Change.

Change can often be the most frightening thing a person will ever experience. Fear of change keeps people at all levels from realizing their true potential, abandoning them in a pool of mediocrity that is, to them, safe and comfortable. Wives often won't leave abusive husbands because the change is something they cannot conceive regardless of the fact that the change is better than the abuse. Fear of change also keeps people in cloaked in robes of fat that leave them unhappy, unhealthy, and uncomfortable.

For years I resisted change, fearing the pain and not relishing the idea of eating things like apples and cottage cheese on a daily basis. I was comfortable eating at the local fast food joints two or three times a day. I was comfortable hiding under layers of clothes that masked my fat. Truth of the matter was, however, that I was totally uncomfortable. My back hurt constantly, as did my knees, feet, and hips. I sweat bullets doing the most simple tasks. I wouldn't go to the beach (even here in sunny North Carolina!), and when my wife would finally convince me to go, I would not take off my shirt to get some sun on my pallid skin. I was comfortably uncomfortable.

I am reminded of a story that I heard some years ago that goes a little like this:

A farmer was visiting his neighbor, and the two were talking at the end of the front walkway. On the front porch of the house, a large bassett hound lay sleeping. Every few minutes the dog would stir and let out a long, sad howl only to lay its head down again to nod off.
The neighbors talked for several minutes with the dog interjecting every few minutes. After the fourth or fifth time the dog howled, the farmer looked over questioningly and asked, "What's wrong with your dog?"
The neighbor replied, "Oh, old Red is just laying on a loose nail, and he's howling to let me know it."
"Well, why doesn't he just move," the farmer questioned.
The neighbor's answer was simple: "It don't hurt bad enough."

I didn't change out of my comfort zone because it didn't hurt bad enough. I had become accustomed to the pain and only howled about it occasionally. What a pitiful state to be in - hurting but not willing to move. Even though I cannot exactly say what the catalyst for change was, but 2 weeks ago I decided that I had to change my behaviors and way of eating or face the inevitable consequences for my refusal to "move". Since that time, I haven't missed a workout and I've eaten out only a couple times in that timeframe. My food intake has consisted primarily of chicken breasts, apples, kiwi, salads from Eating for Life, Myoplex, and water.

Thing about it is this: once the change was made, I realized that the new isn't so bad after all. All of that fear of change I experienced before was unfounded - as it usually is in most circumstances. Working out doesn't hurt -at least not in the same way that a constant dull backache does. It's actually rather liberating to breathe deeply and feel the oxygen rush through my veins. All of those things I feared about 'change' just never manifested themselves; my fear was baseless, self-conceived, and keeping me from reaching my full potential.

Never looking back and looking ever forward. Fabulously fit at 40!

Sleep!

There are a lot of things that need to change when going through a Transformation. We can start with the 2 obvious ones:

• Exercise: check. I'm going to the gym in the morning for either a HIIT cardio or just a 30 minute walk/jog. Those days when I don't do HIIT, I go to the gym in the afternoon to do my weight training. I've made that change and should be able to continue that routine without too much trouble.
• Food: check. I've changed my food intake to include ZERO fast food, which was the primary staple of my diet for a very long time. My intake now includes fresh fruit, low fat cottage cheese, grilled chicken breast, Myoplex, and meal replacement bars. Far fewer calories that are better for me. My real problem now is actually eating enough calories so as not to produce a complete halt in fat burning.

There is one change that has been a little more difficult for me to nail down during this Transformation: sleep. Best case scenario says I should get 8-9 hours of sleep per night. Real life sees me getting 6-7 hours of restless sleep. I have always been a night owl. When I was in college, that was no problem as I could just schedule classes for 11:00 in the morning and beyond. Now that I'm a professional in the working world, I don't have the regular luxury of sleeping until I'm done. With 4 children, even the weekends do not promise the opportunity to sleep in.

Normal for me is to be awake until at least 11:00, but I usually push that to 12:00 or so. That makes getting up at 5:45 to go to the gym a little hard to pull off. Case in point, the other morning I just felt so wiped that I couldn't pull myself out of bed - after going to bed at about 11:45.

I have started to taper my bedtime back to the point where I'm getting the requisite 8 hours at a very minimum. No football game or late-night TV show is worth blowing my Transformation over.

Transforming the self...

In order to know where you are, it is necessary to know where you began.

I awoke the first morning of transformation and came as close to making a bad decision as I could - to stay in bed and forget the whole workout thing - before I made that self-determined resolute decision to get up - NOW! After a few minutes of stretching and rubbing my eyes, I headed straight to the gym for early cardio. Weight training would follow that afternoon.

Before heading to the gym, I weighed in - a sort of heads up to know the point of origin for this journey. 199.5 pounds. I think the scale was being nice by not saying 200 lbs so as to not make me feel rotten that early in the morning. 199.5 pounds and 30+% body fat. 

Yuck.

For some,199.5 pounds doesn't sound like a whole lot. I suppose it's not in the grand scheme of things. I mean, everyone else in my family (mom, dad, 2 sisters) except my younger sister blows that number away. My older sis is having gastric bypass in December, dad is type-2 diabetic, and mom is likely pre-diabetic. Comparatively speaking, 199.5 pounds is pretty good in my family.

But that is like saying that being nearly dead is ok because you're not actually dead.

So the "beer gut" (amusing, because I don't actually drink beer) and love handles account for most of the 30% body fat that I'm carting around everywhere.  But that's only the beginning. The unseen effects of weight gain are far worse than the unpleasant image I see in the mirror every morning. The physiologic degradation that my body undergoes is mind-boggling. Stress on the heart causes heart disease and (possibly) heart failure. The potential for diabetes is ever-present. Then there's the pain: constant, and at times excruciating. Feet, knees, hips, and back are always sore as they struggle to accomodate the pounds that throw everything out of alignment.

That is where I am, but that is not WHO I am.

I am Fabulously Fit at 40. The pain is gone. My heart is strong (and will last for at least another 50 years). My body is healthy, vibrant, and active.

The image is formed in my mind. The only things that remainare doing the work and watching the days tick off the calendar.

We are more....

How easily we adapt to the roles other prescribe for us. It is myself - me alone - who has the authority to define who I am and who I am going to be. Special care must be taken to assure that the definition I provide for myself is one that I am willing to live with.

For years, I have defined myself as "the fat guy" or "the overweight guy." Once that definition was made public there arose a vast cadre of individuals who were willing to assure me that my personal definition was accurate. My mother assured me that I was "just filling out."Someone else reminded me of what I was told as a child - that fat would eventually catch up. Still others were willingly complicit in reminding me that I could stand to lose a few pounds.

I am more than a typecast. People expect me to be fat because there are so many like me in the world today. People expect someone in his late 30's to have sore knees, a sore back, flat feet, and a spare tire.

But I've come to realize the opinions and beliefs of others don't matter.  I get to define me.  All others should expect to be ignored, no matter well-intentioned the definition may be.

I am Fabulously Fit at 40.

I am Fabulously Fit at 40.

I am Fabulously Fit at 40.

Little Successes

I have to cheer the little successes that are accomplished, otherwise all of this exercise stuff will just get tiring and I'll find myself wanting to quit it all.

A part of the reason I ended up looking like a pear on a pair of toothpicks is that I've spent the better part of the last 20 years of my life in and out of bowling centers - both working and bowling in them.  For those of you who have been bowling once or twice, you probably know that the food offered in such establishments isn't exactly on the top of the nutritional scale.  Deep fried chicken, fries, hamburgers, soda, salty popcorn - ah, the memories!

Interestingly, bowling is part of the reason that I don't look far worse that I currently do.  Despite beliefs to the contrary, bowling burns a lot of calories.  When I practice (I suppose it's worth mentioning that I am a professional bowler, so this is something I do quite a bit), I might bowl 8-12 games.  Without getting into the details of how the following numbers are reached, over the course of 10 games I will walk 3528 feet carrying a 15 pound weight for half that distance.  I will have lifted 2205 pounds 15 pounds at a time.  I will have performed 147 deep-knee bends while throwing a 15 pound sphere at an average speed of 16 mph.  Do that a couple times a week, and you only gain a marginal amount of weight.

Now, what is that success I was talking about?

Ah, yes.  Yesterday I had the opportunity to bowl a few games (6 to be precise) while my wife was at a meeting.  The last time I bowled (a few weeks ago), I had terrible knee pain, shoulder pain, and I hurt all over the day after.  I was expecting, at the very least, next-day soreness and knee pain when I bowled yesterday.  To my surprise, I felt pretty good for the entire 6-game stretch.  I still sweat bullets while bowling, but my knees gave me no trouble at all and my body felt fine when I woke up this morning.  I also managed to average 203 for the 6 games despite the lanes being pretty used up when I got there (it's a bowling thing, but used up lanes are hard to bowl well on).

The only thing I can attribute this success to is a regular weight training regimen and modified food intake.  I still look overweight, but there are small changes occurring that show up under certain conditions - in this case, 6 games of bowling.  I can only imagine what more of the same will bring.  I do recall that some of my best bowling was done at 176 pounds with about 18% body fat.  By the time I'm 40, I'll be WELL into that range of fitness.

Little successes mean a lot.  I shall celebrate them as they come.

Be well.