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.