I’ve been scarce around here for the past few months, and for a number of reasons. I’ve decided that in order to succeed at my goals, I need to be less scarce.

One of the reasons I’ve been scarce is that I let myself be bothered by some of the feedback I received. I’m not a fitness expert — not by any means. In fact, I’m a raw novice at this. I’m making plenty of mistakes along the way, and I’ve been writing about these mistakes. Sometimes I don’t even recognize them as mistakes at the time.

Because I’m being so forthcoming about the choices I’m making, I leave myself open for a lot of criticism. For some of you, it’s frustrating to watch me do the same damn thing over and over again, especially when I should know better. Who needs a Hostess Sno-Ball? It’s obvious I know better than to choose them, and yet I choose them anyhow.

So you get frustrated with me, and I get frustrated with your frustration, and then I go away and sulk for a while.

This isn’t an issue at Get Rich Slowly because I’m much much further along the path to success than I am here. But that wasn’t always the case. Mac can remember a time not so long ago when I was making plenty of dumb financial decisions.

I particularly remember one sunny afternoon as we were driving to a local Independence Day rodeo. I had just come into some cash somehow (a bonus at work?) and was planning all the ways I would spend it. Mac and Pam were flabbergasted. “Weren’t you just complaining about being broke last week?” they asked. I admitted that I had been, but I didn’t see their point.

I’m not like that with money anymore. But I am like that with food and fitness. What that means is that, for my part, Get Fit Slowly is different than Get Rich Slowly. Get Rich Slowly is about the things I’ve learned and the things that I’m learning. It’s largely about things that I’ve found that work.

Get Fit Slowly, on the other hand, is more about finding things that work. See the difference? I don’t have a lot of success with fitness yet. I’m exploring. I’m learning. I’m falling on my face — over and over and over. For some of you, this isn’t entertaining or enlightening. It’s just annoying.

And so, I’ve been silent.

Now, however, I’ve come to the realization that it doesn’t matter if this is annoying to you. I’d like for it to be entertaining and instructive, but what’s important is for me to document my daily progress — or lack of it. This site cannot yet be a direct analog to Get Rich Slowly, but with fitness. I’m not there yet. Neither is Mac. We hope to reach that point someday, but it’s going to take us a while.

We’re going to get fit — slowly.

I think that part of the problem is that I’ve been running in the middle of the day during the kids naps.  So far this week, I’ve been really motivated in terms of both my calorie counting and my exercise and nap time has been the only time that I’ve been able to make the time to workout.  In fact, I’m pretty impressed that I’ve consistently done it during my only free time of the day–that’s not like me at all.

Basically, I can’t tell if I’m still really fatigued from putting my body through something that it’s never been put through before, or if I’m bored with my treadmill workout, or if I need some other type of cardio workout to get me out of this funk.  Some time this weekend, I’m going to get outside and get a run in and see if the wind in my face allows me to go faster and feel better.  I always run faster outside and feel better, so I’ll know something is wrong if this doesn’t work.  Now, the big question is do I want to play golf on Saturday, or go for a run?  I already know the answer…fore!

In fact, the other day, Pam came up to me out of the blue and said, “Hey Mac…I just read in Runner’s World that some research group qualifies you as a runner if you run 50 or more times per year. Are you a runner?”

I responded emphatically with a quick “Absolutely, I’m a runner!” There are two things about this that surprised me. First off, until this year, I never would have even considered wanting to be labeled as a runner. But I have to admit, I’m rather proud of the fact that I’m a runner. At least in some research groups eyes anyway. But I was also very surprised at how quickly and definitively I responded to the question and at how much pride I have in saying that I’m a runner.

A few seconds later, Pam continued…”It says here that you’re a frequent runner if you run over 100 times per year. Are you a frequent runner?”

This time I paused and thought a bit. I don’t really know the answer, so I responded something about how I’m probably flirting with becoming a frequent runner. I’ve kept pretty good records of all my workouts this year, so I could probably go back and count my runs and get a pretty good estimation of how many runs I’ve completed. But that would be, well, a little bit anal retentive. We can’t have that now can we?

Sometimes it takes a little speed bump to see just how much progress you’ve made.  In previous fitness/health improvement attempts, any little setback would totally derail me and I’d give up for years.  In the process, I’d erase any progress that I made and most likely regress further into the pit of obesity.  But not this time.  This little back injury has me yearning to get back into the gym whole-hog.  I NEED to get back on the treadmill and run instead of walk.  I HAVE to get that scale back on the downward trend.  These are feelings that I haven’t dealt with before and they make me very happy.

This morning at the gym, I was able to do some light running.  I did 3, 15-minute cycles of 5 minutes at 4.0 mph, 5 minutes at 5.5 mph, and 5 minutes at 6.0 mph.  My back didn’t hurt, but it did feel awkward.  However, my lungs didn’t feel taxed at all which was a little bit of a surprise to me.  It was the first positive athletic step for me since I hurt my back.

My back injury (and JD’s recent post about his gym habits) has also made me reflect on my current plan of action at the gym.  So once again, when my back is back to 100%, I plan on modifying my weight training regiment.  I’ve said so before, I love the 5X5 program.  I don’t think the exercises are the cause of my back injury so I intend to resume the same exercises that got me results in 1/2 hour 3 times a week.  But I’m not going to focus so much on increasing my weights as quickly as before.  This time, I’m going to go back to the more traditional 3X10 sets of those same exercise with about 80% of the weight I was lifting before.  And I’m not going to increase those weights as often.  Hopefully I’ll still see similar results in my body composition and will decrease the chances of injury.

Speaking of body composition, my weight has remained constant throughout this whole ordeal.  In fact, this morning I went through my closet and pulled out 5 pairs of paints that I shouldn’t be seen wearing.  They ranged in waist size from 34-38 inches.  Yep, that’s right I threw out pants with a 34″ waist size because they were too big for me!  That’s something I haven’t been able to say since 1999, the year I got married.  So now, my waist AND my wardrobe are significantly smaller then they were 12 months ago.  I feel like I’m righting the ship and am getting back in the groove.

Make no mistake: I do not love lifting weights. Sometimes it’s a chore. But it’s a chore I perform dutifully and well. Three mornings a week, I’m at the gym, following my plan. I’m making slow and steady progress. There’s something faintly pleasurable in the work and the routine.

Lately I’ve been asking myself why it is I’m able to follow my weight lifting plan so well, while the other aspects of my fitness have struggled. I think there are several parts to the explanation:

• I have a plan, and I stick to it. After each workout, I come home and I draft a schedule for my next workout. When I go to they gym, I follow the schedule. If something hurts, I back off.
• I came into weight lifting as a novice. (Hell, I’m still a novice.) Other than thinking lifters were meat-heads, I didn’t have any preconceived notions. (And I was wrong about that one!)
• I stay within myself. Partly because I’m afraid of hurting myself, and partly because I simply cannot lift more, I do not push ahead. There are weeks at a time during which I make no progress, but I don’t let it bother me. Over the past six weeks, for example, I’ve done the exact same bicep routine each time I work on my upper body. I haven’t bumped the weight at all. I’m okay with that. I know that eventually my arms will be strong enough to increase resistance. I have time.
• I’m not competing with anyone, not even myself. When I lift weights, it’s all inside. It’s all in my head. I don’t get mad at myself if I have a bad day, and I don’t get cocky if a lift is easy. All I do is focus on my daily plan.

I would love to find a way to apply these principles to the other two aspects of my fitness: aerobic exercise and food. In a way, Sally’s pursuit of self-care relies upon these techniques.

Could I really apply them to other parts of my life? I’ve always been a measurer. (Just last week I talked about tracking my calories again with FitDay, for example.) Could I really do aerobic exercise without measuring every little piece of data? Could I just go run for the sake of running?

I don’t know, but it’s something to think about.

Don’t get me wrong — I do like some vegetables. Corn is great, and so are carrots. I like both peas and asparagus (which are basically the same taste in different packages). I like onions and garlic and potatoes and lettuce and spinach. And…

Well, that’s about it.

I know vegetables are good for me, but for some reason I do not like the way they taste. (Or, in some cases, the texture.)

My number one nemesis is broccoli. Hate the stuff. But it’s not just broccoli. I hate all of the cruciferous vegetables, which is too bad — they’re full of nutrients.

I don’t like string beans, either, though. Or cucumbers or squashes or beets or tomatoes. (I do, however, like all tomato products — it’s just the tomatoes themselves that bug me.)

Because of my problems with vegetables, healthy eating is sometimes a challenge. (Note that I do like most fruits, however. There are some melons I don’t care for, as well as certain drupes, but mostly I’ll eat fruit.)

The question I’ve begun to ask myself is: does it matter that I don’t like these foods? At one time, I didn’t like onions. At one time, I didn’t like clams. At one time, I didn’t like wine. I love all three now. Might it be possible to learn to like beets? Or cabbage? Or — gasp — broccoli?

For the past couple years, Kris has been on a campaign to introduce me to one new vegetable per year. One year it was onions (success!), and another year it was cucumbers (stalemate!), and another it was tomatoes (failure!). On my own, I’ve been trying to force myself to eat despised vegetables in certain social situations. The first time Mac and Pam cooked dinner for us (back in 2000!), they prepared spaghetti squash. Oh, how my heart sank when I saw it — and yet I ate it and did not die.

To some, this aversion to vegetables seems childish. Maybe it is. It doesn’t matter, though, because it’s very very real. Telling me to “grow up an eat your vegetables” is like trying to force a debtor to save. It’s not going to work. The change has to be approached in different ways.

I’d love to hear how other people have learned to overcome food aversions. How did you learn to eat your vegetables? Do you have other foods that you hate? Have you managed to overcome your dislike, even a little? My wife hates legumes, for example, but she’s discovered she likes hummus. It’s a small beginning, but it is a beginning.

How do I begin with broccoli?

Puberty slimmed my figure for a few years, but by the time college rolled around, I was really struggling with my weight. A lot of this was due to inactivity, but as the past year of this blog has aptly demonstrated, most of it was due to poor food choices.

Despite the propensity to fat, I have managed two sustained sessions of weight loss in my life.

Almost vegetarian
During my senior year of college, I took an introductory philosophy course. One of the books we read was Peter Singer’s Animal Liberation. It had a profound effect on me. I gave up meat cold turkey. (Ha!) For six months, I practiced vegetarianism.

At the same time, I took a basketball class. I was by far the worst player in the class, which made me angry. To improve, I would go to the gym every day to shoot free throws and to practice dribbling. I would shoot 100 free throws and spend ten or fifteen minutes just dribbling the ball around the court. This wasn’t much exercise, but it was enough.

By the time I graduated, I was thin and fit. It was great.

Counting calories
My vegetarianism only lasted six months. By the summer after graduation, I was eating fish and chicken. By the fall, I was eating beef and pork. And lots of it. I was no longer exercising, either. I gained back all the weight I had lost, and then some.

During the nineties, my weight hovered around 193 (which seems to be my “set point”, if such a thing does exist — my weight always reverts to 193). In 1997, however, something happened and I found myself at 200 pounds in early May.

Two hundred pounds was a wake-up call. I made two immediate changes. First, I began to exercise daily. Sometimes I just walked for half an hour. Other times I biked for ninety minutes. Initially, this exercise was hard — I was fat, and I hated how I felt while moving. Within a month, though, I recognized that the exercise was giving me new vigor and new appreciation for life.

Meanwhile, I altered my diet. I didn’t actually eat better food, but I did eat less. I found a program for the Mac called Diet Balancer. To this date, it’s the best piece of diet-tracking software I’ve ever used. Entering foods was easy. The interface was unobtrusive. And the program tracked all sorts of stuff. (My friend Kristin recently found the following printout, which shows my daily food consumption six weeks into my diet.)

Six weeks into my diet in 1997

During the summer of 1997, I lost 40 pounds. By exercising daily and religiously tracking my calorie consumption, my weight loss was steady and constant: about 6.7 pounds per month. It was awesome.

Man in motion
During 2008, I’ve again tried to lose weight. I’m proud of my physical activity: I’ve been diligent about weight lifting (and am stronger than I’ve ever been), and I’ve done a fairly good job with my aerobic activity (I tried too hard for the marathon, and I’ve had periods where I’ve been lazy). My diet, however, has remained a problem.

When I whipped my finances into shape, it was important for me to track every penny I spent. This personal accountability kept me honest. Though I’ve made a couple of half-hearted efforts at similar accountability for my food consumption this year, I haven’t stuck with it. I want to change that.

Until the end of 2008, I’m going to be diligent about tracking my caloric intake. I’ll still try to make smart food choices, but my focus will be on meeting target numbers.

For many of you, this probably seems like missing the forest for the trees. It seems a little like that to me, too. But it’s a good way for me to see: Just how much does that piece of cheese cost me? And how about that orange? That can of beans?

This morning’s breakfast

To track my calories, I plan to use FitDay (which has undergone a redesign since I last used it!). Because I’m a spreadsheet kind of guy, I’d love to find one to track certain daily totals. Any suggestions?

As many of you know, the Portland Marathon was held this morning. I spent most of the spring and summer training for the race, suffering a series of injuries, and learning how real runners run. My goal was to run 26.2 miles this morning.

I didn’t do it.

I didn’t walk the race, either.

But I did go to the gym for an hour of upper-body lifting, followed by twenty minutes of intervals on the treadmill, and finishing with some stretching. It felt great.

I know that I’ve done the right thing, foregoing a mediocre race this year for a well-prepared race in 2009. I have a year to get ready, and my physical fitness is already way ahead of where it was when I started this year. (I’m about where I was in late June, I think.)

My legs still give me pain when I run, but it’s mostly minor stuff like shin splints. And because I’m only running twice a week for about three miles, it’s not a big deal. I take a day off when I need to. If the pain gets too bad, I walk, or I stop to stretch. I’m not pushing myself. I’m getting fit slowly.

About time, huh?

Congrats to Mac’s wife, Pam, for running this morning, and to everyone else who participated in the race (or any other marathon this year).

I’ll be on vacation this week, so my posting may be light (or non-existent). Have fun!

But isn’t there always a catch?  Friday I felt a little twinge in my back while squatting.  It wasn’t anything big, but it was definitely there.  I thought it was so minor, that I didn’t even mention in it my Friday blog entry.  But by Friday night, things were definitely taking a turn for the worse.  Every once in a while since then, I receive a sharp pain in my lower back on the right side, just above the back of my hip bone.  It doesn’t radiate down my leg, it’s not directly on my spine, but it definitely doesn’t feel like any muscle pain I’ve ever had before.  It worries me a little bit.

It didn’t help that I had big plans for the weekend and that I didn’t alter them at all.  I rebuilt my chicken coop–hauling 2X4’s and 4X8 sheets of plywood from the truck to the pasture and twisting and turning while sawing them definitely put some stress on my back.  By the end of the day Saturday, I was popping Advil.  Sunday I played golf because I HAD to, finished up my chicken coop and hung with the family–all the while popping more Advil.

Needless to say, I didn’t hit the gym on Monday morning, and I didn’t go again this morning because I know it will hurt.  I need to get in there and see if I can do the elliptical machine or the bike–I know running is out of the question for now.

So now I’ve been injured doing stronglifts 2 times.  Maybe it’s a beginners weightlifting program, or maybe it’s for guys who are young?  Maybe what I need is a remedial weightlifting program?  It’s too bad that I see such great results from a program that really only takes 30-45 minutes 3X a week.  I really like the program.

So what’s next?  I don’t really know.  I’m not going to lift this week.  And if my back isn’t significantly better by Monday, I’ll make a doctor’s appointment.  I really hope it doesn’t come down to that.  In the mean time, I’m going to have to watch what I’m eating more diligently with the hopes that I don’t put on a little bit of weight due to the lack of exercise. I’m also going to have to get back to my personal trainer’s workouts until I’ve dropped some more weight and gained some more strength.  Then I’ll get back on the stronglifts program when my body tells me I’m ready.

Even though the above topics of conversation were great, the topic that I found the most riveting was of course, FOOD!  Here we were, two overweight men sitting down to a decadent meal with two normal weight women.  We all ate relatively the same thing–one drink, one appetizer, one entree, one dessert with coffee.

For this one meal, we all indulged.  And the conversation at one point talked about indulgences.  JD mentioned that he would eat chocolate chip cookies for every meal if he could.  We talked about how healthy food doesn’t taste as good as food that is bad for you.  The ladies frequently mentioned that they automatically budget their food intake and it comes naturally to them.  They never worry about it, they just eat what they need to eat and their weight is relatively stable.  They also mentioned that they view sweets and desserts as a reward, not a necessity.  However,  JD and I really treat unhealthy foods and desserts as staples.  Why is this the case?  I think that JD thinks it’s because of his upbringing, but I’ll let him expound on that.

I think my problem began back in grade school.  We moved cities, I didn’t have too many friends at first, and both my parents worked.  I was shy and I didn’t want to join a new soccer team in a new city and deal with having to make new friends.  I rode my bike to school in the morning, rode it home and spent a lot of time on the couch watching TV and playing video games with my two non-athletic, sedentary friends who lived on my block.  It wasn’t until high school when I had a car, more friends, and an interest in athletics that I became less sedentary.  But by then it was too late.  Habits were ingrained, I was already chubby, and it was a losing battle.

The other thing that really hit home to me during our dinner conversation the other night made me realize the enormity of the battle against food that I’m waging.  Pam asked about what happens when I reach my target weight.  Currently, I’m trying to reduce my caloric intake so that I drop a pound a week.  What happens when I no longer am in a reduction mode, but in a maintenance mode.  Really, there’s no difference between reduction now and maintenance in the future.  I haven’t done the math, but I’m betting my caloric needs now for reduction will be similar to my caloric needs in the future when I weigh less and have less to maintain.

This made me a little sad.  You see, I’m not fighting a battle against food at all but a full on war.  It’s true that every day is a battle.  But over the course of my lifetime, these daily battles qualify as a war.  I’m working on making each battle a little bit easier to win so that they become smaller and smaller each day.  Maybe some day they won’t seem like battles to me and then I can declare myself victorious in the war.  But  the only way this war ends is if I win.  I’ll keep fighting.

I did not eat anything else that afternoon.

In the evening, Kris and I joined Mac and Pam for dinner at a nice restaurant in Salem. Again, because it was my free day, I ordered what I wanted. I had an appetizer of three pork ribs in a sort of soy sauce. (And sampled some of Kris’ salmon fondue.) My entree was “penne diablo”, a pasta dish with crab and pork sausage in a spicy tomato sauce. It wasn’t subtle, but it was tasty. For dessert, I had apple pie and ice cream.

As we ate, Kris and Pam admitted they could not understand the struggles that Mac and I face every day with food. For them, eating sensibly is natural. For us, it is not. Pam asked about my current regimen, eating six small meals a day.

“Do you feel this is sustainable?” she asked. I admitted that I did not.

“Six small meals a day means about 300 calories per meal,” I said. “And it’s difficult for me to find interesting food. Spinach is fine, but I don’t want to eat spinach salads every day. That’s the challenge, I think: to find a way to make lasting changes with food.”

For me, those changes include creating sensible, balanced meals that satisfy my sense of adventure and my craving for food that tastes good. But more than that, I need to learn to eat in moderation. For Kris, one chocolate chip cookie is enough. Not for me. I want three or four — but eight is better.

Discovering this balance is a process, though, and I’m working toward it.

Craig, shucking oysters before book group. That’s me in the background,
taking a picture from a different angle. Photo by Courtney Cronk.

On Sunday, our book group gathered for dinner. We discussed M.F.K. Fisher’s The Gastronomical Me. Fisher was a gourmand, and The Gastronmical Me is a book devoted to her life-long discovery of food and the pleasure food brings. Reading her descriptions of honest wine, honest fish, honest bread, and honest cheese made me really very hungry.

Because I knew in advance we’d be eating well for dinner, I was forced to make a decision: Should I stick to the Body for Life six-small-meals-per-day plan, or should I do something else to prepare for the evening meal? I had no desire to limit myself to only 300 calories.

I chose to eat two small meals for breakfast and lunch, and then nothing between noon and six. This was a conscious choice, though it may not have been the best one. Actually, I did very well, sampling the pancetta-wrapped halibut, trying two oysters (my first two oysters), enjoying the asparagus, and limiting myself to two glasses of wine. (I did very well, that is, except for the bread. I ate too much bread.)

As we discussed the book, I tried to articulate the psychology of eating. “I think there are three types of people,” I said. “There are those for whom food is an experience, a thing to be loved. I’m one of those. For another type of person, food is merely nourishment, a source of calories. And a third type doesn’t notice food at all.”

Those weren’t my exact words, and in retrospect, I’m not making the distinction as clearly as I’d like, but I still believe it. I love food. I love to eat. While it’s true that I eat compulsively, and that this is a very real problem, it’s my love of food that will always make dieting a challenge.

“What you need,” Kris told me the other night (as she’s told me many times before), “is to learn to practice moderation. It’s fine to love food. But you need to do it in a way that makes sense.”

As always, Kris is right. While I continue to exercise on the Body for Life plan (which is going quite well, by the way), I need to think about ways to combine my love of food with a healthy diet in ways that are sustainable. I believe that moderation is going to be key.

On Monday, as I talked about correcting my course, Greenman had an interesting comment:

When a plan goes wrong in the Army, the brass debriefs the participants, calls in some outside experts (that’s me), and produces a “Lessons Learned” report, which informs the next plan. What does your “Lessons Learned” report say, JD?

I’ve thought a lot about this over the past couple days. (And, to an extent, over the past couple months.) Here are five things I’ve learned from my adventures in fitness this year:

Set realistic goals
It’s okay to have big goals, but it’s important to also maintain realistic expectations.

When I decided to get out of debt, I told myself I wanted to pay off $35,000 in five years. That was a big goal, but I believed I could do it. Turns out I beat my goal by almost two years. But if I’d decided I wanted to pay all my debt off in just twelve months, I would have been setting myself up for failure. I wouldn’t have come close to achieving my goal.

Similarly, it’s fine for me to want to run a marathon, and to lose 50 pounds, and to bike across Oregon, but it’s unrealistic to believe I can go from couch potato to doing all of these things in just nine months.

Establish priorities
It’s important to prioritize. By knowing which goals mean the most, and which goals lead naturally to other goals, you can decide what to accomplish first. In my case, I was trying to do too much at once. My attention was scattered. And, as many readers have noted, I was putting the proverbial cart before the proverbial horse.

Now I realize there’s a natural progression to what I want to accomplish.

First, I need to develop good eating habits and build a base of fitness from which I can pursue my other goals. For the next twelve weeks, I intend to follow the Body for Life program to completion. (I cut it short last spring when my attention shifted to other goals.) This should help me learn the behaviors I need to continue improving my health and fitness. It should, in theory, also help me lose weight, another goal along the way.

Having achieved a basic level of strength and fitness, I can spend a few months preparing to run, and then once again tackle marathon training next April, but much better prepared than I was in 2008.

Remember the basics
In his comment on Monday, Greenman suggested I have a sort of emergency backup plan for when things go wrong. “There were no tools in your toolbox for dealing with major interruptions,” he wrote. “There still aren’t. Your plan strikes me as being somewhat inflexible.” He has an excellent point (and one he’s been trying to make for months). The only plan I have now is to keep the fundamentals in mind at all times.

During times of stress, it’s especially important to be mindful of the basics. As with any skill, once you begin exercising (or eating right), it can become second nature. That’s both good and bad. It makes things easier under normal conditions, but it also means we become less mindful about our behavior. We’re doing it out of habit rather than choice. Stress can derail us, and suddenly we find ourselves following our old habits rather than the new.

If you sense yourself losing control, don’t panic — simply force yourself to be more conscious about your choices. If, like me, you have particular books or articles you find inspiring, go back and re-read them. Remind yourself of the core tenets of your program.

Plan to succeed
When I began exercising in March, I planned my exercise sessions. Every night, I would sit down at the kitchen table and review my last couple workouts. Based on my notes, I would then construct a plan for the next morning. This was great. It gave me that outside structure that I crave. (I know this was actually internal structure, but it felt like external structure because it came from Past J.D. and not Present J.D. Yes, I know I’m strange.)

Similarly, my marathon training worked well because I had a plan and I followed it. It was only once I began to deviate from the plan that things got hairy, leading me to injury.

This week, as I’ve returned to the gym (and yes, I’ve gone all four mornings so far), I’ve made a point of planning my workouts the night before. There’s something about these sessions that put me in the proper frame of mind. In fact, I like them so much that I’m going to try something similar with food.

What if on Thursday I was to prepare my meals for Friday? If I have trouble making the right choices in the moment, maybe I can make them in advance. Maybe I can plan to succeed rather than leaving it to chance. (And the whims of my belly.)

Share your progress, but share judiciously
There’s no question that sharing your progress with your friends, family, and folks on the internet can help keep you motivated. But it can also have a negative effect. Share your goals and your overall progress, but unless you need specific advice, keep the details to yourself.

I’m an open person. For the past ten years, my life has pretty much been an open book, available for anyone on the web to comment on and criticize. Constructive criticism can keep me motivated. It can help me spot problems I’m not even aware of. But too much criticism, or the wrong kind of criticism, can actually thwart my aims.

For the next 11-1/2 weeks, as I work through Body for Life, I’ll still share bits and pieces of how things are going, but I’m going to employ a stronger filter than usual. It’s important to me right now that I finish this on my own terms, doing the best I can as who I am right now. I don’t want to get distracted by comments that lead me to self-doubt.

Conclusion
So, there you have them: the five things I feel I’ve learned about fitness over the past six months. They may not be the five things you’d hoped I learned, but they’re the lessons I’ve learned nonetheless.

I want to make it clear that I’m not really disappointed with my progress. I’m down 15 pounds for the year, I’ve run a couple hundred miles, and I’m stronger than I’ve ever been in my life. (My workouts at the gym are basically picking up from where I left off a couple months ago, much to my surprise — I think the ongoing pushups program and stretching regimen helped me to maintain some muscle.)

But, as many of you have noted, at some point I allowed myself to stray from the get fit slowly philosophy. That’s okay, though. I’m not perfect. I’m learning. And as long as I keep a good attitude and continue moving toward my goals, I’m happy.

On Friday, Mac explained why he is fat. For him, it’s because it’s easier to be fat than it is to be a healthy weight. For me, it’s because of two things: I lack innate self-discipline and I have a fear of success.

Earlier this year, I managed to override my normal self-defeating behaviors by focusing on a couple of goals. Goals work for me. They point me in a direction and keep me motivated. They’re not as good as external structure imposed by some sort of authority (think class schedules in high school), but they do the job.

Then things began to fall apart. As has probably been apparent from my posts at Get Fit Slowly, it’s been a rocky two months for me. First I was injured, then my mother was in the hospital for three weeks, and lately I’ve had an inability to work on what’s important. In fact, I’ve been actively choosing things that hurt my health rather than help it.

Last night, I finally confessed to my wife all of the little things I’ve been doing to self-sabotage my life. (And now I’m confessing them to you.) I haven’t been exercising. I’ve been eating too much (yes, including Sno-Balls). I’ve been drinking too much alcohol. I’ve been playing too many computer games.

Kris wasn’t happy (which is understandable), but she agreed to help me get back on track. While she watched, I trashed World of Warcraft from my hard drive. I pulled out Body for Life and made a schedule for the morning. I woke at 6:30 to, got dressed, and went to the gym.

I tried to recreate those successful workouts from March and April. I turned on my iPod and cranked up the high-intensity dance music. I lifted light weights slowly. I focused on form. I worked efficiently, and when I was done I felt great.

On the way home, I made a decision. Rather than scatter my attention right now, trying to pursue several goals at once, I’m going to concentrate on just one. I’m going to do the Body for Life plan from start-to-finish, 12 full weeks, without trying anything else. While I was doing this earlier in the year, I lost ten pounds and felt good about myself. I want to capture that again.

A detail from today’s exercise log. Click for full log.

It’s easier to be sedentary than to make time to exercise every day..  It’s easier to eat at Sonic, Outback, Denny’s, and Taco Bell than it is to shop for and cook healthy food for your family every day.  And it’s definitely easier to go with the flow of the group that is doing these things than to stick to your guns and make the right choices when you’re out of your routine.

This is the situation that I found myself in this past weekend.  Every year for as long as I can remember, the men in my family–my dad, uncles, and cousins–spend a few days on a bird hunting trip in Arizona.  We get up REALLY early, stop at Circle K for coffee and doughnuts (I had a powerbar instead) and hunt until around 11:00.  On the way back to the hotel, we stop at one of those aforementioned restaurants for a VERY healthy meal.  Then, we take a nap, eat dinner at another one of those restaurants, go to bed early and do it all again the next day.  Oh yeah, there’s lots of beer involved  and an occasional trip to DQ for a blizzard.  Of course, there’s no exercise in sight, unless you count walking from the truck to the place where you set up your stool in the field for the morning shoot.

It’s really hard to make good choices when everyone around you is making bad ones.  None of the men in my family are skinny, a few might be considered normal weight, but most of them are overweight or worse.  It’s easy to see where I got my eating habits and body weight issues.  Unfortunately for me, my problems started earlier in life than the people in the generation above me.  This is why it’s so important for me to get my lifestyle under control.  So that my kids see a two healthy weight parents every day for as long as they can remember.  So that they know being inactive is not a choice.  So that they know that eating healthy is very important and something that can be done most of the time instead of only when life cooperates.  These are the things that I must continue to work on and can never give up on.

So, after a summer of moderate exercise, moderate diet control, and lots of time spent away from the house, I have allowed myself to gain a few pounds.  I’m back up to 192 this morning.  Eating and exercise is a struggle for me right now.  I’m allowing myself to make poor choices in both arenas.

We’ve got one more small trip planned for this weekend.  Pam’s running the McKenzie River 50K trail run this weekend.  The whole family is going down to support her.  We’ve got a cute cabin booked for the weekend and then next week, it’s back to school.

I’m looking forward to getting back into the routine of school and kids’ activities that start up again next week.  My diet and exercise habits thrive when we’ve got the daily schedule made up for us in advance.  I’m excited to get down to my goal weight by the new year.

Today after work I went for a run. To save time I left straight from work rather than driving someplace else to run. I decided to head along Pringle Creek to Willamette University  and then run through the campus one time before the students returned to campus. Too late, the students were already back. I stuck to the plan because I haven’t explored the campus much even though it is right next to work. I followed the creek into the heart of campus, where it is artfully incorporated into the landscape. I tried to continue along the river but hit a dead end. Here, I made an about face and ran back the other way. I doubt even the new freshmen made that mistake. As I ran I passed two lion statues guarding the entrance to the theater, the SAE house, and then came across the Martha Springer Botanical Garden.

Continuing, I ran across the artificial turf of the fields, where guys were practicing soccer and then across the pedestrian bridge over busy 12th street. On the other side of the bridge was a  building with fairly modern architecture, with the Japanese flag flying out front. “What the heck is this?,”  I wondered, just as the sign came into view: Japan International University of America. I had no idea there was such a place, let alone in downtown Salem. The path continued on past the Willamette Bearcat softball field and then it ended abruptly in the parking lot. I wouldn’t have minded continuing my run on the street, but the gates were shut and I wasn’t in a fence jumping mood. So , it was another U-turn, back across the bridge and past the tennis courts.

A side walk garden contained very overcrowded and puny irises, which made me think of JD’s wife Kris, who is especially diligent about dividing her irises, and just like that, I was back to my starting point. A 17 minute tour of Willamette University.

To lengthen the run I continued on the Pringle Creek path in the opposite direction, off to High street, passing what I consider to be the most impressive and splendid house in Salem. The local running group often avoids high street because of the hill, but I think the old houses make  it worth the effort. I finished with a loop on the bark path around Bush park including a little path by the stream – a bit of urban trail.

It would have been a very pleasant run indeed, except for one thing: I felt like crap! My legs were like lead and my breathing seemed more labored than usual, particularly given my slow pace for the day. Just a week ago I was elated by my fitness, telling Mac how great I felt, but today I didn’t feel fit at all.    I didn’t feel all that great on Monday either. I just haven’t seemed to have it together this week.

I am reminded that Fitness is a series of peaks and valleys. You can try to  be on your “A-game” all the time, but some days you just don’t have it. Even elite athletes have their ups and downs.  People strive for peak performances, but this may lead to a down slide which defines the peak.    The valleys aren’t exciting like the peaks, but they are part of the journey. We can only strive to make the next peak a little higher and work to keep the current valley from being as low as the last.

The last month has been difficult for me, both mentally and physically. My mother has been in the hospital, I’ve been injured, and I’ve done a poor job of prioritizing fitness. If you think I’ve been whiney here, you should try living in my head!

“You need to go to the gym,” Kris told me Tuesday night after losing patience with my mopiness. “It’ll make you feel better.”

I knew she was right. (She’s always right!) Mental health professionals extol the virtues of exercise as a deterrent for depression. I’ve experienced this in my own life. Yet somehow when I need it most, it’s most difficult for me to do.

So yesterday morning I said “enough is enough” and hauled my ass to the gym for the first time this month. I spent half an hour stretching and then about twenty minutes lifting for the lower body. I also did my first set of pushups in a week. (Yes, I had even dropped my pushup routine. I’ll pick it back up now, though.)

Though this was a modest workout, it felt great. It was also good to have people say, “Hey, I haven’t seen you in a while. It’s good to have you back.” I’m not the most social guy at the gym, so it kind of surprised me that people had noticed my absence.

In the afternoon, I went to physical therapy. Dana put me through a couple of terrible routines (”the frog” sucks big time). Then she examined the IT band. “It’s still tight,” she said. “But it’s getting better. In fact, the right IT band feels tighter than the left today.”

When we were finished, she said, “You can run a little this week. You can run every other day, and no more than five miles at a time. If you have intense pain, though, you need to stop right away.”

Throughout the day, I ate well. I had a sensible breakfast (yogurt and fruit), a sensible lunch (chicken sausage), and a sensible dinner (fish and snow peas). I did snack a little, but I did so consciously. I didn’t just gorge myself on Hostess Sno-Balls!

Things feel like they’re finally moving again. I did more stretching this morning. In a few minutes, I’m going to go for a mile walk, try to run for three miles, and then finish with another mile walk. Afterward, I’ll have something healthy to eat for lunch.

Why is it that I tend to forget the connection between physical activity and mental health? When I’m blue, exercise seems like a chore. But exercise isn’t a chore — it’s a treat.

I’ve powered through, though, on adrenaline and because there’s no other option. My mother is in the hospital and must be cared for. I’ve elected to become a “professional” blogger, and I must write to eat. My in-laws, who were in town last week, must be entertained. And through it all, the normal daily routine must continue.

Something had to give. That something has been exercise. I’ve been to the gym three times in the past three weeks. I’ve done two short sessions of aerobic activity (and one longer session, which I’ll describe later). For a while, I was barely doing any stretching.

For the first few days of this crisis, my diet went well. In a way, it went too well. During the three or four days of most intense stress, I had no appetite. I ate very little. But as soon as the pressure eased, my response was to turn to food. I bought a box of Lucky Charms and ate them over two days. I consoled myself with cookies.

I put a stop to this after only a few days, but then I faced other challenges. While Kris’ parents were in town, we ate out for nearly every meal. I’m getting better at making healthy choices in a restaurant, but after almost a week of that sort of lifestyle, I can really feel the change in my body. I feel bloated and gross.

So, it’s been a rocky couple of weeks, but I don’t feel too bad. I still have the mindset of a guy who wants to get fit, who wants to lose weight. I’ve been sidetracked for a while, but things are settling now. Yesterday morning I made a healthy breakfast. I ate well for lunch, too. (I had leftover restaurant food for dinner.) And I’ve resumed exercising.

Things will be okay.

Biking
Last Saturday morning, I finally had a respite from life. “I should go for a ride,” I said. “But all I really want to do is sleep.”

“Go for a ride,” Kris said, “You’ll feel better.”

It took me a long time to get out the door, but I did it. As I pushed down to pedal away from the house, I heard something fall to the ground. When I went back to look, nothing was there.

I biked north to the Springwater Trail, then into downtown Portland. Bike and foot traffic was thick. Portland’s annual food festival was being held along the waterfront, and I had to weave my way in and out of clusters of folks enjoying the mild summer morning.

At the mid-way point of the ride (about mile ten), I crossed the Steel Bridge to head home. As I did, I passed a group of runners coming from the other direction. My heart ached. It was the 4:20 runners from my marathon training group. My group, the 4:30 group, was somewhere behind them. They were doing the run I’d so looked forward to: the first twenty-mile group run and actually on the marathon course. “Next year,” I told myself. “Next year.”

I hoped to see my friends from 4:30, but our paths didn’t overlap. Instead, I headed home. Crossing the railway tracks in Sellwood, something felt strange on my bike. I looked back to see my rear wheel was twisted and rubbing on the brakes. “Yikes,” I thought. I pedaled three miles to he nearest bike store.

Apparently the sound of something falling to the ground at the start of the trip was actually a spoke popping loose. “We can fix that,” the mechanic told me. I also asked that he fix the left shifter, which works on a sort of “when I feel like it basis”. “That’ll take some time,” he said. He has to order parts, which means it may be a couple weeks before I can use my bike again.

Stretching
Since last Wednesday’s physical therapy appointment, I’ve tried to be better about stretching. “How did things go this week?” my physical therapist asked at the beginning of our session. I told her about Mom and about my hectic schedule and confessed I’d done little stretching. She admonished me to try harder, and I have.

Push-ups
Through this all, I’ve been dogged about completing my steps on the one hundred push-ups program. I completed week three, column two last week, and am working on week four, column two this week. Every day I think, “There’s no way I can do this.” But every day I surprise myself.

Final thoughts
I’ve gained three pounds in the past three weeks. Before all of this started, I weighed 187 and was getting readings of 24% body fat from my scale’s impedance sensor. Now I’m at 190 (with higher readings some days!) and the scale tells me I’m at 28% body fat.

So, here I am, eager to get outside and exercise, but unable to run (by orders of the physical therapist) and unable to bike. What’s a fellow to do? Turns out I can still walk! I took an hour walk yesterday, and I’m contemplating a two-hour walk this morning. An if that isn’t good enough, I can always go to the gym and park myself on a stationary bike for a couple hours. (Actually, the 2.75-mile walk to and from the gym would be perfect.)

Finally, a couple of notes:

• I cancelled my Cycle Oregon registration yesterday. I’m not prepared and my bike is out of commission. Maybe next year.
• I’ve resigned myself that I won’t run the marathon this year, but I still might walk it.
• Meanwhile, as soon as my IT band allows, I’ll begin building a slow, constant core running workout into my life: a couple of short runs during the week, and then maybe 8-12 miles on the weekend.

The past month has been crazy for me. I’m ready for some peace, quiet, and especially some routine.

When we were growing up, we learned a lot about life through stories. Some of these stories, although full of good intentions, didn’t convey the best message. Cinderella and Snow White gave hope to the working-class girl. Jack found his fortune in a handful of magic beans. Rapunzel found redemption when all she loved was lost to the wicked enchantress. In the end, everyone gets what they had been dreaming for and lives happily ever after. (Bah!)

We all know better than that-or do we? Do you find yourself at the mega-mart store, perusing the supplement aisle for the latest and greatest pill that magically melts fat away? How often do you consider starting one of those expensive pre-package food programs?

Truth be told, when we put our hopes into these self-proclaimed miracle weight-loss programs, we’re just kissing frogs. We wish vehemently for a prince who will save us from shopping in the plus-size section and deliver us from cheesecake. We wander from diet to diet and try all the fat burners known to man, hoping that one of these frogs will become that prince, but to no avail. Cinderella wakes up to her iniquitous stepsisters and a shoe that doesn’t fit.

If you want to find guidance in any children’s story, consider the Tortoise and the Hare. The turtle knew that he wasn’t anywhere near as fast as the rabbit. Fortunately, he also knew that speed wasn’t the key to winning the race. The one essential quality he needed to foil the rabbit was perseverance, a quality the hare didn’t possess. All our little shelled friend had to do was put one slow foot in front of the other. He crossed the finish line first and also earned the respect of his friends. As a bonus, he got to enjoy seeing the rabbit throw a complete fit. (He never liked him much in the first place.)

Although there is very little chance that I’ll win unless all the elite runners in the race decide to pop off to the pub for a beer, I’ve still won in my own right. Sometimes you have to redefine winning. Winning isn’t about being first; it’s about coming in at your own speed but knowing you’re far better off than the people who never ran at all. Winning is about getting back onto the path when you’ve strayed from it. Winning is about determination in the face of all those rabbits that laugh at you for being slow.
As you go through your day, think of the turtle and how each small step got him closer to the finish line. Each turtle step is like making one good choice, such as replacing a soda with a glass of water. In and of itself, it won’t make you fit, but if you continue to take a small step every day-a salad with dinner, skipping the fries or just eating slower-it will keep you heading in the right direction.

As for living happily ever after, I know a lot of miserable skinny people. So that part is entirely up to you.

After Saturday morning’s aborted attempt at a sixteen mile run, I was feeling miserable. It wasn’t just that my physical condition was poor — my mental condition had fallen off a cliff.

“We’re going out to eat,” I told Kris on Saturday afternoon. “We’re going to Buster’s barbeque and I’m going to eat whatever I want.”

But we didn’t go to Buster’s. I had a little more sense than that. I did pick up Safeway Chinese food, though, and a package of pre-formed chocolate chip cookies. Kris frowned. “You’re not going to be happy,” she told me.

“I don’t care,” I said.

At home, I ate half the Chinese food and threw the rest away. I made the chocolate chip cookies, but they sucked. I still ate too many (ten? twelve?) but most of those ended up in the trash, too. A waste of time, money, and food. And I still wasn’t in a good mental space.

On Sunday, I had okay food, but too much of it. On Monday and Tuesday, I ate whatever I wanted. Again, portion size was okay, but food choices were poor: donuts, soda, etc.

Meanwhile, I wasn’t exercising. From the end of my marathon training run until Tuesday night, I didn’t stretch, I didn’t bike, I didn’t walk. All I did was Monday morning’s pushup routine.

To top it all off, I didn’t write. I played computer games. I watched videos. I read comic books.

For four days, I turned into a wallowing mass of self-pity.

The whole time I was doing this, I knew that it was a mistake. I was even trying to put brakes on myself, limiting portions, not giving in to the worst of my impulses. But I was still eating compulsively. I was still avoiding exercise. I was still shirking my responsibilities. And all because I felt like my body had betrayed me.

None of these choices were conscious. They were just reflexes. I was doing what I felt like. I was the old J.D.

Fortunately, I woke up Wednesday with a better attitude. I ate a sensible breakfast (oatmeal and berries and a hunk of cheese). I did my pushups and then spent an hour doing my upper body workout at the gym. I got confirmation of my physical therapy appointment (which I’ll go to in a few hours). And then I began to tackle the enormous backlog of work for my web sites. (When I ignore them for a few days, things get out of control!)

In the past, I might not have been able to correct my course once I’d lost my way. This time, I did. But how do I keep from losing my way in the first place? How do I prevent setbacks from moving beyond physical and into the mental realm?

I don’t know.

I’m learning, of course, though slowly. My body actually craves exercise right now. It’s been five days since I did anything aerobic. As soon as I finish typing this, I’m going to get up from my chair, stretch, and then go for a run. I want to be able to tell the physical therapist exactly what my body feels like right now…

For the second Saturday in a row, I had to cut my marathon training run short. The pain in my knee was too intense to continue. Today’s three-mile walk back to the car was excruciating. I had a lot of time to think about my progress, my current physical state, and my goals.

When I started Get Fit Slowly, I did a poor job of motivating myself. I groused a lot about my condition, but I did nothing about it. After a reader scolded me for my inaction (and rightly so), I set some goals for myself. These goals weren’t important in and of themselves, but for what they meant for me: they were a reason for me to get out and exercise.

I’ve been fairly successful at working toward my goals. Things haven’t been perfect, but I’ve been slowly achieving a level of fitness that would allow me to run a marathon or to do a week-long bicycle tour of Oregon.

Now, however, my age and lack of base fitness are beginning to take a toll.

I am 39 years old. I’m not old, but I’m certainly no longer young. My body is not as resilient as it once was. Moreover, I’m starting from a base of almost no fitness: years spent sitting in front of a computer and rarely taking more than 2,000 steps a day.

While my exertions were lighter, my body could handle it. Now, however, it seems to be saying, “Whoa, cowboy — let’s build some muscle first, shall we?” I’ve experienced shin splints, IT band syndrome, and now a pulled groin. (Last night we played kickball with some friends. On the very first play of the game, I lunged toward third base. As I did, I pulled my groin. I wasn’t happy.)

If I’m suffering physically, it’s nothing compared to my mental gyrations. “I quit!” I told myself as I was walking back to my car today. “I’m done.” But that’s bullshit. I don’t quit. I’m not done. I may, however, need to reevaluate my priorities.

I’ve spent the past two hours trying to decide what it is I want to do and why. Here are the things I’ve come up with:

• I want to run a marathon. I recognize this is not a sign of fitness. It is, however, something I’ve always wanted to do, and something that will require me to be in peak physical shape. But do I need to run the 2008 Portland Marathon? What if I changed my goal to the 2009 Portland Marathon? What if I gave myself an extra nine months to allow my body adapt to running and, especially, to lose weight.
• I want to reach a healthy weight. Most of my physical problems can be directly traced to my weight. Though I’ve lost nearly twenty pounds since I began on January 1st, I’m still at least twenty pounds too heavy. This extra mass causes extra strain on my body. Every time I run, every time I do pushups, every time I do anything, my bones and sinews have to work harder.
• I want to continue my weight training. Through this entire process, my weight training has been the one thing I’ve done constantly well. I go to the gym a couple times each week and do the Body for Life program, carefully noting my perceived effort, and gradually increasing the difficulty of the exercises. My body has changed noticeably as a result. Earlier this year, I stopped my lower-body weight training. I felt like it was interfering with my running. I want to resume the lower-body lifting.
• I want to become more flexible. Years of sedentary living have made me rigid as a board. I’ve spent the past month stretching for ten minutes three times a day. That’s good, but I’d like to do more. Maybe it’s time to find a regular yoga class. I don’t know. Whatever the case, I think that developing flexibility is going to be key to allowing me to run regularly in the future. As Pam has said, some people need to stretch, some don’t. But those that need it, really need it. I’m one of those who need it.

So what does this all means in terms of the actions I’ll take? I don’t know. On Monday, I think I’m going to try to set an appointment with a physical therapist. This is the last step I’ll take before deciding whether or not to attempt this year’s marathon. If that goes poorly, or if the therapist recommends against it, then I’ll shift my focus to 2009. I have no idea what I’ll do about Cycle Oregon at this point.

Meanwhile, I’m going to make another pass through the Body for Life 12-week program. While I followed it last spring, I was focused and happy about my progress. I liked the variety. And it’ll let me get some running in, even if it’s just quick bursts.

Who knows what the future holds?

And really, that’s what a lot of this is about — not just for me, but for everyone. We don’t like the way we look, and that drives us to change. It’s very true in my case, although I would never have admitted it when I was at 207 pounds.

Now, not even halfway through my journey, I marvel at the muscles in my arms and legs. I’m positively vain. At mediocrity! But I think that’s a good thing as long as I continue to improve and as long as I don’t begin judging others.

Losing weight? That’s great. Developing healthy habits? That’s nice, too. Being able to run a marathon? Nice achievement. But what really matters to me? Finally being happy with the way I look.

Have a heart
I’ve been especially pleased with the ongoing improvements to my aerobic fitness. My heart rates have been dropping slowly but steadily over the past few weeks. This tells me that my lung capacity is improving.

Subjectively I’ve noticed the difference, too. The big hill a couple miles north of the house is still a pain, but not as much as it used to be. Earlier this year, I had to get off and walk my bike to make it to the top. Then I got so I could ride up, even though it made me feel like death. Now I can get up with only a moderate amount of panting. Before long it’ll be easy!

My improved cardiorespiratory endurance has also helped on the long marathon training runs.

Stiff as a board
There have been some setbacks, too, though. As you’ll recall, my doctor declared that I was as flexible as a two-by-four, and instructed me to stretch several times a day. I’ve been doing that. At first it seemed to help, but now I feel as if the stretches don’t do much. (Maybe it’s time to add something new?)

This is a problem because I’ve come to realize that many of my aches and pains really are related to my lack of flexibility. Yesterday, for example, I stood from this chair to go do my noon stretches, and in doing so I pulled something in my right hip. Just by standing! I feel like an old man.

A sore knee
My worst current injury, however, is in my left knee. When I awoke on Saturday to go for our sixteen mile trail run, my IT band pain was gone but my left knee was sore. (This was new. It hadn’t been sore before.) I ran a couple miles, but the pain just seemed to increase, especially when running downhill. Eventually, at mile four, I stopped and turned around. I walked out of the forest to my car.

Mentally, this sucked. Physically, the pain isn’t too bad for most normal movement, but it comes on strong when I walk down stairs or when I walk across our uneven lawn. My knee even hurts a little when I’m biking.

I suspect this may just be the problem with my IT band, but moved lower on the leg. Before, the pain was about mid-thigh. Now it’s directly at the side of the knee, which I understand to be a common place for IT band to manifest itself.

Whatever the case, I don’t like it.

Moving forward
Meanwhile, I continue to progress with my weight-training program. After a longish plateau, I bumped some of my weights up last week. Also, I’m ready to try some new exercises (including the barbell bench press).

I’m doing fairly well with my water-only routine for July, and feel better because of it. (Maybe this is only mental — I don’t care.) I’m focusing on portion size a lot lately, and have been trying to choose fruits and vegetables more.

Now, if only my body would heal itself completely, I’d feel like everything was peachy!

This post, like many others I read here, makes me wonder how exactly you’re defining the word “fit.” I’d love to see a blog post on that topic.

This seems like an innocuous question. In reality, it cuts to the heart of my goals and motivation. What is it I’m trying to achieve? What does it mean to be fit, and how will I know when I get there? I’ve been thinking about Greenman’s question for the past week.

What does it mean to be rich?
One of the recurring themes at my money blog is the difficulty in defining what it means to be rich (or wealthy). How much money is enough? Is money even a good measure of wealth? Once a person is rich, what then?

There are several problems in defining “rich”:

• The meaning of the term varies from culture-to-culture. Who is rich in Somalia may not be rich in Canada.
• “Rich” means different things to different people. What you view as rich, I may view as middle-class.
• Even for an individual, the definition of rich may be a moving target. If my fifteen-year-old self could see my current self, he’d think I was rich, for example. But I don’t feel rich.

The definition of “rich” is largely subjective. When I talk about getting rich slowly, what I’m really promoting is improving your current financial situation. There’s no finish line. There’s no ultimate goal. There’s just ongoing measured progress to a better life.

What does it mean to be fit?
The same is true with physical fitness: it’s not a destination, but a process. There’s little agreement even among experts regarding what “fit” actually means.

Body mass index, for example, has been used by many medical professionals and organizations (including the U.S. government) as a measure of individual fitness. But in recent years, some have disputed the usefulness of the body mass index.

Or what about the food pyramid? What was once promoted as a useful guide to nutritious food came under fire and was ultimately revised. But how long will the new guidelines be deemed definitive?

To me, it seems senseless to seek some sort of objective measure of fitness. Each of us is different. We have different bodies. We have different minds. We have different goals. Instead, I think we ought to have individual standards of fitness, based on our personal strengths and weaknesses.

Personal fitness
On January 1st of this year, I weighed 207 pounds. I could do three pushups. I could not run for even ten minutes. I could not bench press 60 pounds. I ate poorly. I did not exercise.

Today I weigh 190 pounds. I can do twenty consecutive pushups (and over 50 with short breaks). I can run nearly four hours at a time. I can bench press 100 pounds. My diet is still not ideal, but it is improving. (”I can’t believe you’re my husband,” Kris said the other day after watching me choose fruis and vegetables.) Not only do I exercise most days of the week — I actually look forward to doing so. I continue to take the advice of Get Fit Slowly readers and implement it into my life.

But am I fit? I’m certainly more fit than I was six months ago, but there’s still a lot of work remaining.

And striving to drink only water for one month? Beverages are one of my weaknesses. I drink more alcohol than I should. I drink too much soda pop. I drink a lot of juice. My daily diet is filled with too much sugar, alcohol, and caffeine. How much of these should a fit person drink? I don’t know. But I know that I want to drink less of all of them, and so I’m willing to try a one-month water-only experiment.

Conclusion
Ultimately, I have no clearer definition in my mind of what it means to be “fit” than I do of what it means to be “rich”. In some ways, I believe fitness is more about the journey than any destination. I believe that each of us — regardless of our personal fitness levels — should strive to become more fit than we already are. It’s up to you to decide what that means in your case.

For me, this means a continued battle to develop healthier habits: to eat sensibly, to exercise often, and to get better sleep. The pursuit of fitness is a gift I’m giving myself. It makes me feel good, both physically and mentally.

What about you? What does the word “fit” mean to you?

On Sunday, Pam and I went down to Eugene to witness some people who epitomize fitness. The US Track and Field Olympic Trials were amazing to watch. What those athletes do with their bodies is absolutely mind boggling. Even as I’m starting to call myself fit, I know that I can’t perform half as well as the average Olympic athlete. Yep, I think it would take me almost 20 seconds to complete 100m, or almost 90 seconds to complete 400. I’m damn sure I can’t pole vault 9 feet, or long jump 15. It was, in a word, breathtaking.

But, on Sunday morning, as we were walking through the metal detectors to get into the festival surrounding the trials, Pam looked back and me and said that I looked good, athletic, and fit. Now it’s really nice to receive compliments from strangers when you post pictures of yourself on the internet. But it’s entirely different when the people who see you everyday, the ones who know you the best, the ones who you are getting fit slowly for (at least in part) pay you those same compliments. It makes you feel wonderful. It makes you feel like you’re on top of the world. It makes you feel like anything is possible and that everything you’ve gone through has been worth it. It makes you want to work harder and succeed more. It’s the most inspiring thing that’s happened to me since October. Yes, even more inspiring than watching myself get stronger, leaner, faster and happier. To all of you out there who have significant others struggling to get fit–praise them and encourage them and they’ll work even harder. Thanks Pam.

My response to her also made me think about being fit. I said something about how I’m not working too terribly hard right now and my fitness levels are still getting better. I said that if I’m not working that hard, imagine how much fitter I could be if I worked a little (or a lot) harder. But her response to mine was even better and it really grounded me. Pam reminded me that you don’t have to work very hard to maintain your current level of fitness. I guess what she meant was that with fitness, and a lot of things in life, if you work at them a little every day, they’re not so hard to accomplish. I for one am not planning on letting the inertia of inactivity and poor eating habits get a hold of me ever again.

The biggest problem I have with vacations is the actual travel involved. The logistics of moving a family of four with two kids under four can sometimes be paralyzing. Long gone are the days of throwing some clothes into the backpack and running out the door an hour before the plane leaves. Now there’s toys to pack and sippie cups to fill, car seats to lug and strollers to push, kids to feed and diapers to change. It’s really tough. By the time we get to the destination, I don’t feel like doing anything. So, when I go on vacation, usually, my diet and exercise regiments do too. I was fairly active last week, but not as active as I wanted to be, and not as diligent with my diet. So this week, I start attempting to get my June goals off the ground in earnest.

But Vacations are wonderful things in so many ways. Last week, we took a multi-purpose trip down to southern California. Pam attended a medical conference and the kids spent some quality time with my parents and sisters. It was a perfect vacation–at least for me. I got three nights of uninterrupted sleep, ate out at nice restaurants with great friends, played 45 holes of golf, went for two (short) runs, and didn’t gain a pound.

This week, it’s back to reality. I’ll get my three runs in and I’ll get my three weight sessions in. I’ve done well on the food front since we’ve been back, and I’m motivated to get my weight down this month. I’ve just had a week’s vacation to recharge my batteries, my kids are happy, my life is good, my partner does a great job at keeping me motivated. I’m ready to rock!