Week 12 - A Pants Update, and Training Woes

Many months ago (specifically in my posts from Day 2 and Day 3 ), I mentioned having to buy a pair of pants that were yet another size larger than my "big boy pants". To put things into perspective, the pants I had to supplement were a size 40 waist, the new pants a size 42. Since my weight has been toiling around in the low 230's, I've retired the 42's. I can't even keep them on without a belt, and they are so loose that it appears as if I've dressed myself in a brown garbage bag. The 40's are still in circulation, but I've run into the same problem as before, having only one pair of regular pants to wear. This puts undue strain on the laundry schedule, as well as the fact that I'm now reprising my role as "the guy who wears the grey pants". After some urging from my wife, I tried on a pair of my smaller, and now dusty, pantaloons.

My last experience with these 38's was less than favourable. It was the same day I was forced to promote myself to the now stalwart, grey coloured 40's. I remember sucking in my belly and cinching the waistline as tight as I could. The button was falling just short of it's destination, so I flopped on the bed to better arrange my girth. Ignoring all of the signs that I likely shouldn't continue pressing the issue, I managed to close the top of my pants, gingerly arise from the prone position, and turn to face the mirror. My waistline resembled a freshly baked muffin, its mass spilling over the sides of a tiny container, held in place by the will of nature. In my case, it was all held together by one little button. Straight out of a Tex Avery cartoon, the button decided it was not having much fun supporting the brunt of my excessive paunch, and promptly released itself from its thread-based restraints. Rocketing towards the mirror, the impact deflected it into the air, off the top of my head, and onto the floor. There it stayed, lifeless and defeated, as my pants slowly fell to join their fallen comrade.

My wife had observed that I may now be ready to try these poor leggings on again. I cautiously hoisted them upward, and began the customary "sucking in of the gut" to get that once traumatized little button properly secured. This time it came together quite easily, and the button showed no signs of repeating its acrobatic performance. "Snug" would be the best way to describe how the pants fit, but they were definitely wearable. I'm back into my 38's, and very much looking forward to getting my first pair of 36's before too long.

My training has been sparse at best, not that I haven't been active. Hockey games mixed in with racquetball throughout the week have provided me a great aerobic workout, but with very little treadmill time in between. With the first big race now 7 days closer, I've got to step it up a few notches in the coming weeks. It's starting to warm up around here, so I may even be brave enough to try a short run outside sometime soon. In order to be prepared to run 21kms, I'll need at least 6-8 weeks of outdoor training under my belt. The treadmill is fine for cardio preparation and some pace setting, but nothing compares to actually getting out and pounding the pavement. After a long winter of relying on the treadmill, the first few outdoor sessions will feel as though I've completely started over. The constant elevation changes, uneven running surface, and cool, crisp air can make for a startling experience. Especially after months of training in a climate controlled, perfectly level, speed adjustable bubble. The difference is that this time, I'm ready for the reality check, well, at least I hope I am. I'll have to power through it for "the little button that could". It's well earned.