This morning was absolutely awesome.  Why?  Because it was terrible. Huh?  Yeah, that’s right- terrible.  The weather was gosh-awful, wet, cold, windy, and as I rode my bike through the darkness I evidently became some sort of invisible apparition-like target to those people simultaneously backing out of their driveways while eating, texting, and applying makeup.  I swear I was inches from being knocked off my bike and into an out-of-body experience– more than once.

Worse, I wasn’t alone in the gym.  Typically I am- or at least only share it with those who are using the treadmills and stationary bikes.  The weight-lifting-type-stuff occupies a different area and is usually all mine in the mornings.  This time there was no one on the bikes or treadmills- just one other guy working out at my machines.  Worse still, he was better at it than me.  Well, I don’t know about better- but he was definitely in better shape than I am and was working out earnestly and methodically (a.k.a. “perfectly”) at the same time.  It was like he was demonstrating how it is supposed to be done- like a professional exercise demonstrator (a.k.a. “exer-pro”) or something.  I’m more the opposite of that.

So like I was saying, awful.  I was cold and wet from the ride, shaken from being near-squished by motorists, and looking like exer-pro’s “before” picture or “special-needs friend”, when it hit me.  Right then I realized that if I stuck it out- did my workout, pedaled my fat butt back home through the rain, made it past the distracted drivers behind the wheels of their 3-ton suburban assault vehicles, drank my craptastic spinach-berry smoothie, maintained dietary moderation throughout the day, got plenty of rest, and woke up the next morning to repeat the process— and did it ad infinitum, it would be sooooo worth it!  “Endeavor to persevere,” as Chief Dan George would quote.

My dad has an awesome work ethic.  That guy flat out gets stuff done.  He get’s it done- not later, not during the commercials, not tomorrow, not after it stops hailing fire, NOW.  He’s constantly go-go-go.  Even now that he’s retired.  It’s really kind of annoying.  When I was a kid, he expected the same from me.  I can’t say that I appreciated it much then, but I do now.  We lived in the crappiest of places; remote places plagued by extreme temperatures, constant wind, hostile people, dust, dirt, mud, ice, insects, vermin, and other sundry inconveniences.  I always had the worst of chores; digging ditches, cleaning and repairing machinery, dirt work- and all seemingly in the middle of some crap-storm end of the world scenario during which necessity, urgency, and pissed-off-dad-fury all combined in a less than pleasurable experience.  There were times when I thought I could bear no more, and would lie in bed, concentrating with what little strength remained to just shut down and die. Most of the time I just gritted my teeth and just powered though.  Hey, when you’re ten and not allowed to mope, that’s what you do.  Can’t say I appreciated that much then either, but today and everyday since leaving that situation, I do.

I believe that by enduring the worst of situations with a positive attitude, knowingthat it’s all going to work out, pay off, and somehow make things better makes me better.  It hones my determination and grit and on days like this, I freakin’ kick ass.  I work harder, stay more focused, and am more determined than ever to reach my goals.  That’s my mantra, and I’m sticking to it.

Rock on.

Today’s Smoothie:  1/2C Blueberries, 1/2 Banana, 1S Ground Flax, 1S EAS Protein, 1/2C Spinach, Water

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Tags: don't be a weenie

Hold me back, then turn me loose!  A thousand days on the path to a healthier me- who’d-a thunk I could stick with anything so long?

Truth is, I didn’t exactly stick-with the ENTIRE time.  There were lapses in judgement, days of laziness, and moments of gluttony.  Motivation took a month off and the gym was one cubic Steve shy of full.  There were dark days.  Dark days, indeed.

It’s interesting (only to myself, I’m sure) to try to pick out those little moments and occurrences in time when my train derailed off the fat-burning tracks, my truck jackknifed off the weight loss superhighway, and my carb-starving juggernaut ran aground in the sea of nutritional tranquility.  OK, none of that makes any sense at all.  Anyway, thinking back I can pick out a couple of things I allowed to interrupt what was positive behavior in favor of not-so-beneficial stuff.

The time the exercise machine broke and I clobbered myself in the head with the biceps-curl bar.  That was star-spangled, punch-drunk happenstance that I allowed to dissuade me from returning to the gym for quite a while.  My waistline suffered for it, my furniture suffered for it, and a pair of suit pants paid the ultimate price.

The holidays!  Those bastard calendar markers that incite binge-eating and carb-loaded merriment in an oh-so-hard-to-resist fourth quarter parade of potluck face-stuffing and catered office parties.  There isn’t a photocopier made that can sustain the mass, let alone encompass the girth of a posterior 60 days into the season.  Woe unto me and my behind; for when the bells of Christmas toll, they toll for thee.  The ghosts of holiday past shall be reckoned with in the months ahead.

OK, enough of that crap.

Here’s the thing; what happened, happened.  What’s happening now is a whole mess of getting my act back together.   I’m focusing on the next 100 days- onward and forward to a fitter me.

Rock on.

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Tags: Biceps curl, weight loss

I’m closing in on the 1000th day of my journey to a healthy weight. My habit of going to the gym daily is now three weeks hold and thus firmly in place. I’m eating what I should in more reasonable quantities. One could say that I’m doing exactly what I should to reach my goals. The scale will confirm/condemn me on Day 1000.

You know what, though? It’s all good. When I set out to return to drop a butt-load of flab and return to a healthy weight (almost 3 years ago now) I decided that I would do it in a way that was sustainable. I wanted to change my life- that’s for sure, just in a way that would transform it without requiring me to do anything that would be so foreign or so expensive that I couldn’t continue it indefinitely. That ruled out hiring a trainer, signing up for a program, committing to surgery, buying pills, or buying pre-made foods. My plan was just to move more and eat less.

It works.

Day #1112 will be a red-letter day for me. That’s my birthday. The time is slipping away. Very little time left to whittle-away at what’s left, but whittle I must.

Rock on.