Against All Odds

Yesterday was a bit hectic. I was surprisingly busy at work as people were trying to wind up their last items before heading out for the holidays. I had my in-laws coming in and needed to complete a few last touches on the house ...is the house ever ready enough for family? And I was determined to fit in a work-out that day, because I knew it would be a challenge to keep up my routine with family in town. I left the office a little later than expected, quickly headed to the store to pick up some last minute items, then raced home to get dinner in the oven and hurredly folded my last load of laundry. I glanced at the clock and determined if I wanted to get a work-out in, I only had little over an hour left to do it. So instead of taking the time to put my clothes away, I threw them in a basket, jumped in the car and headed to the gym.

Bye Bye Ear Phones!

I wouldn't have time to fit weights into the routine, but I could get a nice long walk in. I jumped on the treadmill, pressed the quick start button and started moving out. I pulled off my sweatshirt as I walked, and then placed my headphones on my ears and plugged them into the monitor. I switched channels until I landed on Law and Order, and then allowed myself to finally start picking up the pace. I was ready to zone. It was a few minutes later when I started noticing a crackling in my right ear. My first thought was that I probably had a little fluid in my ear. I had been fighting a cold aggravated by allergies for over a week and was still a fluid factory, but each time my ear crackled, I was also getting hit with a small sharp pain. I moved my head around and tried to change positions. Slowly I realized the crackling sharp pain was coming at surprisingly regular bursts. I removed the ear piece form my right ear and held it against my thumb. About a second later I felt a sharp sting. I was being shocked by my ear piece!

My first instinct was to jump off the treadmill. I examined the headphones and saw no break in the wires. Maybe the problem was coming from the treadmill I had been on and not the headphones, so I jumped on another treadmill and started my routine all over again. This time, however, instead of putting the ear piece in my ear, I held it against my thumb again to see if the pulsing continued. Much to my chagrin, the eair piece shocked me again. Probably the smartest move at that point would have been to simply chuck the headphones into the trash and keep walking sans sound, but I really hate walking on a treadmill without something to distract me, so instead I checked the left ear piece against my thumb.  When I determined that there were no electrical shocks flowing from that ear piece, I stuck the left side in and kept going.

Things progressed pretty well for another ten minutes or so, and then I felt a sharp stitch in my side. I slowed my pace until the pain subsided, and then after a few minutes tried to increase it again. Just like the electrical pulse in my ear piece, the pain came back. Apparently my cold was still playing a little havoc, and my body was not cooperating with my desire for speed. I was determined to finish this work-out, however, so I slowed my pace again, but kept going. About forty-five minutes in, I started feeling pain down my shins. Unbelievable! I wasn't even going that fast: I couldn't be stressing my shins. I tried walking through the discomfort for a few more minutes, but had visions of shin splints dancing in my head, and decided the smarter option was to slow my pace one more time. By now I felt like I was moving at a snail's pace, but then I glanced at the speedometer and had an "Oh Wow" moment. Even after reducing my pace multiple times, I was still walking at the original pace I used when I began this adventure ten months ago. It was a visible reminder of just how far I had come.

It hadn't been a great work-out, but I felt great anyways. I had finished the work-out despite the many calamities, and I was still working out ten months later despite the many hurdles. Heading into Thanksgiving, I can only say to everyone out there who has sent me encouraging comments, shared their stories with me, pushed me when I needed pushing, and bolstered me when I needed a boost, I am so very grateful for the support you have shown me this past year. I am where I am today, because of you.... against all odds. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

A Year Ago

My husband and I had a particularly good work-out Saturday morning. He ran a 10K outside while I put in four miles on the treadmill. I am a fair-weathered walker, so when it starts to get cold, I quickly migrate inside; he relishes the cool air in his face and continues to run outside until the sidewalks are covered in snow. We met up to lift weights after our run/walks. In between sets, he ruminated about how things had changed for him in the past few months. He remarked that a year ago, he never would have made a trip to the gym on the weekend, and he was sure he would have only managed one or two work-outs in the midst of a week involving three days of travel. This week, however, he had run a total of 27 miles, walked an additional four miles with me and pumped iron as well. A year ago, he would have began his day with a Coke and a Sausage McMuffin and ended his day with meat, potatoes and pasta.  This Saturday he started the day with a yogurt parfait and ended his day with grilled pork chops and vegetables.

The irony is a year ago, I think we both still considered Chuck to be far more dedicated to his fitness routine than the average man his age. While that may well have been true, it was also true that he had gradually allowed his work schedule to start dictating his work-out schedule. He still continued to run and work out regularly when he was in town, but he was typically on travel more days in a week than he was in the office. He combated this problem by staying at hotels with gyms so he could workout in his spare time, but as his traveled more and more often, he became less diligent about carving out time to use them. He still tended to try and eat healthier during the work week, but often got so caught up in work, he skipped meals and then compensated by eating larger portions when he did eat. They were all small shifts in his routine that weighed him down both literally and figuratively.

As I thought back to my life a year ago, I recalled a more dismal picture. Even though I was still paying dues to the last gym I had contracted with on one of my previous false starts, I certainly wasn't capable of a Saturday morning work-put at the gym. I was knee-deep in complications from my surgery and still sporting a PEG tube. My free time was spent mostly on the couch trying to save my energy to make it to work each week. The possibility of walking four miles in an hour would have been laughable.

As I wound up my work-out that morning, I found myself pushing just a little bit harder. I was incredibly grateful for how far I had come in a year, but what my husband's story proved was that staying fit took constant tending and continuing commitment.  While quitting assured failure, it seemed complacency could be dangerous as well.