I've mentioned it here before, so I won't belabor it too much. But after months of quarantine in this, the 32nd year of my life, I woke up one day dizzy in a way I've never experienced. I could barely muster the energy to call out of my job. At the urgent care later that day I was diagnosed as having high blood pressure (150/86), hence the dizziness. 32 years old and weighing almost 300 pounds, I had finally received the scare I needed to come back from the edge - an edge that I'd walked along for years by eating with reckless abandon and telling myself that as long as I could bench press my body weight then I was fine.
Fine. Right.
Well, not fine OR right as it turned out. I was a mess and I needed to make big changes quickly. I started taking a pill that would keep my heart from exploding and began to track my eating. Simple caloric intake awareness made a huge difference. Prior to my near cardiac arrest I would stand at the kitchen counter and consume almost 1,000 calories of peanut butter without blinking. So that stopped. Also, I started running. It was a brutal process in the beginning, but I've considered myself (undeservedly, frankly) an athlete since my time as a shot-putter in high school. I knew what it was to push through the mental barrier that comes with the aches and soreness of those first 50 miles of cumulative running. I did it smart, never increasing more than 10% in a week and have gradually built up to the point where I can run for about 8 miles without stopping at 10:00 p/mi. pace.
I've also lost about 45 pounds.
The changes I've felt since beginning my diet and exercise regime have completely changed my life. I have more energy and a WAY better relationship to food. I don't dread putting on pants that are fresh from the dryer - something I realized the other day that struck me so deeply I about teared up.
It was poor habits and a tendency to over-indulge that got me to where I was and I still have a ways to go, but I will nevertheless be allowing myself a small toast for regaining control and discovering a love for running that I hope to build on over the rest of my 30s and beyond.
Happy holidays to you, Paul, and the rest of this community. I am psyched to see it grow even more in 2021.
I'm celebrating finally doing some big trail efforts solo. In the past few years, I've done about one big long-distance trail run adventure each year, but always with my two friends. Training solo last year, I ran into a bear on a trail (not literally, but right in front of me), which scared me and reinforced a fear I've always had when I'm solo in the woods. I'm the ridiculous guy who, until I get too tired, is probably singing too loudly whenever I come up over a hill or around a bend in a trail, warning off any bears who I'm always convinced have nothing better to do than hang out on the trails I run. But this year, I pushed through that fear and did two long solo trail running adventures: first, with my dear wife's encouragement, I spent Father's Day running the Bear Mountain to Suffern traverse in New York, and then later in the summer, ran the Wildcat-Carter-Moriah traverse in the White Mountains ("ran" should be in air quotes, given how rocky the White Mountains are!). I have always loved being out on the trails by myself when I'm doing my normal training in bear-less woods nearer to home, so I should have expected I would love the two adventures. But those full days out in the woods by myself were unexpectedly amazing. Spending that much time with myself, with big parts of it suffering, was pretty special. So, I'm proud that this year I overcame (I would not yet say "conquered") my fear of solo long-distance efforts in the woods.
I picked up running (again) late in 2019, and started 2020 with a goal to go for 100 runs. A safe, considered goal that wouldn't push me too far, or get out of reach too soon. A benefit of this year was that I hit that goal by mid-August.
I'll turn 50 next year, and I'm still trying to decide what kind of runner I want to become. Reading this has given me plenty to consider, so thank you for putting it out there.
paul, thanks for sharing such a personal story with grace.
not to sound too much like a sap, 2019 was, by far, my hardest in the several-months-shy-from-being-40 years i've had. i was struggling with, and at times failing at, every important aspect of my life - professionally, family-wise, in my relationship, with friends... you name it. with professional help, along w/ the love and support from those around me, i went to work to get better, starting in 2020.
then covid hit, and the world stopped. and this was, selfishly but honestly, the best thing that happened to me. when i was really down in the dumps, i would constantly mutter to myself "i just want everything to go on pause for a couple days, so i can reclaim the ownership of my time." albeit it had to involve a global pandemic, i got what i was asking for.
without having to go in the office, a big part of my reclaiming ownership of time was lacing up every morning, before sunrise, and going out for a run, no matter how long or short, how fast or slow. whether i'm out for 20mins or 2hrs, just the fact that i got to spend some time to myself, and for myself, every day, before dealing with what the day has in store, has been the most effective therapy i've had.
Flan, interesting timing on this specific post. Was thinking about this topic and you the other day. We live in a neighborhood that's kind of carved into the side of a mini-mountain/big hill. Our house is at the bottom. It's about 3.5 miles of pretty steep incline to the top, so 7 miles round trip. I call it the Beast (and also Curahee for the Band of Brothers fans out there). It super sucks. But I had you in my head the other day telling me to embrace the suck. Now it's become part of my regular routine when, a year ago, I wasn't even doing 7 miles on flat land.
This year, I ran my first half marathon. I'm running faster and farther than I ever have, and at 43 I'm prob in the best shape of my life. That has a lot to do with your encouragement and advice. Really glad you started Running, Probably. It's awesome inspiration and exactly what you should be doing.
this year, I became a runner. ran my first (solo) half marathon in October after 10 months of training. I expected to feel on top of the world, but instead felt the same emotions you did after the AT. I felt like that for a couple weeks until I set a new goal — marathon in november 2021 — and started working toward it. having something on the calendar, no matter how trivial, feels solid, a rare thing I can hold onto and claim as mine. I think that's why I fell into running so hard.
I've mentioned it here before, so I won't belabor it too much. But after months of quarantine in this, the 32nd year of my life, I woke up one day dizzy in a way I've never experienced. I could barely muster the energy to call out of my job. At the urgent care later that day I was diagnosed as having high blood pressure (150/86), hence the dizziness. 32 years old and weighing almost 300 pounds, I had finally received the scare I needed to come back from the edge - an edge that I'd walked along for years by eating with reckless abandon and telling myself that as long as I could bench press my body weight then I was fine.
Fine. Right.
Well, not fine OR right as it turned out. I was a mess and I needed to make big changes quickly. I started taking a pill that would keep my heart from exploding and began to track my eating. Simple caloric intake awareness made a huge difference. Prior to my near cardiac arrest I would stand at the kitchen counter and consume almost 1,000 calories of peanut butter without blinking. So that stopped. Also, I started running. It was a brutal process in the beginning, but I've considered myself (undeservedly, frankly) an athlete since my time as a shot-putter in high school. I knew what it was to push through the mental barrier that comes with the aches and soreness of those first 50 miles of cumulative running. I did it smart, never increasing more than 10% in a week and have gradually built up to the point where I can run for about 8 miles without stopping at 10:00 p/mi. pace.
I've also lost about 45 pounds.
The changes I've felt since beginning my diet and exercise regime have completely changed my life. I have more energy and a WAY better relationship to food. I don't dread putting on pants that are fresh from the dryer - something I realized the other day that struck me so deeply I about teared up.
It was poor habits and a tendency to over-indulge that got me to where I was and I still have a ways to go, but I will nevertheless be allowing myself a small toast for regaining control and discovering a love for running that I hope to build on over the rest of my 30s and beyond.
Happy holidays to you, Paul, and the rest of this community. I am psyched to see it grow even more in 2021.
Celebrating my highest-mileage year and the much healthier mentality that brought me here!
I'm celebrating finally doing some big trail efforts solo. In the past few years, I've done about one big long-distance trail run adventure each year, but always with my two friends. Training solo last year, I ran into a bear on a trail (not literally, but right in front of me), which scared me and reinforced a fear I've always had when I'm solo in the woods. I'm the ridiculous guy who, until I get too tired, is probably singing too loudly whenever I come up over a hill or around a bend in a trail, warning off any bears who I'm always convinced have nothing better to do than hang out on the trails I run. But this year, I pushed through that fear and did two long solo trail running adventures: first, with my dear wife's encouragement, I spent Father's Day running the Bear Mountain to Suffern traverse in New York, and then later in the summer, ran the Wildcat-Carter-Moriah traverse in the White Mountains ("ran" should be in air quotes, given how rocky the White Mountains are!). I have always loved being out on the trails by myself when I'm doing my normal training in bear-less woods nearer to home, so I should have expected I would love the two adventures. But those full days out in the woods by myself were unexpectedly amazing. Spending that much time with myself, with big parts of it suffering, was pretty special. So, I'm proud that this year I overcame (I would not yet say "conquered") my fear of solo long-distance efforts in the woods.
I picked up running (again) late in 2019, and started 2020 with a goal to go for 100 runs. A safe, considered goal that wouldn't push me too far, or get out of reach too soon. A benefit of this year was that I hit that goal by mid-August.
I'll turn 50 next year, and I'm still trying to decide what kind of runner I want to become. Reading this has given me plenty to consider, so thank you for putting it out there.
paul, thanks for sharing such a personal story with grace.
not to sound too much like a sap, 2019 was, by far, my hardest in the several-months-shy-from-being-40 years i've had. i was struggling with, and at times failing at, every important aspect of my life - professionally, family-wise, in my relationship, with friends... you name it. with professional help, along w/ the love and support from those around me, i went to work to get better, starting in 2020.
then covid hit, and the world stopped. and this was, selfishly but honestly, the best thing that happened to me. when i was really down in the dumps, i would constantly mutter to myself "i just want everything to go on pause for a couple days, so i can reclaim the ownership of my time." albeit it had to involve a global pandemic, i got what i was asking for.
without having to go in the office, a big part of my reclaiming ownership of time was lacing up every morning, before sunrise, and going out for a run, no matter how long or short, how fast or slow. whether i'm out for 20mins or 2hrs, just the fact that i got to spend some time to myself, and for myself, every day, before dealing with what the day has in store, has been the most effective therapy i've had.
Flan, interesting timing on this specific post. Was thinking about this topic and you the other day. We live in a neighborhood that's kind of carved into the side of a mini-mountain/big hill. Our house is at the bottom. It's about 3.5 miles of pretty steep incline to the top, so 7 miles round trip. I call it the Beast (and also Curahee for the Band of Brothers fans out there). It super sucks. But I had you in my head the other day telling me to embrace the suck. Now it's become part of my regular routine when, a year ago, I wasn't even doing 7 miles on flat land.
This year, I ran my first half marathon. I'm running faster and farther than I ever have, and at 43 I'm prob in the best shape of my life. That has a lot to do with your encouragement and advice. Really glad you started Running, Probably. It's awesome inspiration and exactly what you should be doing.
this year, I became a runner. ran my first (solo) half marathon in October after 10 months of training. I expected to feel on top of the world, but instead felt the same emotions you did after the AT. I felt like that for a couple weeks until I set a new goal — marathon in november 2021 — and started working toward it. having something on the calendar, no matter how trivial, feels solid, a rare thing I can hold onto and claim as mine. I think that's why I fell into running so hard.