Thursday, October 12, 2017

Everyyyyyy Body Huuuuurrrts... Sometimes.

I'm not in the habit of quoting Michael Stipe, and yes, it's out of context, but its my article so I'll write it as I please, thank you very much.

But seriously though. I woke up today and I had the good ol' sore body syndrome. I was sitting there feeding my 5 month old son and my mind went to war with me. "You're sore, listen to your body, take a day off, recuperate and come back stronger." And for a brief moment, I almost bought into it. But then I started to think about our Military and what the guys go through in boot camp. They don't get a day off to recover and pamper themselves. They don't get a soft shoulder to cry on when their feet hurt and they can't lift their arms over their heads. NO, they work just as hard and even harder every day to become physically capable specimens of awesomeness. So, yeah. I'm not taking days off because I'm feeling a bit uncomfortable. I know that pushing through will give me not only great physical benefit, but also continue to develop the mental toughness required to power through all of the other things that come my way.

Now that's not to say that I don't occasionally take a day off. Sundays are probably one of the busiest days of my week and its the day I spend focusing on making sure i'm ready for the six days that follow. For me, it helps to take that day off (from exercise) to recalibrate and focus on the game plan for the next week. I do a little bio-feedback and evaluate where i'm at physically and adjust the challenge level to push my limits just a little bit more. Small gains add up to huge accomplishments.

The old saying "No pain, no gain" really is true. There is no growth without discomfort, or in my case no shrinkage of my freaking fat gut. Did I mention what a horrible fat ass I've become?

My weight has always fluctuated. I was a "husky" kid. Any idea how embarrassing it was to go shopping in the "husky" section at Sears? I wasn't a fat kid, but I wasn't real trim either. I hated stick and ball sports but I played on a few school teams. Then I got a killer bike and some freedom and the nI got a skateboard and it was ON! I put myself through SOOOO much pain trying to be a bad ass skater. I was always hurt: ankles, knees, wrists, cuts, scrapes, scabs and scars. I worked through the pain because it was important to me. Granted, at age 44 I'm paying the price to some degree, but looking back I remember that never say die attitude.

Once depression kicked in, and the hurt was more the kind that Michael Stipe caterwauls about, I lost the will to fight. It hurt too much. Drinking sure seemed to help so I did lots of it. I also developed a ton of other really, really bad habits, many of which I've been battling to this day. something shifted  and I was hopelessly lost. I had ballooned up and got all bloated and gross looking which didn't help  the way I felt about myself. And I hurt. Everybody hurts, right? That's what the song says. That's why bars are full at all hours of the day. That's why liquor is an unbeatable industry. That's why people eat themselves into morbid obesity trying to medicate the hurt and emptiness. Hyper-palletable foods are just as much a drug as anything being sold by your shady neighbor with a mullet down the street. Its like cocaine. Seriously. no wonder people are hooked. I was. I mean I was literally physically addicted to food items. I'm detoxing right now as I type this. But by the Grace of God, I'm on this side of it. I know, I know, isn't this like the 3rd (more like the 30th) time ''ve "seen the light"? Yes it is. But i'm not going to let my past dictate my future. I'm not going to allow a little discomfort derail me.

On that note, as far as this venture into the depths goes, I got in a little motorbike accident about 6 or 7 years ago. I landed on a brick planter with my arm which caused my elbow to break a few ribs and puncture a lung and at the same time my head hit the tree that was planted in said planter, highly aggravating an existing injury to my neck. At that point MY BODY HURT. I couldn't physically do the work. Every time I would get a routine going , my elbow or neck or wrist would flare up and it would HURT. I'm not talking muscle soreness or discomfort, but my body literally telling me "STOP STUPID!".  So I did. Discouraged, hurting, disappointed. But that crummy food sure made me feel better. And I've been eating lots and lots of it for years now.

At some point however, I just got (insert cliche phrase here) sick and tired of being sick and tired. Well, really I just got sick of being in pain which was the root of all of my other maladies. I wanted to eat right and exercise, but because of my faulty wiring I have an exceedingly difficult time doing one without the other. So I found some things that have really helped me along the way. For personal reasons I simply will not take pharmaceutical pain relievers or muscle relaxers or any of that kind of stuff. As a result, I've suffered. A new dietary experiment and some miraculous nutritional supplements have really helped with the physical pain, anxiety, and depression. It was the break in the clouds I needed. When I stared doing DDPY again about a month ago as part of a half hearted effort to make my wife think I was getting serious about my health, I realized that much of the pain and discomfort had healed enough that I could get through my workouts and not feel damaged afterwards. What a moment!

So here we are. Day 4. My body is aching but my spirit is filled with a sense of conquest and domination. But mostly I want my wife to think I'm smoking hot and want to get in my pants.

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