Week 6 - The Treadmill Dislikes Me, And I Like To Cook

There's no escaping the fact that I'm a large man. As much as I notice the subtle losses from day to day and week to week, the reality of the situation is that I'm overweight. Improving, refining and progressing, but still a work in progress. Our treadmill is very industrial, more durable than those found at a local gym, a beast and a workhorse. However, I don't believe it was designed to have a 240+ pound individual run at 10mph for any length of time. Even if it was, it's none too happy about the situation. During the week I'm currently running either intervals or hills. My intervals consist of 1/8 mile walk followed by an 1/8 mile run that increases in speed as the session wears on. I hope to bring that up to a more effective 1/8 walk and 1/4 run, though I think the machine has other plans. I had gone through 8 cycles, ramping up for the next burst of speed. As the motor's subtle whine increased in pitch, my pace began picking up steam. Within moments my feet were pounding out an urgent rhythm and I was fully engrossed in the moment, staying focused on my breathing, ensuring my hands were relaxed, elbows close to my sides, halfway there, hang in there, breathe, hang in th-------STOPPED. The display went blank and I was again left to fumble around as my heart was shocked into recovery mode, leaving me in a less than ideal condition for precise motor skill function. Amped up and slightly trembling, my hands fumbled around with the circuit breaker switch that had once again been shaken loose from it's housing. By the time it was operational, my body had already crashed. I walked out the remainder of the session, trying to determine how to prevent this from happening time and time again. We'll likely have to get the machine tuned up in the near future, and I'll have to keep my speeds lower until then, more hills and pace work.

The desire for sweets and salty snacks has begun to subside again, the energy once used to combat those cravings further motivates me to succeed. Not that I'm completely depriving myself of the occasional treat, it's just that the size and type have been scaled back. I've once again struck that magic balance that allows me to feel satisfied with my eating, rather than always wanting. As my will power strengthens, so too will my focus. I've been preparing my own meals, and as I refine my recipes a certain sense of pride comes along with it. I now find myself looking forward to lunchtime to eat my own creations, rather than something with half the flavour, a fraction of the nutrition, and two to three times the calories.

Though I've mentioned this in a previous post, it still seems to occur frequently, so I must revisit it. I found myself at the grocery checkout, with my usual bag upon bag of fresh produce. In an attempt to cut down even further on my sodium intake, I've stopped buying pickled jalapeño peppers and added a few bags of fresh hot peppers at a fraction of the cost. As the cashier began weighing in and tallying my purchases, she asked "What's with all the vegetables?", to which I replied, "They're good for you.", trying to sound as sincere as possible since it could easily have come across as sarcasm. She then explained how she rarely, if ever, has people checking out with only produce. I suppose it's usually one pepper and a few tomatoes going into a salsa recipe, or a few apples destined to meet a flaky pie crust. I told her that the bulk of what I eat is fresh produce, raw fruits and veggies. She nodded her approval accompanied with a smile, and I headed home.

My next hockey game is quickly approaching, and I'm sure I'll notice a change in my endurance from the last time, considering how hard I've been working. I've had no shortages of motivation this past week. Hitting the treadmill is becoming less of a chore with each passing day, and eating properly has become second nature. The most difficult part of this whole ordeal is convincing myself that I will accomplish my goals, and putting all of my knowledge and experience into practice. I now truly feel as though I can. I'm not quitting on myself this time, I've got to see it through.