They always say that. Every magazine in the checkout line, every sideboard ad on your phone, all the links at the bottom of the story you're trying to focus on reading. Promises to drop the ten pounds you put on over the past six weeks in six days of clean eating, or cleansing. It is tough to resist and I always fall for it.
Not the magazines. I don't touch them. I avert my eyes and curse myself for allowing my gaze to linger. No, I don't touch the magazines. And I usually don't click on the ad or take any of these tempting actions.
No, I use my own notebooks and the notes function on my phone to make my big plans and try to identify clear goals and objectives in each phase of my life. Each phase of life gets some attention, but the physical phase typically gets the most. It may seem obvious why I usually start there. Appearance is the most easily identified thing about a person, to most people. But success in the physical phase of life isn't all about appearance to me.
I just finished my first run of the year, a slow 50 minute effort over 4 miles. I'm pretty happy that on January 1st I got out and ran for close to an hour in my neighborhood. But it was more than just the opportunity for me to personally start the year of right. A lot more!
I woke to 60+ degree weather this morning, and after two cups of coffee to help clear my head and shake the effects of perhaps one too many the night before (hey, it was New Years Eve!) I decided I needed to get out and start the year right.
My son appeared just as I was making this decision. He's 13 and an early riser like me on most mornings. I asked if he wanted to come with me, and he said no. As I prepared to head out, strapping my Garmin watch on my wrist, the heart monitor around my chest, and lacing up my shoes, he changed his mind and said he'd go with me.
He is not typically much of a runner but wants to build his strength and endurance and I was very happy he decided to join me.
I have struggled over the past couple of years with joint pain, particularly in my knees, ankles and feet. This pain is the result of many factors, including an inflammatory response to clinical trial drugs. But it's clear to me that my age (46 1/2 as of today!) and the pounding of the years of a fairly active life are contributors as well.
This past month I completed the St. Jude 1/2 marathon. It hurt, I will admit. But I felt pretty happy to complete it considering what I've been through. Since the first of December I've been focusing mostly on swimming, building strength and endurance that way.
I also completed the Marine Corps Combat Fitness Test (CFT) and earned a 1st class score of 261/300. I hadn't attempted the CFT in at least 2 years due to all my medical woes; I have spend a lot of the past 2 years on limited duty which restricted my physical activity.
In October it looked as though I would be medically discharged from the Marine Corps. But I resisted this, and strived to complete the standards and end my service as a Marine officer on my feet, the way I came in. So I had to prepare for the CFT in 10 weeks.
There are 3 events to the CFT, including a 35# ammunition can overhead lift (100 repetitions in 2 minutes for 100 points). The ammo can lift is not much of a problem for me, even considering the shoulder pain and inflammation I've had. The other two events are not as easy. First, a 880m (1/2) mi run in combat boots and utility trousers. For me to pass this event I'd need to run it under 4:20. Under normal circumstances, and in the past, this wouldn't be too bad or difficult for me to achieve. But these days, keeping an 8 minute mile pace is not so easy, even in running shoes and shorts. I was able to cover the distance in 3:40 seconds.
The last event is a shuttle run consisting of short sprints, low and high crawling, dragging a partner and then a fireman's carry of the partner, carrying ammunition cans and throwing a mock grenade. I completed this in plenty of time to meet the standard. It is a good thing I'm 46, though, since the standards are graduated for age!
We took it easy this morning on the run, my son and me. There are a couple significant hills where you can gain a hundred feet in elevation fairly quickly. It was good running weather. The sky was a gray January overcast and the air was misty. We followed the road and on the side there is a path that resembles more of a path at certain points. It would seem a dreary day to the casual observer but when you're running on January 1st in Virginia it is a pleasant surprise.
My son kept wanting to pass me and run ahead. I didn't stop him. He has grown a bit lately shooting up a couple inches, feet outgrowing shoes at the rapid rate, appetite off the charts and unpredictable. I noted how he swung his arms in font of him from side to side a bit too much. I counseled him on his breathing and speed as we approached the first hill. He didn't seem to mind listening but didn't really change much.
The hill is about four tenths of a mile long, and as we got closer to the top he sped ahead of me. There were others out today, walking dogs mostly. A few other eager runners as well going the opposite direction. He made it to the top before me, stopped, and put his hands over his head.
"I have a cramp," he said. I nodded. "It will work it's way out," I responded.
We eased up, not that we were going fast. I usually call 10:00-11:00 mile pace "running" these days, when it's really barely moving. The point is to keep going, and make steady progress. I know that over time the average pace will quicken if I stay with it. But this is where I am right now, and I'm okay with it.
I explained to him that by running with your hands low and keeping your upper body from swaying back and forth you can prevent cramping. We weren't going fast enough or hard enough to incite cramps, or far enough for dehydration to be a factor.
"I can't do that." he said. "I know you can, don't say you can't. You can do anything." I told him.
He stuck it out. As we approached the end of the run I suggested we stop. "No," he said. "I want to finish it."
We made it four miles, the goal of the run, and stopped to walk.
As we walked home through our neighborhood I congratulated him. "Great job," I told him. "I'm proud of you for sticking with it and not quitting. This is a great way to start the new year!"
A neighbor emerging from his house overheard me and echoed my statement. "A great way to start the new year!"
Not the magazines. I don't touch them. I avert my eyes and curse myself for allowing my gaze to linger. No, I don't touch the magazines. And I usually don't click on the ad or take any of these tempting actions.
No, I use my own notebooks and the notes function on my phone to make my big plans and try to identify clear goals and objectives in each phase of my life. Each phase of life gets some attention, but the physical phase typically gets the most. It may seem obvious why I usually start there. Appearance is the most easily identified thing about a person, to most people. But success in the physical phase of life isn't all about appearance to me.
I just finished my first run of the year, a slow 50 minute effort over 4 miles. I'm pretty happy that on January 1st I got out and ran for close to an hour in my neighborhood. But it was more than just the opportunity for me to personally start the year of right. A lot more!
I woke to 60+ degree weather this morning, and after two cups of coffee to help clear my head and shake the effects of perhaps one too many the night before (hey, it was New Years Eve!) I decided I needed to get out and start the year right.
My son appeared just as I was making this decision. He's 13 and an early riser like me on most mornings. I asked if he wanted to come with me, and he said no. As I prepared to head out, strapping my Garmin watch on my wrist, the heart monitor around my chest, and lacing up my shoes, he changed his mind and said he'd go with me.
He is not typically much of a runner but wants to build his strength and endurance and I was very happy he decided to join me.
I have struggled over the past couple of years with joint pain, particularly in my knees, ankles and feet. This pain is the result of many factors, including an inflammatory response to clinical trial drugs. But it's clear to me that my age (46 1/2 as of today!) and the pounding of the years of a fairly active life are contributors as well.
This past month I completed the St. Jude 1/2 marathon. It hurt, I will admit. But I felt pretty happy to complete it considering what I've been through. Since the first of December I've been focusing mostly on swimming, building strength and endurance that way.
I also completed the Marine Corps Combat Fitness Test (CFT) and earned a 1st class score of 261/300. I hadn't attempted the CFT in at least 2 years due to all my medical woes; I have spend a lot of the past 2 years on limited duty which restricted my physical activity.
In October it looked as though I would be medically discharged from the Marine Corps. But I resisted this, and strived to complete the standards and end my service as a Marine officer on my feet, the way I came in. So I had to prepare for the CFT in 10 weeks.
There are 3 events to the CFT, including a 35# ammunition can overhead lift (100 repetitions in 2 minutes for 100 points). The ammo can lift is not much of a problem for me, even considering the shoulder pain and inflammation I've had. The other two events are not as easy. First, a 880m (1/2) mi run in combat boots and utility trousers. For me to pass this event I'd need to run it under 4:20. Under normal circumstances, and in the past, this wouldn't be too bad or difficult for me to achieve. But these days, keeping an 8 minute mile pace is not so easy, even in running shoes and shorts. I was able to cover the distance in 3:40 seconds.
The last event is a shuttle run consisting of short sprints, low and high crawling, dragging a partner and then a fireman's carry of the partner, carrying ammunition cans and throwing a mock grenade. I completed this in plenty of time to meet the standard. It is a good thing I'm 46, though, since the standards are graduated for age!
We took it easy this morning on the run, my son and me. There are a couple significant hills where you can gain a hundred feet in elevation fairly quickly. It was good running weather. The sky was a gray January overcast and the air was misty. We followed the road and on the side there is a path that resembles more of a path at certain points. It would seem a dreary day to the casual observer but when you're running on January 1st in Virginia it is a pleasant surprise.
My son kept wanting to pass me and run ahead. I didn't stop him. He has grown a bit lately shooting up a couple inches, feet outgrowing shoes at the rapid rate, appetite off the charts and unpredictable. I noted how he swung his arms in font of him from side to side a bit too much. I counseled him on his breathing and speed as we approached the first hill. He didn't seem to mind listening but didn't really change much.
The hill is about four tenths of a mile long, and as we got closer to the top he sped ahead of me. There were others out today, walking dogs mostly. A few other eager runners as well going the opposite direction. He made it to the top before me, stopped, and put his hands over his head.
"I have a cramp," he said. I nodded. "It will work it's way out," I responded.
We eased up, not that we were going fast. I usually call 10:00-11:00 mile pace "running" these days, when it's really barely moving. The point is to keep going, and make steady progress. I know that over time the average pace will quicken if I stay with it. But this is where I am right now, and I'm okay with it.
I explained to him that by running with your hands low and keeping your upper body from swaying back and forth you can prevent cramping. We weren't going fast enough or hard enough to incite cramps, or far enough for dehydration to be a factor.
"I can't do that." he said. "I know you can, don't say you can't. You can do anything." I told him.
He stuck it out. As we approached the end of the run I suggested we stop. "No," he said. "I want to finish it."
We made it four miles, the goal of the run, and stopped to walk.
As we walked home through our neighborhood I congratulated him. "Great job," I told him. "I'm proud of you for sticking with it and not quitting. This is a great way to start the new year!"
A neighbor emerging from his house overheard me and echoed my statement. "A great way to start the new year!"
No comments:
Post a Comment