Fitness.

So when I made a conscious effort to start losing weight last Labor Day I had a size 36-inch waist. My pants would fit kind of tight but shorts were comfortable.

Today I am wearing size 33-inch slacks to work for the first time in a long, long while. They’re a little tight but comfortable.

I’m a little excited about the fact that I’m wearing pants this size, but they’re still a little tight, especially when you lean back in the Jeep and try to take a respectable photo of your crotch. I’m used to having a fluffer for these types of photo shoots.

Because I’m wearing smaller pants my stomach is a little confused at the moment. My stomach is saying “eat! eat!” and then saying “but your pants are tight! Your pants are tight!”. This creates a conflict within that can only be resolved by staring at a Dunkin’ Donuts cookie whilst chewing sugarless gum.

At least I still feel motivated, I guess.

“What’s the weather?”

This is the first thing that I say in the morning. Up until fairly recently, this was something that I croaked out in the darkness, hoping for a response from my loving husband. But then bigger, faster, powerful technology entered our bedroom so now I croak this question at my smartphone. Sometimes Siri says something completely unrelated to my question like, “Playing ‘Stumblin’ In’ by Suzi Quattro’, but most of the time the Google Search woman says something like “it’s 49 and clear.” She sounds friendly but robotic.

I don’t know where Siri and Google Search get their answers from, but whoever answered me this morning was not correct in their assessment of the current weather conditions. Ignorant beyond belief, I dressed for cycling in 49F weather. I wore my shorts, threw a t-shirt on under my jersey and then put on my windbreaker and reflective vest. Once downstairs I put on my safety gear and hit the road.

It was then that I froze my ass off.

My legs were cold, but riding one or two hundred miles a week not only bulks my legs up enough to push a small Hyundai with them, but I also have legs that pretty much generate their own heat. It was not the most comfortable my legs have ever been but I could deal. No, it was my fingers. My fingerless gloves obviously weren’t built for whatever temperature it really was and they were starting to complain about 1 1/2 miles into the ride.

My original thought was to ride up into the hills this morning but because I paid absolutely no attention to Mr. Besaw, my freshman Earth Science teacher, I couldn’t remember if the temperature would get warmer or colder if I did that so I thought I’d play it safe and ride around town where the houses were closer together and thus, it would be warmer.

I ended up riding around 12 miles this morning and once the sun came up, I found the whole ordeal to be bearable. My fingers did their own sun salute with the sunrise this morning. There was joy coming from my digits once they felt the warmth of Sol.

And then I found happiness riding my bike again.

Since the return of my bicycle from the shop on Monday I have been determined to get outside and enjoy one of my favorite activities this week. I have been up at 0530 ET each morning with the intent of burning many calories and enjoying the open road.

This morning it was 32ºF.

Not to be deterred, I ended up wearing five layers of clothes for the ride, including my snowmobiling gloves and a wool hat under my bike helmet. To be truthful, the ride wasn’t too bad though it was still chilly. I probably should have wrapped a scarf around my face to keep my cheeks from getting cold but when all was said and done I logged just shy of 10 miles over some pretty good sized hills in 53 minutes.

One of my goals this year is to not stick to the east-west routes all the time and to enjoy the challenge of the hills more often. Yesterday I road down the long hill on our road where I can usually hit almost 40 MPH on the bike, however, I only hit 30 MPH and I didn’t feel the need to ride faster. Riding down that hill is usually reserved for later in the season but apparently my exercising efforts over the winter paid off because I was able to get up the hill with relative ease.

It’s amazing how much better I feel during the workday when I do some sort of exercise in the morning. I feel energized and motivated. Tomorrow’s weather forecast shows that’ll be much warmer than it was this morning.

It’ll be good to ride without five layers of clothes on. I’ll settle for three.

I eat dry toast and cardboard that is scented like bacon. My sandwiches are devoid of bread at lunchtime because the carbs are bad for me, so they say. Any soup I have tastes and looks like it is just rinse water that was ran over a cow. I count calories, compute body fat and bargain with the scale every morning.

I want a cheeseburger. I want a double Big Mac with a super-size fries and a Gloomberg-defying 32 oz diet pop (must watch the calories, after all). I want to relax for a moment. I want to consider a bloomin’ onion without the masses shrieking in horror. I would kill for a hearty soup. I would rejoice over a reuben made with corned beef instead of a healthier turkey substitute. And pile on the sauerkraut while you’re at it, honey. And yes, double the Russian dressing, double it.

The old scale and the new scale are arguing over four pounds. The new scale won’t budge on his number. He’s a mean, spiteful, son-of-a-bitch that goes and tattles to the world what he just read my numbers as via a nifty wi-fi connection. Who’s friggin’ idea was that? Why does my phone care as to why I weigh? Old scale, always filled with the fear of another dropkick, gives me a number that I can deal with.

I went to the gym last night and spent an hour working out at a pretty good clip. It was a cardio experience. There was lots of sweat, horrible infomercials on the screens and toothpicky people working out for a mere 5 minutes all around me, all so they could go enjoy an evening snack consisting more of inhaling the cat’s food vapors. Not me. You better work it, boy. You might earn a dried grape if you work off 800 calories. I’d rather eat a dog biscuit. I did my tricks.

Somehow I gained 3% body fat in my sleep last night, according to the new scale. Well the new scale can go suck it, as far as I’m concerned.

And today I will soldier on. Cheers to you with a piece of dry, toasted cardboard!

Lack of drinking water + beer + the M&Ms store + midnight suppers = not a huge shock on the scale this morning. Guess who is hitting the gym tonight? Luckily, my attempts to be rational are prevailing and I didn’t drop kick any scales.

So, back at the end of August, on the day that I shaved off that big mustache that wasn’t as popular as the absence of it, I weighed myself. This is not unusual in itself, because I weigh myself every day. I know that people say that a person shouldn’t weigh themselves every day, but this is something that I’ve done for years and it’s the just the way that I am.

Anyways, on that last day of August I weighed 209 pounds. It’s not the most I’ve weighed in my life but I was headed in that general direction. And quite frankly, I didn’t really like the way I was feeling. Riding my bike was not as enjoyable as it had been in years past and I just didn’t feel comfortable in my skin.

Now, I’ve always had a “cub gut”. I will always have a “cub gut”. There is a picture of me playing basketball at 7 or 8 years old with my Dad’s cousin (we called him Uncle Bill) and when I posed for the picture it looked like I had a little tyke-sided basketball under my shirt. My abs have always worked undercover and they will always continue to do so. I am a realist and I know that I’m never going to be the chiseled type. My only goal was to feel comfortable in my own skin. So I decided to start doing something about it.

Removing the daily 75 minute commute each way was a big step in the right direction. By working from home three days a week, I had the opportunity to get out and do something instead of spending daylight hours behind the steering wheel. So I ramped my alarm back to 0500 ET (I always write that in military time so that I feel disciplined about it) and started getting up early and going for a walk. After a few weeks of doing this, I started riding my bike again. I found myself wanting to tackle hills I hadn’t climbed before. I found myself wanting to get out and feel the fresh air. My body thanked me after its initial confusion. The daily weigh-in, which never left my routine, did not result in disagreements with the scale. There was no drop-kicking. If the number crept back up, I decided I need to work harder.

I didn’t crash diet. I’ve tried that before and it has never worked. SlimFast did not enter the picture. Protein shakes did not become part of my routine. What I needed was a lifestyle change, not a quick fix. So what did become part of my routine was keeping track of everything on an app that our friend Jeff introduced us to, MyFitnessPal. I have written about this before and I have found it to be very valuable to this whole approach. It tracks my calories in, calories out, water intake and my weight, and it syncs between my iPhone, iPad and any computer with a web browser. I have no excuse for not keeping track of these things. It even has a barcode scanner that looks up nutrition information for you!

When the daylight hours grew short and the weather didn’t lend itself to bike riding, Earl and I joined the gym. Other than a break during the holidays, we have been going to the gym on a regular basis.

My area of concentration has been weight loss. I set reasonable milestones along the way and I even changed my goal once when I felt happy about where I was headed.

On the first of September I weighed in at 209. This morning I weighed in at 178.4. I have lost over 30 pounds.

I haven’t reached the number I have as a goal yet, but I’m in the ballpark. I took my blood pressure the other night and it was 120/82, and that was after a day at work! Ten years ago I was on daily medication because I had chronic high blood pressure. My weight yo-yos a little bit still, I’m sure I’ll clock in a little over 180 within the next week, but it just keeps me more determined.

Folks are starting to notice the weight loss and I find it flattering when someone says something. The folks that have always seen me with a beard or with the big mustache wonder why I’m clean shaven. It’s part of the effort; a more disciplined approach to my morning routine helps me get on track for the day and having a naked face helps me stay that way.

For the first time in many, many years, I am looking forward to the longer days so I can start walking or riding my bike in the morning before work without risking getting hit by a car. In the meantime, Earl¹ and I are going to keep doing what we’re doing and holding tight to the effort.

It’s good to feel good, both inside and out.

¹ Earl has made amazing progress as well and while I wouldn’t be so presumptuous as to talk about his goals and achievements, I will say that he is impressing me VERY much with his efforts. I am very proud of him.

I have been struggling with getting to the gym the last couple of days. As I write that sentence, I’m not sure that “struggling” is the right word to use but it’s the first word that comes to mind, so that’s what I’ll go with.

I think going to the gym and doing my thing on the elliptical machine alongside two dozen or so other people is running against my somewhat loner/introverted nature. On one hand, I like going to the gym because there is something to look at; there’s plenty of televisions thrust all over the place, there are people of all shapes and sizes and types milling about doing they’re thing. It surely beats working out in the basement and looking at nothing but cinder block walls, but there’s still something about going to the gym that feels invasive to me.

Perhaps I need a little bit of alone time one night this week.

One of the beautiful things about being a cyclist is that I get to see the world at a slower pace, under my own power, and under my own terms and from my own space. The last time I rode bike with another person was when I rode with our friend Thom in Virginia back in 2009. I liked riding with Thom, he’s a good guy, but for the most part there’s not a lot of people that I would want to ride with. My whole “space” kind of works that way. I like being alone and there’s very few people that I can feel comfortable being alone with. I know that doesn’t make sense if you think about it broadly, but that’s just the way my mind works.

Another one of the issues I have with working out at the gym is that there are reminders all over the place as to how much time has passed. There’s a clock hanging on every wall (which aren’t in sync and kind of makes me a little crazy) and the elliptical machines have a display showing how much time you’ve been doing your thing. The timer is in a location whereas it can’t be easily covered with a book or something. The other night I tried working out with my eyes closed but then I got into a song I was listening to and I was worried that I was swaying around like Stevie Wonder. I’m odd, but I don’t want to be perceived as strange.

It’s the first 10 minutes of working out at the gym that I dread. Once that timer that refuses to be obscured is in the double digits I start to feel a little better. Once I’m beyond the 30 minute mark I feel like I might be onto something. It’s not until the last three minutes of working out that I am actually enjoying myself. But the truth of the whole thing is, I really like how I feel after I work out. And that’s what keeps me motivated. It’s how I feel after 60 minutes of feeling overwhelmed, bored and frustrated all at once and I don’t think the elated feelings come from finishing the workout, I think it’s a boost in self-confidence fueled by the fact that I just got something done when I could have easily said no.

So I’ll keep doing this 60 minute workout routine thing until cycling season returns to The Empire State. I need skis for my bike.

So last night Earl and I joined the gym again. We are now card carrying members at Planet Fitness. A 24 hour, seven day a week gym is the only way to go. Can’t sleep? Go run on the treadmill. Need to relieve stress? Go run on the treadmill. Reality television blaring on the tube in the living room? Go run on the treadmill.

I was a little hesitant to join Planet Fitness again because we had a little bit of a falling out when their accounting system couldn’t handle two men sharing a checking account (only one membership would debit the account properly, the other one just accumulated late charges) and there was some yelling involved to get it all settled. I thought we might be banned for life. So I took the safe approach and signed up online where the website looked particularly flashy but not very technically savvy, figuring I could get my membership in without setting off the alarms. I was right! There was no one from the Planet Fitness security force ready to escort us out when we picked up our membership cards last night.

While I prefer to workout at the very least at home or better yet, riding my bike along over creation, the weather is getting to where it’s not going to be practical for much longer. So we need the gym to fill in for the snow-laden months, plus I can work on building up some muscle once I reach milestone 4. (I reached milestone #3 today and I’m quite happy).

Last night Earl and I walked side-by-side on treadmills and it was quite enjoyable. I am looking forward to heading back there again tonight.