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.

Week 11 - Good Food Is Heavy, and Aging Gracefully

I usually assemble the following day's food the evening before. Washing, chopping and bagging, but rarely weighing the portions. After countless nights of food preparation experience, I've become quite adept at estimating proper serving sizes. To test my theory, I decided to weigh my portions, just to make sure I was still accurate, and not over or under feeding myself. I was still fairly spot on, but as I moved my lunch bag to the refrigerator, it felt quite bulky. Almost hefty. Out of curiosity, I lowered the bag onto the scale. Minus the weight of the containers, the food weighed in at 4.4 pounds (2 kgs)! Add to that all the water I take in, as well as my supper at the end of the day, and you've got a whole lot of eats. But when I peeked back in the bag, I didn't see anything that wasn't beneficial. Red pepper, carrots, spinach, apples, and soup. The soup was the weightiest culprit, but containing a variety of veggies (green beans, kidney beans, black beans, onions, celery, tomatoes), a broth consisting of water and a splash of hot sauce, and a little non-fat cottage cheese, I wasn't concerned. I was more amazed at the sheer mass of my daily intake. That would definitely account for the day-to-day-to-day weight fluctuations I've experienced, giving even more credibility to not weighing in on a daily basis. As long as the general trend continues downward, all is well.

I'm mere weeks away from turning 30 years of age. I hadn't really thought about it too much until very recently, but when I think about how old that seemed when I was a teenager, it's a little disheartening. It's not as though a magical switch will flip and I'll be transported to a world of collared-shirts-under-sweaters, expensive coffee and SUV's. I'll remain the same person I've always been, just one year wiser, and still striving to be fit. I had set a goal a few years back that I'd be at my maintenance weight by my 30th birthday, and it appears unlikely that will happen. However, if all still goes as planned I will have only missed the mark by a matter of months, or conceivably a few weeks. I'm now four weeks from my 30th birthday, nine weeks from my second 1/2 marathon, and about 25-30 pounds from my goal weight. With my fitness levels increasing, and my weight gradually decreasing, everything seems to be coming together as it should. It's comforting to know that hard work and discipline actually do pay off.

Week 9 & 10 - A "Moment Of Truth", Learning How To Rest, and Staying Consistent

The outcome of the first contest has been decided. It was a very close finish, and although I did end up dropping slightly more weight, I couldn't accept the final prize. I was overjoyed as to how motivated we'd been, and how we both pushed each other to succeed. As horribly cliché as it sounds, we had already been rewarded and there was no need to to favour one person's success over the other's. I had lost 7.0% of my body weight (17.4 lbs) over a two month span, and my competitor lost 6.0%. We've both benefited from this experiment, and will continue to do so using the good habits we've formed, as well as continually supporting each other along the way. No rest for the wicked, I've still got another competition on the go, and the first half-marathon of the year is quickly approaching. And though I likely won't take the "grand prize" in the next contest, I still feel as though I've come a long way regarding my weight issues and how I'm dealing with them. The true battle is with myself, so if I'm going to "lose" to the other contestants, that's an acceptable situation to be in, as long as I'm always pushing myself to improve. It's not about the final outcome, it's about the journey.

Forming good habits is extraordinarily difficult. I feel as though I've tried every exercise at every time of day, looking for the perfect combination of variables to give me that "Eureka!" moment. Lately, I've been training in the gap of time between the end of the work day and before supper. It seems to provide the best block of time with the least amount of interference, with the only problem being that I'm very hungry when I initially arrive home. I've tried modifying the time and quantity of my afternoon snack, but to no avail. It's almost a Pavlovian condition when I enter the house at that time of day, I have the need to feed. The best balance I have found is to have a very light meal before my workout if needed, and another small portion afterwards.

Chillin', relaxin', veggin'. In my experience, there had always been a point during the week where I, (intentionally or not), would miss a workout. I'd previously dismissed it as a "day of rest", but perhaps it was doing more harm than good. One missed day would become two, two became three, and before I knew it, a week would have passed before I even thought about training. My new outlook hasn't been overtly altered, but it does benefit from one small adjustment. Instead of going out of my way to be lazy on an "off day", I still perform my daily workout routine, but at a much lighter pace. Even a 20-30 min walk with light intervals is enough to maintain the habit of training, without actually training. Regardless of what my workout will consist of, I still change into my track pants, strap on the running shoes and hit the pavement or treadmill every day. Even if it's a "light" day, I haven't broken my habit, and will be much less likely to miss consecutive days.

When I stepped on the scale for my "official" weigh-in, I was very happy with the number, but I wasn't surprised to see it. I'd worked VERY hard every single day, by managing my food intake and training hard, to ensure that I'd finally see the results I deserved. I'm living proof that you don't need expensive memberships to fancy gyms, pills that claim to shed pounds while you sit around, or any other gimmick designed to take your money and leave you more depressed than when you started. All you need is a fridge stocked with fresh fruits and veggies, a good pair of shoes, and the mental strength to take that first step every day. With a little patience, the rest will take care of itself.

Week 8 - One Contest Nears An End, and Another Approaches The Halfway Point

I seem to be more enthusiastic towards physical activity when being pushed from an outside source. Having registered for a running event (which is now only 12 weeks away) has increased my motivation to lace up the shoes and get training on a more regular basis. Team sports rarely even feels like exercise, and is very beneficial. But I felt I needed something more, perhaps getting my family and friends more involved. A friendly competition, perhaps?

The first contest was between a friend and myself, a 9-week event with simple parameters. Whoever lost the highest percentage of body weight in the 9-week span, would win a prize donated by the other person. We had decided to keep our weights secretive until the final weigh-in, but because we visit so often, the conversations would always drift to the topic of weight-loss. What we were eating, the amount of exercise we'd be getting, and inevitably how much weight we were down. I found myself growing increasingly frustrated with how far behind I was falling as each week passed, and it wasn't from a lack of effort. We both struggled through the holidays, regained our composure shortly thereafter, and had been progressing very well. I was focusing more on the short term goals than on the actual reason we were doing this in the first place. It was to be a jump start to a healthier, fitter lifestyle. Yet, the feeling of constantly being competitive was causing me to question my abilities. I wondered how I could go week after week of consistently eating well and training hard without a significant loss to show for it. It was becoming more of a burden than an inspiration, because of my own fear of failure. I've since managed to put it in a much more realistic perspective. At the outset, it was agreed that if all went as planned we would both emerge victorious (in a cliché-type of way). We'd be living a healthier lifestyle and reaping the benefits that came along with it. I had to remind myself that we started this contest to motivate each other, not to just "achieve victory".

Word quickly spread of our little competition and I had a few other friends inquiring about participating. It appears that I'm not the only one that felt they would benefit from a friendly rivalry. I gathered the names of all that were interested and sent out the rules for their approval. 10 contestants, 10 weeks, highest percentage of weight loss wins. Everyone contributed a small prize to be combined in a "winner-take-all" format. I was ill-prepared for the onslaught of updates and weight-loss conversations I was subjected to over the first few weeks. We are just now approaching the halfway point of this contest, and the majority of my thoughts had been focused on keeping pace with the rest of the pack. This is an impossible task, since there are so many personalities and body types involved, we aren't all going to lose weight at the same pace. Some will have that initial push at the beginning and taper off, and some have developed a methodical and steady pace. (I represent the latter.) Whereas some people have really taken the event to heart and are striving to win the grand prize 6 weeks from now, I've had to distance myself from the direct competition and continue to focus on my own training. There's no sense in comparing my raw weight-loss and fitness levels with the others. Not that I don't want to win, but I'm more excited with the prospect of my friends improving their health and achieving their own goals along with me.

I had a great sense of relief when I stopped comparing my progress to the others. It has been great to just admire what each individual has already accomplished, and compliment them on the physical changes that are occurring almost daily. Waistlines are shrinking, faces are slimming, and I remain supportive of everyone's successes, staying focused on the REAL prizes that await us. Fitting into those old "skinny" jeans you've been hanging on to for years, that bathing suit you never thought you'd wear again, or pulling on your favourite sweater or shirt without fear of stretching it beyond recognition. You just can't put a price on good health.