March 6th, 2012: Finally in new territory and hoping to stay that way. Down 1 to 302. It’s not a gun caliber weight, but I once had a Ford Bronco that had a 302 engine in it. I liked that Bronco. I don’t plan to hang around 302 just for that Bronco, though. This makes 48 lbs. in 65 days. I did do three of the four workouts I had planned yesterday, the treadmill just didn’t happen, but if I had done it, who knows what the scale would have said today . . . ? You know what? I’m starting to feel significantly quicker on my feet, and more in control of myself when it comes to these workouts that require choreographed moves. That little shit-ass on the step-aerobic video couldn’t lose me on the moves (man I must have looked like that dude on Footloose), I was able to hang a bit better in Yoga, and I felt like Sugar Ray Leonard at boxing.
So continuing on with the exercise theme I wanted to list a few (of the many) times I’ve been critically out of breath in my life just when I needed my wind the most. This will help motivate me to put the coals to the fire this week. These start from way back in the day:
- First game of the season, 9th grade football, cross-town rival. Five plays into the game and I can’t keep up. I’m constantly out of breath. I’m supposed to be anchoring the defense at middle linebacker, but I don’t even have enough air to call out defensive formations. Whether they run right at me or on sweeps, I am just getting crushed. We lost the game – and I’ll take a lot of blame for that.
- Emotion Bowl – Senior year in high-school. Cross-town rival (same kids from 9th grade football on both sides of the ball). So winded and out of shape that at halftime I drank about a gallon of water and then when I go out to mid-field for the captain’s meeting after halftime, I puke out the gallon of water in front of oh, 5,000 or so people.
- Wrestling – sophomore year. I have a new girlfriend. First time she comes to a match. I come out of the gates too hard. I’m winded within seconds of the start of the match. My opponent can hear my labored breathing. This is terrifying. I am pinned by the end of the first round.
- Firefighting – it’s my job to pack the chainsaw up a steep mountain to a small fire because I gladly volunteered. There is a girl on the crew I wanted to impress with my strength and stamina. I plan to out-hike everyone and leave them in the dust. 100 feet up the mountain and I’m struggling. I can’t catch my breath, other firefighters are starting to catch up and pass me, including this girl I had the crush on. I get smoked and look like a fat fuckin fool. I am the last one to reach the top of the mountain. When I get there, I nearly pass out from exhaustion.
- My nightmare (praying this never happens, but want to be ready if it does): Someone in my family needs help. I need to run a long ways to get it. I need to get somewhere fast or they are in real danger. I can’t make it. I can only go a few steps, then I have to rest. I can’t catch my breath. Cries for help that are supposed to make me go faster do nothing, and I only feel heavier and heavier. I go so slow. I am so weak. I don’t get there in time.
I’m going to work out now. I’m going to work hard today. I’ll be ready if I’m ever tested again.
March 6th, 2020: I could have a separate blog about what I’ve learned in the last 8 years regarding exercise. For a weight- loss program to work, exercise is necessary, but not to the actual levels of hell that I’ve taken it. In fact, there are a lot of guru’s who suggest that hitting it too hard in the gym can hinder a weight-loss centered program because of the perceived need of your body to replace those calories lost. In other words, it can make dieting harder because you get hungrier.
I learned that one of the toughest times to resist the demons is right after you complete a tough workout. How many times have you started thinking about a food reward about three-fourths of the way through one of those killer gym days? I know I still do, though it’s not as hard as it used to be because first, I expect that to happen, second, I have planned for it, and third, the program reminds me to say to myself, “fuck your little thoughts about needing extra food just because you did what you were supposed to do in the gym. You git what you git and you don’t throw a fit”.
So I do my exercise, and I do it to the best of my ability that day, every day. Some days I totally kick ass, others, not so much. I take no planned days off because the unplanned ones happen often enough to give me any sort of rest I think I might need. I do that terror-prevention cardio every day, though I never plan to take myself to the highest limits every day. If I planned to work it that hard every time, I might quit going to the gym. I just make sure I sweat at least once every day, that’s my baseline goal, and if I get there and I’m feeling good, I’ll light the afterburners.
