I’ve been getting fat again lately.
My eating has been undisciplined and my working out not quite to the standard I set for myself last spring. Why? Well, that’s a complicated answer, but none of it matters now.
But wait a second, you’re thinking, “What was that standard?” Well, let me tell you.
I was working out hard, 5 days a week, primarily on the treadmill last spring (realize that I view my life as a series of semesters. It’s the curse of college). I would report daily to Pete (my de facto trainer/coach) about that day’s kill, always in these terms: 60/4/7.5. That’s minutes, MPH and incline grade, and the 4/7.5 was generally a baseline. I turned in a few truly hardcore ones (especially at my weight): 67/4.3/8.5 and the like. It was awesome, and it burned a ton of calories.
The treadmill I used at Cox Media Group had a calorie counter on it and I drove myself hard to get that number to 500 by the time I was done. Understand that the treadmill didn’t know my age, gender, weight or anything else, so it was a semi-worthless figure — I was burning probably double that, if more advanced calorie counters can be trusted. Still, 500 is a big ol’ round number and I wanted it. So I went out and got it.
But even as helpful as that was, my nutrition was the key. I have never ate perfectly and I never will. I always overeat and I always need my workouts to make up the difference, but I’ve found if I eat semi-well, I can lose some weight. So, I’d shoot for 1850 net calories and more protein than carbs. That’s really it.
There were many a week I’d come strutting into church, pleased with the morning’s weigh-in. I had a string of weeks where I lost more than 3 pounds per week, a pretty ridiculous pace that I’m not sure I can repeat. But heck, I don’t necessarily have to repeat it — I don’t need to lose another 120 pounds. (Thank God.)
So, where am I now? I’ve gained a bit back, but me writing this is to challenge myself. Get back on it. I have everything I need to turn back into that monster, but the first step is to double tap the complacency that set in. Yes, that’s a strong way of putting it, but that’s what works for me. The Rock feels the same way.
I have to find the anger again, that sort of ridiculous motivation to push myself beyond the temptations to stop, or slow down, or take a break. The engine is warming back up, and I’m about to get on the highway again.
I’ll keep you posted.