I've always struggled with my weight and taken comfort in food.
Portion control is an alien concept. Three years ago, I thought I had the problem beaten - I was exercising like a demon, eating healthy and doing things in my early 50's that I never would have believed possible.
When I first had success - I had dropped my weight about 75 pounds to 285ish when I hit my first hard resistance. I was still too big, but the number just wasn't motivating me like hit had before. A trainer who I was friendly with suggested trying to do a "mud run".
I've always hated running, even when I was a kid. My back isn't always cooperative. Plus, my upper body strength has always been iffy. So, the idea of taking up running at 51 and doing obstacles in the mud was just a stupid idea. Naturally, I found it irresistible.
So, I started doing mud runs - 4 of them in 2016 and got my weight down to a more muscular 241. I was slow, couldn't do the obstacles that required great upper body strength, after decades of being fat my belly is never going to be flat, so I'm sure I was a sight. But, I didn't give a damn about how I looked. I just wanted to start the run, finish it in whatever slow time it took and avoid a trip to the emergency room.
Early in the morning, I would go jogging on an old train trail near Valley Forge. Even after two years of it, I hated running and the feeling of having my spleen pop out with every step. There was only one day when I enjoyed it. I got on the trail just after dawn. A mile in to it, there was a herd of deer standing two feet off of the path - you would think they'd take off but they just stood there and let me pass. I could see the sweat on their noses, I was that close. Suddenly, my lungs weren't screaming, the sunlight through the trees was impossible to describe and the music in my headphones was better than anything I'd ever listened to before. Sadly, the next time I went out it was same old/same old - bad wind, aches and boredom - I never found that runner's high again.
My goal was always the same - finish a Tough Mudder. And, in 2017 that's what I did. I was slow, chickened out on a few obstacles, hit a few more that I just couldn't pull off, but I fought my way through to the end. I couldn't run the whole way, but the beer I earned after the Mudder was the best that I ever tasted.
After it was over, I was pretty banged up. And, I made the mistake of taking a month off from training. The next week, I went to a bbq in the rain and got bronchitis that stuck around most of the summer. I tried running a month later and it was awful. I tacked on a few pounds and slowly returned to training, but the fire was largely gone.
A year later, I was up 20 lbs heavier. Not much, when you're a big framed 6' 2" man, but enough. I tried to work out, but was awful at consistency. By Feb 2019, I was at 290. That's when I went into the hospital for an old school appendectomy. Most people today get a one inch scar, But I had complications so mine is 7" across and it took the better part of a year for it to get the muscles to stop bothering me.
I had gone back to the pattern of my life -- put on weight, go on a diet and work out for a bit, be inconsistent and fail.
But, I'm determined that this time will be different. I've done this before and not long ago - 2014-2017 prove that I can do this. So, last night for the first time since March I went to the gym. I didn't do much, just 30+ minutes of stretching. But, I went. Tonight, I'll be back and do something light.
I need to build up, take my time and for God's sake just show up.
If I can do that for a week, then I can turn it into a month.
The attached pictures are Bob circa 2014 and 2017. Now, I'm in between the two. They are a reminder of where I've been and what I can be. Heaven and Hell - it is a warning and a promise of what can be accomplished.
I guess that I'm always going to have to treat dieting and working out like Alcoholics Anonymous. One day at a time. That's pretty bad, but if that is what it takes then that is what I need to try to do.
