I did it.

Jan 2016 - Nov 2017: 312lbs ---> 190lbs

Race Day Recap (July 2009)

The morning of the half marathon began as expected, but quickly turned to the unexpected.

As we arrived at the starting line, the temperature was comfortable, there was a light breeze, and the sun was playing peek-a-boo from behind the occasional billow of cloud. Perfect conditions for a 21km trot. However, the morning forecast had predicted blazing heat with no cloud cover, but we'd have to wait and see what was in store for us. As I conferred pre-start with my running mate (and dear cousin) regarding landmarks, water stations, running etiquette and hand signals, our time to begin was quickly approaching. She was our acting time keeper and pace monitor. I had instructed her to push us to our limits, as I knew her pace was slightly faster than mine and her natural tendency would be to maintain our desired clip. As we crossed the starting line, our pace locked in as though we'd been training together for months, though she'd just arrived from out-of-town two days prior.

After the first 5km were behind us, we found ourselves cutting an effortless path through the streets, well on pace to surpass our personal bests. The temperature was rising, but the clouds mercifully remained, keeping us protected from any energy-sapping direct sunbeams. By the time we reached the 10km mark, I felt fantastic. My joints were pain-free, my breathing was steady, and my pace was true. As she provided us with our progress report, I performed a quick calculation to estimate our time of arrival. By the 10km mark we were set to cross the finish line at around 2:10, which would have eclipsed last year's time by over 20 minutes! I became very excited, but had to reel in the emotions. We were already halfway there, but still had halfway to go.

As we ducked and weaved through residential streets, I looked up through a canopy of trees to notice the clouds had all but left us. The heat and humidity were still rising, but up to this point we had been spared from the sun's direct gaze. Having experienced the layout of this course before, I already knew what was waiting for us just around the bend. The open road. The shield of green was behind us, and we were fully exposed to the unflinching brutality of the sun. As it beat down on my brow, I could feel my legs becoming weaker and my breath beginning to labour. Only 6.5km remained, but it was destined to be the most difficult distance I'd ever had to endure.

The first 15kms that seemed so effortless was quickly forgotten. Our once confident bounce had been reduced to a shuffle. The water stations seemed to grow further apart, and our pace had noticeably slowed. The crowd that lined the streets were armed with water cannons to help cool us off, but we needed actual internal hydration to accompany the exterior temperature relief. Sirens had begun to dominate the once tranquil atmosphere as EMT's were attending to, and transporting away, exhausted participants that had fallen to the side of the road. The severity of the situation became more apparent as we approached the final hill and the last 5km.

It's a relatively flat course, with the only real incline occurring less than 5km from the finish line. We had made a promise to each other not to stop or walk under any circumstance, as once that rhythmic bounce has ceased, it would have been an impossible mission for either of us to start up again. We pushed our way up the hill, passing hordes of runners forced to walk or unable to continue. Pace was the furthest notion from our minds as we reached the crest of the final hill, all we wanted was to finish.

Less than 3km remained. I could feel my body yearning for rest. I began searching for a song that would provide me the inspiration I needed to push on. After a few moments of fidgeting with my music device I swatted the headphones out my ears in frustration. My mental stability was starting to break down. My breathing was so laboured it began to resemble a sort of sobbing...crying. I looked to my cousin for words of encouragement, but she was having a tough time of it as well. She didn't respond, though I can't verify that the sounds coming out of mouth at that point were coherent enough to be considered a language. Only 2km left, and my feet spontaneously attempted to try walking. It only lasted for a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity. My knees felt like rubber and I thought I might fall. I used a sort of "falling forward" motion to start shuffling again, and caught up to my cousin who hadn't gotten too far ahead of me. As I approached her, I muttered the words "too fast" in hopes that she'd allow us to slow up a little bit. She spun around, whacked me on the arm, and told me to "SHUT UP!". My body was still in shambles, but that shot in the arm gave me the burst of mental stability I needed to power through the last few kilometres. As we entered the stadium, she said "Let's go!" and we "sprinted" across the finish line on wobbly legs. Our feet simultaneously hit the mat and we were promptly escorted to the recovery area by the wonderful volunteers.

After refueling and feeling a little more normal, we met up for a post-race analysis. I thanked her for the smack in the arm, and told her it briefly snapped me out of the mental fog I was in, and gave me the encouragement to push hard to the finish. She gasped, "Too fast??? I thought you said too fat! I didn't want you to be negative, so I smacked you! I totally would have slowed down." She then pointed to her right shoe that had a fair amount of blood soaked through. She admitted that she should have trimmed her toenails prior, as one particularly sharp one rubbed a hole into her toe fairly early on. Ouch!

2:27:38 was our final time, still almost 10 minutes faster than last year!

Afterwards, I swore that would be the last one for me. The memories were so fresh and horrible, there's no way I'd ever put myself through that again. But two days later, I was already lacing them up. I suppose either the benefits outweigh the pain, or I'm just an idiot. ;)

P.S. You may notice that my weight is heading in the wrong direction. Thankfully, I'm addressing it now before it once again gets completely out of control. I think 235 by October is still completely possible. I'm working hard, and hoping for better results as the summer winds down. Thanks for reading, and look for another update near the beginning of August.

Mini-Update for May...

I've been short on time lately, and with the half marathon fast approaching, my schedule has been filled with hard training and sound sleeping.

My weight isn't really dropping at a rate that I approve of, but it IS dropping. I've remained disciplined with my eating and workouts, hopefully culminating with a successful 21km run on the 21st of June. My longest run was 15kms last weekend, and that was in a less than ideal situation. I think after this weekend I should be well-prepped and ready to go. Feeling confident.

Long story made short, everything has been going as planned, but I'd still like to see a greater drop in weight over a 4-week span. My 3-month WW membership expires at the end of the month, and I don't think I'll be renewing. We'll see how the summer goes on my own, I may be back for a tune-up in Autumn.

"Mini-update" indeed. Nothing news-worthy, but I still felt inclined to share what little I did have.

Reasonable portions make for reasonable waistlines!

Expect The Unexpected

During the first few weeks of the month I was becoming much more comfortable with my exercise program. It was feeling more routine, and the positive mental aspects were all coming back to me. Daily exercise was becoming a more habitual experience, and my food intake was spot on with the program. I also found myself becoming less concerned with how the scale was reacting. I wouldn't call it a "plateau", though it seemed that my body was still adjusting to regular physical activity. I was on the right track, but I knew there was a monkey wrench just waiting to be thrown into the mix. A holiday. And not just a long weekend at home, we're talking out of the country. My dear cousin was having her wedding in Mexico, and though our extended family is spread all over North America, we all remain quite close. Save for a few exceptions, the entire family would convene in Cabo San Lucas for a week of food, drink, and much celebration. A wonderful combination, but not conducive to any form of weight-loss program.

I arrived with the best of intentions. After the first evening, I rose bright and early to hit the gym. My Aunt and Uncle from Salt Lake City were also there, also trying their best to keep their routines intact. I felt great as I rocketed through an hour-long session of weights, bookended by light cardio. Unfortunately, my first visit to the gym was also my last. Though I was up early enough every morning, all it took was a day or two before my gym routine was replaced with a much less strenuous activity: Lounging Around. That's not to say the entirety of my days were spent horizontal. There was a fair amount of walking, swimming, and playing in the waves. Activities that are deceptively vigorous.

Meal times were sporadic at best, but always well stocked. My Aunt from New Brunswick was at the helm for the most part, but as the week wore on, we became more independent with our daytime meals. Everyone was operating on their own schedules, and this tended to work better. All of the food was stored in the "adults" room on the other side of the resort from the "cousins" room. I stocked our own fridge with a few quick "heat and eat" items in case of late-night emergencies, but they weren't very popular or necessary. Needless to say, we were well fed. But not having snack items in our room was quite the blessing. I found myself eating much less than usual, and the calorie intake from the daily meals (by my estimate), was enough to sustain my requirements. I wasn't keeping a daily log of my intake, but found myself mentally flagging possible trouble spots. For example, one breakfast offering consisted of eggs, pancakes with syrup, and fried ham. I had some eggs on toast, followed by a single pancake (light on the syrup), and some fresh fruits and veggies. Not the heartiest of meals, but by skipping the "big ticket" items, I was able to smartly avoid the high calorie options. This is how I operated through the week. There was always a lower calorie option that I could load up on, while still being able to sample some of the more decadent options. (Avocado and paneer, FTW!)

As I arrived home sunburned and exhausted (3 flights and 1 overnighter - both ways), I was more than a little curious to see how much damage I had done. I honestly expected to have put on no less than 5 pounds, attempting to convince myself that would be an acceptable margin of gain, though I'd done everything I could to prevent such a thing from happening. I'd already gone through the entire month without ANY loss, so a gain at this point would be crushing. I eased both feet on the scale the morning after arriving home. I closed my eyes and looked downwards, and as I slowly squinted them open I expected the worst. DOWN 2.2? Come on now. That can't be right. I reset the scale and try again. Same result.

Wow. Expect the unexpected, I suppose. :D

I'd like to extend a HUGE thanks to my Mom and Grandma for making this trip possible, and a special thanks to all my family for making it a memorable one.

And to the newlyweds: Cookies & Cream.........Reese's Pieces.

A Fresh Start? You Bet!

I really felt as though I was at the end of my tether, unable to afford to keep my personal trainer, and hopelessly confused about why I couldn't shake the excess weight. As far as I knew I was eating properly, working hard at the gym, and pushing myself even harder on my days away. Something drastic had to happen, and just when I thought I'd already tried it all, there seemed to be another idea there waiting for me. In the history of my writing in this journal, I've gone out of my way to avoid proper names and product placement, but I'll have to break the rules this time. I joined Weight Watchers Online. I've heard of, and actually known, more "real people" finding success with this plan than any other, and it's one avenue I had yet to attempt. I'd always been hesitant to join, foolishly thinking that if I couldn't lose weight "on my own", then it wasn't worth attempting. Considering the amount of money I've spent to this point on meal plans, gym memberships, and assorted pills, I justified this expense as "yet another investment". Though if I was to add up all of the finances that have exchanged hands in the pursuit of my own "physical utopia", I'd likely be retiring at a much younger age. Yet, in this new structure, it seems as though it will be one of the most affordable (and hopefully most successful) plans that I've put together for myself.

Firstly, I haven't completely divorced myself from my trainers. That would be impossible, as they are very supportive, and crucial to my pending success. They are now supplying me with monthly workout plans that I will perform from home. Of course, to furnish this particular portion of the plan I've had to invest in a set of dumbbells and a bench. As the sales clerk swiped my plastic, bleeding my bank account of its precious payload, I had to step back and analyze how this purchase related to the countless others I've made over the years. I found the equipment for a fair price, and they would "pay for themselves" in only two months. (I've never been a huge fan of that phrase, especially when I'm not deriving any direct income from the purchase.) However, by curbing my gym attendance for two months and using the home equipment instead, the cost and savings of each will be balanced. Here's hoping that they don't end up like the cornucopia of other weight sets and machines purchased around the world on an hourly basis, doomed to collect dust or become encased in a laundry-lined tomb.

Secondly, my intake has been completely revamped by the Weight Watchers plan (to be referred to as "WW" hereafter). My initial weigh-in was a whopping 262, and I'm now down to 250 after a 4 week span. Surprisingly (to myself but not to many others), I wasn't eating as much I should have been. Not by a long shot. Being so grossly under my body's daily requirements caused it to think I was starving myself, and it stored every stitch of energy whenever it could. I wouldn't have believed it if I didn't see it for myself, but eating less does not translate into losing weight or gaining muscle, at least not for me. So now I'm eating more, and dropping weight, go figure.

Lastly, now that hockey is done for the season, I've once again charged myself with completing a half marathon on June 21st. Having been through the process a few times, I know what to expect, but it's still no easy task. I figure it's a very good inspiration to keep active for the coming months, lest I find myself crumpled in a heap 100 meters from the starting line. I'll also be bringing a phone with me this time (as well as my cousin-in-law!), to help prevent a repeat performance of last summer's post-event disaster. Training is underway, and I expect to finish under the 2:30 mark this year. Not blazing speeds by any stretch of the imagination, I'm still just pleased to finish.

Now that my eating situation is taking care of itself at the point, all I need is that daily desire for activity! It's all about routine, self-motivation and just knowing that it needs to be done. I've said it before, but all I have to do is take that first step, and the rest will follow.

Tune in next month to find out how I manage to stay on plan while away on holidays! Not an easy undertaking, but I'm up for the challenge.

Thanks for reading, and stay lean!

4th Month - Frustrations Are Mounting

Albert Einstein once said that the definition of insanity is repeatedly performing the same task while continually expecting a different result. That's how this past month went for me. My routine was as solid and as strict as ever, yet every time I would take a quick review of my progress, the same result would be staring back at me. My clothes remained tight, but my will was unbroken as I pressed on. I continued on through the days and weeks, waiting for the big drop that I was continually assured was coming. It refused to materialize.

Everyone that I spoke to seemed to think that either the scale was wrong, or the measurements were inaccurate. "You look fine!", was the oft heard phrase, though it was doing me no good considering I sure didn't feel that way. Sure I was getting a little stronger, but even my trainers were stumped at my lack of progress. They marveled at how I operated at such a high level of intensity, but were baffled at the lack of progress. I was doing everything correctly on paper, but it was time to find out exactly what was going on. I made an appointment to have my body composition tested. An official summary of exactly what was going on under the surface.

As I sat waiting for my appointment I noticed a chart on the wall of the office, explaining the rudiments of body composition. In short, it summarized how "being healthy" wasn't about "being skinny". If you were to go on a crash diet without any exercise, you're body would be harvesting your lean muscles for energy, thereby leaving all the unhealthy fat behind, slowly suffocating your organs. Conversely, via a balanced diet and daily exercise, the lean muscles would be able to thrive and your body would turn to the fat storage as a source of energy. It's a simple formula that just makes sense. As I've said before, that number on the scale can be quite deceptive, and this just further enforces that point. Fitness, lean muscle mass, and lowering my body fat % are the primary goals, with the overall weight following close behind. The test results were not the least bit surprising. My lean muscle wasn't increasing, and my body fat % wasn't decreasing. Something wasn't adding up, and I still have yet to put my finger on the source.

I've since completely revamped my food intake, adding more proteins and cutting the sugars even moreso. After this next month, I unfortunately will have to stop going to see my trainer(s) on a regular basis, for no other reason than it's just not affordable. Hopefully they'll be able to put together a plan that will allow me to continue my training away from their gym for the time being. The timing couldn't be worse, but I'm of the mindset that "some things happen for a reason". I'm hopeful that something drastic will happen with my progress in the coming month, which will allow me to shake this cloud of frustration. For all the effort I've been putting forth, I don't feel it's beyond reason to expect more positive results.

As the Springtime thaw begins, I hope these spinning wheels of mine can catch some dry pavement.

3rd Month - Finally Some Good News

Over the past while, I've used this journal to try and motivate myself with various catch phrases, clichés, and positive thinking. Though somewhere in my monthly summary I would always manage to sneak in a disparaging comment about how I broke from my eating and/or exercise program, followed by how I planned to prevent it from happening in the future. It's time to break from that tradition.

During this past month, I made excellent progress on all fronts, and my pace didn't falter. In the gym 3 times a week, playing hockey 2 times a week, and hitting the treadmill on the remaining 2 days. A torrid pace, to say the least, but one that I've managed to adjust to. The motivation seems to come from within, almost as if that "switch" has again been flipped. My mind and body are in agreement that what I'm doing is beneficial, and the usual cravings have subsided and given way to the daily routine. Good habits have taken the place of the bad, and any thoughts of missing or skipping a workout are always fleeting.

In the gym, I've become almost completely self-sufficient. The trainer will have the day's routine prepared, but will only need to instruct me on where to go and what to do. No longer do I require the constant coddling, pushing and prodding of a new recruit. It invokes an extra boost of confidence knowing the the trainee has the explicit trust of the trainer to perform each movement in a textbook fashion. It actually pushes me to perform beyond my limits to maintain that level of faith.

At the hockey rink, my comfort and skill levels have skyrocketed. I've matured from a role that was best described as "comic relief", to an actual presence on the ice. I'm not a superstar by any stretch of the imagination, but knowing that I can actually have a positive influence on the team when I step on the ice is definitely something to be proud of. I take longer strides, am able to actually handle the puck and make plays, and find myself in far fewer instances of panic. All of these add up to a far more enjoyable experience, and I'm getting a great full body workout.

At the supper table, I'm using small plates to ensure that I don't over do it. I've stopped eating out of containers, since it's far too easy to have too much of a good thing. It's amazing how much yogourt one person can consume if it's not portion-controlled. I've also started to really scrutinize every morsel that falls between my teeth. 100 calories here and there can really add up during the week, and learning how to eliminate these little "calorie counters" is essential to successful weight-loss. That little piece of cheese I'd have once a day? Removed from my daily routine to the tune of almost 800 calories per week!

As badly as I want immediate results, I have to constantly remind myself that it's a journey of small steps. Each small victory is still a victory, and should be celebrated as such. This past month was a definite success, and I'm hoping to be able to provide a similar report for the next.

Instead of giving myself reasons why I can't, I give myself reasons why I can.

2nd Month - I'm only human...

Adversity doesn't take a holiday. At least, that's what I'm telling myself.

December brought with it a back injury, and a mental lapse which led to a physical relapse. Though the scale may say that I'm worse off than when I started, it's not all bad news, though that's exactly where I'm going to begin.

Performing intense physical activity no less than 5 times per week is a difficult task for even the heartiest of competitors. To subject myself to such torture was a necessity, in that it kept me off the couch and in a solid routine. Two consecutive days without regimented exercise would have me looking to those bad habits that I'd been working so hard to forget. After one particularly grueling session, I had trouble getting out of the car, but just figured that it was standard soreness. I foolishly proceded to sit the night away. After all, I'd earned it, right? After a short while I attempted to get up, and found that I couldn't straighten my back or my legs. I crawled upstairs to the bedroom to try and stretch out the pain, but it wasn't about to start cooperating. After a visit to my chiropractor, we determined that it was a muscle injury, and I'd be back on my feet (and to the gym) in a week or two. I spent the following days stretching my back and legs, but I was otherwise immobile, shuffling around like an arthritic octagenarian. In that time, coupled with a few holiday meals, I managed to undo most of what I'd accomplished. The muscles that were still just developing have gone back to their original mushy state, my cardio conditioning has all but vanished, and my belt has had to be loosened by a notch (or two). But, I'm not discouraged in the slightest.

Now that my back is healed, I'm prepared to start over once again. Though I know the progress I'd attained is now in the past, I feel exhilerated to return to the form I once held. I'm going to be running at least one half-marathon this year, and my lovely cousin is making a special trip across the country to join me. It's always easier to get up for a workout when you know there's someone else depending on you.

Though it may seem that I've taken a step back, I finally feel mentally prepared to focus all my energy towards my goals. The past will remain history, and the future is ready to be shaped by the actions of the present. I don't think I've ever felt this confident, I'm honestly ready for this.

1st Month - Compliments From Strangers

This past month has been the hardest I've ever worked at physically bettering myself. 3 times a week in the gym for weight training and hard cardio, and another 2 days a week playing hockey. 5 days out of 7 containing highly regimented, high intensity activities. My weight didn't really budge for the first three weeks, which was a bit discouraging at first. I know that I should not rely on that number, but I wasn't feeling is though I'd improved in any other area over that time, just ending up extremely tired at the end of each day. Considering how hard I was working, I was expecting drastic changes, but was looking in the wrong place. After pushing and pulling weights for the first time in years, I was building lean muscle (which is more dense than fat), and in turn my weight was remaining stagnant. However, my body fat percentage has been gradually dropping and my waistline was slowly shrinking. I haven't noticed my appearance changing at all, but I've been the recipient of endless encouragement from my dear wife and other family members. But, for some reason it took a complete stranger to convince me that a change was actually taking place.

Receiving a compliment from a loved one, usually pleasant and rooted in fact, can be taken more lightly than it is intended. This is because, as a loved one, you are obligated to provide unwavering support and encouragement to your mate/sibling/offspring/friend. Compliments from a complete stranger, however, are sparse at best. Strangers are not required to provide you positive reinforcement by any means, but the rare occasions that they do should be noted.

As I was being pushed through my routine at the gym recently, I stopped for a quick rest. At this particular facility, conversations are usually non-existent, or brief and breathless at best. The unspoken mantra is that if you're able to speak coherently, then you're not working hard enough. There I stood, gasping for air, eyes pointed upward looking for some sort of divine intervention to release me from this self-imposed torture. I then heard an unfamiliar voice say, "I can tell you've already made a lot of progress!". I gradually lowered my head to see that those words were intended for me. The best reply I could muster was a wheezy "Thanks.", thrust out between heavy breaths. They then mentioned that "a noticable change had occurred in the two weeks since they last saw me". It's truly nothing different than what I've already been told by others, but this source was completely unprovoked and unbiased. Sometimes it's the little things that make a difference.

Now, please don't let that one example detract from the wonderful support that my family and close friends have given me. They set the foundation that allows me to attempt to improve myself every single day.

"Fall seven times, stand up eight." It's time to stand up again.

A Quick Update...

Hey there. I've been away from the writing game for a bit, trying to get back to basics with this whole "fitness and weight loss" business. I've determined that's it's been an impossible mission to do this alone, so I've recently enlisted the help of a trainer. Every facet of my daily routine has been analyzed, scrutinized, dissassembled, and reset. Past mistakes and bad habits are being addressed, and I'm looking forward to once again making some headway, this time more permanent than the last.

I'm thinking perhaps a monthly or bi-weekly update would better chronicle any changes that may be happening. A daily or weekly review wasn't allowing for much change to take place, possibly nourishing my frustration.

I do greatly appreciate all of the support that's been directed my way over the past while, and I'm here to assure everyone (namely myself) that I haven't given up hope.

EPIC FAILURE

Well, I knew someone would bust me for not updating, and the fact is, I'm truly embarrassed to reveal my current status.

I'm nearly back to where I started, weight-wise. Yet again the cycle is complete. Almost a full year gone by with nothing but a fistful of "experience" to show for it.

I haven't the time or patience to continue to update this blog at this point in time, but if you want to be put on a mailing list to be notified when I actually get myself back in gear and start up the blog again (hopefully sooner than later) feel free to drop me a line at:

heavytrev@shaw.ca

My life has gotten a little overwhelming over the past month, and once I'm in the clear, I'd love to start writing again. I haven't lost hope, but I'm definitely not feeling too positive at the moment...

Stay tuned, keep in touch, and thanks for reading.

-trev-

Race Day Recap

As my alarm buzzed it's morning greeting, I had already been stirring for a few minutes prior. The nervous energy that had accumulated over the past few days didn't allow for the soundest of sleeping conditions, and I found myself drifting in and out of consciousness throughout the night. I did rest much more consistently than the year prior, likely due to knowing exactly what to expect from the coming event. My lovely wife awoke alongside me, and without much prep apart from the usual morning rituals, I was off to the starting line. She had intended to wait in the stands for the duration, but the unseasonable cold had us reassess our plans. She dropped me off at the shuttle bus, and we would reconvene at the finish line. I was able to estimate my arrival to the stadium finish line within about 10-15min, as I knew my pace was steady and true, so she would only have to endure the chilly air for a short while. I, on the other hand, was about to subject myself to the same intense conditions for about 2 1/2 hours.

As I walked from the shuttle drop-off to the starting line, I began to come under a deep focus. I repeatedly assured myself that I had trained well for this, and that I would undoubtedly better my time from last year. Then, an intense blast from the frigid North wind reminded what I was up against. This was going to be a tough morning, but I was prepared. I only chatted with one familiar face out of the thousands waiting for the event to begin. We had run the first 5 miles together last year, and he was a big help in encouraging me along the way. He was participating in the relay, so his advanced pace wouldn't allow us to run together on this day. As we parted ways, I made my way to the starting area, staying near the back of the pack. My numb and shuddering hands made the simplest tasks seem horribly difficult. It must have taken me 5 minutes to pin my number onto my shirt. It was ridiculously cold, but in only a few moments, the weather would be much less of concern.

As I crossed the starting line, my pace was immediately locked in. Based on many weeks of training, I estimated that I would be finishing in a time of 2:20, which would be a 20min improvement over last year. After the first mile, the cold wasn't much of an issue. My body gradually warmed as my heart rate increased and found it's own steady pace. The first half was quite comfortable and pain-free, and by the midway point, I remained on pace for 2:20, almost to the minute. From my prior experience here, I knew the second half was decidedly slower, and mostly uphill, so I hit the turn at around 1:07, allowing for a slight decrease in pace for the extra challenges that laid ahead. Unfortunately, no amount of training could have prepared me for what was coming.

Mile 7 was the beginning of the first uphill climb, and I fought through it, but began to feel slightly laboured by this point. Almost as if there had been small amount of weight added to my feet. I knew that a slight bit of relief from the steady incline was just up ahead, as I made my way up onto a bridge into a very open area. As the shelter of the trees vanished, a gust of wind (again from the frigid North), proceeded to blast me head on. The wind was unrelenting as I made my way over the bridge and onto a seemingly endless stretch of road. Soon, every step felt as though my feet were made of lead, and the icy wind was making it difficult to take proper breaths. As my breaths became shorter, so did my stride, and I could now feel myself slowing down. The glacial wind persisted for the next 3 miles, and by the time it subsided, I was exhausted. Just in time for the most brutal climb of the entire distance. The last few miles seemed to take an eternity, as the gaps between the mile markers appeared to lengthen.

When I spotted the Mile 12 sign, I felt a sense of relief that the end was near, but I knew that I still had to make it to the finish. The last mile seemed perpetual. Every corner I turned gave way to even more runners in the distance, but eventually, the stadium was in sight. As I hit the stadium's track for my final lap, I managed to find a small pocket of energy that allowed me to pick up my pace, shaving a few seconds off my time, and allowing me to cross the finish line with a little bit of gusto, in a time of 2:36:14. As I received my medal and countless high fives from the wonderful volunteers, I made my way to the recovery area. And though the run was finally complete, one of the most troublesome experiences of my life was just beginning.

As my eyes darted across the crowd for a familiar face, I munched on an apple, and powered back some water and a bit of yogourt. My wife was to meet me at the finish line between 9:30 and 9:45, and my arrival fell perfectly into that time frame. Not willing to stray far from the finishing area, I searched for someone nearby that might be willing to loan me their cell phone. After three calls and no answer, my concern began to rise, but I patiently paced around the area for 30min. As the crowd began to disperse, there was still no sign of her, and I was getting very chilled. She was in possession of the warm clothes that I was supposed to change into immediately after finishing. Thankfully, a medic noticed me pacing around the area and came over to check me out. I explained what was going on, he gave my vitals a quick check and led me to the infirmary area. He felt as though I may be going into shock from the cold and wrapped me up in a blanket. I was somewhat stabilized within 30min, and was watching the finish area very closely for any sign of my wife.

Not content to sit and wait, I returned the blanket, and told the medic that I was going to head out and see if our car was parked in the shuttle bus lot. It was a relatively small lot, so it would be easy to spot the car if it was there. It was possible that she had fallen asleep on the couch at home. I hopped on the next heated bus for the 10min trip to our lot, and spotted the car almost immediately as the bus pulled in. This confirmed that she was indeed at the event, but where? After two bus loads of people had arrived at the parking lot, about 30min had passed, so I headed back to investigate further. By this point I had left countless messages on her cell phone, updating the situation and my location. I also had informed the shuttle bus drivers and they were communicating via CB radio to be on the lookout.

As I arrived back to the race site, the full marathoners were filing out, and the finish area was becoming very sparsely populated. It had been 2 hours since I had crossed the finish line, and the shuttle buses were scheduled to cease in 1 hour. I tried to keep a level head on the exterior, but internally I had numerous dire scenarios cycling through my head. Over the course of the next hour, I had checked the infirmary, had her paged over the stadium's P.A. system two times, and had been to the parking lot area and back one more time. The final shuttle bus was leaving shortly, so I had begun to calculate a Plan B for getting home and dealing with this mystery from there. As I approached the lone bus, the driver immediately recognized me and gave me the "thumbs up" signal through the windshield. As I quickly hobbled toward the doorway, he mouthed the words "Found her.". As I limped off the bus for the last time, I thanked the driver and his crew for their help. She bolted out of the car and ran over to embrace me. I was beyond elated that she was OK, and after the initial shock subsided, I was anxious to hear her side of this ordeal.

She had arrived a little bit earlier than planned to stand alongside the race course and root me on. Near the runners' entrance to the stadium, she found a comfortable spot to view the final meters. Camera at the ready, she proudly waited to cheer on her hubby. But, she somehow managed to miss me as I tottered by. So there she remained, no cell phone (her battery had been drained), and no idea that I had already finished. She stayed in that spot for nearly 3 hours playing out her own calamitous scenarios of what may have happened. Certain that I was lost or injured, she did some investigation of her own, and finally managed to remotely check her phone messages, leading her back to the car. Good intentions gone bad, I suppose.

My recovery was more swift and much less painful than last year, and it was likely a combination of good preparation combined with a lot of (inadvertent) walking after the run. No chest congestion this time, just a day's worth of sore knees, and a few days of sore muscles. So, another year gone by, and another 13.1 miles under my belt. I would ultimately like to do at least one half marathon per year, maybe even working myself up to two. But, I won't consider the full marathon until my body weight is at or below the 200 pound mark. My joints just couldn't handle the punishment.

As for this blog, I will continue to compile my thoughts and post them on a monthly basis at the very least. I've really got to analyze what it's going to take for me to actually change my habits for the better. Check back here this time next month for a full progress report!

Thank you all so very much for your support, I will be a success story yet, mark my words.

Week 26 & 27 - The Time Is Nigh

Well, it's almost here, two days away. 21kms this Sunday morning. I feel very prepared, my last long run was perfect. I felt as though I could have done the 21kms that morning (I stopped at 14kms), now all I have to do is replicate that effort this coming Sunday.

The problem is that this whole exercise was supposed to inspire me to lose weight. Instead I have "maintained" at best, still hovering around the 240's. I'm going to have to step back and re-think this whole weight loss plan. As much confidence as I may have in myself, I just can't stop eating poorly. Nobody can stop me. I'll keep sneaking little nibbles here and there when no one is looking, as though I'm ashamed. It's a sad state that I've been in before, and without some sort of help, I'm not sure that I'll EVER snap out of it. I'm going to step away from this blog for the rest of the month as I try to sort out what it is that I need to do to get my mind in tune with my body. I feel as though I've tried everything apart from hypnosis, and I'm still in the same position I've always been, spinning my wheels.

I will post my results when they are made available, and then will take some time to sort things out for myself. Look for my next update at the beginning of July sometime.

Thanks for reading and please wish me luck for this Sunday, I'll surely need all the support I can muster.

Week 25 - Two Weeks To Go...

As the title states, I've got just over two weeks left until the half marathon. I've been adhering to my schedule very closely, only having to defer one or two days, but not missing one yet.

My left knee had begun to develop a slight ache or twinge, but an extra day of rest seemed to put every thing back in order. I'm going invest in a new pair of shoes this weekend to see if that will help ease some of the other little pains I've been dealing with. Both of my current pairs of shoes have seen many more steps than they likely should have, so I think it's time to make the commitment and treat my feet.

At the tail end of my last long run, I caught a glimpse of myself in the reflection of a window as I lumbered down the sidewalk. I usually try to remain conscious of my posture, pacing, and breathing throughout the entire session, but I guess by this point I was a little tired. My feet were shuffling along, and I didn't appear to have much of a bounce in my step. I hope that I'll be able to correct these issues come race day, but it is very tough to remain energetic when I've got so much weight hammering down on my joints with each passing step. I'm pleased with my progress so far, but am also disappointed. Disappointed that I'll likely be the same weight as I was last year at this time. 12 months ago I was in the exact same position, telling myself "never again". Determined that I'd be fit and healthy by this time next year. Well here I am, telling myself the exact same things I did the year before. Never again. I want to be proud of myself, but it's difficult when it feels as though I've been spinning my wheels for the past 52 weeks.

I truly hope that I can one day look back on all of this and be proud of my accomplishments, but that road is paved with hard work, determination and discipline.

Week 23 & 24 - Back At It, Full On.

I don't really know how it happened, but I'm back and as focused as ever. The switch in my brain appears to have been flipped to "motivated", and there's no stopping me. I estimate that my weight will be back around the mid to low 230's, or even lower, by race day.

I've been diligently adhering to my training schedule, and have been able to see the improvements, even on a day-to-day basis. After only one full week of regular running and strength training, my endurance and pace have increased by nearly two fold. The weekend, though full of activity, was also filled with a little too much intake. Having the Monday off as a holiday, Sunday turned into an evening of excess in the food and drink department. Back on track for Tuesday, it felt as though I'd taken 10 days off. My lungs were heavy, my legs wobbly, my chest tight. All from one night of fun. Needless to say, that won't be happening again anytime soon. I feel very focused again, not able to waver.

I may be suffering from "too much, too soon", though. My 5 miler yesterday has left me quite winded this morning, and rather exhausted. I got plenty of sleep but just can't seem to wake up and get my energy going. I'll be taking it easy today, in preparation for a long one tomorrow.

There's not much else to report. As the day of the race approaches, I'll continue to share my progress regarding my pace and endurance, and how I'm managing to remain upright after all this running. See below for my formal training schedule.

Week 22 - "Diet" Isn't A Bad Word

I went to visit my naturopath this past week, and he's quite excited to have me try a new diet plan. The word "diet" has been misconstrued over the years, almost to the point of having lost it's true meaning. The mere mention of the word conjures up images of a non-stop barrage of leafy greens and tasteless broth, which is unfair. You should never "go on a diet", but you should be willing to "alter your diet".

Anyway, my naturopath wanted me to try this "new" diet plan. I usually heed his advice without question, but this time I felt a little skeptical. I flipped through the brochure, taking note of the images of fit and healthy people happily bouncing around. Once I arrived at the food chart, an alarm went off immediately. The first meal of the day was to consist of a protein shake. But not just ANY protein shake, an (insert the diet company's name here) shake. I've been seeing this naturopath for many years now, and he's never really pushed fancy marketing at me before. I mentioned that I wouldn't be interested in purchasing the "required meal supplements" for this plan. He was understanding, and said the meal plan alone can be effective without the shake. As I read on, I saw a lot of familiar information, as if I'd seen it somewhere before...

I've been at this for what feels like an eternity, filling my head with more knowledge than I thought I'd ever attain on the subject. And after years upon years of research, I've been able to pare it down to a very simple formula.

A healthy diet consists of frequent meals, smaller portions, fresh produce, lean proteins, and exercise.

Of course there's much more to it than just that, but I think most would agree that's a fairly accurate summary in 20 words or less. The "new" diet plan I was being pitched wasn't that "new" at all. It consisted of exactly what I already knew that I had to do. The problem that I'm having is how to consistently put my knowledge to good use. I've been told the same thing over and over again for years now, but for some reason my mind and body keep trending towards poor eating habits and inactivity. Do I need to be sent to the corner like a misbehaving child to learn my lesson? What will it take? I've sunk many dollars into diet plans, trainers, wagers, and athletic programs to try and motivate myself, but the ebb and flow of my life always sways me back.

Needless to say, I won't be sinking any money into a diet plan of which it's "secrets" are already known. All I have to do I apply the knowledge I already have, and really curb my weekend madness. Seriously, the garbage I've been slinging into my muzzle as of late has been monumental. I'm ashamed, but ready to smarten up again. On the fitness side of things, I've put together my training plan for the upcoming half marathon. If I can keep to the consistent schedule from now until then, I should be able to finish without too much of a problem. However, my first few "runs" have been anything but. Mostly a brisk walk with the occasional trot thrown in, but at least I'm getting out there again. I also need new shoes. Badly.

In summation, things have been stable for me lately. During the week, I'm a saint, but the weekends grab a hold of me and refuse to allow proper food to cross my lips. Now that I'm going to be physically active again (at least for the foreseeable future), it should make my transition from weekend disaster to someone with a more level-headed attitude towards how I fuel my body. It remains eternally frustrating to know what I should be doing, but continually refusing to do what I should be doing.

**NOTE: This is my 50th post, and it goes to show that I'm still "all talk", as the weight loss yo-yo continues to bounce...

Week 21 - Weight Gain and Funk Busting

My latest weigh-in was a bit of a catastrophic event. I hadn't stepped on the scale for at least two weeks, and I wasn't looking forward to my latest "mass assessment". As I stood before that evil little measuring device, I reflected over the past month, and all that I had done to earn the number I was about to receive. It all started with my birthday weekend. I had just fractured my rib and been forced to take it easy. No training allowed. Add to that the excesses that go along with a milestone birthday celebration, and you've got a belt-busting recipe. The problem is that after the dust had settled from the 4 day party, I was unable to hit the road to work off all those calories I'd taken in. Over the coming weeks, my sedentary lifestyle became more normal and comfortable as my rib healed. By the time I was ready to resume my training, I had fallen back into many of my old habits. It felt good to sit around rather than get up and be active, or so I thought. My brain and body were craving all the things that they shouldn't have been. I couldn't be bothered to lace up the running shoes as I continued to concoct infinite excuses and reasons to put off my training for yet another day. I attempted a few outings, but found myself yearning for the couch and a blanket. The pleasure that I used to derive from running or riding my bike had withered away into obscurity, and was replaced by the faux enjoyment of being a full-fledged couch potato. I found myself spinning into depression from being so inactive, which would cause me to be even less motivated to get up and do something about it. A vicious cycle indeed, and one that I still haven't fully escaped from.

Still standing before the scale, I eased myself onto it's cold, metallic surface. Leaning gingerly on the sink for support, I slowly began transferring the balance from my left hand to my feet, and watched the digits climb. Rocketing by the previous benchmarks I had set for myself, 225...230...235...240...my heart sank as the number settled on 242.6 pounds. I was seriously considering not posting my current weight, but the title does read "Weight Loss And My Struggles With It". I have earned every gram of weight that has returned, and there's no mystery as to why it is back. Positive or negative, I must be held accountable.

I ended up donating my spot in the run to a friend of mine that really did amazingly well. His effort was inspirational, and I hope it can kick me into gear to get fully prepared for the next 1/2 marathon. I've got 6 weeks to get myself back on track, and I'm fully confident that it will happen. If I can stay healthy and injury-free, I'll be lining up alongside him at the starting line on June 15th. I've created a training schedule for the coming weeks, and I've narrowed it down to daily goals, no procrastination allowed. Today's goals shouldn't be achieved tomorrow. I'm feeling more motivated now that I've put my thoughts into words, and am looking to snap out of this funk with the rejuvenated attitude and vigor that I had when this all began. It seems so simple, but it can also be the most daunting. Just lace them up and take that first step. From there, anything is possible.

Week 20 - Things Are Looking Grim...But...

With the 1/2 marathon only three days away, the assessment of my current fitness levels had to be fast and furious. I set out for a short run (that turned into a walk rather quickly), earlier in the week. I couldn't hold a slower pace for more than 3-4 minutes at a time, and my rib had become a little sore after bouncing down the pavement for a short while. I resorted to just walking the remainder, not admitting defeat per se, but knowing that I may not be capable of a 21km event so soon. As much as I wanted to participate, I had to remain realistic with my goals. My wife and I went out for a 10km adventure mid-week, and was again more of a walk than a run on my behalf. Again I struggled to find a pace that would allow me to run for an extended period of time. My cardio had suffered the biggest decline during my recovery, though my legs seemed to be holding up fine. This was to be the second to last test to see if I would be able to participate on Sunday, and things are not looking very positive.

If I was to search for a positive in this situation, it lies in how I will handle the adversity. If I can get back to, and hopefully surpass, my previous form, then I won't view this as a defeat. It would be yet another learning experience that I could place into my mental logbook. In order to pull a positive from this negative, I will have to commit to a consistent training schedule. To help get myself inspired again, I've tendered my entry fee for the "big" 1/2 marathon in June. Another touch of inspiration comes from a reader and a friend who's nearly completed his weight loss journey. He's lost nearly 50% of his starting body weight, a reminder that this truly IS still within my grasp.

Realistically, I shouldn't even be considering doing the run on Sunday, but a part of me still wants to lace them up and give it my best shot...we'll see what the weekend brings.

Week 18 & 19 - Dealing With Setbacks

It's been 7 months since I began this latest effort at getting fit and losing weight. If I had to review my performance to this point, I'd say "inconsistent with a lot of room to improve". The pain from my rib injury has finally subsided enough to resume my training, but the amount of time I've spent idle has set me back at least 3-4 weeks, maybe even longer. It's a frustrating feeling knowing the level I had achieved has waned away, leaving me feeling as though I'm once again starting over. The old me would have just as easily quit and left behind all the progress that I'd worked so hard to achieve. This time, I will have to strive to approach it from a positive point of view. My hard work can not, should not, and will not be overlooked.

I've forced myself to step back and analyze the situation. This stumbling block wasn't a direct result of a lack of initiative or effort on my part. In fact, the injury stemmed from intense physical activity. I was forced to the sidelines for a short while, and my time has now come to re-enter the fray. I've spent months building a solid foundation on which I can now continue to build. Though I may not be able to resume my training at the same pace it once was, the base level I've spent months creating should allow me to attain, and surpass, my previous benchmark. But, there's a caveat.

The 1/2 marathon is exactly 9 days from today. There's no conceivable way that I could be ready for a 21km run in 9 days, but that won't stop me from giving it a shot. If I'm feeling good about my fitness levels by the following weekend, I don't see any reason that I should not attempt the run. On the other hand, if I find myself struggling through 5-10km training runs this week, I may have to bow out of this one and look ahead to the summer's event, which itself is only 8 weeks away.

The only way to find out if I'm still capable of completing this run is to lace up, put my best foot forward, and just get out there and pound some pavement. Wish me luck, I'm going to need it.

Week 15, 16, & 17 - The "Party" Is Over And It's Time To Get Serious

The pain of my fractured rib has finally begun to subside, and I'm going to slowly reintroduce exercise and training back into my daily routine. The past three weeks have been spent undoing nearly all of the good habits I'd painstakingly instilled over the past few months. If I didn't smarten up and put a stop to this, there'd have been a influx of elastic waistbands and sweatpants in my future. Sugary indulgences, late night snacks, and sporadic meal times had all returned with a vengeance, but I've been able to snap out of that frame of mind. Reality had set in, the scale was no longer being very kind to me, and my clothes had once again begun to shrink. I'm up about 7 pounds, and have earned every bit of it. I have yet to officially lace up the running shoes, but my mental state is fully prepared for what awaits. I'm still going to train as though I'll be participating in the half-marathon which is just 23 days away. I haven't given up on that goal quite yet, though after my first good training session this weekend, I may have changed my tune.

As I munch on my morning snack of raw spinach, I yearn for the taste of pastry. Who knew that turning 30 involved so many desserts? The last three weeks have been a perfect example of what NOT to do when you're trying to lose weight. I wouldn't call it a "mistake" as of right now, and I don't carry any regrets, but I have to be smarter about my intake and fitness levels. Spring has definitely sprung, and it's time to start pounding some pavement as summer approaches. Certain activities that don't feel like exercise will help to kick start my desire. Spring cleaning is actually a fairly fun and somewhat strenuous activity, especially for a pack-rat such as myself. I'm also going to be dropping my bike off at the shop for a de-winterizing and tune-up for the warmer months to come.

Plans are great to have, but don't amount to much until they've been put into motion. I used to be much more of a "talker" than a "doer", and have proven that I'm capable of putting my words into action. It's time to once again act on these promises to myself. A lifetime of falling short of my own expectations can soon be put to an end, if only I can stay the course and consistently heed my own advice. And with that, I bid farewell to the weekends filled with salty snacks, sweet treats, and cheesy comestibles. We had a good time, but it's time to push on, toward a greater good. In reality these celebrations of food provide only a moment of happiness, and I'm yearning for a more permanent solution.