(pictured: Post-trail crawl after an incredibly hot/humid July in Afton, MN. Those sweat drippings are about 75 Proof)
What to do, what to do? I was stuck in a workout rut. When Moda 1st declared she was going to start race training and I valiantly joined her, it was for very selfish and narcissistic reasons. After all? You start putting on the miles and doubling the cardio, the body will have to follow suit! To hell with PR's! Bring on the six-pack!
Except, and this was apparent looking over pictures afterwards, the pounds weren't slipping off. I didn't resemble a Kenyan. Or steel spring. I still had that look of Vince Vaughn after a 3 day bender. Worse still, I was having the shittiest reflux you could imagine. Exacerbated by these super long runs. It didn't get any easier as we put on the mileage. On the contrary, getting out of bed was a pain in the ass. And legs. And arches of my feet.
And then...I lost my job. (A-gain) Or rather, I quit a lousy temp job for a new job and quit that one when the promise of a better one was around the corner...and then that fell through. Boom. So naturally I started freaking out a bit. There I was. No income. Zilch. And the only thing I could afford to do to keep my sanity was karate/run/work out/hang out with my mother. (Wait. Not that last part. Sorry mom) Moda was in full half-mar training with her new Nike Free's for the last run of the season so I made one impulse purchase in down grading from my old heavily arched Nike's to a pair of minimalist Nike Lunar Fly's. (More on that in another blog) In turn- My running grew a little easier. And come October, riiiiight before Moda's race I made another executive decision in the interest of shaking things up:
I quit drinkin'.
Now, before this winds up like an after-school special- All I did was re-evaluate my regime and make good on something I'd wanted to do for the last 7-8 years. Not being a young buck anymore, I couldn't pound the V and T's or Captain like I used to. I was getting tired of feeling like tired-ass on a Sunday after my Bloody Mary with breakfast. More over- and this will come as no surprise I'm sure- I wasn't the kind of drinker who stayed thin. I couldn't even claim to be cool or hip. And people tend to ntoice these things (The day after one particular party night, I visited mom who told me that my face- wait for it-looked bloated. Moda could smell me one morning during a Lake run...hell, even a co-worker or three could tell when I had been to a happy hour the night before. And those were the one's who were telling me, versus the people who probably kept mum)
Moreover, when you're unemployed there wasn't much else to do but stay home with a cocktail on house arrest and re-watch "Big Trouble in Little China". At noon. On a Wednesday. Through Tuesday. Hell, I ain't proud. That's just what it was. And here I wondered why my stomach was allllways frassy.
And that's when a couple of nice things happened. Not life changing or enlightening.
1) I became more productive. This has nothing to do with fitness or running, but I was less inclined to skip the gym if I wasn't feeling run-down or boozed up. I also finally made that previously mentioned Halloween Diorama I had been planning for years.
2) My running got better. Like, night and day better. Hills weren't as big of a deal and I wasn't getting sick or winded on longer runs.
3) I got a job. As a reward, I invested in a pair of Vibrams which I'll frass about some other time because they are the coolest f#cking training shoes. Period.
4) Oh. Right. I started losing weight.
Nothing drastic, mind you. 5-10 lbs. But I could button pants again. Jeans required a belt. The hanging chin tapered a bit and I got my jawline back. In the pictures that were getting taken, I didn't have to look at piggy little eyes. And the crazy thing of it, was that I was still frassin' about how I could make other changes physically. See, I was cast in my first musical in ages, and if it was like any other productions I saw there was a chance I'd be prancing around onstage wearing naught but a loincloth.
It was a little intimidating. So, more changes were needed.
No comments:
Post a Comment