Just Say No To Veg-O-Matic

Day 51 -- Sept. 26, 2012

Today I'm 191 pounds of rolling thunder.

It's been just over a month since the lung exerciser came into our home.

If you've been reading along, this was the device I ordered off Amazon.com to help increase my lung strength and breathing capacity.

Now I'm about the biggest gizmo and gadget skeptic as there is out there. To me the Pocket Fisherman and Veg-O-Matic are strictly non-starters.

That's not to say I haven't tried my share of mega-shakes, wrist-strength builders and other revolutionary gadgets that came with promises of weight loss, muscle gain and general stamina increase. 

But I've always been a poor runner and after four or so years of running on a regular basis I decided to roll the dice and try the lung exerciser. My idea was to find something that works but not so expensive that if it was a total fail I'd get upset every time I saw it collecting dust on my nightstand.

Now I'll grant you $40 was a high price to pay for some plastic pipe, a converted plastic mouthpiece and a tiny plastic ball, but you know what? This just might be Viagra for your lungs. OK, not Viagra, but definitely a form of performance enhancing drug.

In the last week, I've run my normal 6.5-mile loop twice without stopping to walk, as well as my 5.5-mile trek yesterday. And while I'm no faster than before, I find that I'm not stopping for my heart and lungs to catch up with each other.

And the great thing is, no 'roid rage. You just have to be sure and use the device daily. And, of course, wash the thing out on a regular basis.

Now I'll be the first to admit I sound a lot like Darth Vader sitting there wheezing in and out of my lung exerciser while I type away at my computer. And I look a lot like a person on one of those late-night infomercials.

But so far, so good. I made my normal long loop today with only a few stop light stops, but more important, no walking. It was a mild day, and that may be part of the difference in my success, but I chugged down the last hill with enough energy to keep going.

So if you see the world's slowest human out hitting the streets with a new-found spirit, give me a wave.

It's Not So Much I Run, But That I Continue

Day 43, Sept. 20, 2012

Today, I am 188.8 pounds of rolling thunder.

But that doesn't really seem to matter so much today. So what?

It's funny how life can change in an instant.

One minute you're a working person defined by the things you do every day at the office or computer terminal. The next day, you're a job seeker grasping onto whatever lifeline the new normal sends you.

And then, there are the days when you get tragic emails. Yesterday was one of those days when one tiny two-sentence message changed everything by jarring you back to the reality of what really matters in life.

This message came from a friend telling us that a young man who we had seen grow from crazy preteen into a quality young man was extremely sick. And while the prognosis is unknown at this point, the reality of how unsettling it is to the teen's life and the lives of those around him stands imminently and abundantly clear.

The note also served to remind me not only how fragile life is but how genuinely nice people can be as they rally around the family. Messages of support and well-wishes have flooded in, and countless people have pledged their support.

It all kind of puts my feeble attempts at being a better runner into the category of so-what.

So what that I struggle to make it over the hills? So what if I'm not as fast as a woman running with her dog? So what if my shoes are old and my shorts aren't from a designer label?

So what?

Today's Runner's World kick in the butt quote comes from runner/writer Hal Higdon who says: "It's not so much that I began to run, but that I continued."

So that's the what? That we continue to embrace each day. That we embrace each mile. That we embrace our friends and families even more so now that we see how quickly things can change in our lives.

Now when you see the world's slowest human out on the street today, just give me a wave and say, so what.

Any Movement Is Good Movement

Day 42, Sept. 19, 2012

 

Today, I'm 188.8 pounds of rolling thunder.

I say, if you can't run, at least walk. 

Several of you have sent me notes telling me they're inspired by this blog but can't run for medical reasons -- knees, hips, shins, etc. All legit reasons, I say. No need to take the needle like a certain football coach in our area might suggest.

My feeling is any moving is good moving, especially if it lifts your heart rate for at least 20 to 30 minutes. And remember, you won't always be able to measure your improvement on a weight scale, sometimes it will come in improved range of motion, clothes fitting better, or just a general feeling of being more fit and having more energy.

Yesterday was another good biorhythm day for me. My breathing and circulation were in sync, and so I ran my entire short route with weights on my hands.

Now a lot of running experts will tell you not to run with weights, and if you try it, you need to listen to your body. Even light weights (1-3) pounds in each hand can throw off your balance; change your stride; affect the muscles in you back, shoulders and arms and a variety of other things.

So just be warned, if you try running or walking with weights, be careful. Start with light weights and work your way up in time, distance and/or weight.

Back in the day, we used to run with ankle weights trapped to our legs to improve our jumping ability, or so the theory goes. I pretty much remained Earth-bound, but you never know, I could touch the rim of a basketball goal and now I'd struggle to reach the net.

Oh, to have those young legs again.

With the temperature dipping as we head into autumn on Saturday the air has become less humid and the running more enjoyable. Whereas a month ago, slogging through 100-degree heat was a labor of running love, today it's enjoyable to get out and enjoy the weather.

My only run/walk/run for the day yesterday was on the first hill, which is more of a warm-up and barometer for how the rest of the day will go. My secret now is to not limit the walking but to limit the duration of the walks so that my overall walk time is lessened.

So today looks like another good day to hit the bricks -- weights or no weights. It's my long day on the streets, so you'll have even more time to wave at the world's slowest human.

Cool Rain Means Autumn Is Near

Day 37 -- Sept. 13, 2012

Today, I am 190.6 pounds of rolling thunder.

And welcome back autumn.

While the calendar might say we're a week away, somebody forgot to tell the weather man, or Mother Nature, or both.

Just 24 hours ago my rolling mass of middle-aged thunder was running shirtless through the streets in 90-plus degree weather. Not so much today. 

I had to dig out my running tights (OK, I'm a bit of a wimp) and my jacket for today's run. The skies were gray all day and a cool wind whipped the leaves around the street. All morning the clouds threatened to bring rain, but nothing.

As I walked out the door, I saw a humming bird floating around in our front yard. I'm not sure if that's an omen, but between that and finding a dime yesterday out on my run, I figure there's got to be some good luck in there somewhere.

Today was one of those days when you dress for the first few steps out of the door of the house and find yourself sweating like a fiend by the 2-miles stop light. 

It was a good day to run, though. The rain held off and the air was clean with a bit of a snap to it. It was a sharp contrast to recent days when the air has been thick and ozone alerts prevailed.

I did my normal run/walk/run thing without much fanfare. Yesterday, just as I stopped my run the strap on my hand weights snapped. Two weeks old and snap. Guess there's a trip to the sporting goods store in my near future. Just hoping I don't need a receipt.

But I digress. Today was a good run, followed by 10 minutes on the bike to get things loosened up.

Finally, the rain came in the afternoon, and I was glad to be off the street. It started as a sprinkle I noticed on the skylight in the shower and by the time I ran an errand it was a steady rain on a cool day.

Autumn can't be far away now.

So give me a wave the next time you see the world's slowest man out on the streets.

Dad's Runnin' On Empty

 

Day 32-33 -- Sept. 8&9

Today, I'm 193.4 pounds of rolling thunder.

Probably more like rolling Jell-O. But rolling is the operative word.

Yesterday was a sandwich fun, meaning I had to sandwich 45 minutes on the road between two halves of my work day. 

The sandwich part was the difficult part. The hard part was getting going on about five hours of sleep. Nothing like having zero in the tank when you head out on the road.

So just how did I end up on the wrong end of the gas gauge before my run? Simple math. You add a work day that ended after midnight with an early morning drop-off for our ambitious cross country runners and the result is dad running on empty.

 But that's OK. It was a fantastic day for cross country racing. The day broke cool after a cold front pushed through the area and dropped some needed rain on Friday afternoon.

The skies were clear on race day and by starting time the temperatures were mild with a light breeze. The undulating hills of the Topeka West course would provide a nice challenge.

We came to the event with two thoughts in mind. One, how fast could our older son go? And second, could we coax a sub-30-minute 5K out our younger son who seemed to have a running resurgence after nearly quitting the team earlier in the week.

In the end, it was a good day all around. The older lad made his run in less than 20 minutes for the first time this season, and he earned a cross country medal for the first time in his career. It was a great effort. You can tell he's stronger than a year ago when such a feat would have left him nearly passing out at the finish line.

Perhaps our biggest concern on the day was how our younger son would fare after pulling out of his last race and nearly quitting the team. 

But our concerns, at least on this day, were unfounded. He ran a personal best and came within six seconds of going under 30 seconds. In case anyone is wondering, that's a 9:41 mile pace, which may not be blistering, but as the world's slowest human I can greatly appreciate the effort and applaud him for getting back on his competitive horse and running the race.

Next week's race is on an even faster track where many people set their personal bests. With another week of good training and more fine weather for race day, who knows? Knowing it's a fast track and he's on the brink of a personal running milestone should give him some added motivation to do well.

As for me, I'm still the world's slowest human, just a little more fatigued than normal. So if you see me plodding along at an even slower than normal pace, give me a wave.

Isaac Provides A Good Soaking

Day 25 -- Sept. 1, 2012

Today I'm 191.6 pounds of rolling thunder.

At least I was at 6 a.m. when I got up to take the boys to their first cross country meet of the season.

Note to self, cross country coach always sends emails late. 

So it's 6:30 and I'm checking the emails as what's left of Hurricane Isaac continues to dump rain on our neighborhood. What started as bands of drizzle about midday on Friday slowly became a steady, calm rain by late in the afternoon, and it stuck around all night.

It appears to be a real drought-breaker, but it's been so long since we've had this much rain I can't tell.

Yesterday I laced up my running shoes and took on Isaac. Well, I took on the drizzle of what was left of Isaac when it came into town.

There are certain things that are great in athletics. Football practice in the mud. The sun shining down on you on a cool morning out on a bike. And call me a fool, but a good run in a warm rain is always enjoyable to me.

 

So even though my running window was limited by work and a desire to go watch my children in the Lancer Day parade, I chose to embrace Isaac and take the long way home.

Friday was my long day so I felt obligated to run my 6.5-mile route. The start of the day was much like the day before. I slogged up the first hill in my run/walk/run manner. And I even made a decent charge to the midway mark of the second.

Maybe it was the magic of Isaac or some unknown fitness kicking in, but my only stops the rest of the way were to wait out stoplights. I climbed the last two long hills and all the rollers without a walk.

When I got home, I was soaking wet. My running shoes had turned my socks a particularly nice shade of burgundy. But the warmth of the day and the refreshing drops of a long-awaited rain made the soaking all worthwhile -- plus, my running shoes really needed a washing. The summer sweat had granted them a personality all their own.

So we carbo-loaded on pizza and got the boys down early -- early for teenagers. 

When the alarm rang at 6:30 a.m. it felt like just minutes had gone by since I shut my eyes. I thought to myself, there's no way they'd cancel a cross country meet if there wasn't lightning.

How wrong a dad can be? After checking emails for 20 minutes, I gave up and started getting ready only to hear from the other room that the cancellation email had arrived.

So much for planning, but thanks so much to Isaac for a good soaking.

Looks like Isaac is sticking around for another day, so if you see the world's slowest human getting a good soaking today, give me a wave.

I Don't Need A Stinking Odometer

Day 23 -- Aug. 30, 2012

Today I'm 193 pounds of rolling thunder.

Sometimes a run is a run is a run. It's like when bikers go out and pile on miles just to say they've gone out for the day. Enjoyable? No. Necessary? Maybe. But at the end of the summer their little plastic odometers read 3,000 or 5,000 or 10,000 miles.

Maybe that's just one of those goals I was talking about yesterday. Maybe that's the kind of low-key motivator we all need floating in the back of our head to remind us that we need to get out and put in the miles.

I'd like to think my running was more of a matter of routine than goal setting. I've never really logged the miles. It didn't seem all that important. The time on the road and the process of being able to think through challenges and problems through the flap, flap, flap of running shoes on pavement seemed to be more important than keeping score.

Besides, there wasn't a day gone by that I didn't see someone out on the road that I didn't feel those pangs of guilt about not being out there grinding through the miles.

But the one thing about running, unlike biking I can roll through an hour out on the road and feel the same amount of conditioning that it would have taken me three or four hours to achieve on a bike. Now biking is still great, but when you're limited on time, a good 45-minute run can be a lot easier to work in than a three-hour bike ride.

But yesterday, a run was just a run. It was supposed to be a long day but hot weather and heavy legs cut that short. I slogged up the hills on my usual long route, but my legs and lungs just didn't want to answer the call. And the heat was back up in the mid-90s, so I cut myself a break; got my 5 miles in and allowed myself the luxury of being done for the day and not worry about grinding through more miles.

I keep a running log where I write a few things down like weight and workout, but I never stress about it unless the weight number starts climbing. I've gone down the road of logging my food intake, but about all that does is restrict my eating so I don't have to write so much. Which I guess is good because you lose weight, but it's also easy to abandon.

I don't, however, have a little plastic odometer to record my running distance. It's just what I do. It's part of my routine.

So if you see the world's slowest human out in the sweltering heat today, give me a wave.

Of running on grass, Paula Deen and Lance Armstrong

Day 17 -- Aug. 24, 2012

Today I am 192.2 pounds of rolling thunder.

I'm not sure how long it takes for something to become an adage, but there is some logic to the old saw that says don't send a hungry person to buy groceries. 

So yesterday I changed up my routine and did some running on the grass at a local park. Our younger son has some toe shoes (for runners, not dancers), so I think I might try those next time I hit the grass.

It was a good change of pace from hitting the sidewalks and asphalt of the neighborhood. The soft surface was easy on the joints and the undulating surface gave running and balance an added dimension.

Post run it was time to hit the grocery store. I guess my post-workout sandwich wasn't enough because when Paula Deen's cherubic cheeks and elfin eyes hit me from the dessert aisle at the grocery story, I melted like a pound of Paula's beloved butter.

There was even time for the angel to land on my shoulder, before the devil on the other side had loaded something called a sour cream pound cake into my cart.

The boys need energy for cross country, I rationalized.

But there was no denying it. Paula had cast her spell and the demon calorie-churning machine was in my buggy and there was no turning back now. She had thrown down the gauntlet of temptation, and I had willingly swallowed the hook whole.

I didn't want to know that a slice was a mere 240 calories, about half of which come from fat. And that's a human-sized slice and not a late-night binge slice.

I knew in my heart of hearts that behind those big, glossy eyes Paula has the cool demeanor of a soul snatcher. I've seen her cook on the Food Network. I know what kind of spells she can cast with butter.

By mid-evening I succumbed to the pressure of the plastic container, which of course when removed from the plastic tray bottom of the cake could wake the entire house or at least let them know that, yes, dad was having cake. The seductress Paula Dean had worked her magic.

I realize that you need to fall off the diet wagon on occasion and not beat yourself up too badly. So as I was drifting off to sleep listening to sports talk radio (that has to burn some calories), I listened to the sad story of Lance Armstrong being stripped of his seven Tour de France titles.

Geez, I thought. He may have tarnished his image by using performance enhancing drugs, which makes Paula Deen's sour cream pound cake seem like a safe haven for a mere mortal like me.

So if you see the world's slowest human out running today, give me an extra wave for the pound cake and the fact that I'm going to be a great uncle again soon.