I Walk (And Jog) The Line

It’s been a while since I posted about my morbid obesity, so why not post an update during a lazy dog-danglin’ afternoon?

The bad news is the Wuhan Virus has closed my local gym, and I haven’t been there since early March. I’ve had a membership at Planet Fitness since last July, and I was going every other day to lift weights and hit the treadmills. On the off days I would walk or jog at least four miles every day, and my weight fluctuated between 180-185 pounds. It’s the lightest I’ve been in nearly thirty years. Life was good.

Then the Chinese screwed all of us. The gym closed – and will be closed until at least August – and the stress of all this led to bad eating habits. So yeah, thanks Governor Wolf. You prick.

The good news is I snapped out of the funk in April, and decided if I can’t get to the gym – I REALLY need my gym – I’ll find other outlets. Thank Vishnu I like to walk/jog.

To date, I have completed 76 workouts for a total of 295 miles this year. (It’s tracked by the Map My Walk app.) Recently I have been doing less walking and more jogging/running, and my endurance is top-notch. Yes, I would like to alternate with weight training, but all things considered, I’m doing well.

As of today, I am sitting at 187 pounds; a two pound gain since March 16th, and still under my kill zone of 190. I never want to go above 190 ever again.

So yeah, the gym would have me closer to 180, but I’m doing pretty well without it right now. I’m still a 34-inch waist, and while I could use plenty of tone, I am fairly happy with how I feel.

I mean, I’d like to be the kid pictured above again, but that’s never going to happen.

Thin Mince

Yes, I know you’re tired of these weight loss posts, but it’s a Friday afternoon, and you’re already at happy hour. So, while you’re munching on your martini olives, I’ll give you a status update.

My gym is still closed, and I’m in withdrawal after a week away from the weights. I’ve made up for that with jogging, and yesterday I jogged five miles, stopping only once because my stupid Google Music app shut off. I hit the first mile in under ten minutes, and my total time for 5.01 miles was 52:13, new records for post-high school me.

I was celebrating that milestone, then remembered I was hitting 17:00 for 3.1 miles in high school. Ah, to be young again.

The weight is also down – again. Yesterday I weighed in at 180.6 pounds! I can almost taste the 170’s.

While I was doing a bit of bragging, Mrs. Earp snarked, “Well, your belly is still a little big.” She was kidding, but she’s right. I’d like to hit 170, but I haven’t been able to do as much ab work with the gym closed. That’s not an excuse, but there it is.

While I’m at it, I’d like to encourage those of you who wanna lose some pounds. I did this by cutting carbs out of my diet, and walking/jogging. It took me nearly ten months to jog five miles without a break. It’s difficult, but every day gets a little easier. If it can work for a fat slob like me, it can work for anyone.

I’m Not Fat, I’m Big Boned

When we returned from the Outer Banks on August 11th, I made a point to step on the scale the next morning. The scale read a depressing 189 pounds. I gained eight pounds in two weeks, thanks mostly to the delicious food I was shoveling into my gullet. Obviously, I needed to get back to work. So, after two weeks of heading to Planet Fitness and jogging – I did five miles in 56:15, a new personal best Tuesday – I registered at 183 pounds yesterday.

The jog was great because it was the first time I got the “runner’s high” – something I hadn’t seen since high school. I jogged most of the course and only stopped a few times, only for a few seconds. If I wasn’t mistaken, I’d think I was getting in shape.

I mention this because I am scheduled for another prostate checkup in October. If I need another awful biopsy, or if I eventually get a cancer diagnosis, I want to be in the nest shape possible to deal with it.

Until then, I’ll soak in all the compliments I’ve been getting for being slightly less fat.

Less Is More Less

I’ve mentioned my latest bout with cellulitis – 104.5 fever for the win! – and the misery if brought forth. After a week and a half, I finally landed an appointment with my primary doctor.

I;m sure many people have problems with their doctors, but mine is awesome. I told him about the cellulitis and he responded, “Don’t you have amoxicillin?” I replied I ran out, then after giving me a disapproving look, he said, “You need it. Like every day.”

So the doc hooked me up, and hopefully the cellulitis will be kept at bay for a while. But that’s not why I’m posting this today.

I am posting this because the doctor walked into the room, stopped, and said, “Wow, you look great. How much weight have you lost?” I told him I was 212 on January 1st and two days prior I clocked in at 185. The doc told me I looked “slim,” so I responded with the usual phrase, “No, I’m less fat.”

It’s nice to be noticed by family and friends, but when the doc notices weight loss, I assume it’s a good thing. The doc asked me how low would I like to go, and I honestly didn’t have an answer. My stomach isn’t as flat as it could be, so right now, anything under 180 would be fabulous.

I’ve been heavy since my 30’s, and now that I’m fifty, I realized I wasted two decades lying around and not exercising. It’s depressing, but it’s all my fault. A lot of friends of mine have gained weight – some have gained so much they are unrecognizable. I don’t want to be that person anymore.

True Detective Off-Duty Stories

Since my cardiologist – and my genetics – have essentially declared me unhealthy for anything besides dialing a phone and yelling, I have been working like a dog to get healthy. This week, I walked/jogged five miles twice, both in under an hour. Yesterday’s jaunt was a little more rigorous, because my route was closer to six miles than five.

And also because I ran into a very bizarre situation.

Yesterday was a beautiful day, and while the wind was really brisk, I didn’t want to skip an opportunity to get outside. Five miles in, I was sweating like Michael Moore, and bordering on exhaustion. I had one really tough hill left – which was over freight train tracks – and then smooth, flat sailing home.

As I started up the hill, I noticed a girl about a hundred yards in front of me. I glanced and looked down toward my path. My music was playing and I was just trying to get home. The girl seemed about high school age, and she was walking while I jogged. As I got closer, she turned around, saw me, and started sprinting. I thought that odd because 1. she was wearing skinny jeans (not a great choice for running) and 2. we were in the middle of a very busy street with passersby and cars passing frequently.

I mean, I don’t THINK I look like a predator. I look like a conservative Alec Baldwin, just swelled…

Continue reading “True Detective Off-Duty Stories”

Tastes Great, Less Fatty

Back in April, I noticed my winter weight turned into an uninvited spring guest. While politely asked it to check out, it refused, and wanted to stay for the summer. At the time of Julia’s Holy Communion, I was a portly 212 pounds (at five feet, nine inches). It was time to start walking/jogging and getting reacquainted with Doctor Atkins.

The first few weeks were awful. I cheated on my diet like she was Hillary Clinton, was walking a mile at a terrible (for me, at least) fifteen-minute pace. But, like Lieawatha, I persisted. In the five months since, I have exercised almost every day – including the day last month when the heat index was 112 – and have walked/jogged a total of 229 miles. My best day has been walking/jogging five miles in under an hour, a feat I have done thrice this summer.

The payoff has been worth it. I am fitting into size large t-shirts, my pants are loose, and last week, my scale read a pretty respectable 188 pounds. That’s a net loss of, like, 67 pounds. Or kilos, or whatever. Of course, the cyst removal will cut exercise short for a week, but I’m liking the less-fat me, and while the weight will most definitely fluctuate, I want to keep myself under 200 – at least – for the future.

Don’t be fooled; it’s a lot of work, and there are times when I’d rather stay in bed, but I’ll be fifty next year, and I’d like to spend my golden years in better health.

P.S. – I’m still ugly as sin, but that cannot be fixed by jogging. I tried.

In The Heat Of The Night

I gotta stop this exercise crap.

I have been walking/jogging five miles a day nearly every day this summer. I’ve had 399 workouts for 176 miles so far, and with the exception of the occasional knee/back pain, things have been going swimmingly – or it is walkingly? I feel better and I’m down from 212 pounds in the spring to 190 yesterday.

Yesterday was the problem.

I spent the late afternoon cleaning the shed, but the heat index was 100 degrees. Add in the shed’s vent windows weren’t open, if felt much hotter inside. The shed needed straightening and we needed to reach our beach equipment, as summer vacation is fast approaching. After about an hour’s work, I was sweating profusely and my shirt was soaked.

I went in for dinner – the kids wanted pizza – so I knew I needed to walk/job afterward, lest I pack on the pounds. I felt okay starting, but by mile three (much of it jogging) everything gave out. My legs didn’t feel like moving and I started feeling dizzy. Unfortunately I was still a good two miles from home, and since Kevin and Julia were at karate, I couldn’t have the missus get me.

So I walked home. It sucked.

By time I got home, I logged in 5.36 miles in an hour and nine minutes. I was sweating profusely, and even with the water bottle I felt unwell. I sat down on the patio and drank two more bottles of water, hoping to restart my engine. Even Kyle ran to the store for me to grab a bottle of Gatorade. After cooling off, taking a shower, and lying down, all was back to semi-normal.

Naturally the missus scolded me for getting dehydrated, but in my defense, I always take water with me. My guess is since I haven’t had an off day in over two weeks, ager and the heat caught up with me. Today is an off day, even though I’d rather be out there walking the streets like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman.