Posts Tagged fitness

My First Fitness Blog Post

I’m not a fitness blogger. Or a runner, but I almost decided to add a new category about fitness just to have somewhere to add this post. Then it dawned on me. All those years of listening to my in-shape friends and watching countless wasted hours of informercials with Chuck Norris and that one guy from the Disney Channel that had really big man boobs and now only has little man boobs, taught me that it’s not about having an exercise regiment or a diet. It’s about changing your life. Being in shape, eating right, taking care of yourself…those are decisions that you make for the rest of your life so that you can live happily ever after. <<now I sound like the man boobs guy>> I proudly add this post to the “Versa Life” category.

There aren’t enough fingers and toes on this body to tell you how many times someone has told me that I just need to start running. Sure, I don’t hear very well, but I also don’t listen either. I could name at least 10 people right off the bat that are good friends of mine that run constantly and even enjoy the likes of marathons and other crazy runner events. Let’s face it…I’m surrounded by crazy runner people. They always talk about “the runner’s high”; they say there’s no other feeling like it in the world.

Last week, my good friend Meg Gartland pointed me to an app on the iPhone call myfitnesspal. She claimed it helped her to do all the things that traditional fitness record keeping methods couldn’t. I downloaded it, but didn’t really do anything with it. Over the weekend, I was at the mall with another good friend Amanda Quast, when I came across some really cool GPS watches by Nike and Garmin. I really wanted to get one, but not because of the fitness aspect…because of the geek factor. I mean really, how cool of a watch to have, but without the lackluster of telling people “Yeah, I’m a runner” it was merely just another geek purchase. Finally, Sunday night, I dusted off the ole Runkeeper app that I had downloaded for free months ago (you know, because it was free). I setup my new myfitnesspal account and set my alarm to wake up at 6:30am.

Monday morning 6:30am….came and went.

Tuesday morning 6:30am…came and went.

Wednesday morning 6:30am…WE’RE OFF AND RUNNING!! Here’s the deal…it sucked. I ran half a mile and I about puked on 2nd Street. As I walked, attempting to capture the last remaining breaths my body had, I half expected some sort of dancing purple elephant to come out from behind the light pole, or some cute little chubby angels playing harps to fly over my head. Where was this “runner’s high”? Did Meg and Jenn and the other Meg and Jodi and Cort and Angela all lie to me? Was this a scam!??

Turns out, you don’t get the high until about mile 4. Dang it!

A funny thing happened though on Wednesday night. I had the urge to go running again. I don’t like running though. I never have. It’s tedious and boring. There’s nothing remotely fun about it. I’d rather watch golf for 4 hours on TV…and I hate watching golf on TV. So I ran on Thursday morning…all of about .70 mile. Then guess what happened…I almost puked again on 2nd Street. And then, ooh ooh…guess what happened…I had the urge to run Thursday night! So I did pushups instead. And then this morning, Friday, I went and ran. FOR A WHOLE MILE!! Can you believe it!!?? What the heck happened to me? It’s like I swallowed a Tony Little video and now I can’t stop!!

Here’s the thing…I hope I don’t stop. I need this kind of daily exercise in my life. I’m not looking to become a fitness blogger. I’m not looking to get ripped and look like Hercules. I do however want to be around long enough for my kids to get married one day and for me to play with my grandkids the way my Dad plays with his. I’m not getting younger and I don’t have the fountain of youth. As big of a game as I might talk, I don’t want to grow old alone. There’s no joy in that. Grumpy old men might be cute on TV but when they tuck themselves in at night, they’re still alone and grumpy old men. I’m not going to allow myself to die a grumpy old fat man.

Now get off my lawn!!

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Push Me To The Limit…MAGGOT!

In general, I hate running.  However, this morning I went running.  I ran a few weeks ago too.  I’m building up motivation to do it more.  While my distaste for the long haul exercise is generally putrid, I do acknowledge that I need to do it.  Or at least something.  I’m 32 years old after all.  My metabolism has slowly withered away to nothing.  10 years ago, I could easily sit down and eat 3 Big Macs with no ill affects.  It seems if I eat a cracker now, my intestinal outline adds gerth.

From time to time, I may solicit support from my friends.  I don’t require any gifts or recognition though.  My mentality is more of the bootcamp sort.  Yell at me; tell me I’m fat; scream at me to get my lazy ass out of the recliner.  You may think it’s unncessary and harsh, but it works.

I’ve been doing crunches and pushups for awhile now.  I’ve slowly seen the difference in my stamina and pectoral shape.  Yes, I have man boobs; not the big saggy kind that requires a bro but the just subtle mole hills (not attractive in my opinion).

Some of you are probably wondering why I don’t just join a gym.  Oddly enough, I have full access to a gym at my workplace.  We even have raquetball courts and I could shower afterwards.  There is something about working out in front of people though that scares me.  I can’t explain it.  Intimidation maybe?  When I was in high school, I was not really a “big” guy so to speak; tall, but just not built massively.  Whenever I’d have to go workout in the rec center above the gym, I felt insignificant compared to the guys who were doing 400lb dead lifts and 350lb bench presses.  I couldn’t hang with that!!  Maybe it pyschologically scarred me for life.

I’ll leave you with a quote from one of my favorite movies, and an example of the kind of motivation I require:

If you ladies leave my island, if you survive recruit training, you will be a weapon. You will be a minister of death praying for war. But until that day you are pukes. You are the lowest form of life on Earth. You are not even human, fucking beings. You are nothing but unorganized grabastic pieces of amphibian shit. Because I am hard you will not like me. But the more you hate me the more you will learn. I am hard but I am fair. There is no racial bigotry here. I do not look down on niggers, kikes, wops or greasers. Here you are all equally worthless. And my orders are to weed out all non-hackers who do not pack the gear to serve in my beloved Corps. Do you maggots understand that?

Gunnery Sergeant Hartman — Full Metal Jacket

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