Slippery People

Good lord - I'm a fucking mess. 

Eclipse day did not go without errors, not that the sun or the moon had a thing to do with them. I think. 

Hours before, I did my daily visit to the gym. Workout was not a problem. Showering was not a problem. 

Post shower???   Problem. 

I'll set the scene. 

Now, when I shower (or sauna) I either have shower shoes on or dry my feet upon my exit. This other guy - built as he is - doesn't. Didn't. And I didn't notice. 

He was in the sauna while I was in the shower. By the time I had gotten out, so had he and he was doing something in front of the sink and mirrors. I went to my locker to get my potions, lotions and cremes. A man's skin needs to be moisturized and hydrated and SPF'd dontcha know. 

While I went there, he went into the shower. Blobby did what he always does and made his to the mirror / sink area - wrapped only in a towel.  ....not that that has any bearing on the story, but I thought I'd give you all a visual in your head. 

Had I looked down, I'd have seen where the guy had been was wet. No - not wet. Sopping. I don't know if he just splashed in the sink, or if he was just dripping sweat from the sauna - or both. Seriously, it was like nine square feet of wet - slick wet. 

I know this now after the fact. 

As I approached said sink, my dry feet were no longer dry. I hit the sweat / water mixture (let's hope that's all it was) and I slipped. 

Not just slipped but skidded, if you will. Lost balance. I was going down. I was trying to avoid hitting the sink (somehow) and I did (somehow). Unfortunately, above the sink is a metal shelf where I would have placed my toiletries. 

I cracked my head on the left corner of said shelf. 

Somewhere circling my head were stars or birds, as they do in cartoonland. 

I regained my composure somewhat quickly, but it felt like forever. I looked and saw the gouge, but no blood, though I knew it was coming. And it did. 

I went to dress, then came back - carefully and with shoes on - and cleaned the wound and (now) blood. But it would take pressure for the drive home where I could get antibiotic cream and a steri-strip. 

Out walking later that evening, 710 told me that our neighbor Tish asked what happened to my head. I missed that, as her husband and I were talking eclipse. I need to come up with a good story - not the actual one. That seems little fun to me. 

I think Blobby is gonna have a new scar. It's ok. Chicks. Dig. Scars. 

Song by: Talking Heads

a Good Run of Bad Luck

Exercise devices might be the death of me. 

It seems I'm a highly competitive person.............with myself. Probably with others, to a point, but probably in an unhealthy way with myself.  ....and yes, I get the irony. 

Naturally, there is the tracking of my running during training, races or just running. Distance. Pace. Splits. Blah x 3. While I don't really spreadsheet it, I'm familiar enough with my distances or races and previous times to know if I've done better or not. 

But both Apple's Fitness app and Under Armour's May My Run app have challenges built into them. They pop up and Blobby feels the need, even if not consciously, to meet or best said challenge. 

Apples are monthly. Though they give you little rewards like your 2nd grade teacher did with gold stars. "You ran a 5k today!".   I know. I was there. 

Or "you've closed your rings 45 days in a row!". 

But I get challenges like 'Exercise x times in 30 days to "win".  To be clear, you win nothing - not tangible anyways. 

For January 2024, it's this. 

Exercise at least 87 minutes 14 times during the month. 

....and I'm irked because I'm not going to be able to do it in 14 days, like I did with some other 14 day challenge in December.  Yeah, I'll make it in 31 days, but.......in a way, I've already lost.  

When I get to 14, that grey outline will turn some colour.   Oooooh. But it's a virtual pat-on-the-back. 

I can say I don't need their virtual motivation, but..........clearly I do. Or crave it, again, in an unhealthy way. 

BUT........concurrently, Map My Run has TWO challenges going on.  One 90 days long, one for the full year. Both I'm internally committed to best both well before their respective deadlines. 

Technically, I have 45 miles at the time of this writing. Honestly, I'd like to make 200 before February, let alone March 31st, but that's not gonna happen. 

And more technicality - it only records two workouts per day. So if I do some active dog walks - and I do - it won't really record them, so I do have a lot lot more than 45 miles. They don't care if you run or walk, just that you move - though not on elliptical or bike. 

...and I have 72.32 km under my belt in the first 10 days of the month. I can hopefully close this 1,024 thing by mid-summer, assuming I have not big injuries. 

BTW, this doesn't even include my gym app where I have goals and tracking taking place. None of these are even close to each other in what a goal would look like, and all use their own apps to track. Not all appls will work concurrently, so I'm not always tracking everything all the time - knowing I'm shortchanging myself on one or all of these. 

And while you think I'm a freak for this, in that last challenge, I'm in 3,182nd place.  The leader has 476.4 kms already to her name.  I have zero idea where I stack up.  I might be 3,182nd out of 89,000.  Or out of 3,191.  I'm too lazy to scroll down to see. 

Physically I think these challenge are good for me overall. Mentally, it's taxing. I mean, I don't think about it a lot, but I know it's there each time I head to the gym or out for a run.   "Must. Make. Goal" rums through my grey matter. 

Somedays it sucks being me.  .....and not in that good way. 

Song by: Clint Black

the Waiting

I started back at the gym 15 months ago (or so). Yes, it was weight related, but mostly because I caught sight of myself in a bathroom mirror bending over and just saw gut. Honestly, I don't think anyone else would have thought a thing of it.  Me? I was horrified. 

In terms of the BMI chart, for my height, I should not exceed 185.  I was 208. 

Honestly, I hid it well enough under clothes, but I knew. And I'm not so sure the clothes truly hid anything, but I tell myself they did. 

As we age our metabolism changes, and I found it not so easy to get back into shape, let alone lose weight. My eating habits, while so much better, were still not great. They're better now, but I'm never gonna be that guy who watches what he eats very carefully. 

The gym and running have helped with the weight. It's taking longer than I wanted, but you know: persistence. 

15 months ago I thought "two pounds every month is doable" and in a year I can lose the 23 lbs I needed. 

My plans and my reality did not match up. Losing was harder than it seemed. But even on day one of the gym, I decided I would weigh myself only once per month and not obsess about it. I have stuck to that tactic, and my word. It's been mentally freeing. 

15 months in - and I finally broke 190. I'm in the 180s. Barely, but I'm there. 

While I always hope I lose more than I do, two days ago, I felt pretty good before my weigh-in and felt I would be in the 180s - which I probably haven't in the last decade. 

188.5.

I'll take it. Only 3.5 more to go. But honestly, now I expect that to take the rest of this year.  ....and I'm good with that. 

Song by: Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers

Bedtime Story

Honestly, I got nothing. 

I'm just tired. Possibly still blue, though trying to break out of that. But tomorrow is almost here - the end of the week, for what that's worth. 

My gym crush is back on my gym schedule, so.......yay. We actually chatted about his future, as he's finishing his residency at the end of June. His Fellowship will be elsewhere - shame......for me. 

He has no ties to the area - no girlfriend or wife, he said. He didn't say he didn't have a boyfriend. Or he was just telling me he was straight without telling me he was straight. 

I wasn't looking to marry him. But he's pretty to look at........at least for the next month. 

Ok, off to bed. Gym time comes early. 

Song by:  Madonna

Crush

I know the last posts have been downers - I get it. 

Unfortunately, I do not have any words of wisdom or humour today. Work was exhausting yesterday, and it didn't help I slept 90 minutes later than I normally do. I ended up with zero morning time, or breakfast. It was up and straight to the gym. 

That said, a 30 minute run had me focused, so my blahs weren't too blah. And my gym crush was there, so there's that. So, that was an ok hour to spend. 

I don't think he pulled up his shirt for me, but who can say for sure? 

And yes, I'm creepy. Sue me. 

I don't know my run for Saturday as of yet. I thought they'd have told us the distance and route. I know we're done with the big runs. So I'm guessing the others will be 6-8 miles? All doable.  ....and who a year ago would have thought I'd ever say that? 

This evening - if things go as planned - I will be meeting a fellow blogger for a drink. Maybe two. 

No, I won't say who. Not now. 

I can't remember the last blogger I met. Or how long ago. Years, I'm guessing. Well, you know, Covid and all. Oddly, there's still a few I'd like to meet, today being one of them. 

I just have to get through work today. My plans for getting stuff done has already been thwarted by a "water intrusion" in an administrative area. Rehoming people, even temporarily, is what I get to do today. I think this makes it the fifth flooding event since I've taken this job, not even three years ago. 

Anyhoo.........here is to blogger meeting time!  More on that in the future.  Probably. 

Song by: Jimmy Eat World

Weight of Love

Well......I made it. 

One year, back at the gym. 

What I didn't make was my weight goal. I mean, at least not yet. 

Yes, I've made strides.....here and there, but I'm not consistent in certain ways. 

Going to the gym?  Consistent. In 2023, I have not set foot in there nine times in 90-ish days. But, on six of those days, I was out with my running "friends".  

I rarely miss more than 2-3 times per month before that. Even on vacation, I find a way to work out. 

But this run thing has fucked things up too, in more than one way. 

Injuries for sure. That has thwarted my workout for sure. I spend the majority of my gym time lately doing nothing but stretching and cardio. My lifting portion has gone to the birds. I'm so focused on running - or getting back to it - that I only lift maybe once per week. 

I gotta change that. 

The other thwart has been running itself. I've been so hyper-focused on it, I don't leave room for core work, which I desperately need. As soon as I can conquer my injuries, I'll readjust. But it might be time for a trainer. 

I don't need this 2x / week thing that everyone seems to do. I need someone to map out for me a number of exercise routines that rotate to get me where I wanna go. Is that so much to ask? 

Perhaps it is. 

So my weight bounces back between 192-194 lately. So I'm down 14-16 lbs, depending on the day, or my sugar intake.  Without lifting, I'm not building muscle, which weighs more, but with not running at my previous level, I'm not burning as much either. 

I am really hopeing to change that. While getting to 185 might seem unobtainable, I'd be ok just breaking 190. Or at least I tell myself that. 

This was me at the 6 month mark. 

This is me yesterday. 

Don't worry, I stripped down - leg band and all - before hopping on the scale. It seemingly didn't matter that much. 

So, I'm keeping up - and keeping the membership. I'm invested in this, so, I'll keep plugging away to see what happens. 

Song by: the Black Keys

Like a Stone

Six months. 

That's how long I've been back at the gym, albeit a new one from the last 5-year-go-round. 

Unlike last time, I have tried to keep my posts to a minimum, but in my mind (a dangerous place to be) upon joining, I thought, "oh, I could give an update every half year". 

This is it. 

Save vacation and / or being out of town, I go to the gym daily. Even if staying at hotel, I hit their gyms as well. At first, I was "only" going six days per week, but I found a way to make Mondays work - and it's cardio only. No lifting. That way I can still shower and make my every Monday 07:00 meeting. 

It is unfortunate that with exercise I'm either all in or all out. Either way is excessive, and while I see it im myself and understand it, I am unwilling to change behaviour and have made peace with going daily. I think it has helped me from doubling my anti-depressant, which I considered doing. 

I've come to enjoy music again - and get it listen to it for 60-75 minutes per day. I've stopped forwarding music. Bad or good, I listen to everything. 

My goal is / was, to lose 22 lbs and to tone up. It's the vanity thing. Not the Vanity thing. I don't make such a pretty mess on my dress. But like Vanity, I do like seven inches or more. 

I had a timeline for my goal too:  IMMEDIATELY.  

 .....but that didn't happen.  Bother. 

Actually, I knew it wouldn't.  Age. Metabolism. Diet - or lack there of, all play a part in thwarting me.  It was gonna be a slog, and it is. 

To make myself not crazy (hush!), I opted to only weigh myself once per month. The 27th of each month, since I started on the 26th or 27th of March.  I did miss my August weigh-in since I was on vacation. 

710 says not to obsess on the weight thing. I get it - and yet I do, to a degree. In 30 days, I expect (read: want) to see some measurable progress, but that doesn't always happen.  By July I had lost 14 pounds - or 'a stone' as the Brits might say.  As of the other day, it was back to 12. 

I attribute two things to this:  vacation - where I didn't eat that much differently, I did drink daily. The second part was the foot thing.  The boot. The no running. The little walking I even did on vacation. 

But a lot of it comes down to the running. Or not running, as the case may be. 

It's been since mid-August since I really ran. I tried thrice since, but the thrice-time, had an adverse reaction, so I'm back to resting and resetting.  Still, a lot of that 14 came off when I really found my stride. As you can see, I've taken to rowing, which has a lot less impact on my foot and ankle. 

This is where I obsess about my weight and feel a little defeated (yeah yeah, I know what you're gonna say, but I do) when I gained back 2 pounds. Granted, I was wearing a pair of underwear when I weighed myself, but even I can't pass them off as lead-lined panties. 

I suppose some of this could be muscle, which allegedly weighs more than fat.  ALLEGEDLY. 

Defeated I am not. I still have a goal. Goals. 

The other is definition: mainly of chest and arms. It's coming. Not as quickly as it did in 2009, but I'm seeing it. S-l-o-w-l-y.  Abs are another thing - altogether (you know what to do!).  Blobby is not made for a 6-pack, unless it is beer.  Flatter is better, the abs, not the beer. Showing any abdominal muscles is something else that probably won't be achieved in my lifetime. 

I think I like the gym?  Sometimes with compulsion comes blurred lines. I need the routine, and it soothes me, but it's not the same as 'like', though they are necessarily exclusive to each other. 

So, while you get tales from the gym - hopefully amusing ones - there might not be an update like this for 6 more months.  .....though maybe something thrown in for my year-end post.  One never knows. 

On a final note - why not a before and during (it's not after...........not yet) shot. 

I'm not even sucking it in during the last picture.  I think it (ha. "it" = me!) looks a little better. Yes, 12 down (10 to go!) and some firming up here and there. I won't be joining any body building tournaments or Only Fans anytime soon (read: at all), but who know - March 2023, I might be where I want. 

Song by: Audioslave  (though thanks to Morty, for the last 20 yrs, I call them Audiosalve)

Road to Nowhere

While in quest to be thinner and more desirable to no one, I went back to "spinning". 

I have a bike, though it needs some decent amount of tune-up before it would even be street legal. But having Shep makes it harder for 710 and I to go out biking. Maybe next year we will try. 

In the meantime, I got on a stationary bike on Sunday and rode 10 miles. 

The gym has Lifecycles. In any gym I've been to, I have never been a fan. For the last few weeks I've been trying their recumbent bikes, but you know, it's just blah. Maybe I'm getting a workout, but I don't feel it. 

But my current gym has six Peloton bikes in a separate room. I've never been on one and honestly, I had no desire to pay for a Peleoon membership on top of my gym one. In the 4.5 months I've been there I have seen two people use them. 

My sister said, "maybe it's part of your membership already".  Maybe. As it turns out it was / is - and she's the one who had to tell me because she did the research. 

On a running break day, I went, "eh, why not".  So I did. 

Honestly, it took me as long to set up the account and pair my audio as it took to do my first ride. I kept trying to pair my phone and not my headphones, so it kept failing.  DUH. 

Then there was the workout / instructor selection.  I limited it to a 30 minute ride - as it had been a while - and tried to find a decent play list.  Out of frustration, I just selected one. 

The workout was in German.

My friends Jon and Meredity laughed and laughed at this.  Rightfully so. 

You'd think I would have stopped it and found something more up my alley than the warm tones of the Germanic people.  You'd think wrong. 

It turns if you're somewhat intelligent and speak little to no German, you can still figure it all out. I could see that during the ride my resistance should be at X and my speed should be at Y. At worst, come the end of the workout, I can count from 5 to 1 in another language. 

The ride was doable and sweaty. 30 minutes was a good intro and I think I can progress fro there on m non-running days. It's good to mix it up, I think. 

During my ride, it was difficult not to think back to spin classes and how much better some of the instructors - especially my fave, Andy.  I had such a man-crush on him, I'd have made-out* with him in a heartbeat. But he really was the hardest and best instructor at my former gym. 

I kid you not, when I walk out of the Peloton room and there doing fucking chin-ups is Andy. 

I'd say ' what are the odds ' but number of gyms divided by number of men in the 216 with the open earlier than x amount of gyms by y number of hours probably takes it to a high probability. 

I'd say we 'caught up', but I'm 99.97% sure he has not idea what my name is. He is nice and pleasant to look at, and talk to, but whatever lust I had for him no longer existed.  

It's called 'growth' people! Sheesh!

*'made-out' is for the PG-13 crowd, FYI. 

Song by: Talking Heads

Die Young Stay Pretty

There is a certain irony about going back to the gym.  

I mean: What's the end game?  It still all ends with entropy and death. 

My genetics, on both sides, could have me living well into my 90s.  I have stated before, and no doubt will again, I have no desire to do that. 

My next colonoscopy will be my last. In my mind, I have had my last pneumovax. Ditto with tetanus. I suppose I will get flu shots until my mid-60s. Then I'll let nature take its course. 

So what is it with this obsession to be in better shape and healthier? 

Granted, I go to the gym the same time every day. Monday - Friday I am inarguably the oldest person at said gym.......and I'm talking maybe by 30 years. As I leave, there is a guy who comes in who might be older - but in reality, we are probably the same age.  

On weekends, I've only stumbled upon one older gentleman. Honestly, I might be the second oldest member. Period.  Yes, there are multiple hours unaccounted for, but really, what are the odds any of those dudes being older? 

You'd think with such a younger crowd there'd be a more attractive sort.  I'm not saying there aren't, but extremely few to whom I find attractive. Again, I see the same 10 people in the morning and not many different on the weekend days. I can think of three who even remotely float my boat. And only one of them is regular - and lately he's not. Bastard.

I normally do not strike up conversations at the gym. I selected this gym because at the time I knew no one who went there (as it turns out I know two who are members).  I'm not rude, but I'm not there to be social. My last gym was. Too much so. 

I can count on one hand how many conversations I've had, and two of them are with someone with whom I work. One other was semi work-related, as he is in residency where I work. One was a dental student who struck up a convo only to have it morph how he works really hard, but how his testosterone is really high and that is "always horny". 

I had lots of questions and comments, yet I have lots of brains and the want of keeping all my teeth, so I said nothing. He is nice to look at though. 

The last conversation, again, I did not initiate. And it was in the locker room, which is always awkward. 

The much younger man (late 20s?)  asked if I was a runner, as he had seen the shoes I had - which are for runners. I still don't identify as one, but he caught me at a weak moment, as I had just had a personal best that I thought I could never achieve, so I engaged a little as I tried to get ready to shower.  He mentioned he ran for his college (I'm guessing track) and I had mentioned high school running for me.  .....and then........

"Oh wow! There were probably no portable music devices back then!". 

My outside chuckled.  My inside said "fuck. you."   .....but I said it only in my head and with a smile on my face.  I wondered, as I showered, if down the road it would be one of those THWIT things of which Spo wrote about weeks back. I have them all the time, and I kind of hope this "kid" does too.....eventually. 

Honestly, I don't think my gym time comes down to living longer, and yes, inadvertently I'm becoming (?) healthier. But to be truthful, it comes down to vanity.  Not Vanity.  She dead. 

Again - to what end. It's not like I'm single or dating. I just caught myself in the mirror one day this last winter and didn't like what I saw. Simple as that. Vanity. 

The second irony of this gym thing is:  because of my vanity, I'll end up living longer. 

Bother. 

Song by: Blondie

Stumble

There are repercussions to working out.  You'd think weight loss and / or muscle gain, but not.  You're wrong. 

It's mostly injuries. 

Clearly, I'm prone to those - gym related or not. I have had my share of shoulder impingements, bilateral epicondylitis and such. Of course, non-gym related injuries have kept me from the gym - my back, due to a fall, a fractured hand from a fall, a torn MCL......from a fall.  You get the idea. 

I've gone into the version of this weightlifting portion very cautiously. 

Yes, I know starting off by benching an empty weight bar looks stupid, but it's 25 lbs and it's awkward. You have to, and should, know how it feels as it's much about balance and control as it is about lifting and adding weight.  Of course, over the months I have added that weigh and continue to do so cautiously.  

Curls are different and not as heavy. They can't be, as my elbow will flare up from time to time. 

My aforementioned impingement keeps me from doing above the shoulder things - but swinging kettle bells was never going to be my thing. And overhead presses seems like a young man's game anyway - so that's not happening either. 

But the injuries of which I alluded to were ones from running. 

Oh sure, you're thinking blisters (though I have one -  from indoor running!) to shin splints or some kind of cramp. Those are all possibilities but you'd be wrong. 

Bruised knuckles. 

Yes, I get I'm a neanderthal and am a knuckle dragger, but that's not it either. 

I'm sitting at work the other day wondering my my hand hurt and look down to see my left index and middle finger bruised. Sure, the latter one you could say gets worked out regularly when I'm annoyed or angry - but that's not it either. 

It's the treadmill itself. Not exclusively. I have something to do with it as well. 

Hand placement when you run seems to be important. I try to be cognizant of my posture I'm not a fan of holding my arms higher to keep my hands higher. But, if I don't, inadvertently, I occasionally hit my hand against those protruding arms.  Well, at least my left hand, 

I notice this increasing as I increase both time on the treadmill itself and the pace at which I run. 

The faster the tread, the faster my feet.  Makes sense. 

But I find myself being closer to the top / front of the mill itself. To go back too far at 5.5 mph could be spell disaster for this guy. 

One of my former biggest fears was flipping over the handlebars of my bike and breaking my teeth. Yeah - run me over with a car or break both legs - fine. But not the teeth.  Since I don't ride much anymore is why it is not on the top of my fear list anymore. 

However...............it has now been replaced by stumbling on the treadmill, falling forward and yes, breaking my teeth on the plastic panel in front of the screen. 

These are thing of which I think whilst running. At least once per run. 

No - don't try to talk to me about that red clippy thing that if it comes disconnected from you will stop the equipment.  Sure it will..............but I'm guessing by the time that happens, the damage is already done. If that comes off me, chances are, I'm already down. 

So yesterday's run was not really different, but I was much more aware of my hands and while I increased my speed, I only remember hitting my hand once. 

So...............progress. 

Song by: R.E.M. 

Run

It's the small things that matter.  

Unless you're talking about penises, then you're just being nice or lying. 

I am trying not to do too many gym updates here, and I still have three weeks before I can weigh myself, though I'm 99.4% sure I haven't lost the weight of which I've wanted.  Yet. 

Regardless of 'day' (arm, chest, leg, shoulder, back) I always start out with cardio. And sometimes end with it too. Weekdays are different than weekends, as I don't have much time during the former, due to having not been born independently wealthy.  (Thanks for gambling it all away, grandpa!)

When I made it back to the gym at the end of March, I started on a bike, the moved to a treadmill, and then to the elliptical. But I'm back to the treadmill. 

I could have said 'running', but when I got back on that thing, I'm not even sure I could have passed a Silver Sneakers and she'd have lap me somewhere between Orange Jullius and Things Remembered. 

For context, I "ran" cross-country in high school. Being 6'2" and all of 110 lbs, there weren't a lot of sport options open to me (and my parents made me join something!).  

For the record, I hated every step I took during those four years. Every. Single. One. I never experienced a runner's high. I had no focus of any kind. Or determination. I had a 14 year old developed brain.  Maybe. While I'm sure I "improved" during my time, it seemed negligible.   

My first recorded run after being back at the gym (thanks Life Fitness app) had me at a 17:50 minute mile. This was based on if I had actually finished a mile. Which I didn't. 

I'd walk. I'd run. Back to walk. I'd find any excuse to not run walk. I've spoken here about the right music - and sure that's a thing, or I made it one. Like my 14 yo self I still had no focus. At some point I abandoned running and went totally elliptical. Maybe that helped me. Maybe not. 

When we were in Chicago, I used the hotel gym and went back to running. I've been doing it since. 

I really took steps to be successful - mainly not running for more than 20 minutes. Using a pace which I could keep and not get defeated. And yes, the right music. 

Over the course of the last month though, things have really changed.  ...and for the better. 

While spending the morning a few weeks back with Morty, before everyone (read: anyone) else was up, I mentioned something about working out - and he asked if I was running. This could be a dangerous territory with this man - as he's successfully completed a marathon on every continent (yes, you read that correctly).  

Internally (well externally too) my answer was embarrassingly semi-apologetic:  "yes, but only on the treadmill."  His response, while brief  seemingly in passing and non-coach-y, actually would end up meaning a lot to me.  "If your feet are leaving the ground, you're running". 

Yes, I've fallen enough times that my feet leave the ground where running is not involved, but I got the point. 

In the last month, I've carried his words daily. It's the little things. They have big impacts. 

But in the last month, I've gone from 20 minute runs daily, to 30 minute runs on work days and as of yesterday, a 60 minute run.

In the last month, I've increased my speed from 3 mph to 4.9.  And that first 17:50 miles has been shaved to 13:12. 

Those stops and starts, or walks, I had been doing are gone. The music now plays as it will and I don't break stride or slow down for any reason. 

In yoga, when I was doing that all the time, I learned the beauty of the Drishti. It's the practice of focused gaze, used as a means of developing concentration. It helped me immensely with balancing poses. I currently use it now - not looking at the treadmill with its data, time left or graphics of me running through the woods or on a beach.  I pick a spot on the wall in front of me and that is where my gaze is - for 30-60 minutes. Never varying.  

It has made all the difference. 

Music is still important. But less so.  You know I'm not a big fan of streaming services, but I plead guilty to now using Apple Music.  I pick one song, and it kind of sticks with that genre the rest of the time. Much of it not from my liberry. It helps me keep the pace without ever needing to slow down or scroll through the phone for the 'next song'.  For that, you'll be getting a few My Music Monday selections coming your way. 

Now, I have no desire or intention to run a marathon. Yet my brain works this way: while I run, using the previous day's data, I start calculating at x miles per hour, if I could maintain that for 26.2 miles, how long it would take me to finish.  I then shake my head and try to get out it. 

My takeaway is what my 14-17 year old self couldn't do - and what I couldn't do 3 months ago - is focus. That  is key to this. I never enjoyed running because I didn't know how to be successful at it, or at least how to (re)define success.  I'm doing that now. I think.  

And I'm enjoying it - except for the first seven minutes. I find, like clockwork, it takes me that long to get the groove and past some physical, but probably more mental, hump. I actually look forward to the run.  I mean, we'll see how long that lasts, but so far so good. 

Also?  I've never sweated so much in my life. 

Before I used to take Spin, I really had never truly sweated through clothes before. Spin got me to sweat. But now, it's up like 17 levels. There are times in the locker room I struggle to get my shirt off.  And lying on a weight bench like this?  Ick. Cold and clammy. 

So, even if I don't lose all the weight I want, I'm getting something out at my time at the gym. 

Song by: Snow Patrol

Fifty Miles of Elbow Room

Just an update on my ever, and somewhat rapid, decaying body.

The beginning of the end was when I fell in 2010. The lower back incident that plagued me for months and many dollars of physical therapy.

Of course, there was my shoulder for 2012. More PT.

Somewhere in after that was my hand and my on-going battle with tendinitis of my right foot added with it morphing into plantar fascitits. I'm almost forgetting  a bout with my sprained kneed and of course my temporary hearing loss and on-going tinnitus.

And buried in posts here and there were hints of a sore elbow that was making it hard to do weight lifting.

Sheesh. I'm a frickin' mess.

Said elbow is taking center stage these days. I've had to stop doing any kind of curls, which are making my biceps look even more girly than they had been. Actually, I halted them a long time ago and it took months for the pain to dissipate.

But about a month ago, seemingly out of nowhere, the pain was back and for no good reason. There was no trauma. There was certainly no weight lifting.

I was trying to ride out the pain, but it became too pervasive for me to squash down. A typical day is a 3 on the pain scale, though in the evenings, it seems to increase to a 5 or 6. That I can't figure out. I tried to make a doc appointment only to be told they could get me in on March 26th!!!!!!

Fuck that.

A day or two ago my pain level started at an 8 and stayed there. While I have a fairly high tolerance for pain, this was wearing on me.

Yesterday, I called and got a same day appointment. Sure, I had to travel to a farther facility, but it was worth it.

And of course, I started to formulate scenarios: arthritis. carpal tunnel. One morning I even lay awake, figuring it was another bout of bone cancer and that I would lose my arm. It sucks being me.

Ruckiry (not Jon's boss), carpal tunnel can't happen in the elbow. So that was ruled out. The x-ray shows no signs of arthritis - so that is good. Oh, and no tumor or anything.

After some manipulation of my arms and looking at range of motion - or lack thereof - and gauging the pain at each exercise, I was diagnosed with Lateral Epicondylitis.......or as you might know it:

Tennis Elbow.

Forget the fact that I don't play tennis. Or rarely. And by rarely, nothing in the last decade.

And wouldn't you know it's my left hand! My eating, writing and 'batin' hand - which in theory could be why it is so sore. But nah.........those aren't the reasons. If that were the reason, I'd have had 'tennis elbow' since I was like 15.  You know, because I was um always writing and using kitchen utensils to eat.

I'm getting put on a prescription anti-inflammatory (yay, more pills to take!). I will have to wear an elbow brace for a bit. And I have a script for another round of physical therapy.  Yay me.

There are alternate treatments not covered by insurance, and ironically are cheaper than PT, considering our deductible has yet paid down, since this is the first medical expense for 2015.

But the weird-ass treatments include taking my blood, spinning off the plasma and injecting that plasma into my elbow muscles and tendons. Or the other one is injecting some kind of glucose serum into the same area. Then there is something with electronic pulses into the tendon. All running about a grand for three treatments.

While they sound promising, there doesn't seem to be enough data to support successful treatment. I'll probably just start going to PT next week.  {sigh}

If my father and grandmother were any indication - only another 43 more years to go.

Shoot me.



Song by: Iris DeMent

Razor

Shortly before xmas, Blobby had a fight with his razor - and lost.

It wasn't a fair fight, I was blind-sided. The damn double bladed bastard was creeping around in the dark of my gym bag when I reached in to pull out my iPod Shuffle. I had two very nice and what I though to be quite deep double-bladed cuts on my hand. Ones that you could see quite clearly once the blood was washed away.

Fool me once.

"Santa", taking pity on such a poor soul, put a razor holder under the tree - and it had my name on it. If only that poor soul had taken it out of the package, but his razor in it and then slipped the entire contents into his gym bag.

If only.

Fool me twice happened yesterday.

After a solid leg workout and then yoga, it was time to shower. My razor was already in my locker, so I can't blame Hermione's bottomless beaded gym bag from hiding the razor. Nope it was right there for all to see. All but one.

Because of the massive blood loss, things are hazy now. I don't know how I grabbed for my towel and razor, but it's safe to say, once again, the razor won.  Big time.

It's safe to say I felt the pain before I knew anything had happened. I knew I cut myself and worse than last time, but that's it. I had a chance to look at the finger before the blood appeared - and part of my finger nail was gone and I cut behind where that had once been. Ripped right off my body.

The above picture does not do the damage justice. I could not get the iPhone to focus on the finger. It kept wanting to focus on whatever was past the finger. Bullocks.

I should mention, at this point at the gym, I was buck-ass nekkid.  I should mention, at this point in the gym, I "might have" dropped an f-bomb loud enough for the weight room to hear.

The poor Asian kid sitting on a bench a few feet away from me, snapped his head up at the sound of my vulgar language. He was probably trying to translate while understanding the severity of my tone and putting it all together.

By this time there was blood. Lots and lots and lots of blood. As gross as it sounds, I put my finger in my mouth to minimize the Amityville Horror scene. And oddly enough, I didn't want to get the white gym towel all soaked in blood, so I didn't use it to put pressure on the wound.

But I had to figure out how to get a band-aid from the front desk, while wearing nothing and knowing getting clothes back on would mean not only massive blood loss, but stained stained clothes.

Ruckiry (not Jon's boss), a guy I kind of / sort of know from working out was about to go out onto the floor. I axed Bruno (hand to g-d, that is his name) if he could go get me a band-aid - as I stood there naked before him. He was a prince and came back with two. By now, the blood was covering most of my hand, no matter what I did.

I thanked Bruno (I love that name - though I only heard of it in porn star naming rights and from a German Shepard who lived next door to us. Oh and Bruno Mars.) profusely, as others just stood around - including gym staff - and I sauntered off to the sink to wash my hand.

I applied pressure with tissues to no avail. I thought, "fuck it". I dressed the wound and went off to shower, thinking I could just make it home for antibiotic cream and new Curad. Even covered. the blood soaked through the adhesive. Even covered, the hot water made me whimper in pain.

My discomfort was little compared to the guy across from me in the shower who was seemingly very very shy. I would find out in a minute when he did turn around to see his peen encased in a chastity device. I kid you not. I wasn't really looking, but it was hard not to notice.

It's fair to say I've seen just about everything at this gym now - except actual sex.  ...and lord knows this guy wasn't having it.

Clearly he got over his shyness to a point and just walked out into the common area not covering himself up one little bit. At least, for a moment, it stopped me thinking about my finger. Apparently in the shower, I didn't even notice the big pad lock around his neck. I saw that as he was blow drying his hair!

Kids!

Anyways, I went through two band-aids before the bleeding slowed down. I washed the cut (again), applied ointment and redressed the cut. I've seem to have clotted, though I don't see a Downward Facing Dog in my near future, as it will just open up the wound. I should be able to lift.

Here's another iffy pic for you.

The Apple device has been trained to focus on furry animals instead. Again, it would not focus on the finger for you to see the chunk taken out of my nail and finger.

The bandage makes it hard to use the touchpad on my Mac. I really don't know how amputees do it! I'm wondering if I'll automatically get my handicapped hang-tag just sent to me or if I'll have to go apply for it.

Oh the humanity!!!!

...and it might go without saying. The razor and its case are now in my gym bag, for safety!



Song by: Foo Fighters

One Step Forward

I got my fitbit for the holidays last year and usually I am pretty good about wearing it most of my waking hours.

Actually, I feel cheated out of recorded steps as I walk to and from the bathroom when I wake up and am nekkid, so not tracking my steps.

As I mentioned yesterday, I no longer wear it to bed for my sleep activity. It's a great concept, but eh - they say you can't change what you don't measure.  I don't know how measuring my sleep will help me change that aspect of me.

But it took me four full months to actually hit or exceed the set goals for the week.

Yes, I hit one of them on a daily basis, but rarely three and never for an entire week.  Work and weather are the culprits that get in the way.  And yes, it is easy to blame them, but I'm not walking outside for 10,000 steps when it's 18 degrees.  Being chained to a desk most of the days isn't a great way to hit your goals either.

BUT  - it has started to warm up and I'm getting out more with the dog.  On last Saturday, I did almost 19,000 steps.  fitbit called me an 'overachiever'.   Maybe it's just me, but I take that as a slam.  Usually the nerds are called that - and yes, I am a nerd, I get that, but......ouch.

It doesn't hurt that a few weeks ago I returned to the gym.  Yes, I had been doing yoga twice a week, but I'm up to four times per week currently - two of those classes being 90 minutes long.  Now yoga doesn't really get me many steps or floors climbed, but it gets me out - and I purposefully start parking farther away from the gym.

I've also started lifting again. Just curls. I don't think my shoulder is where it needs to be for benching anything and I've come to the realization that it might never be there again.

As much as I'd like to have a more defined body, I have gotten to the place in my head where I am ok with that might not actually happen.  Still, I'm leaps and bounds over where I've ever been, so that might just end up being my peace.

This is not to say I've given up.

No, I'm just mentally resetting expectations.  In certain ways I miss lifting, in others, I don't.  I'd like to be able to get back "there", but I'm an old man in deteriorating body - what can be done until Oscar Goldman is my boss and has extra money in his budget?

I feel better about being back at the gym.  It feels right.



Song by:  Paul Young

the Weight

At first I was going to say I haven't been forthcoming, but that's not quite true. I have not quite lied either.

My gym time is down to zero and has been for a few months.

Part has clearly been my lack of time spent in town, as I have been on the road constantly. Part has to do with Petey - that I'm not up and out as early when it comes to walks, breakfast and belly rubs for him. He makes me want to stay at home.

Part still has to do with my impingement syndrome and my tendinitis.

I fully cop to the fact that I've done nothing about either.

That said, I'm still doing yoga, both on Sundays and in my hotel rooms, and am adding Saturday to the mix this upcoming weekend.  But without doing cardio and weightlifting, my maladies have not hurt me all that much. I tend to forget about them.

As for that Saturday yoga, David and I were late for it last week, so we went to his gym to workout. 13 minutes into my cardio and I knew I was fucked. All the pain I had not been experiencing the last few months in my left foot was back with a vengeance.  David offered to let me stop, but by then I had six minutes to finish my routine.

Then it was on to weights.  Ouch.

Yeah, all that I had pain I didn't have (well, for the most part) was back.  ....and four days later I'm still in pain, so I'm at least tackling one problem: my shoulder.

Yes, I start physical therapy on Friday. Hopefully I can regain my mobility and get to a place where I can lift again.

After that, I'll focus on the foot.  The custom orthodics I was supposed to get turned out not to be covered by insurance and was to set me back $600.  Of course, now I'm thinking I should have shelled out for it. Maybe after the first of the year.

BUT - do you want to know the joke of only doing yoga?   Do ya?

I currently weigh less than I have in almost two decades.  I did a weigh-in at a client site, fully dressed and with steel toed shoes on.  I was 182.  About 18 months ago I was 183.5 - and that was nekkid and I was working out 4-5 times a week.

The key is, don't work out and eat like crap and lose weight.  Ok, I don't seem to have a much muscle as I once had and that I was working towards, but maybe with my new found weight, I can build on that and just be more defined, or seemingly more defined.

That's what I'm going to work off of - right after I finish PT.


Song by:  the Band

Naked to the Eye

People's behaviour in the gym shower is just interesting.  Not always in a good way, mind you, but it makes me chuckle to a degree.

There are the guys who swing to and fro, nekkid as the day they were born going from locker to shower and back again. I might be one of these guys. Not because I have to show-off, mostly because those towels aren't built for a waist like mine. Sure, that towel will wrap around and tuck-in, until I take two steps, then all is lost.

Since it is all of 45 steps from shower to my locker, why even bother?  No worries, I can strategically place a towel in front of me while taking my stroll.

But there are the guys who go nekkid as in a show-off manner. Or seemingly. Maybe they just have a better body image and exude more confidence.

I'm not that guy.

Of course, there are the guys who are shyer but like to "look" at guys. If they exist, most are covert about it. I'm assuming. But there are those few guys who really have no shame. They exist in every locker room.

One guy stands out for me. Two really.

One at the old Larkins Hall at Ohio State. He did nothing but sit in the sauna and "stretch"- right on the floor of the sauna - as if he ever worked out, let alone warmed up, a day in his life. Anyone who ever worked out there knew of this guy - no matter what time you went to the gym. It was creepy. You'd think with all the time he spent in the sauna he'd have sweat away his fat, even if he never lifted a weight. But no, he was portly. ....and I'm being nice.

The second guy is at my current gym. I don't know him, but I know he's gay. That's fine. But he looks a tad bit creepy....and he looks at me.  The other day, he made a beeline to the locker room and shower when he thought I was headed that way.  I wasn't. I mean, I went to shave my head before I showered, so he was done before I went to bathe.  Crisis averted.

Ruckiry (not Jon's boss), I only run into him every few Saturdays, depending on what time I get my fat ass to the gym.

Last Saturday though, I came across a new one. The guy had two towels.  One wrapped around his waist, one he carried.  He came to the shower area, hung one towel up and kept the towel....for the entire time.  Face towards the wall (we don't have individual shower stalls), he washed what he could, and might have opened his towel, washed and closed back up.

That is modesty.

But from a physics perspective, I was perplexed. When my towel is bone dry (hehehehe....I said 'bone'), it doesn't stay on. Add 20lbs of water absorbing directly into said towel, all the while more is cascading onto it, how does it stay on??

After he turned off the water, he walked over to his non-wet towel, dried off what he could and then wrapped dry towel over the wet one then dropped the wet towel from underneath.  Pretty sneaky sis!

Of course my first thought was:  'why bother? Shower at home.'

Actually that was my second thought.  My first thought was a clip from Scrubs from years ago....that always made me laugh.






Song by:  Mary Chapin Carpenter

We Can Work It Out

I don't get it - it's almost the end of January and there are still hangers-on at the gym. Shouldn't all of these people just have dropped off the face of the gym-earth?  Sure they still have to pay their monthly fee, but it's a small price to keep the floor open for the rest of us.

Actually, the number of people who are at the gym at 05:30 has risen, but I don't see that many new faces. Maybe those folks who are here and there are now just here.

It's problematic - for me. I mean, DUH!

The weight room is more crowded and I find myself standing waiting for certain weights. But the bigger issue is the shower.

The locker room has seven shower heads. At 07:00, I always get my shower and there is rarely anyone else in there. The other day, all seven were taken. Sure, I was at my station, but what if...............what if.........    The horror.

On the plus side, in that shower were two of the hotter more attractive of our membership. One is newer and pretty to look at.  The other guy has been around for a year. Very attractive and a great workout routine.  He's one of these guys that I see each time I'm at the gym and we acknowledge each other with a nod when coming and going.  Of course, now it is far too late to actually say anything or introduce ourselves.

And as 2012 goes, I'm not spending all my time in the weight room. I'm getting nowhere there. I mean, I"m sure I am, but not my final destination - not Final Destination VII.

Actually I think I have just plateaued on my routine. I've gone back to the Matrix machines - or what used to be Nautilus. I'm working different muscles and working out a different way and hoping that helps. Mentally it was tough to leave the big boy room. I feel it took me so long to earn my place there, that I have to give it up.

I'm still go in and start my day there - marking my territory as it were, and to silently nod to handsome man, but I'm no longer there for an hour.

If it doesn't pay off - body-wise - then I'll have wasted some good viewing time.

I guess there's always the shower.



Song by:  the Beatles

King of Pain

I have dubbed myself, Sir Loin.

Nah, like Collis B. Tumor, I'm in pain all day, all night (sorry, that's a joke for 5 people and five people only).  Hopefully not for long.

You remember when I used to write all about my gym & exercise exploits?  Notice how I haven't been for the last few months?  I kind of fell off of the 4-5 times a week visits to the gym.  It went down to more like 4-5 times per month.  ....and then there was last month.

You might have seen the video I made of my November travels for work.  I wasn't home a heck of a lot, so I didn't go to the gym a heck of a lot.  And by heck of a lot, I mean:  at all.

No frets.  I'm back.  But at what price?  Oddly enough,  I not only maintained my weight, but lost some - at  which I am not complaining.  Maybe it was all muscle that I lost and not fat.

True, my Spin and complete cardio routine went to hell in April with my tendinitis.  I am still suffering, but maybe not quite as much.  Don't scold but I'm waiting until first of the year to see someone.  It's tied to my benefit package and my deductible.  So that is Pain #1.

Pain #2 would be what I'm experiencing these last few days.  I dove right back into my weight lifting routine, and my ab routine. Still no cardio. And now I have big body ache routine going on.  I can't cough, sneeze or laugh, as it hurts my abdominal muscles to do so.  My back aches, but in a good using muscles kind of way.  My upper arms ache.  My chest hurts, but not in that having an MI kind of way.  Just in that too many bench presses kind of way.

Pain #3 is a real pain.  I experienced this a year or so back but it had not really bothered me for a bit.  It's back with full-force (no Lisa Lisa or Cult Jam):  my left shoulder and elbow.  Cable pulls hurt it.  Squats makes me tear up.  Curls are a major hassle.  I should probably get that looked at too - but at the first of the year.  Hey!  It's only 28 days away.  29 with the New Year's holiday.

Now for the worst kind of Pain:  #4.  Backsliding

I can't lift as much as I used to.  That is to be expected.  I have to earn that back and I totally get that.  But most importantly, I had stopped comparing myself to other guys at the gym.  Their routine, their goals, their definition was theirs and not mine.  I finally stopped feeling bad about myself and how I didn't look and tempered my unrealistic expectations.  Alas, they are all back.  Every single one of the neurosis:  the envy, the doubt, the feeling I'm in 3rd grade and can't climb the fucking rope.

I don't doubt I'll get past that.  I'm putting the art of yoga to work for me:  this is my practice!  No one else's.  Still, it jabbed at me most of the week at the gym.  I didn't much like the guy curling next to me and he started at 105 lbs.....in each hand, and increased the weight from there.  FUCK YOU!   You're making us all look bad.   I don't care how attractive you are.

Oh the pain.  The pain.



Song by:  Alanis Morissette

Committed

I have been a gym slacker the last month.  I know, right?

Between me being gone at least half the month (in business days on business trips), the July 4th holiday, getting drunk with visiting friends in Columbus and then a week of being sick,  I think I made it to the gym - honest to g-d - maybe four times. Maybe.

This is quite a difference of going a minimum of four times per week, some of those being twice a day - or six workouts per week.

It's a slippery slope, because not only was I not going, I began to not care that I wasn't going (did that come out right?).  And then I actually became very ok with not going.

Not going, not getting up at 05:00 to be there by 05:30 was a nice break in routine.  Sleeping in - well, for me - was a treat.    ....and I didn't feel guilty in the least.

But then I started feeling guilty about not feeling guilty.

And last weekend, at a dinner we went to down the street, our friends Marty and Joe asked why they hadn't seen me at the gym.  Even though, in my head, I listed the reasons I did at the beginning of this post, I didn't really find them legit enough to say aloud.   I asked the same of another guest, Keith, why I hadn't seen him for months and months and months.   He just up and quit and was done with it.

I kind of felt vindicated by his reaction and then a little horrified by mine.

So yesterday, I was back at 05:30.  I need to get myself back on track.

Now the crowd at that time is always the same crowd, but it's not a talky bunch.  I see these guys and gals daily but know very few of them and talk to even less.  But I can't tell you how many people did talk to me - well at me:  "where have you been?"   Apparently I was missed.


Mind you, the cute cute cute young doctor was not one of the ones who said that.  But he did do a double take along with his normal nod to me.  He always nods.  It's been a year,  and it's too late now to actually talk and introduce ourselves.  That'd just be weird.

And on the way out,  Andy, my spin instructor, did a double take on his way in.  Apparently in the month I've been "off" he is now a kettle bell instructor too.  ....and an orthodontist.  The man just keeps going deeper and deeper into sadist territory.

So do I.  I'm back at the gym.  Break's over!



Song by:  Jenny & Johnny

Hurts So Bad

I guess it was bound to happen. Someone got hurt in the gym yesterday - and no, it wasn't me.

We were finishing our hour of Spin and a woman ran up from the back of the class to Andy the instructor and said something in a frantic voice.

Andy jumped off his bike and hurried back to the room, and even though the place is entirely mirrored, I couldn't quite see the issue. Partially because other had gotten off their bikes, partially because we ride with minimal amount of lighting. It was also a completely full class, so my line of sight wasn't the best.

I started to get off my bike to see if I could help, but I already saw two people around the woman who could assist better - one a doctor and one a nurse practitioner. Another class member had gone downstairs to alert a full-time staff member.

The woman wasn't passed out or in coronary distress or anything like that, she clearly did something to her foot, ankle or leg - while Spinning.

The best I could come up with is that if she was wearing clips (and I am not sure she was) and they became disengaged during our heavy resistance ride. Or if she were strapped in, that her foot slipped out and somehow twisted.

The thing was, during this time, we were sitting, not standing and I just don't know how she did it. Maybe she re-injured an existing malady. Either way, they had to carry her out of the room and into the hallway.

My favourite thing about the entire event, an older Spin instructor came rushing into the room to see if he could assist.....................with our cool down. LOLLLLLLLLLL.

Yes, Andy was busy helping his student, but not only was our cool down the least important thing going, we had also pretty much done our own anyway - not that anyone was focused on that.

I hit the showers afterwards and when I dressed and was exiting the locker room, I almost ran into Andy. I mock pleaded with him "don't hurt me" - insinuating that his tough class had injured the lady. He at least laughed. I mean, it could have gone either way.

After Andy passed, I saw the stretcher.

At some point EMS was called and they were upstairs working on her. I'm sure getting her down the stairs wasn't going to be easy - for any of them. I did go outside to my car where I saw the EMS vehicle you see in the title image. I do hope she's alright though.

And speaking of injury - I don't have one from my personal training sessions. Mostly because they haven't begun. My trainer has not returned from his surgery. So far he's a week and a half later than expected. I hope his procedure didn't go awry. At some point I'll need him, though as of today, no financial transactions have taken place, so in that respect I'm good.

But I do expect to be gym-injured in the near future. No EMS is to be required. Hopefully.



Song by: Linda Ronstadt