I'm a Little Engine

Not one to let the ignominy of my gym experience get me down, I was back at the track this week.  Weather is hot and muggy, I'm feeling a little lethargic and trying hard to find some new source of motivation.  In the meantime, I consider getting my running shoes on and being there a major victory.

Maybe in the interim, someone can help explain a few things for me.  The lack of results is really a downer.  Don't get me wrong.  I get the fact that there is more I could be doing.  I could definitely be going to the gym more days during the week.  I'm not right now, but I could.  There are places my diet could be cleaned up.  It's not horrible, but it's not all bran and tofu either.  Still, I've cut out fast food almost completely.  (Although this isn't so much for dietary reasons as it is because of the fact that I've found I just don't feel very good afterwards.)  We rarely have sodas or juice in the house.  Unless we're having a get together, we are a milk and water family.  Like I said, I'm not going to be the next Dr. Oz or anything, but I'm not terrible. 

All of that, to some extent, is beyond the point.  The real point is this: I started out at ground zero.  Or maybe we should consider it negative ground zero.  I mean, previously, pretty much anything was okay to eat.  I was not getting to the gym at all.  Which leads me to believe that anything in the positive direction has got to yield some positive results, right?  Apparently not the case, but I am failing to find the flaw in my logic.  I was not expecting some tabloid cover results where I lost 25 pounds in five weeks, I was just expecting progress.  My pants are a little looser, the scale is a little happier, something.Unfortunately, nada, zip, zero.

As I said in my last post, I am happier with how my energy level is going.  And the fact that I don't have to stop to catch my breath when I'm running after my son.  And the fact that I want to run after my son and play more with my children.  All good things.  So I'm still going for my workout.

The other morning I had started my laps around the track.  I'm puffing along, literally (you can already see the little engine comparison, huh?).  As I'm running I'm enjoying the quiet and the lovely people who are out there taking their morning constitutional.  There is one older gentleman who is out there walking around the track.  He's got one leg in a brace and is moving quite stiffly.  And he would smile at me and give me a thumbs up every time we passed.  Bolstered by his good example, I decided to add an extra half mile to my run that morning.  After all, it was only one more lap.  I could do that.  Still puffing along.  Still watching the people.  And that gentleman lapped me.  At least twice.  Not a joke.  He's at least 20 years older than me, has his leg in a brace and he lapped me.  Talk about embarrassing.  There was a part of me that wanted to throw in the towel in utter shame.  However, I just kept telling myself, if he could do it then surely I could finish this little run.  "I think I can, I think I can ..."  It wasn't pretty, it wasn't fast, but I did it.

I'm not sure if I'm ever going to see results from this.  I'm not sure if I'll ever hit my goals outside of better health.  And that Boston Marathon is probably never going to happen.  But it's nice to know that little by little I'm moving forward.