#355: Under the Weights, In the Water, and On the Boards

For most of my life, "muscle confusion" meant muscles asking, "hey, why are we moving all of a sudden?" Now, that I'm running, my muscles are more likely to ask, "hey, are you just going to sit there typing all day?"

Muscle confusion is a popular trend in training based on the principle that your body adapts very quickly to stress. If you do the same exercise over and over, your body learns to perform it more efficiently, and it has less and less of an effect on your growth. Eventually, you hit the dreaded "plateau" where you're doing everything right - eating clean, running long, sleeping deep, lifting heavy - but you don't lose weight, you don't get any faster, and you can't pull that new, heavier dead lift. You're stuck. How to get unstuck? Try cross training.

That's what they tell me, anyway.

Elliptical trainer

Since starting LIVESTRONG at the YMCA, I've been doing all kinds of cool stuff. The trainers have me doing cardio on the elliptical machine. That's cool, because it works my legs in a very different way than running does, and gives me a workout without interfering with the recovery day between runs that is so important to my old joints. I liked the machines at my first gym, Promatx, because they seemed to have a nice long stride that fit my legs. Many of the other machines I've tried seem to have shorter steps that make it a little harder for me to keep my balance. It took me a while to find a setting that let me work the foot pads without bumping up and down, but I think I've finally got it down. The elliptical is a funny machine. It's easy to fake it... lots of people watch TV or even read while they're working out. On the other hand, if you set an aggressive goal like maintaining a high pace or heart rate, you can really break a good sweat on the thing without banging your knees and hips. Sure, I'd rather  be running, but working those big muscles in the legs and butt, as well as the big one inside your chest, can only help when it's time to hit the road again.

Chest Press machine

I've never been a big fan of the weight machines, I find them restrictive and a little boring compared to free weights. On the other hand, when a group is training together, like we do, it's a lot easier for the trainers if we're all on machines that are easy to teach, easy to execute, and easy to adjust. Carrie and Melissa, our trainers at the Y, have designed a program for me that emphasizes balance between upper and lower body. My legs are pretty strong thanks to the running and the amount of weight they got used to carrying around on a daily basis for so many years. My upper body is much weaker. During radiation, I lost a lot of muscle mass in my shoulders and chest. I've never been very macho at the pull-ups/dips/push-ups stuff anyway. Hard for those little arms to haul that great big bottom around. The other thing that wants attention in my upper body workouts is my right shoulder. The nerves and muscle the docs had to remove around my tumor has given me a very limited range of motion in that joint. We're working very gently with very light weight to make the muscles that are left stronger so they can compensate for what's missing. It's pretty stiff and sore a lot of the time, but I'm going to keep working on it. I lose a lot of value around the house if I can't reach the top shelves anymore.

Dormont Pool, Dormont PA

Then there's swimming. I haven't been in the pool for a long time.  I remember swimming on a regular basis at Westminster, when we had to pass a swimming class as an all college requirement. From the time I was a child, swimming was considered a skill that everyone was just supposed to have. Not that I ever expected to be adrift at sea, but if I were, I'd be able to cope. I remember reading about JFK's long night swimming miles to save his crew from the PT-109. I'm no Mark Spitz, but were I on Tom Hanks' raft, I could have saved Wilson. We went to Dormont Pool all summer, back when summer actually lasted three months but felt like 10 years. All of us took swimming lessons starting with putting your face in six inches of water and finishing with lifesaving training over at the deep end. Swimming was a given. As I grew older, I swam less and less. I splashed around in the ocean a couple of times. One summer, Jim Ripper and I paddled across Lake Chautauqua. On my first tour with the National Shakespeare Company, we managed to swim in all five great lakes. Huron is surprisingly cold, even in August, by the way. But I've never been a lap swimmer. I found it too tiring and a little bit lonesome. That black line down the middle of the lane was just never enough scenery to hold my interest. Of course there was the biggest obstacle of all. When you're 200 pounds overweight, swimming trunks just aren't your best look.

Bemus Point on Lake Chautauqua, NY

So, there were a lot of things keeping me out of the water, but after a long sweaty workout, that pool at the Y just looked too good. I went to Meijer and found trunks on the clearance rack, then bought myself a pair of those weird little goggles. The good thing about swimming is there is a lot less tempting gear to by. Running culture is full of garments and gadgets that sneak up on you, once you're hooked on a sport that is only supposed to require a tee-shirt and sneakers. I already have a watch to count laps, and don't feel the need to wear a little rubber cap, so  my swimming spending was pretty much done. I was ready to give it a try.

I got to the pool about an hour before class. I took my shiny new suit and goggles out of my bag and padded naked to the shower. Even though the pool is chlorinated enough to take coffee stains out of a white shirt, it just seems like common courtesy to me to rinse off before jumping in. I pulled my trunks on and tightened the drawstring, then put the black goggle thingies over my forehead like I'd seen them do in the Olympics. I realized that I had never worn these things in my life, and wondered how stupid and bug-eyed I looked. Then came the few steps to the door, and out onto the tile pool deck.

Fat Man Swimming

The pool is inside, but there are huge windows on one end of the room. You can see the sun and the grass. The Legacy trail crossed at the far side of the field, so you can see runners and bikers knocking out miles in the sun. The pool is 25 meters long, and during the afternoon there are two lanes designated for lap swimming. The rest of the pool is for summer camp kids who laugh and splash and dunk each other: stuff kids have been doing in the water ever since our ancestors crawled out of it, I guess. I put my goggles over my eyes, jumped into the shallow end and got three surprises. First, the water is warm. Like bath-water warm. Those big windows produce a greenhouse effect that I hope is as effective in the winter as it is now.Then there was the depth. It's only three feet deep. Sure, the water slows you down, but you're still jumping down onto a concrete surface in your bare feet. It's a little jarring. Finally, there were those goggles. Remember how afraid I was that I might look foolish in them? That issue was settled when I splashed into the water and they flew up off my face, twisting crazily around my head. I looked around to make sure nobody saw how stupid I was, and then pulled the little cups back over my eyes. Then I took a deep breath, turned my back to the side, and pushed off down the lane.

I tried out all the strokes I learned as a kid. The breast stroke was always my favorite. I swam it smoothly and slowly, pleased with the way my body slid through the water. The elementary backstroke was probably the second one that my dad taught me, and I always liked it because you could see the sky while you swam. The side-stroke and the front and back crawl strokes were not so successful. They all require a degree of shoulder rotation that I just don't have anymore. So I stuck with the wide, underwater arm strokes. Nobody is going to confuse me with a competitive swimmer, but I do go forward instead of downward, so that's a plus. As I grew more comfortable in the water, I made my strokes a little longer, pulled the water a little harder. I could feel my sides and back working to move me along. Before I knew it, I had  been swimming for 20 minutes. My heart is strong, my breath was even, and my muscles felt energized. I popped into the sauna for a couple minutes, then went back to the locker room. After spinning the water out of my suit at the extractor, I rinsed some of the chlorine off in the shower and padded back to my locker. How about that? I just went swimming!

I think it's a great way to train between runs. Swimming is the lowest impact exercise I can imagine, and there's no question that it's a full body workout. You don't sweat. You don't get blisters. I won't say I enjoy it as much as a run in the woods, but I do like the sound of the water as I move along through it. It's good to be back in the water in a body that can actually move through it without gasping for air.

Tonight, I'm doing the Midsummer Night's Run 5K downtown. I'll be running with some friends, which will be a new experience for me. I'm usually a loner. The forecast is for fairly mild temperatures today, which means less than 100 degrees lately. It should be pretty pleasant by the time the gun fires at 8:30. Mrs P will be there, and Mum is going to see me run for the first time... first time ever, I think. I don't usually think about spectators when I run, but knowing she'll be there cheering me on makes this one kind of special. Not going for any PR tonight. Just a nice run with some nice folks.

Click the poster for info and tickets

My cast moved today's rehearsal so I could get out in time to run. They are so generous and kind to me. It just makes me want to work that much harder. I know I promised to blog more about the rehearsal process, but I've been pretty distracted lately. I'll try to fill in the blanks in the next few days, but in the meantime, just know that End Days is going great. The show is dangerously close to being really special. Actors' Guild's last show was completely sold out before opening night. Don't get closed out of this one. I hope you'll come see it if you're near Lexington.

Peace,
Pennsy

You Talking to Me? - or the Tale of the 300 lb Chicken

I worked cardio tonight. About 7 minutes in the stair climber, 30 on the elliptical, 30 on the recumbent bike, and another 15 on the treadmill to cool down. The left knee and right Achilles' tendon both felt better afterwards. Still trying the stretchless workout. I haven’t noticed any ill effects yet.

Are you talking to me?

Tonight, I feel stranger than I have since I started working out. I met with Brad, the owner and head of Promatx today for my quarterly progress review.

We talked about nutrition, of course. I have some things I can do better now. Need to work harder on eating more small meals throughout the day. Right now, I have carbs in the morning and fats and protein in the evening. I need to even that out some.

Having a trainer tell me that I need to eat more was a real shock. But there was an even bigger one.

“What is your goal?”, Brad asked.

“I want to lose 200 lbs.”

“How would you feel about changing that?”

We had just measured my body fat,and it turns out that in order to reach my target weight, I will have to lose almost 50 lbs of lean muscle along with the fat. I was confused. So what should my target be?

Based on my current lean body weight, if I get my body fat down to 18% (not bad for a man of 47) I would weigh 304 lbs! Were I to get down to 10% body fat (pretty fit for anyone of any age) I would weigh around 277.

These numbers have really rattled me. Especially when I consider that since I started working out, I have gained 19 lbs of muscle and lost 53 lbs of fat.

See what’s happening there? My lean weight (in red) is increasing almost 40% as fast as my fat weight (blue) is going down. I don’t have the patience to work the figures at this hour, but it appears to me that if my muscle weight keeps increasing at this rate, I will be at 10% body fat at right around 300 lbs.

I am going to be a trim, muscular 300 lb man. That sentence freaks me out for reasons I can’t even begin to explain. The words seem so incongruous - me...fit...trim...three-hundred pounds -- I can’t even picture what that will look like. It certainly won’t look like anything I have ever imagined myself being.

It’s one thing to count your chickens before they’re hatched, but I’m starting to realize that there’s a very big chicken waiting to peck its way out of this blubbery shell and the bird scares me a little.

Jeremy Likness has posted a series of before/after pictures of himself as he reduced from 30+% to 10% body fat. (245 to 188 lbs)

Frankenpennsy will be 6 inches taller and 112 pounds heavier. - It that even possible? And will I really look that imposing in robin's egg blue underpants? This may send me to the shrink a few months early.

Peace,
Pennsy

Stormy Monday

I listen to SRV and Albert King and I understand why Robert Johnson went to the Crossroads.

Last night at the gym? Feh. Could have been better.

I’m sticking with just lifting weights for my upper body. I set new Personal Records on several weight stations today. The Shoulder Press is still at 50 (2 25 lb dumb bells) but that is a new exercise I'm trying this week, so I don’t expect those muscles to be ready to grow yet.

Cardio was half an hour of intervals on the elliptical. I really need to stay off the treadmill, but I want to run so much. My knees just aren’t interested in my fitness goals right now.

My weigh-in was a disappointment. I gained three pounds. I’ve been eating too much red meat and too many “healthy” snacks like nuts (and maybe a cheeseburger or two). I need to stick to fruits and other low fat things when I want to nosh.

My last plateau was after a 20 lb weight loss, so this may turn out to be a pattern. I want to pay close attention to see if there are behavioral factors too. Do I “reward” myself with food when I’ve lost that much? I’m not sure, but if so that’s a pattern worth changing.

I hate having to pay so much attention to my food. Thinking about eating just makes me want to eat. I’ll find a way to deal with that - one that doesn’t involve chocolate or a drive-through window.

Today is my quarterly review with the trainer. We’ll take measurements, body fat, BMI, all that. I’m looking forward to it. In spite of the small set-backs, I know I’ve made real progress in the last three months. I’ll be glad to see what the new numbers look like.

I’m thinking that one way to work through a plateau is to do something different - to change the exercises that my body is getting used to. I’ll ask for some counsel in that area tonight.

Peace,
Pennsy

Expert du Jour - Jeff Galloway

I did ninety minutes of cardio today. A long, gentle run/walk on the treadmill, and a half hour on the elliptical. I really wanted to do 10K on the treadmill, but the left knee said it was time to step off, so I did. I wasn’t really paying attention to speed at all, just trying to listen to my body - run when i was ready, stop when it was time.

Weigh in tomorrow - I peeked at the scale today and am officially at a plateau. I have my quarterly check in with the trainer (Brad is my new man - Jordan is off playing professional football which I find to be incredibly cool). I’ll see what his thoughts are about how to get the fat burning motor started again.


EXPERT DU JOUR

I read a book this week, Running - Getting Started by Jeff Galloway. He’s a blogger and a columnist for Runner’s World and a 1972 Olympian, so I figured he had some valuable things to teach me. And so he did.

The thrust of his message to beginners is to avoid the pitfalls that make most people give up. He suggests a run/walk approach where you begin a run by walking at a very slow pace, then gently work your way up to short runs, stopping to walk again before you become breathless and tired. in this way, you avoid “overdoing” that causes the kind of fatigue and soreness that discourages so many new runners.

He had some things to say that surprised me. He does not think runners should lift weights, especially lower body exercises because they build up heavy muscle that you’re just going to have to haul around when you’re running.

He is also very much against stretching, (except in the case of IT band injury) which really caught me up short. His position is that stretching almost always does more harm than good, reduces your performance, and increases your recovery time.

I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone suggest that stretching was bad for you. Still, this is a very respected and experienced dude. I’m going to experiment with the no stretch thing for a couple of days, but it still sounds really weird to me.

It is a good book, though. Gallaway obviously loves running, and loves helping others to run. His passion shines from every page. I don’t intend to spend too much time reading books about running, but I think this one will be useful to me for a long time.

SPRINGTIME IN THE BLUEGRASS

Still, a good day to be Pennsy. Thanks to lynross for posting this beautiful photo on Webshots. The Bluegrass flora are starting to bud and bloom. I sure do love me some Kentucky today.

Peace,
Pennsy

The Fat Man & his Wife Do It in Public (for the first time!)

Mrs P and I shared a cool experience today. I go to the gym straight from work. She usually arrives a little later. Today, She walked in the front door when I had been on the elliptical for about 30 minutes.

I have been telling her about the machine - my early difficulties, how gentle it is on my joints, what a great workout it is. She had not tried it. We’re both a little clumsy and self conscious about looking foolish, so we are shy about trying to do new things in public.

Well, today, she walked up to me, batted her big brown eyes and said, “Show me how this thing works.”

I was so proud of her!

I stopped what I was doing, and moved down the line to a place where two machines were empty side by side. I tried to remember all the things I had done wrong early on - don’t rush, don’t lock your knees, keep your balance, stay in control - then she stepped on to the foot pads and I showed what all the buttons did. We walked together side-by-side, a fat man running and his lovely bride, sweating through life together. And neither of us gave a rat’s patoot who saw us or what we looked like. She looked like the prettiest girl in the gym. And I probably looked like the happiest boy.

After a week of constant griping about my sore swollen, chafed, strained, aching, limping parts, it was really nice to just enjoy a walk with my sweetheart. It felt like Valentine’s day.

Only the air smelled like liniment instead of chocolate and roses.

Smelled pretty good, too.

Peace,
Pennsy

The Angry Red Monster "down there"

It had to happen sooner or later. In the aftermath of yesterday's run, I discovered that angry red monster between my legs -- no not that, you cheeky monkey -- I mean chafing thighs.

I immediately flashed back to attempts to run in high school and college. Inevitably, this it what sent me back to the La-Z-Boy. It aggravates two of my key fears - being fat, and getting hurt while exercising. I don't think it qualifies as an injury per-se, but it will definitely knock me out of the game if it gets much worse. Given my size and my genes, I expect this is always going to be an issue for me, so I did some research. Powders and Vaseline are both recommended to prevent rubbing, but my experience with powder is that I sweat it off, and vaseline just seems to make my thighs sticky. This results in more friction and a sort of deep fryer effect. There are lots of home recipies that people like, but the one I see the most is a combination of 1) Spandex compression shorts and 2) Body Glide, a fearfully expensive product that an awful lot of runners swear by. It turns out that this isn't just a fat man's problem.

I managed to find one source for giant spandex shorts (now there's a phrase that shouldn't be spoken out loud) so I'm going to try that combination. (Another $35 investment - I guess that makes up for the bargain I got on my shoes). I don't plan another long trot until next weekend, so I'll have time to heal (I'm trying triple antibiotic ointment which is Mrs P's panacea, and some time on the elliptical until the swelling goes down.

I'm doing several things wrong "down there" as it turns out. cotton shorts are a bad plan for a big sweater because they get wet and stay wet, making them rub all the more. Some folks even get chafed, bleeding nipples (pause for my head to stop spinning) when they run in cotton tee shirts. Baggy shorts make things worst, because they rub, and they ride up your leg. Also, boxers may let the boys swing free in the breeze, but they also let them rub against the thigh, creating even more friction, chafing where no man should ever chafe, and in the worst case I care to think about, causing a hideous condition called testicular torsion which sounds like something that happens when you sit on an electric drill. I'll be switching to something a bit less cottony and more snuggly at once.

Oh and I have a great fitness tip for travelers. Don't do a long run, then sit in a car for four hours. Mrs P and I had to take a trip to Southern KY yesterday after the gym, and by the time I got back home, my knees felt like they were full of broken glass. I'm thinking that a long run followed by cramped stillness in the passenger seat of a Malibu is a really bad combination.

I slathered on the Ben-Gay, but the pain still kept me up most of the night.

Today's workout will focus on the upper-body, I think.

Peace,
Pennsy

An Inspiring Fat Man

I saw this video on Runner's World. It really touched me.

It's great to know you aren't alone. I love the part where he says he's 258, but would like to be around 200, tomorrow if possible.

Like the guy with the hair says -- the key is consistency/not immediate results.

I did a hard half hour on the elliptical today - kept my heart rate in the 160's (my max HR is 172) - then showered and joined Mrs P and our family for some Thai cooking. Garlic asparagus with tofu. Awesome. It tasted like spring.

Tomorrow, back to the weights. The short workout was easier on my knee, even if it was more intense. It felt good to soak in honest sweat again.

Peace,
Pennsy

Running in the Dark

Fat and depression have been my companions all my life. I am determined to part ways with both of them, but they are stubborn bedfellows.

I’m bummed this morning. But I’ll be damned if I’m going to give up this time.

I’m not sure I would call last night a work out. I was scheduled for a cardio day, but couldn't really get it going on any of the machines. I started on the recumbent bike, but after about 10 minutes the knee felt a little weird, so I decided to try something else.

I’ve never tried the stair climber before. It seemed like an exercise with very little pounding, so I checked it out. I made it about 2 minutes. Not because my knee hurt, but because it is one mother of a workout for a fat man. I decided to try something else.

The treadmill was a washout. I did about 15 minutes at 3mph. My heart rate never got above 108. I guess that’s a good thing. That’s what my heart rate was the first time I stepped on the treadmill after walking to it from the locker room. Still, it felt more like a good sweat than a good walk.

The elliptical was my last choice and turned out to be my best effort. I did 10 minutes and finally got my heart up to 131 bpm. Then I bailed.

I had intended to take a yoga class last night, but my “warm up” had taken all the wind out of my sails. The depression that exercise has been battling down rose up and grabbed the back of my shirt. I changed my shoes and came home.

The knee isn’t painful, not really. I don’t limp or anything, but the threat of injury has triggered a real fear that I will get hurt and give up. Irrational? Sure, but depression isn’t a rational disease. I’m not at the stay in bed with the covers over my head stage - haven’t been there for years - but I am in a pretty dark place right not. The place where Mrs P asks “Are you mad at me?”

When I left the gym last night, I decided to take today off. That decision was what put my emotional state over the edge, I think. I may go in and do a light weight workout, just to keep the wolves in my head away from the door of my heart.

Peace,
Pennsy

Post Script: right after I finished this post, I went to my Google Reader to look for a reason to lighten up.

It's not true that life is one damn thing after another; it is one damn thing over and over. - Edna St Vincent Milay

Sometimes just knowing that you're not alone is comfort enough.
pax
p

The Fat Man Rides Again!!

Saturday I got really depressed about not being able to work out. My beloved Mrs P held my hand, wiped my face, and then took me out to the Indian buffet. Nothing lifts a mopey boy's spirits like a good woman's love and all the curry he can eat.

I slept my blues away and on Sunday made my first trip to the gym since the big slip. My toe hurt to bend, but had stopped throbbing. I didn't want to put any stress on it, so I didn't lift weights. That left walking, but I could not imagine the cardio benefit of limping on a treadmill. The elliptical machine remained a mystery to my feet, so I decided to try the recumbent bike.

I figured out how to move the seat and checked out the console. All the trails and mountains and whatnot made no sense to me. How can you talk about miles on a bike that stands still? I finally settled on a program called "cardio" and put Meat Loaf on my headphones. Before I knew it, I was pedaling like a bat out of, well, you know. I spun the pedals for an hour while the console coached "Keep Pedaling!-----Need Heart Rate!---Grab Handles!----Who's Your Daddy?" It was a little weird.

The program adjusts resistance to keep your heart rate at the training level you set, so it has to monitor your pulse constantly. I was surprised at what a good workout it turned out to be. I was not surprised that I could barely move when I was done. I stretched, finished my water, and made my way to the locker room. When I took of my sock, I was shocked. My toe looked like a plum. The bruise went from the joint almost up to the nail and more than three-quarters of the way around my toe. Forgive me, but I've decided to spare you photos.

Monday the bruise had faded, but was still pretty ugly. I made it through the work day without it feeling any worse, and by evening, the bruise was a much less angry color. I went to bed early and decided to try once again to wake up and go to the gym early Tuesday morning.

For some reason, the alarm woke me. Usually I just give it a well intentioned wack on the snooze button, then go back to sleep. Instead I tip-toed out of the bed and made my way to the car. There were a LOT of people at the gym at 6:00! I changed and found an empty bike. This time I had a chance to look around a little. There were not many familiar faces, but plenty of very determined ones. I am continually amazed and inspired by the way the people around me work. I got a chance to really watch some people on elliptical machines and started to make sense of what their legs were doing. Of course, you don't really want to spend too much time watching people at the gym. You start to feel like a stalker.

Work was just painful. The toe was ok, but the legs were screaming. Turns out I still haven't reached that magic place where a workout gives you more energy. The funny thing was, by mid afternoon, I was really jonesing to get back. I went right after work, and lifted weights for the first time in a week. I stepped down the reps and stepped up the weights on all the machines. I also tried the elliptical for a cool-down. It went pretty well, and I felt like I really started getting the hang of it.

This morning I did not go to the gym early, but I felt GREAT all day. Maybe that energy boost is on a delay? After work, I did an hour on the elliptical. I used the "Cardio" program and yes, it was a real workout. On both the bike and the elliptical I could feel different muscles working - especially after I was done.

Right now, I should be in bed, but I'm so happy to be back to work. I just wanted to let you know.

The heart, the mind, and the toe are all bruised but unbroken -- and the healing goes on.

Peace,
Pennsy