So this past weekend I ran in (and actually finished) my 3rd 5K of the summer. As I had mentioned before I finished my first two in 27:42 and 27:29. To translate that time for the uninitiated... I was fast enough to beat everyone who was walking, watching or dead. So that's something I suppose.
Anyway, this time I felt good about my ability to post a personal best time. I had some new running shoes, and I had been back at school for a couple of weeks. For those of you that don't teach for a living, let me just say that every day spent teaching is like a day spent hiking... uphill... in snow. I actually carry a little pedometer/calorie counter with me now and I average between 3-5 miles of walking per school day. Who knew right? Needless to say even when I wasn't dragging my ass to the gym, I felt as if I was getting some form of exercise in.
So on race day eve I was joined by a good buddy who agreed to run with me. Dinner? A mound of pasta with my homemade sauce. (I am Italian therefore I am bound by law to make my own sauce. Purchasing a jar of sauce is a sin punishable by death in some families). After partaking in our fill of carbs we settled in to get as much sleep as possible. One of the problems with running 5K's is that they all start so damn early in the morning. This one kicked off at 7:30. Given the 20-30 minute drive, plus time to actually wake up enough to function (much less run) I was waking up way earlier than I like to (especially on a blessed work-free Saturday).
So we wake up and it's still pitch black outside. Oh, and since I'm running a race, coffee is verboten. See coffee dehydrates the body and since I sweat like a polar bear in a sauna, I was going to need every ounce of hydration I could muster. So I'm tired, I'm grouchy and I'm caffeine free. Fan-friggin-tastic.
We get to the park a good 30 minutes before the race. Enough time to check in, stretch and eyeball the competition. Now at this stage in my career I can pretty much barely finish this race standing up. Then there are people that run an entire 5K just to warm up for the real 5K. Seriously people? Way to ruin the curve for the rest of us. Damn overachievers.
So now it's time to start the race. We all gather by the starting line. We get our pre-race instructions. I fire up my iPod. I feel loose. I'm ready to go. Eye of the Tiger. Let's do this. Ready... set... go! Damn a lot of people just passed me.
I settle in to the first mile. I'm getting passed, but I'm doing some passing as well. Just ahead I spot a girl, maybe 10-years old. OK, this little girl is not going to beat me. She has just become the rabbit at the end of the stick. I pass the 1-mile marker and I feel good. According to my playlist I did it in a little under 8 minutes.
Now we're into the 2nd mile. The little girl is still just ahead of me. Plenty of time to track her down. I make the turn at the halfway point and amazingly I don't want to puke my guts out yet. The rest of the 2nd mile goes by, a little slower than the first. I'm trying to not stop and walk and I'm still trying to catch that little girl. That doesn't sound too creepy right? It's at this point that I reach back and attempt to find that extra gear. That little extra something that will get me through this race. Of course I dig down deep and find a 35-year old body that I haven't exactly been kind to over the years. My body gives me a "Are you f-ing kidding me?" look. So... no extra gear huh? OK then... good to know.
Finally I finish the 2nd mile. One more to go and this pleasant form of torture will be over. At this point the 10-year old is a speck in the distance. Seriously... I'm getting my ass handed to me by a child. Certainly no ego-deflater there right? Midway through the 3rd mile I finally need to stop for a bit and catch my breath, and remind my feet they are not, in fact, on fire. And do I need to mention the heat I'm running in? It's Florida, it's August... enough said right? Good.
I somehow make it to the 3-mile marker. Just a tenth of a mile left. As I round the corner I can see the timer just tick over to 26 minutes. Holy crap I'm actually doing well. (FatMan well... but still... w00t!) I suddenly find the tiniest bit of extra energy. Enough to make it across the finish line kinda sorta almost fast. Enough to fool my children into thinking I was that fast the entire race. I stumble across the finish line at 26:30.. a full minute faster than my previous personal best! What's more amazing is that I'm still standing and able to form words. I hug my kids and can actually carry on a conversation with them.
So apparently I'm getting better at this whole running thing. In fact, if I lose another 20 pounds and build a working time machine, I might actually get competitive with this stuff!
Tuesday, August 27, 2013
Monday, August 19, 2013
Run Fatboy Run
OK before we get started, I just wanted to shout out to those of you that checked out the re-launch of this blog over the weekend. I got a lot of awesome compliments and it's always nice to know that so many of you out there are rooting for me as I continue my battle with fatness... and life in general kicking me in the balls every chance it gets.
Anyway... we're off and running. No literally. Back when I was The FatMan I had a desire to run. Unfortunately I didn't have the opportunity. My tonage was such that any attempt at running for any length of time was about as successful as an elephant running on stilts. Actually, that's probably what I looked like as well.
Well after dropping the weight I began to realize that running wasn't just possible, it felt good. Before long I started laying out a plan that included some fairly lofty running goals. The plan began with running in (and completing) a 5K. This summer I signed up for a 3 race series, one in June, one in July and one in August. It wasn't until I had officially signed up that I realized what I had done. I had agreed to run a crazy long distance during the hottest months of the year in a state with some of the nastiest, crappiest, most disgusting weather on planet Earth. Oh crapsticks... what have I done?
The first race was an education in endurance. Let's just say the difference between running on a treadmill and running outside in Florida is like the difference between shooting a bullet out of a gun... and throwing it. It's massive. It ain't even close. The weather was hot, humid and completely still. Breathing was like sucking on a damp sponge. I eventually finished the race in 27:42. Well more accurately... a puddle of goo that looked like me crossed the finish line.
The 2nd race was very similar. Same crappy weather, same puddle of goo, slightly faster time (27:29). Since then I've been working on really improving my time, running every chance I get, trying to drop more weight, etc. Unfortunately at my age there's another "time" I've run into. Father Time. And he's a bitch. Remember when we were kids and we could run forever and nothing ever hurt? Yeah me either.
As I write this I'm nursing a pulled hamstring, a sore knee and more blisters on my feet than I care to count. Seriously... I'm paying attention to parts of my toes that I never knew existed. And something I'm noticing the older I get: There are body parts that start to hurt... and just keep on hurting. As a kid, you hurt something, it sucked, it healed, it got better. Now? You hurt something, it sucks, it still sucks, it sucks a little more, it sucks slightly less, and that shit just stays broke... like... permanently.
So it's on folks. We're 5 days out from my next race and if the spit and scotch tape holds up, I should be fine. As for my running future? Well there's a 10K in October I have my eye on, and down the road I plan on somehow completing a half marathon... and eventually one day... a full-blown marathon. Why? Because at my age the NFL, NBA and MLB are out of my reach, I'm too old to become a professional boxer and I suck at golf. Running is one of the few sports left I can train for and fool myself into thinking I can be fairly competitive in.
Oh... and in February I'm planning on running with the bulls. No seriously! And no, I promise I don't have some crazy death wish after the year I've had. It actually looks fun. Who wants to run with me??
Anyway... we're off and running. No literally. Back when I was The FatMan I had a desire to run. Unfortunately I didn't have the opportunity. My tonage was such that any attempt at running for any length of time was about as successful as an elephant running on stilts. Actually, that's probably what I looked like as well.
Well after dropping the weight I began to realize that running wasn't just possible, it felt good. Before long I started laying out a plan that included some fairly lofty running goals. The plan began with running in (and completing) a 5K. This summer I signed up for a 3 race series, one in June, one in July and one in August. It wasn't until I had officially signed up that I realized what I had done. I had agreed to run a crazy long distance during the hottest months of the year in a state with some of the nastiest, crappiest, most disgusting weather on planet Earth. Oh crapsticks... what have I done?
The first race was an education in endurance. Let's just say the difference between running on a treadmill and running outside in Florida is like the difference between shooting a bullet out of a gun... and throwing it. It's massive. It ain't even close. The weather was hot, humid and completely still. Breathing was like sucking on a damp sponge. I eventually finished the race in 27:42. Well more accurately... a puddle of goo that looked like me crossed the finish line.
The 2nd race was very similar. Same crappy weather, same puddle of goo, slightly faster time (27:29). Since then I've been working on really improving my time, running every chance I get, trying to drop more weight, etc. Unfortunately at my age there's another "time" I've run into. Father Time. And he's a bitch. Remember when we were kids and we could run forever and nothing ever hurt? Yeah me either.
As I write this I'm nursing a pulled hamstring, a sore knee and more blisters on my feet than I care to count. Seriously... I'm paying attention to parts of my toes that I never knew existed. And something I'm noticing the older I get: There are body parts that start to hurt... and just keep on hurting. As a kid, you hurt something, it sucked, it healed, it got better. Now? You hurt something, it sucks, it still sucks, it sucks a little more, it sucks slightly less, and that shit just stays broke... like... permanently.
So it's on folks. We're 5 days out from my next race and if the spit and scotch tape holds up, I should be fine. As for my running future? Well there's a 10K in October I have my eye on, and down the road I plan on somehow completing a half marathon... and eventually one day... a full-blown marathon. Why? Because at my age the NFL, NBA and MLB are out of my reach, I'm too old to become a professional boxer and I suck at golf. Running is one of the few sports left I can train for and fool myself into thinking I can be fairly competitive in.
Oh... and in February I'm planning on running with the bulls. No seriously! And no, I promise I don't have some crazy death wish after the year I've had. It actually looks fun. Who wants to run with me??
Saturday, August 17, 2013
FatMan Returns
Hello faithful readers... The Diet Knight has returned from a rather long hiatus, but trust me I had some really good reasons. For those of you who might be new to my story, here's a brief recap:
* Last summer I was fat... very very fat. Like 250 pounds fat. I was quite literally too fat to work out properly. I couldn't stay on a treadmill longer than ten minutes.
* I asked my doctor for help (like magic fat melting pills or a laser or something), the evil SOB instead recommended a 1500 calorie-a-day diet.
*MyFitnessPal came into my life. I was praying that it wouldn't work because dieting sucks and it's evil and it's a lot of hard work and dang it I just want some magic fat pills
*The diet worked... a lot.. like really well.
*By Thanksgiving I was down under 200 pounds which was awesome
*I somehow managed to keep the weight off through the holidays, the New Year and my birthday in February.
That's pretty much where we left off so now it's time to fill you in on what's been going on with my life since February.
I have had without a doubt one of the shittiest years in the history of years. Yup, that about sums everything up. That's the story. We're all done here. Nothing to see people. Move along.
What? You want more than that?
*sigh* fine
OK so starting in February my brain stopped working properly. At the time I had no idea what was going on. Things were just... weird... odd... different. I went through a battery of tests, scans, etc. and no solid answers were popping up. Finally a couple months ago I was given a diagnosis.
Bi-polar disorder.
Since then a lot of people close to me have told me to keep this news to myself. They think sharing this information with my friends is a bad idea. They bristle every time I say it out loud. Like my condition is some Voldemort-like dark wizard that will rain death and havoc upon anyone who hears the name.
I think that's plain stupid. My Disorder-That-Must-Not-Be-Named is not a thing to be afraid of, it's not contagious, and now that I'm on a proper dose of medication it has very little effect on my life. Having this disorder is no different than having diabetes, cancer or heart disease. Would you tell a cancer patient to keep quiet because of how people would view them? I didn't think so.
Now there are reasons behind why my condition surfaced this year, and those reasons I won't share. For now it's enough to know that my year has sucked and sucked hard. How much suckage was there? Well my summer was so bad I was the first teacher in history that actually couldn't wait for it to end. I skipped happily back to school and threw myself into my work unlike I ever had before. And those that know me, know that I have a psychological aversion to hard work, so that should tell you something.
So here's the amazing thing: Through all the doctors and the medication and the sleepless nights and the pain and the whirling tornado of crap I've had to put up with since February... I didn't gain any weight. Somehow I managed to stay right under 200 pounds through this entire ordeal, which is pretty amazing since one of the symptoms of bi-polar is making impulsive decisions. Like eating a large pizza for lunch, or putting a Chinese buffett out of business. THAT kind of impulsive. So the fact I didn't turn into the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man is really freaking impressive.
But wait there's more! Over the summer I also became a "runner". I put that word in quotes because I don't do it particularly well, and it's certainly not one of the first 5 adjectives I'd use to describe myself. But once I lost the weight I started running. Then I started running a little more. Eventually I got it in my head that I could run a 5K. So I signed up... for three of them! And believe it or not, I've run (and completed) two of them so far. Yes, the man that last year was too fat to run, is now running 5K's. Like I said... it's been a weird crazy year.
Now I bet you're thinking that this is the end of the story, but you'd be wrong. After abandoning the diet that worked so well last year, I decided to start it up again when school started. The result? After 7 days of school I'm down another 6 pounds! I know, crazy right?
I feel like Andy Dufresne. I can almost hear Morgan Freeman's narration...
"Dave crawled to freedom through 5-hundred yards of shit-smelling foulness I can't even imagine. Or maybe I just don't want to. Dave Rode.. who crawled through a river of shit and came out clean on the other side."
So does that mean this blog is coming to an end? Hell no! I'm starting this puppy back up again because I am nowhere near done. My whole story hasn't been written yet, and there's so much more to do.
Buckle up people... it's going to be one hell of a ride!
* Last summer I was fat... very very fat. Like 250 pounds fat. I was quite literally too fat to work out properly. I couldn't stay on a treadmill longer than ten minutes.
* I asked my doctor for help (like magic fat melting pills or a laser or something), the evil SOB instead recommended a 1500 calorie-a-day diet.
*MyFitnessPal came into my life. I was praying that it wouldn't work because dieting sucks and it's evil and it's a lot of hard work and dang it I just want some magic fat pills
*The diet worked... a lot.. like really well.
*By Thanksgiving I was down under 200 pounds which was awesome
*I somehow managed to keep the weight off through the holidays, the New Year and my birthday in February.
That's pretty much where we left off so now it's time to fill you in on what's been going on with my life since February.
I have had without a doubt one of the shittiest years in the history of years. Yup, that about sums everything up. That's the story. We're all done here. Nothing to see people. Move along.
What? You want more than that?
*sigh* fine
OK so starting in February my brain stopped working properly. At the time I had no idea what was going on. Things were just... weird... odd... different. I went through a battery of tests, scans, etc. and no solid answers were popping up. Finally a couple months ago I was given a diagnosis.
Bi-polar disorder.
Since then a lot of people close to me have told me to keep this news to myself. They think sharing this information with my friends is a bad idea. They bristle every time I say it out loud. Like my condition is some Voldemort-like dark wizard that will rain death and havoc upon anyone who hears the name.
I think that's plain stupid. My Disorder-That-Must-Not-Be-Named is not a thing to be afraid of, it's not contagious, and now that I'm on a proper dose of medication it has very little effect on my life. Having this disorder is no different than having diabetes, cancer or heart disease. Would you tell a cancer patient to keep quiet because of how people would view them? I didn't think so.
Now there are reasons behind why my condition surfaced this year, and those reasons I won't share. For now it's enough to know that my year has sucked and sucked hard. How much suckage was there? Well my summer was so bad I was the first teacher in history that actually couldn't wait for it to end. I skipped happily back to school and threw myself into my work unlike I ever had before. And those that know me, know that I have a psychological aversion to hard work, so that should tell you something.
So here's the amazing thing: Through all the doctors and the medication and the sleepless nights and the pain and the whirling tornado of crap I've had to put up with since February... I didn't gain any weight. Somehow I managed to stay right under 200 pounds through this entire ordeal, which is pretty amazing since one of the symptoms of bi-polar is making impulsive decisions. Like eating a large pizza for lunch, or putting a Chinese buffett out of business. THAT kind of impulsive. So the fact I didn't turn into the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man is really freaking impressive.
But wait there's more! Over the summer I also became a "runner". I put that word in quotes because I don't do it particularly well, and it's certainly not one of the first 5 adjectives I'd use to describe myself. But once I lost the weight I started running. Then I started running a little more. Eventually I got it in my head that I could run a 5K. So I signed up... for three of them! And believe it or not, I've run (and completed) two of them so far. Yes, the man that last year was too fat to run, is now running 5K's. Like I said... it's been a weird crazy year.
Now I bet you're thinking that this is the end of the story, but you'd be wrong. After abandoning the diet that worked so well last year, I decided to start it up again when school started. The result? After 7 days of school I'm down another 6 pounds! I know, crazy right?
I feel like Andy Dufresne. I can almost hear Morgan Freeman's narration...
"Dave crawled to freedom through 5-hundred yards of shit-smelling foulness I can't even imagine. Or maybe I just don't want to. Dave Rode.. who crawled through a river of shit and came out clean on the other side."
So does that mean this blog is coming to an end? Hell no! I'm starting this puppy back up again because I am nowhere near done. My whole story hasn't been written yet, and there's so much more to do.
Buckle up people... it's going to be one hell of a ride!
Sunday, February 10, 2013
Singin' the Lenten Blues
Ah, so you thought your favorite FatMan had abandoned his blog just because he's all thin and sexy now right? Well wrongo baby! I've got something brand new to complain about and let's face it; this blog is only entertaining when I'm complaining.
So let's get this bitch-wagon movin'! First let me say that I did eventually re-lose the weight I gained during my Christmas sojourn up north. It took about a week and it was totally worth it. Sadly I haven't lost jack crap since then. Now that's partially my fault because I discovered a dirty little secret with MyFitnessPal. If you "forget" to log something in your daily diary... it's like you never ate it in the first place! And MyFitnessPal, while being a very supportive and well designed piece of software, isn't smart enough to know that you're full of shit and hiding things from it. Soooo... yeah that's a bit of a problem. I'm holding steady but considering the cravings I've been having lately I'd like to be seeing a little more bang for my buck.
Now on to the real bug up my not-quite-so-fat-anymore ass. Lent. 40 days of mostly no change to my life at all, except for Fridays. For the non-Catholics in the crowd, Fridays in Lent are when Catholics go without meat to symbolically remind themselves how stupid vegetarians are (or something like that). Now in the past Lent was no big deal. My Friday meu options used to look like this:
Pasta
Pizza
Fried Fish
Tuna fish sandwiches
But thanks to my fantastic calorie limit, my new menu looks like this:
Pizza
Pasta
Fried Fish
Tuna fish sandwiches
Something vegetarian
Oh goody.
Thankfully in times like this I can always count on my wife for some creative alternatives. Her brilliant ideas so far have consisted of millet (apparently people do eat birdfood), lentil soup and fish-type things. Let's just say that's a far cry from my carbo-loading loves. I shall keep you all updated on what I end up eating between now and Easter, but we are definitely not off to a good start.
So let's get this bitch-wagon movin'! First let me say that I did eventually re-lose the weight I gained during my Christmas sojourn up north. It took about a week and it was totally worth it. Sadly I haven't lost jack crap since then. Now that's partially my fault because I discovered a dirty little secret with MyFitnessPal. If you "forget" to log something in your daily diary... it's like you never ate it in the first place! And MyFitnessPal, while being a very supportive and well designed piece of software, isn't smart enough to know that you're full of shit and hiding things from it. Soooo... yeah that's a bit of a problem. I'm holding steady but considering the cravings I've been having lately I'd like to be seeing a little more bang for my buck.
Now on to the real bug up my not-quite-so-fat-anymore ass. Lent. 40 days of mostly no change to my life at all, except for Fridays. For the non-Catholics in the crowd, Fridays in Lent are when Catholics go without meat to symbolically remind themselves how stupid vegetarians are (or something like that). Now in the past Lent was no big deal. My Friday meu options used to look like this:
Pasta
Pizza
Fried Fish
Tuna fish sandwiches
But thanks to my fantastic calorie limit, my new menu looks like this:
Something vegetarian
Oh goody.
Thankfully in times like this I can always count on my wife for some creative alternatives. Her brilliant ideas so far have consisted of millet (apparently people do eat birdfood), lentil soup and fish-type things. Let's just say that's a far cry from my carbo-loading loves. I shall keep you all updated on what I end up eating between now and Easter, but we are definitely not off to a good start.
Thursday, January 3, 2013
The Results Are In
"Well... shit."
That was pretty much my reaction to stepping on the scale this morning, one day after returning from the Great White North. To recap:
*On Thanksgiving morning I weighed 200 pounds.
*I challenged myself to lose SOMETHING between then and January 2nd (the official end of the holiday eating festivities)
*I left for New Hampshire weighing 196.5 pounds.
OK, are we all caught up? Good. Because now you can commiserate/laugh/cry right along with me when I tell you the scale read 202.5. Yes dear readers, yours truly gained 6 pounds in just 10 short days. How you may ask? Well it wasn't easy. Gaining that much weight in that short a period of time takes hard work, dedication and a willingness to eat long after you are hungry. There's a level of determination that only the most seasoned fat people can attain. Gaining weight is not for the faint of heart. No literally... if you gain a lot of weight your heart will pop like a zit.
I'd like to blame this on one bad day, but I can't decide which bad day to blame it on. Let's see, there was Christmas Day and the Attack On The Noodles. There was the 26th and The Return of the Ravioli. There was also New Year's Eve and The Revenge of the All You Can Eat Option (A theme park offering unlimited fast food? Might as well hand out shotguns and beer while you're at it). To top it off there was New Year's Day and The Burrito From Hell. So many choices, so much food, so much indigestion.
So here I stand, once again on the wrong side of 200 pounds. Well.... shit. But wait, not all is lost! I still manged to lose a total of 50 pounds in 2012 which is not easy to do. And now that the holidays are finally behind us I can get this carnival ride heading in the right direction again.
Here's the new goal: 180 pounds. The point at which I will be considered "normal" (whatever that means) as measured by your BMI (Body Mass Index). I'd like to hit that by my birthday, but we'll see. Until then, I'm going to grab a cup of coffee, a laxative and a nap.
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