“You’ll have to let me know how you do,” she said, hours before I was set to take the longest run of my life.
“I’ll tell you right now: ‘It sucked, my legs hurt and the 13.1 is gonna be brutal,'” I replied.
Occasionally, I can be prophetic.
This was one of those times.
[This is my column in the March 16 issue of The Commercial Review.]
I played baseball for nine years. I was a football player for six more.
But I didn’t make it to my junior year of high school in either. I had a few things I wanted to do academically as well as enter the workforce. The fact I had an all-state kid who started in front of me in both sports didn’t necessarily make me want to keep playing.
It’s a decision I regret to this day. We always wish we could go back and change the past, thinking “What if?”
My decisions to quit baseball and football, my two favorite sports that I still love to this day, were difficult to make.
Thankfully however, those decisions were not based on one thing that I fear has been plaguing me lately in training for May’s Indy Mini: burnout.
It started with a challenge.
It continues as a lifestyle.
As of this afternoon, 349 days after I weighed 282.4 pounds, 646 days since I weighed 301 pounds, I have reached the ultimate milestone.
My weight begins with the number 1.
In less than a year’s time, the New Me Journey is complete.
When I stepped on the scale today and saw what it said, I had to take a step back for a second. There’s no way it was right.
So I stepped on it once more. The number stayed the same.
I gave it another try, just to make sure it was accurate.
Third reading … no change at 199.2 pounds.
I’ve done it.
[This is my column in the Dec. 1 issue of The Commercial Review.]
“You’re addicted,” he said to me, as we stood in the produce section of a local grocery store.
His statement didn’t spark a verbal response; just a smile and a little bit of a blush.
“You’ll start trying something new for more of a challenge,” he continued.
I couldn’t bring myself to agree with him at that moment. But of all people, he knows what he’s talking about.
An avid runner himself, Donald Gillespie has watched the progress I’ve made over the course of the last 11 months.
There was once a time I wouldn’t dare run on a treadmill, let alone run on the streets of Portland and in multiple 5K races.
But I just can’t let go of that one word Donald said to me on Monday.
[This is my column in the Oct. 13 issue of The Commercial Review.]
There are less than seven months to go until my half marathon.
I wrote last month that August wasn’t the greatest in terms of my training. At least, it didn’t feel that way, as I logged 52.16 miles during those 31 days.
Compared to September, the previous month was much better.
I managed only 35.4 miles in September. That just includes time spent on the road or on a treadmill; it doesn’t account for the distances ran while playing softball or basketball a handful of times a week.
But, in September I did run my fastest time for a 5K race — I completed the Hudson Family Park 5K on Sept. 10 in 29 minutes, 56.9 seconds. Slightly more than two weeks later I ran 2 miles in under 20 minutes for the first time.
“Running from the past, toward a better future … one step at a time.” – me
On the last day of August, I wrote that I had reached a milestone of hitting the 60-pound mark for total weight lost.
Here I am, with 30 days later, with more good news:
Chalk up another 10 pounds.
I’m really not even sure how to start this.
There’s so many emotions going through my head right now.
It’s been eight months.
For eight long months, I’ve pushed myself to become a better person.
For eight long months, I’ve changed my eating habits.
For eight long months, I’ve challenged myself physically.
And for eight long months, I’ve been challenged mentally.
Eight months after I truly began this New Me Journey, I’ve passed many milestones along the way.