miss a week of running.

So now I'm back on my workout plan, getting prepped for my real 10K, which is a week from  Saturday. After that I'm signing up for the Crim Run in Flint, then I'll be wrapping up my run training with a half-marathon in Detroit in October.

Detroit's Free Press/Talmer Bank Marathon is the most prestigious race Michigan does every year, and it's a Boston qualifier for those that want to go the full 26.2 miles. I'm looking forward to it. Not only is it a big deal for local runners, but my race involves me going over the Ambassador Bridge into Canada and back to the United States through the Windsor Tunnel. I'm scared of both of those spots, so I'll likely be doing a seven minute mile when I have to confront those two areas. :)

I have a phobia of suspension bridges and long tunnels. I will use that to my advantage. :)

I'm also down to 269 pounds. That's 98 pounds, for those who are counting.

As for last week's post, I don't want to be talking about recovering from alcoholism every week. I don't want to turn this into "My Alcoholic Recovery Blog". I want to concentrate on the fitness and weight loss portion of my life here. But I am going to start seeing a therapist soon to deal with my addiction.

This Week...

I had to take some time off because I got sick. Just a cold, but I want to get healed up as quickly as possible and that means not working out doing being active for a while. My immune system will need all of my energy!

I hope I get better soon as I really don't like not working out.

Anyway, despite being sick I've been feeling really good lately. I don't know if it's because my blood sugar stabilized after the surgery or just all the endorphins that my body keeps releasing from working out, but I've been very happy lately. I notice I treat people nicer, give them compliments, or try to make them feel good. I don't totally hate talking to complete strangers anymore.

And all the confidence. I have, ALL of the confidence.

Despite this, I do have one problem that needs to be dealt with.

I'm an alcoholic.

I was a borderline alcoholic before my surgery, and I lied about my drinking just so I could get the surgery in the first place. Then after the surgery I just became a high-functioning alcoholic. I would quit drinking for a week or a few days at a time, but eventually I'd go back to my habit of getting drunk on a nightly basis.

For the past few months I didn't care about being an alcoholic, considering I was high functioning, wasn't violent, and didn't drink unless it was my off time. But then I read this story:

This weekend, Sum 41 frontman Deryck Whibley announced that he is being treated in hospital after alcoholism “finally caught up” with him. 

“Hey everyone, it’s Deryck here. Sorry I’ve been so m.i.a. lately, but I’ve been very sick in the hospital for a month and was pretty sick for a few weeks leading up to my trip to the hospital,” he wrote. “The reason I got so sick is from all the hard boozing I've been doing over the years. It finally caught up to me.” 

He told of how he was “drinking hard every day” until one evening he poured himself another drink and sat down to watch a film when he collapsed unconscious. 

“I was stuck with needles and IV’s all over. I was completely sedated the FIRST WEEK. When I finally woke up the next day I had no idea where I was. My mum and step dad were standing over me. I was so freaked out. My liver and kidney’s collapsed on me. Needless to say it scared me straight.”

He's only a year older than me. Jesus...

I got my surgery because I knew that I'd be dead before I was 40 if I didn't lose weight. If I don't deal with my alcoholism, I may still be dead before I'm 40.

So I have to find a way to fix this. AA isn't going to help me. I tried Overeater's Anonymous and they use the Alcoholics Anonymous handbook. It didn't help, mostly due to the fact that everything in that book says that you have to "turn your life over to God". When you don't believe in God, it doesn't do you much good. It's even off-putting to hear that.

But there are other ways to get help. There's plenty of pills out there that make it so you won't crave alcohol anymore. If I can find a secular group around here (fat chance, but I'm looking), I'll join it. I have to see the doctor soon to see what can be done. Good thing I have insurance!

The Best Part About Exercise

I recently got blocked from commenting on a Facebook page called The Sports Motivation because I got angry when I saw them posting memes like this:

In the real world, that's a load of bullshit. There's many things that happen to us that are outside of our control. A man who worked at the same car plant for 25 years didn't choose to be laid off when the plant closed down. A family who has their house foreclosed on because a bank made an error can still be made homeless despite making all their mortgage payments on time. Tonight, some crazy arsonist could torch your home. In the real world, bad things happen to people who make good choices because of things they can't do anything about.

But when it comes to working out, that's the exception. In the gym, life is fair. The weights and the treadmill don't care about your background, how rich you are, or if you are politically connected. All they care about is the work you put in.

A person who is born rich and a person who is born poor can both exercise and get the same results. It doesn't matter if the rich guy has the best trainers or the finest nutritionists, if the rich guy isn't willing to put in the work, there isn't a money number high enough that will buy him strength or endurance. If a poor person trains his body, it doesn't matter if he can't buy the best gym equipment or trainers. He will improve. Athleticism is not something that can be bought on a shelf. You can't pay someone to work out for you. It's all on you.

It doesn't matter what kind of body you have, either. If you're not bedridden, you can work out. If your legs are broken, you can train your upper body. If you have a broken arm, you can do squats. So long as you aren't a quadriplegic there's something you can do.

Time is no excuse, either. I work full time, I'm a full time student, and a parent. Even if I had no one to watch my daughter (thanks, mom!), I'd take her to the gym with me, like this guy:

I might start doing that soon enough, anyway.

Henry Rollins wrote an excellent article about weight lifting in which he said that the iron reveals the truth about you in ways that people rarely do. Outside of the gym you can be an arrogant s.o.b. and cover yourself in false bravado, but inside the gym all of your shit-talking means nothing. The iron and the treadmill will tell you the truth about yourself. If you're lazy, they will tell you. If you're taking shortcuts, they will let you know. The only thing that will make you improve is by training and giving it everything you have. And when you do that, they'll make sure to tell you. You'll see it when you're lifting and running better than you ever thought possible.

Your best friends will always tell the truth about you, even when it pisses you off. In that sense, you can consider the iron and the treadmill two of the best friends you will ever have.

That's the greatest thing about working out. Life outside might be unfair as hell, but in the gym, hard work has its rewards.

The Voice and the Beast

When I workout, there’s two voices in my head.

The first one, I’ve simply named “The Voice”. The Voice has been with me for years. Every time I workout or start working out regularly, The Voice gives me reasons to quit. It tells me that I’m not strong enough, that the workout is too hard, and makes excuses to not workout. It’ll say that I’m tired, that I can’t accomplish the task given to me. Sometimes it will even fake injuries, making me feel a little pain in areas that magically heal up after I’m finished with the gym. And when none of that works, it’ll try to come up with reasons to not workout that will actually sound noble or selfless.

For example, today at the gym The Voice tried to convince me to not do leg lifts because “I’ll get the equipment all sweaty and the other people working out will think it’s gross”.

Yeah. Gotta look out for the other people in the gym. Even though I could, you know, just wipe the equipment down when I’m done. 

There truly is no lengths The Voice won’t go to to get me to quit. If screaming doesn’t work, it’ll try reasoning with me. It’ll try smooth talking. It will attempt to use a logical argument to explain why it’s in my best interest to quit. Until recently, he won a lot more battles than he lost.

The Voice is the embodiment of my self-doubt, my fears, and my desire for instant gratification. The Voice hates hard work. The Voice wants everything to be easy. And if it’s not easy, he doesn’t want me to do it.

After my last diary entry, when I acknowledged the existence of The Voice, he became louder. Beating him didn’t make him go away. Acknowledging his existence didn’t make him go away or diminish his power. He just works harder to get me to quit. The Voice is one persistent son of a bitch.

This persistence gave rise to something different while doing my run yesterday.

As The Voice continued to talk to me, I imagined something in my mind’s eye. There was a man grabbing The Voice by the throat and lifting him in the air. The Voice was no longer speaking. All he was making was choking sounds. And the man doing the choking was me, but a much larger version. Ten feet tall, and ripped to shit. With arms the size of artillery cannons. He chokes The Voice like he just gave away his last fuck an hour ago. While he’s choking The Voice, he looks at me and simply says “Run.” And I do. The Voice remains silent.

This other voice is simply called “Beast”.

Beast doesn’t kill The Voice. That’s impossible. The Voice doesn’t die, no matter how many times you beat him. But Beast silences him. He takes away The Voice’s power.

I like Beast.

When The Voice attempts to talk me out of a workout, I simply tell Beast to “sic ‘em”. And he does. The Voice is afraid of Beast.

And he should be.

I'm also down to 276. Enjoy the video.

A Funny Thing Happened on the Treadmill...

Today I did a three mile run on the treadmill at my school. I started out at a 6 mph pace (10 minute mile) for the first half-mile, then increased my speed to 6.5 mph (9:13 minute mile) for the rest of the duration.

For whatever reason, the run started feeling difficult after I was about 1.24 miles in. I was wondering if I was going to be able to finish. I kept trying to pump myself up, remind myself that I can make it, but I kept having a nagging voice in my head telling me that the run is just too hard today. Maybe I should just quit. I ignored the voice and kept on running.

Two miles passes, and I'm happy with my time, but my heart feels like it's about to jump out of my chest and run away. The voice keeps nagging me, telling me "It's okay if you can't finish today. We all have bad days, you can just pick it up next time." Another voice in my head kept pushing me along, saying "YOU'RE TRAINING FOR A 10K! HOW ARE YOU GOING TO RUN 6.2 MILES IF YOU CAN'T RUN FOR 3!"

I get to 2.4 miles and the nagging voice is now screaming at me: "THIS IS TOO FUCKING HARD! YOUR LEGS ARE SCREAMING IN PAIN! YOU SHOULD JUST STOP! IT'LL BE OKAY! LOOK, WE ALL HAVE BAD DAYS! YOU CAN PICK IT UP AGAIN NEXT TIME!"

Outside, my real voice was screaming with desperation. "C'mon! You can do this! Keep running!" I was so loud that the one other person in the gym was staring at me like I had lost my mind. Despite the positive affirmations, it's usually what I scream to myself just before I quit. My voice doesn't sound confident. It's desperate. It's begging. I was sure that I wasn't going to finish.

But I had another voice nagging at my subconscious. It wasn't speaking to me in words, just in my emotions. The feeling kept nagging at me until finally it found the words to use.

"You've been down that road too many times before. You know what it feels like to quit. The pain, the disappointment, the self-loathing, they all will hurt worse than if you run this race until the end. You can either quit now and hate yourself for it, or you can keep running and feel proud that you finished."

I keep going.

It's a 2.8 miles I start thinking I might actually make it. "You can do this. You have less than 2 minutes left. Suck it up, you're going to make it."

At 28:02, I finish. An average pace of 9:20.66 per mile.

Proud of my run, I post my time on Facebook. Later, my mom joked about my run, saying "Wow, you were running pretty fast. Who was chasing you?"

"The nagging voice in my head that kept telling me that it was too hard and I should just quit and go home. That's who was chasing me."

And I outran that fucking fuck.

I'm also down to 277 pounds. Enjoy the video.

88, 279, 127

Eighty-eight is a great number. Do you know why it's better than sixty-nine? Because you get ate twice. ;)

Eighty-eight is also the number that caused "Doc" Brown to make all time travel possible.

Uma Thurman laid waste to the "Crazy 88's" in Kill Bill:

And now, I'm 88 pounds down!

I now weigh 279 pounds. Which is less than I even imagined I'd get before my surgery. I used to tell myself "I'd be happy if I just weighed 285 pounds", because I couldn't even imagine doing better than that. But here I am.

I went to the doctor last Friday for a physical and to see why my knees can't seem to handle a lot of running. I've had to do just the elliptical for my cardio training for most of last week. The doctor told me that my diabetes has been reversed (something I already knew, but I'm happy that it's been made official), and that I now have flat feet. I had always thought that the whole "fallen arches" thing was a myth, but I guess it's not. I didn't have flat feet when I joined the Army back in 2002, so this came as a surprise for me. The doctor said I would need to get some new running shoes to protect my knees.

Which leads to the third number in my title. I had to spend $127 on running shoes. I'm a guy. A guy doesn't spend that kind of money on shoes. I am very mad about this. But nonetheless, the shoes do their job. I ran 3.5 miles yesterday and my knees are no worse for wear for it.

Í'm now just 39 pounds away from my goal, with 88 pounds down. Feels good!

5K Done! Now Onto The 10K!

Hey! I won a medal! For participation! Yay!

So this weekend was interesting.

My wife and I decided to use my 5K race as an excuse to do a dry run with our new camper, as the race was out in Dearborn and started at 8 a.m (about an hour's drive from me). Not knowing anything about how to set up a camper, I broke the hitch and almost couldn't attend the race because it was still halfway attached to my car. Fortunately another camper helped to get it unstuck and I was able to replace the hitch after the race. I also learned more about my camper than I ever thought I'd need to know. Turns out they're a lot more complicated than having a tiny house on wheels.

Anyway, moving on...

I did better than I had expected in the race, clocking in at 31:56. Still well short of my goal, but about three minutes better than I had done the previous Monday.

The best part of finishing the 5K is that now I get to train for my 10K, which will be in early June out in Owosso (also quite a way away from home, and probably needing another camping trip). The training is going to be getting a lot harder now, with me doing cardio at least five days a week. I've also decided to start doing weight training with my legs again, as I'm pretty sure that a lot of problems with my knees are due to the muscle that I had lost around my knees after my surgery. Gaining back some leg strength will hopefully do it some good.

On the cardio end, I'm doing Hal Higdon's novice program, except instead of doing 30 minutes of cross training on day three, I'm doing 60. I've been getting antsy if I don't do A LOT of exercise lately, so I wanted to push myself a little harder. Cross training is good on my knees, so I can spend more time on that than on running. On the anaerobic side, I've started level 4 out of my old workout book, The Truth, with the exception of the leg portion, which I'll keep at level 2 for now. Level 4 in the book is right about where most people scream "Dear God, why did I decide to do this?!", so I'm looking forward to it. :)

It still blows my mind how many things seem possible for me now. I'm going to be doing a half marathon later this year. I love running now. I look forward to going skydiving after I drop below 250 pounds. I have these big fitness goals that for years had seemed too far out of my reach to achieve and now I'm going for them. It feels so damn good.

Lions and Gazelles

When I was younger and I did martial arts, I remembered a saying all throughout my training: “The lion wakes up every morning knowing he has to be faster that the slowest gazelle. The gazelle wakes up knowing he has to be faster than the slowest lion.” I repeated it to myself throughout my training because I knew that I had to be better trained, better ready for battle than anyone that would ever try to hurt me or the people I care about. So I trained endlessly, for hours at a time, every single day.

A lot of people take that expression to mean that they need to be a lion. Of course they would. Lions are bad ass. They’re the kings of the jungle. They’re the predators.

But fuck that. I’m a gazelle. I don’t want to just be faster than the slowest gazelle, I want to be faster than the fastest lion. I want to be well trained enough to not just outrun the lion, but to taunt him. To tease him. Make him think he’s going to get me just before I burst off with another sprint. And then when he’s winded and out of breath, that’s when I’ll stab him with my antlers. And when the lion is laying on the ground wounded, he’ll look up and see me mocking him.

“Who’s the predator now, bitch?”

Plateau Busted!

I now weigh 283 pounds. The last time I weighed this little, I had just gotten home from my first overseas tour in the Army, "Hey Ya" was one of the top songs in America, the whole country was still worshiping George W. Bush like he was the second coming of Christ, the Iraq war was just starting to turn into a shit pile and I was wondering when I'd be taking a trip over there.

It was 2003, if you hadn't figured it out yet.

After last Monday, I got mad that my weight hadn't budged in about a month, so I took to the internets to get some advice. One guy said that I should lower my caloric intake by about 400 calories to see if that would help. It was an idea so simple you'd think I would have figured it out myself. So I did that. I also started a food log on myfitnesspal.com and have been maintaining it regularly.

The weight started coming off immediately after I cut back on the calories. Instead of getting my 200 grams of protein everyday through whatever means necessary (which was putting on a lot of fat calories), I started drinking a lot more protein shakes and limiting my meat to mostly lean meats like chicken or turkey. After a few days of this I started feeling dizzy after my workouts, so I have a couple of "carbo-load" days every week where I stock up my glycogen stores so I can workout hard without injuring myself. Those days I just drink Gatorade and eat some bread or potatoes with my meals.

Speaking of which, I had to stop running for a week because the treadmill was beating the shit out of my knees. Sadly, this has killed my run time and I won't have my 5K time down to under 30 minutes like I had planned when I do my race next week. It's alright, though. Eventually I'll get there if I keep working at it. In the meantime, the weather is just starting to warm up out here in Southeast Michigan, and I'm running outside now.

Getting Fit and Gaining Shitloads of Confidence

Jesus Christ, it's been two weeks! I have so much stuff to write!

Let me get the bad news out of the way...

The scale hasn't budged in weeks. I'm still at 290 pounds, and it's gotten on my last nerve. People try to reassure me that "muscle weighs more than fat", but since that was something I always told myself when I was fat, it's not making me feel any better. My body is showing that I'm losing weight, and I'm getting more physically fit. I just want the numbers to back it up!

Okay, now onto the good.

For starters, I've decided to stop drinking for a while. I've always been a heavy drinker, and the doc telling me to quit drinking after the surgery might as well have been him telling me not to breathe. But I looked at the calorie content in my booze and it turns out I was drinking about 800 calories a night. So I've been sober for five days now, which is the longest I've been sober since Iraq. My lack of calories still isn't showing up on the scale, though.

The scale aside, though, I'm looking and feeling great. My wife says I'm starting to get six-pack abs. I looked in the mirror. She's right! It's hard to see because I still have lots of fat I still need to burn off, but I can see them just starting to protrude. I've also got my average mile run time to under 10 minutes, and my body is packing on lots of muscle.

A few weeks ago I noticed that every time I did a weight-lifting session I was actually lifting less than the week before, so I looked up how much protein I should be eating. Turns out I was insanely protein deficient. I tried upping my intake to 90 grams, but it turns out I needed to be eating a minimum of 200 grams a day. Most body building websites say I should be eating about 300, and there's even one doctor that says I should be eating over 500. That last guy must be a fucking quack because who eats that much and isn't a fat bastard? So I upped my intake to 200 grams, which requires me to eat a large amount of protein shakes, lots of meat, and pretty much nothing else. Carbs are pretty much non-existent in my diet, but not completely. I haven't gone full-Atkins, just pretty close. I've also started taking my Mega Men vitamins again, along with a whole slew of nutritional supplements.

One side effect I hadn't anticipated was that women have been coming up to me and flirting with me. Where were all these women when I wasn't married? Oh well, they're just going to have to look and not touch. :)

I've also developed super confidence. I'll blame this more on the workout motivation mp3's I've been listening to than anything else, but it doesn't hurt when women are throwing themselves at you and you're in the best shape you've been in in nearly a decade. I find it weird that when you have confidence there's always going to be people that find it strange. It's like they think so little of themselves that they expect everyone else to as well, or they feel threatened by someone who thinks highly of themselves. But instead of feeling threatened they should realize that they, too, have permission to feel good about themselves, to know that they also have the ability to reach their full potential if only they want it badly enough. A year ago, I couldn't even imagine running a half-marathon. Now it's something I plan on doing in October (still dependent on whether or not my knees can handle a 10K). Even in my Army days I never thought I'd be able to do something like this.

In about two weeks I'll be doing my first 5K. I look forward to beginning training on my 10K after that. It means I go from doing cardio three days a week to five. Every cardio session burns at least 600 calories. The more the better!

That's it for now. See ya later!

For the ads...

Ever since I mentioned that I'm running, I keep getting ads for things like Fitness Singles and other stuff like that.

So I'm doing this so I can get rid of them. Make of it what you will:

Wife wife wife, I'm married, I love my wife. Married married married, get me some relevant ads, I love my wife, fuck off.

So This Happened...

It's official. I've lost so much fat off of my face that my glasses will not stay on.

I'm glad I'm losing the fat, but that is very annoying. Especially when I'm running and have to keep pushing my glasses back on my face every couple of seconds. I'm going to have to get that fixed.

But I do have some great news: My weight is down to 290. That's 77 pounds lost. And my mile time is down to 11 minutes. My short-term goal is to get my average mile time under 10 minutes. Long term would be under 8.

Speaking of running, a friend on Facebook told me about the Crim Festival of Races. It's a 10 mile race that's done in Flint every year. If I do well on my 10K I'll sign up for it.

I'm worried about my knees in my distance running. I want so badly to be able to run a half-marathon, but I don't know if my legs can handle the stress.

I'm now the lightest I've been since 2004. I'm happy the weight is off, and yet when I think that I allowed myself to weigh so much for so long I get angry about it. But it happened because after my first overseas tour in the Army I went into a deep depression and allowed my junk food addiction to get the better of me. Addiction is a motherfucker. I have to remember that when I get angry.

But I have a new lease on life now and I'm so happy about it. Nearly 80 pounds lost. My goal is to get to 240 by December 9th (one year after my surgery), so I'm well past my halfway point. While the weight is coming off far more slowly than I'd like, it is coming off. And I'm sure it will come off faster as my workout intensity increases. I'm running 2.25 miles now. When I train for my 10K next month I'll be running even more. And my strength training is going to increase as well.

See you next week!

Stupid Runner's Knee!

I developed a nasty case of runner's knee in both legs. Turns out that running three times a week and doing weight training on your legs is something you shouldn't do unless you've been running for quite some time. So I won't be able to exercise until at least Saturday, which really sucks.

I've been faithful to my workout plan up until now, and I plan on keeping it that way as soon as my legs heal up.

On the plus side, my legs look totally ripped. You could bounce a quarter off of my quadriceps. :)

I'll probably give up weight training on my legs altogether until my body gets used to running three times a week. When I start training for my 10K, I'll be doing cardio five days a week and not just three, so my legs will be worked out plenty.

My upper body isn't looking too shabby, either. I've gained back most of the muscle mass that I've lost.

As far as my weight goes, I went down to 294 as of this morning. I'm quite happy about that, although I wish the weight loss would come faster. I'm getting tired of losing five pounds at a time and then not moving for another week. I am seeing it in my belt, though. When I got my work belt just before I got off of medical leave, I could only fit the first notch. Now I'm on notch three, and on some days four. Pretty soon I will need a whole new belt altogether.

I'm also seriously considering running a half-marathon at the Detroit Free Press/Talmer Bank Marathon in October. Whether or not I sign up depends on how well I'll do at my 10K in June. If I can do 6.2 miles without messing up my knees, 13.1 miles should be easy enough. I never thought I'd see the day where I'd think a half-marathon was within my grasp. Feels good just thinking about doing one. :)