Pride

I talk a lot about how proud I am of myself.

Today, I'm proud of you.

You stepped up and contributed to support the fight against Diabetes with a kind word, a phone call, a financial pledge. You're the bomb.

I'm proud of my nephew.

Cody James is going to put on the robe and mortarboard and receive his High School diploma this evening up in Pennsylvania. He hasn't had the easiest life, but he reached the goal. I'm proud of him and of all the folks on Team Cody who helped him get there. We don't know each other as well as I wish we did. I'm the uncle who lives far away. But if I lived closer, I couldn't love him any more. You've grown into a fine man, Cody. Congratulations.

I'm proud of Mrs P.

Six years ago she decided to leave a career she loved, helping to heal animals. She went to school, earned a Master's Degree with a 4.0 GPA, and now she works in another career she loves, helping to heal children. She works and waits and weeps for them and tries to make a difference in young lives that a lot of people have already given up on. That's her vocation and special gift. I know because she honed it on me.

And I'm proud to be a Pennsyltuckian.

For the longest time, I thought my Brother-in-law (born in the mountains of central PA and married to a KY girl in Lexington) invented the word. Since then I've found out that a lot of people use it as an insult to the state where I was born - as if connecting a place to Kentucky were derogatory. Well, folks who think there's anything wrong with being a Pennsyltuckian don't know jack about either place. Pennsyltuckians work hard, play hard, love hard, and know where we're from. Even when we leave home, we stay connected to deep roots - steel cables through seams of coal. It doesn't matter if we're from Hazard County, KY or the Hill District in Pittsburgh -- many of us love the 'Cats or the Cards or the Pens or the Phillies with pseudo religious fervor, most of us talk funny, and all of us are tied to the rivers and mountains, mines and factories, farms and forests that make our home what it is. Two things you'll never meet: an ex-Steeler fan and a Pennsyltuckian who wants to live anywhere else. I'm proud to come from a place and a people who haven't lost their identity and don't particularly care what anybody else thinks about that.

I'm a proud man today. Proud of my friends. Proud of my family. Proud of my home. I live life trying to be fit to be numbered among them. I wish you such pride and rich blessings today.

Peace,
Pennsy

My Training Partner

Today I walked a mile for the first time in 11 days. But I didn't do it on my own. I finally found a partner I can train with.

Molly is our ancient Golden Retriever. She came to live with us after a perilously long stay at the Lexington Humane Society. We don't know how old she was when Mrs P first saw her, but judging from her teeth, her level of energy, and her increasingly stubborn nature, she is about 83 years old. She goes at her own pace, and if you try to make her go too fast, or in a direction she doesn't like, she will fall down on her side and pretend to be dying. I swear I can hear her giggling under her breath sometimes.

Molly gets a walk after breakfast and dinner every day. Over the years, those walks have grown shorter and shorter as her joints troubled her more and my belly got bigger. This trend has had a pretty negative effect on our conditioning.

So tonight the weather was cool and the sky was clear and Molly and I started off on our walk. She was looking strong and I was feeling cooperative, so we just kept walking. We took a long route that we haven't walked for a long time. By the time we were done, we had gone a mile. We were both limping a little, but we made it home.

Two weeks ago I was worried about my time in a 5K. Last night I was writing about the glories of lifting hundreds of pounds of steel. Today I'm pretty pleased to have toddled around the park with my old dog in under an hour. And I've found a runner I can keep up with. It's good to be alive.

Peace,
Pennsy

One Rep More

My calves are still not up to par, so I've been doing a completely different kind of workout this week.

I warm up with a no-break version of low impact resistance band and body weight exercises (ball squats, crunches, calf raises). By the time I'm done, I'm soaked and well into my cardio training heart rate zone. Then I start working the iron.

Lifting weights is whole different kind of exercise experience. Cardio is about endurance. It's almost hypnotic in its rhythm. Your running feet tap tap tap on the road as you move along. The elliptical pedals turn turn turn. Before long, you can go for half an hour, sixty minutes, ninety. Your mind goes to a quiet place and everything seems to pulse with the easy in-out of your breath.



Female Powerlifter "daniela Sell" From Germany - video powered by Metacafe

Iron work is not about endurance. It's about intensity. Watch Daniela Sell preparing to bench bar-bending weight. Her concentration narrows until it is focused on a single simple object. Move this iron from here to there. From the rack to your chest and back. Until you can't move it another inch. Weight lifters sweat, groan, even shout as one repetition follows another. But repetition is really the wrong word.

When you hit your stride, running feels easy. Your steps feel light and you get the feeling that you could just keep running for as long as you wish. That's repetition.

Weight reps never feel easy. The whole object is to go till you fail, until you can't lift any more -- and then one rep more. When it feels easy, that's good news. You can add more weight. The physiology of weight lifting as I understand it is about breaking down and building up. Lifting until you can do no more does damage - micro-damage to the fibers that make up bundles of muscle tissue. In the following days, that tissue heals and is supplemented by additional fibers. Your body needs to be stronger to do the work, so it grows stronger. It's like watching yourself evolve and adapt to your environment.

The process requires two things. You have to rest to let that healing growth happen. And you have to make each workout, each routine, each rep harder than the last. This "progressive resistance" is what makes iron work so much different than road work. It's as if you started running up a hill that got steeper and steeper until you were finally running up a ladder until your legs wouldn't move anymore.

I like lifting weights. It's easy to track progress and measure improvement. I lifted more today than I did the last time. I like the feeling of going till you can't go any more - then doing another rep. And one rep more.

Aerobic exercise burns fat better than weight lifting. But weight lifting builds muscles, and muscles burn fat all the time. Those big quads and glutes that you build from doing squats and deadlifts are burning fat while you sleep. I haven't run a step in a week and a half, and yesterday at my weigh-in, I had finally broken below the 360 lb plateau I've been stuck on for almost a month. I'm not giving up running. I really want to run. But when I do, it's good to know that I'll be doing it with a body that is even better tuned to burn fat.

Till then, just let me do one rep more.

Peace,

Pennsy

"Sugar" That Isn't So Sweet

In the language of the Bluegrass, people with Diabetes have "got the sugar". We recently learned that Mrs P has joined their ranks. It isn't as sweet as it sounds.

Diabetes is the fifth-deadliest disease in the United States. Since 1987 the death rate due to diabetes has increased by 45 percent, while the death rates due to heart disease, stroke, and cancer have declined...

There are 20.8 million children and adults in the United States, or 7% of the population, who have diabetes. While an estimated 14.6 million have been diagnosed, unfortunately, 6.2 million people (or nearly one-third) are unaware that they have the disease. The Dangerous Toll of Diabetes

You know someone living with diabetes. I do too. You know what this disease costs them and you know what it takes from them.

Based on death certificate data, diabetes contributed to 224,092 deaths in 2002. Studies indicate that diabetes in generally under-reported on death certificates, particularly in the cases of older persons with multiples chronic conditions such as heart disease and hypertension. Because of this, the toll of diabetes is believed to be much higher than officially reported. Dangerous Toll ...

We can do something together that will help. One week from today, on May 31, I will be walking with the folks at Step Out: Walk to Fight Diabetes. That is my goal - slow and steady. Please join me with your feet or with your pledge.

I want to raise $600. Thanks to Team Pennsy sponsors Paul, Debbie, Mark, Cathy, and Bev we're almost halfway there.

Please click the thermometer or the American Diabetes Association logo on this page and add your support to theirs. You can pledge using ADA's secure web site. You'll be doing a good thing AND I'll hoot your name on the next Team Pennsy video from the historic Keeneland race track.

Click. Pledge. Help.

Peace,
Pennsy

Keep a-goin'

It's been a strange week of highs and lows. I started out still glowing from finishing the 5K, even as my left leg became weaker and more painful. When a bruise started to form on the back of my calf, it became clear that this was more than just a charley horse.

I consulted "Dr. Google" and checked off my symptoms.

1. Sudden, painful onset
2. Loss of strength
   
3. Painful to the touch
4. Visible bruising

Yup, I strained my calf. Not badly - but you know- badly enough. I had planned to take Monday and Tuesday off from the gym anyway. As it turned out, I couldn't have gotten from the car to the locker room without help. By Wednesday I was feeling some improvement, so I decided to take one more day of rest. I stayed home from work, walked around with Molly a little, and kept the leg wrapped and elevated.

By Thursday I was jonesing so bad for exercise that my skin was crawling. I was irritable at work, losing my temper at one point and slamming both fists on my desk - very melodramatic. I had had enough of frustration. At quitting time I drove right to Promatx. I did a little time on the bike and a little on the elliptical, but cardio was not what I was aching for. (and to be honest, they both hurt my leg a little.) I hit the weights and worked my legs and lower back as hard as I could stand. I was cautious of the injury, but rather than compensating with other muscles, I concentrated on maintaining good form and taking my time.

When I had finished my workout, I was a little lost. I had done all I intended to do, but I really wasn't ready to leave. I stood by the water fountain and looked out over the machines and the faces and the mirrors. I was so damn glad to be back. After a quick sauna, I checked the scale to see how much damage I had done on that front. As I suspected, I had gained two pounds which the meter confirmed was mostly fat. I don't think missing a couple of workouts did that, but filling the idle time with food did. To be honest, I was glad it wasn't worse.

I've been stuck at this weight and body fat % for weeks now. I keep fiddling around, changing this meal, increasing the intensity of that exercise. I'm going to dig out the blender and start making smoothies this weekend. Maybe that will help me to balance my diet a little better. Now it looks like it's going to be at least another week before I can run again. My plan is to spend that time building lean muscle mass in the weight room and learning about food without eating so much of it. I still want to do the July 4 10K here in Lexington, but it's looking more and more like a walk/run than a run/walk right now.

Tonight I had another great workout. I used the resistance bands to warm up for about fifteen minutes, then hit the weight room. Chest and upper back. I love when I finish an exercise and I can feel the muscles across my chest or between my shoulder blades. It's like something coming to life in there.

Slow and Steady. I've decided to take Aesop's Tortoise as my totem. He'll be up there in the corner of the page for a while. I know I'm not a hare. No amount of work will make me one. But patience, determination, and a tough hide will get me where I'm going just the same.

KEEP A-GOIN’

Author: by Frank L. Stanton (1857-1927)

If you strike a thorn or rose,
Keep a-goin'!
If it hails or if it snows,
Keep a-goin'!
'Taint no use to sit an' whine
When the fish ain't on your line;
Bait your hook an' keep a-tryin'--
Keep a-goin'!

When the weather kills your crop,
Keep a-goin'!
Though 'tis work to reach the top,
Keep a-goin'!
S'pose you're out o' ev'ry dime,
Gittin' broke ain't any crime;
Tell the world you're feelin' prime--
Keep a-goin'!

When it looks like all is up,
Keep a-goin'!
Drain the sweetness from the cup,
Keep a-goin'!
See the wild birds on the wing,
Hear the bells that sweetly ring,
When you feel like singin', sing--
Keep a-goin'!

I have no idea why I remembered this poem just now. Reading it again, I am struck by that last stanza. "Drain the sweetness from the cup," That's good stuff. That's American stuff.

Kind of makes a Fat Man feel like singing.

Peace,
Pennsy

Things I Learned from my First 5K

Ego is the enemy.

I really pressed the last leg of the race I wasn't really thinking about my time. I wanted to pass the two girls in front of me. I not only exceeded my training, I also wound up with a brutal cramp that still has me limping a day later. I now understand what they mean when they say an athlete "plays within herself." My race isn't with young girls, It's with the Fat Man, and he's been winning for a long, long time. I need to be patient. As it turned out, the time I gained by pressing and the time I lost by limping just about canceled each other out.

Water, water everywhere.
I did not drink enough water before the race. Hardly any, actually. The fact is, I just forgot. I was excited. I need to make water a bigger part of my training. That may have been one reason for The Big Cramp

Walk/Run

OK, maybe Jeff Gallaway is right on the run/walk business. There were two LITTLE girls, like 11 or 12 year old girls who pretty much kept pace with me for most of the race. The older of the two kept telling her friend, "It's okay, we need to pace ourselves." They would run like fawns for a while, then stop and walk. I would pass them and they would be chatting away, having a blast. Then they would run some more, passing dozens of adults at a time. The continued this for the whole race. Gradually, I stopped catching them. They just got farther and farther off into the distance (even though I was getting faster and faster.) They pulled away running, walking and laughing. They finished several minutes ahead of me and Mrs P said they crossed the line holding hands. I should have followed their example. I intend to do so in the future.

The most important meal of the day

I had a bowl of oatmeal and a glass of Crystal Light for breakfast. The oatmeal was a good choice, but I should definitely have thrown a banana or two in there. The drink was a bad choice. Icould taste that weird grape flavor for a good part of the run which was just ickey. A more balanced meal would have served me better.

Keep Moving!

I had a reasonably long cool-down, but coming home and crashing probably made the stiffness worse. I could have mowed the yard, walked the dog, or just gimped aimlessly around the neighborhood to flush the lactic acid out. Instead I flumped down and fell asleep. I awoke in a state of near paralysis and made my way to the gym and the recumbent bike. Slow easy spinning helped to clean things out, and long gentle stretching followed by a hot shower left me moving slowly but much more smoothly.

My wife is idiotically in love with me

She got out of bed at 7:00 on a Saturday. She made me a sign and cheered me on. She was the official photographer for Team Pennsy. She cried when I finished. Everyone on Earth should know what it is to be loved the way Mrs P loves me.

With God's help I can be a fighter..

I have quit on an awful lot of things and people in my life. It is easier to walk away that to stay and fight. Yesterday, I did not quit, even when I knew I would not win or even look good finishing. But I by-God finished. I am grateful to God for letting me run. I am proud of myself and eager to discover what I can do next. Pride without arrogance is a new experience for me. I like it. It feels clean.

Next

I'll take a couple days off from working out. I'm going to eat smart, sleep well, and do some heinous chores around the house. Then I'll start training for the Bluegrass 10,000 which is in six weeks!

Peace,
Pennsy

Who Sponsored This Run/Walk?

Chrysalis House is a drug and alcohol treatment facility for women and their children. This carefully structured treatment program addresses the many interrelated problems of a female addict. Chrysalis House heals and strengthens each woman for her return as a fully functioning member of society. When a woman successfully completes program, she typically has been drug and alcohol free, is fully employed, and has permanent housing. Chrysalis House is staffed by a multi-disciplinary team made up of case managers, clinicians, and administrators. Some of the staff are graduates of Chrysalis House. A volunteer board of directors, made up of social service providers, community leaders, members of the twelve-step community, and former program participants, oversees the agency. http://www.chrysalishouse.org/

Maybe your goal is to get fit. Maybe it's to raise your family. Maybe you just want to stay alive.

If any of these things matter to you, then addiction, any addiction, is standing in your way. It doesn't matter if you abuse ice cream, tobacco, alcohol, or crystal meth. It may be gambling, porn, 14 hour work days, or surfing the internet. Addicts give their lives away to their addiction. The only reason to stay an addict is that you don't want to be alive.

Chrysalis House is in the business of helping addicted women and their families to reclaim their own lives. Recovery means doing the hard work of buying your life back from the devil. You can't do it overnight and you can't do it alone. You need to admit what you've done to yourself and the people you love and you need to ask for the help you need.

The people who sponsored this 5K do holy work every day. If you want to escape your own addiction, there are people who have committed themselves to helping you get free. I know these things are true because I have lived them.

If you are an addict and you want to die, then stick with it. You're on the right track. If you want to live, then get help, tell the truth, and you can get well.

The Fat Man isn't running from death - he's running toward life. I invite you to run with him.

Peace,
Pennsy