Fit for Life

Fitness isn't always about running or lifting. It's also about living.

Since I wrote last, I have passed my licensing exam and am now aughorized to sell life and health insurance in Kentucky. I made it to the gym a couple of times while I was studying. I actually felt guilty about wanting to workout when there was so much to learn. I actually went for a 3 mile run as a reward one day. My how life has changed!

I have met with some of my new colleagues several times in the past week. I am amazed at how positive and enthusiastic people are. I'm used to a much more subdued attitude at work. I like this new approach better.

I'm also working on a play, The Little Foxes here in Lexington. I made this commitment before getting laid off, so I really wasn't anticipating that I would be learning a new role and a new career at the same time. I'll be asking a lot of my brain and my body. A year ago, I would not have believed I had a chance. The gym and the road have taught me differently.

My blogging hours are necessarily limited these days. I'll try to keep in touch. Right now my biggest struggle is cramming workouts in between all this other stuff. I can't afford to lose my conditioning this fall. I'm playing double-headers for the next two months.

Peace,
Pennsy

"Life is What Happens to You..."

"...while you're busy making other plans."

I remember the first time I heard "Beautiful Boy" on Double Fantasy, John Lennon's valedictory masterpiece. My friend Tom and I wept together in his dorm room as we heard the music and grieved the fallen poet.

I knew intuitively that his words to his young son were true -- 28 years later, I know it from experience.



I think it's important to have a plan. I also think it's important to recognize an opportunity when it comes along.

I think I have seen such an opportunity. I have decided to try to be an insurance salesman. Gross? Bizzare? I don't think so.

Here's what I want from what's left of my life:

1. I want to help give Mrs P the kind of life that my wandering career and modest income have never made possible.
2. I want to go to bed every night knowing that someone's life is better because I got up that morning.

I spoke with a splendid person from an insurance company that I believe in. (I don't want to mention any names, but you've seen their duck on TV.) One with products that are affordable and necessary. One that doesn't make money by scaring people. I've been a policyholder myself for several years. I've been studying all weekend, and I'm taking the licensing exam as soon as I can.

It's an entrepreneurial opportunity that's way out there where the ice is thin. Commission only. You're only paid to produce, not just for showing up. I could fall right through into the icy water. Or I could learn that this is a chance to have the living and the life that I have wanted for myself and my family. Mrs P and I have had several long talks about it. We're both a little apprehensive and a lot hopeful.

She believes in me. How can I fail? I believe we're going for it.

By the way, I ran 2.4 mi in 30 minutes yesterday. That's a 12:30 per mile pace, and a new personal best. "Every day, in every way it's getting better and better."

Thanks, John. You'd have been a great Pennsyltuckian.

Peace,
Pennsy

The Better Part of Valor

It occurs to me that a certain discretion is called for when blogging about an ongoing job search. I'll try to touch the highlights without any dangerous details.

I have had a couple of interviews this week, a couple of miles at the gym, and a lunch or two with folks who care. Not a bad way to go about changing my life, I guess.

The hard part is keeping control of your own search. I'm tempted to panic and grab at the first lifeline that's thrown in the water. Tempted, but I'm resisting. Looking back, I realize that I have spend a lot of years trying to be the man I thought I ought to be, and not the man I am. As If I knew better than my Creator what a proper Pennsy ought to be.

I spoke to a friend today about a job offer. I asked her what she thought. "Is that what you want to do with your life?"

"No, not really."

"Well then, DON"T!"

Too simple to be true, don't you think? I have a plan. I'll let you know how it works out.

Peace,
Pennsy

Lunch break update

Started with a good run this morning, actually. I want to teach my legs to move faster, so I did treadmill intervals, 10x3:00 intervals alternating between 4 & 5+ mph. I wound up doing 2.25 miles in the 30 minutes, setting a new low pace of 13:20 per mile. That's as fast as I have run so far.
Date           Time           Pace     MPH   
08/09/08    3.11            14.18    4.23   
08/25/08    2.25            13.33    4.50  

This tells me two things -- 1) my cardio strength is improving and 2) I've probably been running too slowly. Judging from the way I felt after the half hour, I think I could have finished 5K. Maybe I'll try intervals on the 5K trainer program Wednesday morning.

The safety of the treadmill (and the appeal of all those flashing numbers) lets me push myself harder than I do on the road. After all. If I pull up lame on the treadmill, I'm surrounded by help. If something goes wrong on the road, I'm writhing in a ditch at 6:00 in the morning.

Since I made the decision to make running part of my body transformation strategy and less of an end in itself, I don't feel so wimpy about running inside. I'll try to do my long weekend run outside just to keep my chops up, but for now, sweating is more important.

I'll worry about tearing up the roads when I'm a little leaner and meaner.

Peace,
Pennsy

The Five Stages of Getting Canned

1. Denial - Ah... a meeting with the boss. They're going to reward me for sticking with the company through this difficult period.
   
2. Anger - Ten years for nothing? Long nights and going the extra mile for Nothing! Screw those people!
   
3. Bargaining - Ok, maybe there's a way to change their minds. What if I just sold on straight commission for a while, just to prove my loyalty until business picks back up.
   
4. Depression - I deserved this. I should have done better. He had no choice but to fire me. Now I'm done for. That job was the only thing I knew how to do.
   
5. Acceptance - I had a job. Now I don't have it anymore. I may never really understand why that happened, but it isn't going to kill me. I'm going to take the lessons I've learned and use them to find my next job.
   

Today is the last day of the time I've budgeted for grieving about my lost job. I have done all the cussing and blaming and explaining and weeping I care to do about it. I have (with the help of my old boss) come up with an explanation for my dismissal that doesn't involve blaming or bashing the company. And of course, I have engaged in a certain amount of self-destructive behavior - missing sleep, eating garbage, skipping workouts.

Tomorrow I start my patented Pennsy Finds a New Gig Plan ®. I have a schedule for the coming week - one that treats looking for a job like it is my new job. I'll work out, clean up, and do house chores first thing, then work in my home office from 9:00 - 4:30. After that, I'll put work aside and set about being a husband, neighbor, and father figure to our small tribe of cats, Molly the dog, Dennis the fish, and anyone else God's infinite sense of humor sends our way.

I'll apply the things I learned as a sales manager, building a marketing plan based on defining my product, targeting the most attractive markets, and aggressively pursuing customer relationships.

Does this story belong on Pennsy Running? In a way, it does. This program is going to test my fitness on all levels - physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual. The fact is, this kind of challenge is the reason I started running in the first place. Not just to be thinner, but fitter. More able to meet the challenges of life, whether that means the ability to get my family out of a burning house (one of my favorite definitions of fitness) or finding a new job.

As usual, I plan to make this page part of my discipline. I want to post every night to keep myself accountable. Feel free to nag at me if I don't.

Peace,
Pennsy


The image of Dr Kübler-Ross's model is from The Outlaw Torn

One Door Closes...

The recession has come to Pennsyltucky. Pennsy got layed off yesterday. (I also had a really good run in the morning, but frankly, the day's events kind of overshadowed my best time ever in the mile.)

I had a good job, making great money, working for super people. But the truth is, it never really touched my heart. I gave it everything I could... everything but my passion.

The boss was sad to let me go. We like one another, I think. But I was an expensive middle manager. Cutting me loose will probably save the jobs of a couple of guys who might have a harder time than I will getting a new gig.

I'm sad too, of course. But there's a part of me that is hopful. I wonder if God has a place for me where I can feel that fire again. Who knows... maybe even picking up towels in a gym someplace.

I'm taking the opportunity to create my own future. There is a dream inside me. I haven't found the words to wrap around it yet, but maybe some time running and lifting will help me find them.

"In my Father's house, there are many rooms." Time for me to jog down the hall and peek through some new doors.

Peace,
Pennsy

A Champion Among Giants

I'm watching the amazing women's marathon from Beijiing. Heres a shot of the leader, Constantina Tomescu-Dita of Romania. (image from let'srun.com) As I begin this post, they have been running almost two hours. I am amazed at their courage, their physiques.
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I cannot imagine the exhilaration of leading such a race. The leader  keeps pulling away, the chase pack keeps trying to reel her in. It's a classic and primal contest. I have a feeling that the marathon is about 30 percent ability and 70 percent will. That's the impression I have from watching the handful of marathoners I have known. It is certainly what it looks like on the screen.
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Watching an entire marathon is a unique experience. It unfolds slowly like a screw turning a tiny tick at a time. The numbers fall as the screw turns. 10 miles. 20 miles. 2 hours.
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Mrs P says that they look like they are miserable, like what they are doing hurts. It probably does hurt, but I see something else in their eyes. Determination. Each has a goal and a plan to reach it. The goal is out of their sight, the greatest obstacles are as present as their own hearts. I see warriors who refuse to be defeated. Not by weather. Not by fatigue. Never.
 
The runners whose pain is so great that they must drop out have their own courage and tragic glory.
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My God. She just ran into the stadum. She is all alone. They were actually unrolling the tape as she ran past. What an amazing thing to witness. What an inspiration. 38 years old.

And after the winners come the rest of the heros. Limping. Cramping. Gasping for air. Battling agony. These women are giants.

Tomescu-Dita. What a name. What a champion.
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The Marathon seems to be to be the most Olympic of events. All nations competing at once. Nationality seems to fade away. The parochial "where are the Americans" of the announcers no longer matters. It may not be great television, but it is great drama.

It makes a Pennsyltuckian want to run.

Peace,
Pennsy