Keto Weeks 1 and 2

Keto Weeks 1 and 2

Week 1 - Keto Flu

I won't lie to you. I was afraid. The keto flu research indicated that at least 90% of all people starting Keto experience flu like symptoms such as cold sweats, fever, headaches, nausea, vomiting, ticklish prostate, and irratible bowel syndrome. Okay, some of that was made up, but you get the gist. For me, I think there was a little foggyness (I love making up words) but nothing too tragic. I was thirsty all of the time which forced me to drink enough water to supply a small village. The first week left me way too hungry for my liking, but I held firm and stayed the course. With no access to a scale and no money to buy the Keto strips, I fired blindly into this new world with nothing but my wits and a pair of tighty whiteys that would make Walter White proud enough to call me his prodigal son! My original stats are bogus and cannot be verified. Also, bacon!

Week 2 - Flu Gone; what's left?

So here I lay, dry heaving on broken dreams and false promises, but I digress! Week 2 went off without a hitch. I still had a major appetite and something weird started happening with the water. It wasn't poisoned or anything like that. I realized that if I don't drink enough water, my body would let me know in some not-so-subtle ways. My throat would get dry and itchy, and I would feel hungry. As soon as I put water in my system, I was right as rain! Towards the end of the week, I had finally managed to acquire what I can personally attest to being the best scale in the  world. Cue shameless plug: 

What makes it the best? Well, it is incredibly fast, accurate, and it costs about 30 bucks. The company that makes it is family owned and operated! However, what set the bar for me was the back lit blue display. I could weigh myself with the lights off while gawking in awe at the blue light shining brightly in the darkness. Now I know how cats feel chasing laser lights. It's pretty freaking awesome! So far, I have lost 8.2lbs after being stuck in the 250s since February. Also, bacon!

Cinco De Mayo 1/2 Sucks Today

Why is the first half of the day going to suck?

1. I'm at work from 7AM to 4PM today, and yes I am thankful to have a job for those who think I'm complaining, but my complaint is a righteous one today.
2. I was supposed to run a 5K this morning, but had to cancel it because of the Cinco De Mayo Party later today. I also work second shift, so I had to get some special arrangements made in order to be able to work the first shift today so that I can make the party tonight. That means no 5k because of work, and it was going to be one of the more scenic areas of Atlanta as well as a Peachtree Road Race Qualifier. Bahhh!
3. I suddenly realized, while driving in to work, that I won't be able to exercise AT ALL today. Normally, Saturday is my rest day so whatever workout I do I try to take it easy. Generally a light bike ride, a walk, or a light run. However, I'll be able to do none of that today because as soon as I leave work, I will have to go home, freshen up, get changed, and head straight to a party that promises to go until the wee hours of the morning. I love burning 1000 "just because" calories on Saturdays because I don't eat the healthiest on those days, but today I'm just stuck and it sucks, lol. Sure, I could walk through the beautiful park during my 30 minute lunch break, but due to the nature of the work and the fact that there is only 1 person per shift on weekends, it's not going to happen. At least I'm off tomorrow!

So yeah, the first half of Cinco De Mayo is going to blow serious chunks. However, the second half promises to be interesting and fun. I just hope I'm not too tired after work and be a horrible guest! Have a great day my friends! 

Bros Before Throws

Generally I'm known to write uplifting and encouraging blog posts throughout the year. I get good responses and of course I'm always glad to help those who know less than I as well as those who know more. However, I also like to write minor musings that I come across in the gym. It's nothing we haven't all experienced and had a chuckle or two about, but I figure it will bring a little light humor to someone's day and help me to improve my writing skillz (take that grammar Nazis), but I digress!)

I do a workout called the starting strength 5x5 program. It's based on progressive loading so the earlier weeks of the gym are relatively easy fair; fodder for the kiddies if you will. However, as the weeks progress, so too does the weights you lift. As you can imagine, with me being in week 9 the weights have gotten damn heavy. It really tests you as a man or a woman. As these weights get heavier, I have found that people's behaviors change based on the loads they place on their bodies. You have 4 basic personality types as it relates to lifting heavy weights: The grunter, The Spitter, The Admiral, and The Squirrel!

1. The Grunter Oh the grunter is a force to be reckoned with! He can lift Chevrolets! He can leap tall squat racks in a single bound. He is faster than a thrown 20lb dumbbell. He pushes himself to his absolutely limit and believes that his muscles are not built during rest, but during the actually act of exercise. That is the reason he spends more time lifting than sleeping. You can usually catch them in groups, desperately trying to outgrunt each other while lifting their grandmother's ass on their backs. Nearby women folk serve as amplifiers to this kind of lifter, as they seem to get increasingly louder as the number of women around increase, or if a single woman is directly within a 10 foot radius.
2. The Spitter The Spitters are guys like me. We resist the urge to grunt because we feel that it makes you look like retards and we don't want people to notice how heavy this weight actually is. We're quite humble. Instead of grunting when the weights get heavy, we spit. We never have to wipe down equipment because we're too embarrassed to sweat. However, we do have to wipe down the mirrors. It looks as if niagra falls decided to make sure it's hair was right with it's own reflection. We'll take a drink of water in the middle of the squat, realize the weight is too heavy, and try and spit ourselves through the rep. This results in angry gym management and even more spittle on the mirrors. Which, as stated earlier, we gladly wipe off when we're done.
3. The Admiral The Admiral is a man, or woman, who comes to the gym solely to be seen. Now, they have clearly put in work, but they must go to a magical land away from the gym to work their asses off, then return to the gym to show everyone their magical bodies. They are easy to spot. They walk with high swagger and even high confidence. Their backs are straight and they are constantly looking around everywhere as if they left their phone on the other side of the gym and are trying to determine whether they should go and get it or not. They spend a lot of time looking at themselves in the mirrors. Their only disappointment is that they can't have debaucherous sex with themselves. They generally travel alone, but you'll never find no more than two of them together. They are always of the same sex.
4. The Squirrel The squirrel has the heart. The squirrel has the desire. The squirrel is the beginner. The squirrel will not listen to ANYONE. The squirrel makes all of the mistakes, primarily the most unsafe ones. You see, the squirrel is the one lifting weigh more weights than necessary or leaning on the machines for settings much too high for their level of fitness. They try and try, but their legs and arms are as spaghetti noodles. It's hard to tell a squirrel unless they are on cardio or free weights. They are difficult to spot on machines. You know you are a squirrel if you're trying to do a squat or bench and your arms are doing the "Harlem Shake" every time you lift. So the next time you see one, just know that it's not Parkinsons. It's the squirrel!

The good thing about all these types is that they are who they are. We go to the gym and see different people doing different things. No two people seem to be on the same path. So, we can kill ourselves trying to figure out who is right or who is wrong. Just think of it like this: Go, see the sites, enjoy the show, and leave! Very high entertainment for the small price! Good luck!

Like a BOSS!

Many of my friends often hear me use the word "BAWSS." That word means everything to me and my journey, and I use it to push both myself and my friends. Too many times we compare ourselves to others and we look over our own achievements. That's not BAWSS. BAWSS is being able to look at what you are doing and striving to be your personal best. I don't give a damn if you only improved that running pace by 10 seconds, you're a BAWSS. I don't give a damn if you were only able to increase that weight by 5 pounds, you're still a BAWSS. I don't give a damn if are able to run 1 mile or 20, you're still a BAWSS. I don't give a damn if you tried everything in the book and it isn't working, you're still a BAWSS! 

To me, the best BAWSS's are not those of us that can do the most exercise. It's not those of us who can lift heavier, run faster, or run longer. It's those of us that are able to get online, even when we don't feel like it, and encourage a friend. It's those of us that are willing to share our weaknesses and gracious enough to accept constructive criticism so that we can better ourselves. It's those of us that are smart enough to know better and humble enough to accept when we don't. That is what makes every single friend I have a BAWSS. We encourage each other and drive each other to be the greek Adonis's that is hidden within all of us just waiting for it's chance to see the light of day. How awesome it is for you to work to make your body and life healthy, and enjoy them both as beautifully as it was meant for us. Hell, call me crazy but I say that may just be a little slice o' heaven!

So when I call you BAWSS, or reply "Like a BAWSS," that means you're freakin' awesome! I am encouraging you the best way I know how with everthing that I have in one word. It's the closest thing to saying I love my friends without sounding like a creeper, because they are all BAWSS! If all you do is leech off others, complain, and never contribute to the conversation, then you are not BAWSS! Everyone has a little strength to share, and even the old AncientMariner needs a pickup from time to time. I haven't had a friend yet to let me down. Even if you don't believe in yourself, believe in me who believes in you! Now that's BAWSS! Stay thirsty my friends!

Real Men: I Salute you!

You are a rare breed. You see, when she was all of 5'5" and 125lbs of pure brickhouse, you fell in love with her. You did things together. You made a life. You looked her in the eye and told her that she was the one for you and that there would never be any other. You stood by her side through the birth of your children. You held her hand and relieved her burdens during and after post-partem depression. When she was weak, you remained vigilant like a knight in shining armor waiting for his princess to awaken from her slumper. When she gained weight, you were more concerned for her health than you were about how you would look being seen out with her at the movies, at dinner, or on romantic evenings. Sure, you may have hinted at working out together or getting healthier together, but you patiently waited on her and made up in your mind that you would love her whether she lost weight or not. 

Of course there were temptations. There always were and always will be. But you remained steadfast. You glanced but did not stare. You spoke, but did not conversate. You knew that you had a diamond at home that perhaps needed to be a little polished, but was a diamond nonetheless. Even in your uncertainty, you remained on the path of righteousness. Though it was thrown at you (you know what I'm talking about), you resisted, came home, and loved her more than you thought could ever be possible.

Suddenly and without warning, she began to change. She began to understand your love and the mutual sacrifices you have made to be together. She then made a promise to herself, for herself, that she would be the best she could be to herself first. Then she would be the best that she could be to her family. You would come home and she would leave you with the kids and excitedly bolt out the door to the gym. She started finding friends that shared the same interest in taking care of themselves as she did and her self confidence returned. She began to get out with you and the kids to go on hiking trips and walks and anything else that would keep her family active. She basically began to become a BAWSS!

Today you look on in Awe. This woman whom you love had immersed herself into a dark space, a dark place. She was a bud without light; incapable of photosynthesis from artificial sources. But over the months you have seen the hard work, the pain, the sweat, the tears, the triumphs, and the disappointments. These have tempered that once small bud into a blooming flower that is capable of not only receiving the best light, but also producing her own. For you, your vigilance and hard work was not in vain. Your dedication and commitment to her was not a waste of time. You have been and will continue to be her rock. And what is your reward for all of this? You have a woman that will love you forever. She will be with you and have your back forever. She will be down with you like four flat tires! And as an added benefit, she will have developed into a brickhouse the likes of which you could have never imagined. She will be a living testament to her own commitment to herself as a prideful, soulful woman. She will offer her body to you and it will be as a brand new playground for your eyes and your hands only. 

Real men out there, I salute you. Continue to stay vigilant. Continue to stand by her. Continue to do these things not for your sake, but for her sake. Being able to see the look on her face when SHE looks into that mirror and accepts the beauty that you already know she is, IS reward enough in and of itself! So, from one man to another, I salute you, my brothers in arms!

Dear Anonymous MFP friend: I Apologize

Dearn Anonymous MFP friend,

We haven't met yet. I'm in your future. You will see me motivating someone else or you may see me post in the forums and think to yourself "Hey, that's a swell guy! I'd like for him to be my friend!" Allow me to apologize in advance, my new anonymous friend! 

I'm sorry I didn't let you down. I could have been much easier on you than I was, but I didn't do it. So often we think that we have control of our lives, but we lack the power to really wrestle that control on our own. Sometimes we need help. I'm sorry that I commented on your log because I cared about your health when you consistently ate 800 calories for a whole week, or for that 4 day period where you were over 1500 calories due to stresses in your life. I'm sorry that I wasn't the silent majority. Please accept my apologies for not even looking at your log and caring about what you wrote while just saying "Good job," "Way to go," or "Good looking buddy!"

I wish I could fail you. I wish I could let you fail yourself, but I can't. You see, I need you as much as you need me. We have to encourage each other and be there through each other's good times and tough times. I had a friend once, not you Anonymous new MFP friend, that used to always beat me over the back about not eating vegtables. I didn't cower away by hiding my diary, I didn't make excuses, and I didn't tell that good friend "Oh you just don't understand my situation!" I worked on it, I asked questions, I dialogued about it, and I fixed it! I'm still working on it even today, but thanks to that friend it is on my mind at all the time! 

Lastly, I'm sorry for asking you to help me. I'm sorry that I somehow made you assume motivation was a one way street instead of a 2 lane highway.  My sincerest apologies for trying to lean on your shoulder, fully expecting it to be there when my times were tough. It was irresponsible of me to assume that you would bust my chops the day I ate 3 bags of pork rinds and topped it off with 4 liters of coca-cola on a day that I wasn't spiking. Silly me for thinking that you would not allow me to fail myself, as I tried to not allow you to fail yourself! 

It will be a crazy ride new anonymous MFP friend. You will either ride or get rode on! You will either barbecue or mildew! Either way I wish you the best in your journey, regardless of the path you take. Please accept these apologies from the bottom of my heart, and know that I just wasn't able to be the friend you wanted me to be, but the friend you needed me to be. Take care new anonymous MFP friend, and know that if you ever want to take your hand off of the delete key under my name in the inevitable future, I'll be waiting under the squat rack with open arms and a pair of fresh running shoes!

The Gym Bag

Remember the first time you went to the gym. You were quite prepared. You had towels, extra shoes, 2 different watches, a couple of heart rate monitors, two sets of clothes, two bars of soap, your hairspray, your makeup kit, extra deodorant, and you even remember to bring your extra special loofa just for good measure. That's a lot of stuff to carry around, day in and day out, while you navigate the gym. 

 

As you, no doubt, continued to progress, you started to realize that it was okay to leave certain things behind. Your bag then began to shrink according to your situation. You became less afraid of what you don't have and more self aware of the badassery that lied dormant within yourself. All of this STUFF to prepare yourself for when your workout was over. It was an amazing shift in how you saw things.

 

You see, when you first started going to the gym with the extra special bag, the workout had to fit into your schedule. There were other things more important to you and the workout was just a part of the daily grind of life. It was nothing special. It came, it went, and you carried on. However, slowly there was change. 

 

You started noticing positive things going on with your body. You started becoming self assure and self confident. You begin to know your limits, and even better, how to overcome them. No one could tell you diffferent. Perhaps they laughed at first, now they sought you out for advice. Perhaps you had once been a student of the gym, but now had become a sage. More importantly, your workouts became a lifestyle. It became a part of you as integral as breathing. That was the day you showed up at the gym without the bag.

 

I'm reminded of Erykah Badu's song "Bag Lady." One of the lines she says "You can't hurry up, you got too much stuff." How much does that apply to your journey. Are you still lugging huge bags out to the gym, or have you become BAWSS enough to trust in yourself, your plan, and your direction to let the things weighing you down melt away? Take stock. Take inventory. You might just find that you left that bag at home a long time ago, and all that remains is the strap that used to pin it to your life. 

 

"To hell with circumstances. I create opportunities.” – Bruce Lee

The Cafeteria Lady

There is a woman that works as a Cafeteria lady for Aramark. They pretty much have a permanent contract with our company so they have been staffing and providing meals in our company cafeteria for years. I'm always cordial with the staff and we have a good time. One of the women, in particularly, knows that I have been working out and eating properly and she is very supportive of those efforts. It's not her thing, but she's a great listener and it's good to just "shop talk" with her in the mornings before my day begins.

Today, I had to go to the cafeteria and get lunch. Generally I bring lunch from home, but last night was "fend for yourself night" so the wife had not cooked anything for me to bring to work today. I ordered 2 plain chicken breast and, GASP, an order of fries! The heavens cracked open and millions of calories rained death across the sky. There was great wailing and gnashing of teeth. Colonel Sanders rode across the skyline on a pale white horse and hell followed with him, but I digress. 

So I ordered and took it to the register. The cafeteria lady was there waiting for me and ask me what I ordered. I casually told her "Two chicken bizzles with no sizzle and some mudderfreakin' frizzles!" Correctly understanding this highly intellectual urban dialect, she repeated "So you ordered 2 plain chicken breasts and fries?" To which I nodded with a cool, southern "Fa sho!" I think the dialogue was a bit more professional, but that's how I like to remember it!

When I told her what I ordered, she laughed. Hard. Not your typical girlie laugh like your girlfriend just pooted and she doesn't think you know she did it, even though you always do. No. This was a hearty laugh that came from her belly that bellowed through the room like a thrown bowl of grape jelly! She laughed, because for all of my health talk and temple consciousness, I was fallible because I was getting fries :)

She saw that one incident, and laughed. She's a good person, and generally joyous, so I know she didn't mean it in any type of mean spirited way. But let's talk about what she doesn't see.

She doesn't see the hundreds of pounds of weights lifted every week. She doesn't see the dozens of miles ran or the 4am wake up times for those runs. She doesn't see the sacrifice we put into our bodies and our lifestyles. She doesn't see the sweat soaking through my clothes because instead of giving my all to the television, I give my all to the steel and my running shoes. She doesn't see the disappointment of a pound gained, the joy of a pound lost, and the brazen tenacity to pick yourself up every time to hit that punching bag harder than you ever hit it before. She doesn't know what it takes to have one single mile left on your run and NOT slow down. She doesn't see!

I called out my order with confidence. We give everything we have and work too hard to be disappointed by a cookie, dissuaded by a fry, or sidelined by a piece of fried chicken. We are unmoved by the occassional piece of cake and unwavering when you wake up and feel like having a donut. We remain steadfast to our goals and revel in the journey we must take to get there. So if you want that THING that is going to go straight to your hips then I say have it, because you are going to be so busy moving your body that it won't even have time to settle in your stomach! Push just a little bit harder, lift just a little bit heavier, be just a little bit stronger and you WILL achieve your goal. You set the standard, stick with it, and your body has no choice but to get it's ass in line! Let's go get it! BAWSS!!

Kiss Me Baby

The KISS method. It's as simple as that. Keep It Simple Stupid or Keep It Stupidly Simple. The honorable martial arts legend, Bruce Lee, once said "To me, the extraordinary aspect of martial arts lies in its simplicity. The easy way is also the right way, and martial arts is nothing at all special; the closer to the true way of martial arts, the less wastage of expression there is."

I started running to get into shape. Indeed, that was my primary goal and focus on this wayward adventure. I've met PR's, overcome injuries, and busted through obstacles. Through this trial by fire I have grown to love it like a hobby. It is fun. This entire lifestyle of simply moving my body is fun. It is enjoyable, challenging, relaxing, and energizing. The moment it ceases to be fun will be the moment I quit and move on to something else. Fortunately, it is the type of something that has me hooked for life. It is my most efficient and honest means of self expression. 

I'd like to think that Bruce touched on something really important. We get so caught up in so many different diets, numbers, questions, self doubts, and uncertainties that we waste expression. When you run, jog, play tennis, lift weights, move your body, swim, or any host of other things that make you sweat, you are expressing yourself in its truest form. When was the last time you got out and ran just because? When was the last time you left the gadgets in the house and just moved to express yourself? I look over at my Garmin 305 that I got for Christmas and I was so excited to receive it. It is a miracle of modern technology and it can let me know almost anything I need to know on most of the exercises I do. However, it ties me to the numbers. It takes the beauty and art of my workout and presses it into a standard. It reminds me, sometimes, of how awesome I am not.

I would encourage you not to get caught up in the barrage of numbers. Keep it simple. Get out and run, swim, dance and express yourself in all that you do. Do not waste your expression, as it is too valuable to callously throw away to the dogs. While the numbers are important, they do not define who you are. They do not define your passion. They do not define your expression. Keep them in their place and control them as needed, but never lose yourself within their asphyxiating grasp! Every once in a while, keep it simple and remind yourself that you are a human. Good luck! 

Twas the Day I Was Weightlifting

A funny inspired by my good friend Kimbly71

Twas the day I was weightlifting, and all through the gym
People were curling in the squat rack, SHAME SHAME upon them
The cruisers were hung by the bench press with care
In the hopes that some muscular savior soon would be there

The newcomers were nestled all snug in their sets
While we heckled and secretly placed “who would quit first” bets
While I in my converse and under armour cap
Had just pumped up my brain to repeatedly lift crap
 
When across the room there arose such a clatter
I sprang from my squats to see what was the matter
Away from my 3 plates I flew in a flash
Only pausing once, to 2-step, in the midst of my dash
 
The fluorescent lights caste a surgical glow
Upon a middle aged gentleman who was squatting quite low
When what did my wondering eyes happen to catch
Creeping through his shorts was a forest covering his “sacks”

He went up and down so lively and quick
Unaware of his nether mane and fully exposed… stick
He counted his reps one by one as they came
One, two, three, four as he called out each by name

He continued to squat with his giblets exposed
Unaware of the draft blasting gently below
I glanced only peripherally if I correctly recall
As I did not want a full confrontation with this gentleman’s balls

I know that you’re asking how long did it take
For me to take notice of whether the curtains matched the drapes
I cannot tell you for I do not remember
The particulars of such debauchery on that cold cold December

And then in a twinkling, I looked to my right
To witness someone lifting… or maybe not quite
The woman had a 2 plate that was clearly too much
And she couldn’t bring it back up, she was about to be crushed

Why woman, oh woman, did you not get a spot
As I lifted the weight she said she “just plain forgot”
She thought she could handle just a little bit more
Since she did 50 for reps just two days before

Then the gym went all silent… no one dared make a sound
I looked over my shoulder and slowly turned ‘round
I could not believe my eyes… the truth began to unfold
There was the Russian Weight lifting Jesus, from legend of old

I had only heard of him on the internet through forums and such
A man whose skill was unmatched… squat couldn’t be touched
He would choose you at random with knowledge to impart
That would turn basic weight lifting into a certified art

He chose me at random and worked on my form
He said “Hell hath no fury like a squat incorrectly performed!”
I learned about squats and I learned about oats
And when he demonstrated his 5 plate the weight seemed to float

Finally demonstrating my set I turned towards the mirror
My purpose secure, my vision much clearer
I turned back ‘round to thank him for my body was spent
For as silently he had come, thus silently he went

So was the day I went weighlifting, I hope it helps ya’ll
From the weight lifting Jesus to the gentleman’s balls
So the session is over, and this class is dismissed
I just hope the mods don’t read my poem and thusly get pissed!

Also... BAWLLS! 
 

The AncientMariner aka Saffmeister AKA Team BAWSS

That's What Friends Are For!!!

Growing up I was a loner. I was as adept at living life without friends as I was with friends. Even today, I can count the number of real life friends I have on both fingers. Often, I justify this with the age old mantra of "quality over quantity," but even that sounds like a fallback for only the loneliest of people. Truth be told, I would rather have a million friends whom cared about me as much as I cared about them, but unless you're Zuckerberg that's impossible. Now that I think about it, I wouldn't want even a fraction of the percentage of "friends" that dude has anyway, lol!

We have many discussions about motivation. We talk about being the wolf and getting up on your own two feet. We talk about pulling yourself up by the boot straps and owning your journey! We even tell you that at the end of the day it's YOUR journey and you put into it what you get out of it. All of this is very true, but what do you do when the chips are down? What do you do when it seems that you've been sidelined with injury and a lack of motivation? How do you keep going when there are things like death in the family that makes you question the very reason you exist in the first place? That's where your friends come into play.

It took me many years to understand the concept that "A friend in need is a friend indeed!" I didn't understand that until I was a grown man. I have been sidelined from my passion and love of running for nearly 2 weeks. I expected my MFP friends to sort of let me fade into the dust. I expected to be let alone to go quietly into that silent night. I expected all of my other running buddies to say "Sucks to be him, let's find someone else to focus our energy on!" However, that didn't happen.

My friends came through for me in the truest ways possible. Certainly, they sent the well wishes. However, they did something I never expected: They cared. They challenged me to stay the course and keep being the BAWSS that I had relentlessly encouraged others to be. They reminded me that quitting was not an option and that I have not earned the right to be discouraged. They kept running, lifting weights, and doing their various programs. When they were done, they doubled back, gave me a shoulder to lean on, and said "Brother, now it's time for us to cross this finish line together!"

A friend in need is a friend indeed. My bravado, empathy, and motivation of others has never once been false. With this injury, I got a taste of my own medicine and it was not bitter. It was not the hemlock in the chalise of empty words and false hopes. It was the sweetest, most invigorating drink I have ever had the privilege of putting to my palate.

I couldn't ask for a better team. I couldn't ask for better friends than those I have found here on MFP. Geography may separate us, but the love and passion that we put into all that we do shines through everyday under the umbrella of a common goal: To be healthy and fit, and to make sure that those we encounter do the same. All I can say is thank you, because I absolutely do not have the words...

Ode to The Run

Wake up! Wake up! The time is nigh!

Look up! Look up! Into the sky

So creamy and blue, it's about high noon

I anticipate and long to be running soon

I lace up my shoes and grab all my gear

It's almost that time for my run to come near

What joy to be had as I revel with glee

As i anticipate the run overwhelming me

I bolt out the door and my what a rush

My heart begins racing, my doubts are all hushed

The earth breathes a sigh as I take it all in

I am one with the world... a child of the wind

I dash past my fears and surpass every stress

The road welcomes me wholly, my destiny's manifest

The sun smiles so warmly upon my face

And the clouds slowly frolick leaving trails of white lace

The run becomes timeless, its purpose secure

I move deftly and swiftly, of that I am sure

And should there be an obstacle to suddenly occur

I'll dart cleanly past it, no doubt, as a blur

Smell that! Smell that! It's a love for the trail

We run for ourselves and thusly prevail

Thinking of running before it's begun

I miss you my dear... my ode to the run!

 

Fat Flapping Flippantly in The Fierce Wind

I remember when I first attempted running. I don’t consider it a serious attempt because it was long before I found C25K, but it was an attempt nonetheless. There I was, in 90 degree heat in the middle of the summer, trying my best to run. I had gotten near the local park and I saw this Geo Metro approaching with what appeared to be 4 considerably obese women inside of it. As they passed they yelled out, “Look at fat boy trying to run!” Wow! Talk about the pot calling the kettle black, but I digress. It affected me to the point that I gave up running and it would be another year before I tried any form of exercise again.

As I have browsed the forums, I have seen many people whose situations were similar to mine. They get negativity from home or while they are out and it destroys what little confidence they had mustered up to get out there in the first place. When I first started the C25K program, I always ran with music and a pair of dark sunglasses. I didn’t wear glasses and listen to the music because it was sunny outside and I enjoyed keeping pace, I did it so that I wouldn’t be able to hear any hurtful, baseless comments coming my way. I wore the glasses so that I wouldn’t have to look into the eyes of people I passed, for fear they would laugh at my protruding gut and my heavy breathing as I stumbled past them. However, as I continued to run, I noticed a few things along my journey.

Running is a challenging task in and of itself when you don’t have the proper tools to usher you into such a beautiful and relaxing exercise. Worrying about how you look while doing it certainly exacerbates any related issues you may have with it. However, as I continued to run I noticed that people were noticing me less. Some would blow their horns and I would look their way and they began to yell out encouragement or simply give thumbs up! Interestingly, as I continued to run, I cared less and less about what people thought. I always think to myself, sure, go ahead and laugh now, but when the summer comes and I’m running this path shirtless, I wonder who will be laughing then! It not only sculpts your body into a force to be reckoned with, but it also begins to shape your mind. You begin to find your own self worth and you also begin to find a renewed confidence unlike any other.

You see, with running you have to push yourself. Your greatest enemy is your own mind. My good MFP friend StreetNameJim said it best when he started running, “I can’t believe how much of a head game this is.” Everything is in your mind. Your ability, your endurance, your perception is all there. As you continue to run, you eventually get to a point where all of these things become a harmonious “ONE.” Once that is achieved, you find that suddenly it’s not about the time, the pace, who is watching, and what they are thinking. You suddenly realize that it’s all about you. It’s all about your challenge and your personal goal. That, I argue, is the point when you find your true ability. I don’t call it limitation because I don’t believe there are any when running. Certainly, there are physical considerations, but the mind is an endless sea of personal possibility, challenge, and accomplishment. Coaches will tell you to get your head in the game when playing soccer, football, tennis, swimming, or any other sport out there. This approach has its benefits, but for the purposes of running, I dare say get your head out of the game. Own your space and own your time. You will then transcend from a mere runner, to one bad mother (hush yo mouth!).

No matter what sport or exercise you do, never worry about who sees you. Think about the last time you saw someone exercising and you said, “Wow! I would love to be in that person’s shoes. I would love to be able to do what they do while making it seem so easy doing it.” That, my friends, is what people are thinking when they are watching you. People complained that they feel like a freak show. There is no freak show, but if you  must put on a show, make sure it’s the best damned show they will ever see. Good luck in whatever you do to achieve your fitness goals and remember to do it like a BAWSS!!!