Exorcising the Demons of 2016

How I’m feeling these days.

The beginning a year is for dreams.  Dreams of self-improvement, of being healthier, happier and more productive. It’s a time for resolutions—you know change the things you didn’t do last year—or the year before that.

When 2016 ended people were bitching and moaning on social media sites about what an awful year it was.  John Glenn, Prince, and Carrie Fisher died, there were numerous terrorist attacks, and an alligator attacked and killed a two-year old child at Walt Disney World in Florida.  A lot of things about 2016 sucked.

I spent most of 2016 as a Stay at Home/Work from Home Dad, and although I spent much of the year chasing an active toddler, I wasn’t as active as I hoped.  I didn’t need to step on a scale to know I gained weight—I knew by the way my clothes fit—I just didn’t know how much I gained.

Judgement day fell on New Year’s Monday, when my better half and I stepped on a scale, like we do every year, to see how bad the damage was.   For me it was pretty bad, it said 242.2.

242!   That’s not bad, that’s enormously bad, 12 pounds more than a year ago.  How did things get so out of control?   Too much beer, fast food, and binge eating, spending more time waiting in line at the drive-through window, then at the gym is usually a good indicator.

 

Denial is a wonderful thing.  I’ve been here before, gaining weight, and losing it, gaining it back, and losing it again, and again and yet again.  Over the years, I’ve lost 200 pounds, twenty pounds ten times.

Like many I have storage bins of thin clothes and really thin clothes neatly packed in storage bins in the garage, ok maybe not so neatly, and fat clothes hanging in the closet.  The difference is these days my fat clothes are fitting tight.  During my job interview in October, I couldn’t button the jacket of my suit.

Running and climbing a flight of stairs, takes more effort these days, and going down a few flights of stairs feels like I’m wearing a 30-pound backpack.  I spent more time walking than running during this year’s Hangover Run on New Year’s morning.

So once again, I’m beginning another weight-loss journey.  The task seems daunting and although I don’t have a specific goal weight in mind yet, I’m keeping things simple.  One day at a time, one meal at a time, one pound at a time.

Esther, Cristian and I during this year’s Hangover Run – Photo Quicksilver Striders
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In Search of the Zone

This post also appears in North Queens Runner

Esther, Cristian and I after finishing our Hangover Fun Run
Esther, Cristian and I after finishing our Hangover Fun Run

This morning Esther and I continued a family tradition when we took Cristian to Eisenhower Park for the New Year’s Day 5-Mile Hangover Fun Run (can something two-years old be called  a tradition).  For some of you my last sentence is one big oxymoron—New Year’s Day, Hangover, Running, all of the above.

The tradition started last year when our friend Coach Maria sent our team an email suggesting we run this event as a team-building exercise.  Esther and I bundled up our barely three-month old son anxious for the chance to mix activity and socialization.  Although we both ran slow awkward miles it was the spark we both needed to get moving.

Cristian always seems to find a friend
Cristian always seems to find a friend

Wednesday Morning I posted The Road Back on both blogs.  It wasn’t a resolution post, I wrote about setting new goals and creating new habits.  This morning was the first step.  We got up early, bundled up the baby and headed out instead of crashing on the couch with the remote watching a Twilight Zone or Honeymooners Marathon.

Since I started running, I worked to find the zone, the elusive place where the miles are smooth and easy, and excuses are few and far between.  In the Zone, I’ve raced half marathons in 14 degree weather, 18 milers in driving rainstorms and ridden bike tours through flooded roads wondering whether or not I was going to blow a tire.

I’m not suggesting this morning’s slow creaky miles launched either of us into the Zone.  Every year on New Year’s Day, the gyms start filling up with people making resolutions to lose weight or fit into smaller clothes—those resolutions usually die a violent death around Valentine’s Day.

The morning was Day One, a chance to do something I love and reconnect with friends I haven’t seen in a few months.  It was a chance to start creating healthy habits and hopefully the beginning of a family tradition.  If it leads to more, so be it.

With our friends and teammates
With our friends and teammates
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