Month: August 2026

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Building Muscle With Kidney Disease: A Recovery Story

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

After this morning’s mowing session, my garden’s cardio equivalent, I discovered something wonderful: I’ve finally hit the exact middle of my target weight range. After months of struggling to keep weight up, this feels like winning the wellness lottery.

Here’s the thing about recovery: it’s not linear. Three years ago, I couldn’t ask my brain to move my legs. My brain wasn’t taking calls. Stroke will do that to you. For months, I relearned how to walk with a walker, then without it. Eventually, I progressed from walking to running to jogging—each milestone a small revolution. Over the last 2-3 years, I’ve poured intentional energy into rebuilding muscle through resistance training, something my body desperately needed.

But here’s where it gets tricky: kidney problems and muscle-building are locked in a standoff. Building muscle demands protein; kidney disease demands I restrict it. Add summer yard chores—the kind that demand serious physical output—and weight maintenance becomes a high-wire act. I cycle through foods, strategically balancing activity, intake, and the restrictions my kidneys kindly insist upon. Ironically, resistance training actually helps my kidneys, yet the muscle I gain makes weight maintenance exponentially harder.

Tomorrow’s weigh-in will be telling. History says the day after heavy yard work, the scale drops significantly. But for once, I have a buffer. For once, I don’t have to panic about dropping below my range. Recovery isn’t just physical. It’s learning to celebrate the small wins, building strength within constraints, and finding your rhythm when your body keeps changing the rules.

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A Slow 10K Run and the Importance of Looking at the Long Term

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

Today’s 10-kilometer run was… let’s just say it wasn’t destined to become a personal record. It was a slow 10k run.

The morning actually started quite well. There wasn’t much rain, the temperature felt reasonable, and I headed out thinking it might be a comfortable run. Then the sun woke up. By the time I finished my first five kilometers, it seemed determined to remind everyone that it was still July in Tennessee. The temperature climbed, the humidity rose with it, and before long the entire route felt like a giant steam room.

With every kilometer, I could feel the heat draining my energy. My pace gradually slowed as if someone had quietly turned down the power on my legs. After several cooler mornings following the Independence Day heat wave, my body had become accustomed to more pleasant conditions. Returning to hot, humid weather felt like an unpleasant surprise. Running through that humidity was like jogging inside a sauna without the relaxing music. So, I briefly considered cutting the run short.

Yesterday’s run, however, had already been interrupted by a thunderstorm. I didn’t want to make a habit of stopping whenever conditions became difficult. There are certainly times when stopping is the right decision; lightning is one of them, but today’s challenge was simply uncomfortable, not unsafe.

So I kept going. I tried pushing harder. The weather responded by pushing back. In the end, I never found the extra speed I was hoping for.

What I did find was the finish line. Sometimes that is enough. One lesson running keeps teaching me is that improvement is rarely linear. Some days everything seems effortless. Other days every stride feels heavier than the last.

If I judged my progress by today’s run alone, I might conclude I wasn’t improving at all. Fortunately, one run tells only a tiny part of the story.

See The Improvement in a Long Period

When I compare where I am today with where I was a year ago, the difference is unmistakable. My endurance has improved. My consistency has improved. Even my recovery has improved.

The daily fluctuations matter far less than the long-term trend. That thought makes difficult days much easier to accept. Tomorrow is my scheduled rest day before beginning another week of training. The stopwatch will have another opportunity to challenge me.

And I’ll have another opportunity to prove that showing up consistently matters more than having one perfect run.

Hopefully…

the weather cooperates next time.

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A Cooler Morning and a Faster Run: Progress After the Heat Wave

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

This morning began with a small mistake. In my enthusiasm to get out the door, I completely forgot to put on my running headband. It wasn’t a disaster, but sweat kept trying to find its way into my eyes. A headband is one of those things you hardly notice, well, until you forget it.

The good news was that the weather more than made up for my oversight. After the intense heat around Independence Day, temperatures finally dropped. The heat wave wasn’t limited to the South, either. My wife mentioned that one of her colleagues in New York had been dealing with similarly extreme temperatures. For me, the cooler weather felt like a gift.

I don’t take holidays off from running, so I still completed my regular 10-kilometer run on the Fourth of July. Unfortunately, I ran in oppressive heat and humidity. Every kilometer felt like a negotiation with the weather, and it was one of the most difficult runs I had experienced in quite some time.

Today’s conditions were completely different. The cooler air made running noticeably more comfortable, and my pace improved immediately. I still didn’t reach my target pace, but I was faster than in every run I completed during last week’s heat wave. That counts as progress.

Weather affects every runner, but it hits me even harder because of my medical history.

Several years ago, I experienced a hemorrhagic stroke affecting my cerebellum. Since then, my body has struggled to regulate temperature as effectively as it once did. Hot, humid conditions are much more physically demanding for me than they used to be, so dramatic weather changes can significantly affect how I perform.

Knowing that helps me keep my expectations realistic. Some days, I am competing against the stopwatch. Other days, I am competing against the weather. The important thing is recognizing the difference.

Today’s run reminded me that last week’s slower times were not necessarily a sign that I was losing fitness. Sometimes your environment limits what your body can do, and the wisest response isn’t frustration but patience.

The cooler morning proved that the work I have been putting in is still paying off. I wasn’t as fast as I ultimately want to be. But I was faster than I was last week. And sometimes, that is exactly the evidence you need to know you are moving in the right direction. Tomorrow will bring another opportunity.

I’ll just try to remember one important piece of equipment before I leave the house.

The headband.

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When a Morning Run Meets a Summer Thunderstorm

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

This morning began with heavy rain tapping against the windows.

Instead of rushing outside, I reached for my weather app. According to the forecast, the rain should ease in about an hour. That sounded like a perfectly reasonable excuse to go back to sleep. So, I reset my alarm and happily returned to bed.

When I woke again, the house was quiet. The rain had stopped, or so I thought. I got dressed, laced up my running shoes, and headed out. Nashville’s weather has been a little unusual this year.

Normally, we receive plenty of rain from early spring into early summer, but this year’s rainy season seemed to arrive later than expected. June finally brought more regular rain, and even July has been filled with thunderstorms.

Earlier that morning, my wife had already gone for her run. She looked outside, decided the weather seemed good enough, and headed out with optimism. She came home completely soaked. Apparently, the weather had other plans.

I usually don’t let a little rain stop me either. When I started my run, the rain was still falling, but only lightly. I accepted that I would probably end up wet and settled into my normal pace.

Being soaked has never bothered me very much. Around the halfway point, however, the rain suddenly became much heavier. I briefly debated whether to turn around or keep going.

Every runner has that conversation with themselves.

“It’s only rain.”

“Maybe it will pass.”

“You’re already wet anyway.”

Then nature cast the deciding vote. A loud crack of thunder echoed across the sky. That ended the discussion immediately. Rain is merely inconvenient. Lightning is persuasive. I turned around and headed home. I didn’t complete my planned five kilometers, but I did manage to get part of the run finished before the weather took over.

Discipline is..

Sometimes we imagine discipline means refusing to stop. I think discipline also includes knowing when conditions have changed enough that continuing no longer makes sense. There will always be another morning to run. There doesn’t need to be another opportunity to test whether lightning can run faster than I can. I have no interest in discovering the answer to that question.

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Maintaining Weight with Chronic Kidney Disease: Every Pound Matters

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

Yesterday, I stepped on the scale and discovered that I had lost nearly three pounds.

For many people, that might sound like good news. Maintaining weight with chronic kidney disease can be challenging.

For me, it is exactly the opposite.

Maintaining a healthy weight has become one of the more challenging parts of living with chronic kidney disease. The difficulty is not simply eating more. It is eating more without eating the wrong things.

If I had no dietary restrictions, the solution would be fairly straightforward. After running, strength training, and mowing our steep backyard, I could simply increase my protein intake to help my body recover.

Unfortunately, protein is one of the nutrients my kidneys struggle to process.

That means every meal requires a balancing act.

Last year, after struggling to maintain my weight for quite some time, my nephrologist gave me permission to increase my daily protein intake slightly. Before then, I ate only about 36 grams of protein each day.

It was a welcome adjustment.

Even so, moderation remains essential.

Protein is only one part of the equation. Potassium, phosphorus, and sodium also require close attention. Foods that many people think of as healthy—such as bananas or melon—can become foods that I have to enjoy only occasionally.

Living with kidney disease often means making decisions that seem backward to everyone else.

Our current approach comes from years of careful adjustments.

When I suffered my brain hemorrhage, doctors also discovered that my kidneys had already deteriorated to Stage 5 chronic kidney disease—the point where dialysis or a kidney transplant often becomes necessary. No one could fully explain why my kidneys had declined so severely. I had always exercised regularly and paid close attention to my diet.

My wife and I refused to give up.

Working closely with my doctors, we gradually adjusted medications, refined my diet, and monitored my health as carefully as possible. Over time, my kidney function improved enough that I moved into Stage 3. Today, I generally fluctuate between Stage 3 and Stage 4.

That may not sound dramatic, but to us, it represents years of consistent effort.

My long-term goal is simple.

I hope to preserve my kidney function for as long as possible. Medical research continues to advance, and every year brings new possibilities. If I can keep my kidneys functioning well enough for long enough, future treatments may offer options that don’t exist today.

That thought gives me hope.

This morning brought some encouraging news.

I had regained nearly two of the three pounds I had lost yesterday, putting me right at the lower edge of my target weight range.

I would still like to gain a little more, but I no longer feel as though I am drifting into unhealthy territory.

Sometimes progress isn’t dramatic.

Sometimes it is simply watching the scale move in the right direction while knowing that you protected your health along the way.

Tomorrow morning, I’ll step on the scale again.

Hopefully, it decides to continue cooperating.

After all, the scale and I have been negotiating for quite a few years now, and I would appreciate it if it finally became a little more reasonable.

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A Quiet Independence Day: The Joy of Taking Care of Things

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

We successfully survived both the Independence Day holiday and a week-long heat wave.

Looking ahead, next week’s forecast promises temperatures nearly ten degrees cooler. That may not sound dramatic on paper, but after several days of running through Nashville’s summer heat, it feels almost luxurious.

I’m looking forward to seeing whether my morning runs become a little more enjoyable.

Interestingly, my wife mentioned that one of her colleagues in New York had temperatures even higher than ours. It seems this year’s summer has decided not to limit itself to the South.

While many people celebrated Independence Day with fireworks and large gatherings, we took a much quieter approach.

Crowds have never really been our favorite way to celebrate, and neither of us has ever felt a strong desire to launch fireworks into the sky.

Instead, we raised our American flag.

For us, that small tradition carries meaning.

We try to treat the flag with respect by following the proper customs for displaying and caring for it. In many ways, that reflects how we approach most of the things we own.

We believe that if something serves us well, it deserves to be cared for.

Our computers often remain with us for well over a decade. My wife’s car recently celebrated its twentieth birthday, and it still runs beautifully because she faithfully changes the oil, takes it in for regular maintenance, and keeps it clean.

Taking care of things is usually less exciting than buying new ones.

It is also much less expensive.

After putting up the flag, we moved on to another holiday tradition of our own.

Cooking.

My wife prepared another batch of Nashville hot chicken, a recipe she learned after we moved here. It has become one of our favorite ways to enjoy a little local flavor without standing in long restaurant lines.

Meanwhile, I conducted another small kitchen experiment.

This week, I increased the baking temperature for both our pizza and our pastry bites.

The results were noticeably better.

That success actually began with an entirely different hobby.

My wife had purchased an oven thermometer while experimenting with polymer clay because she wanted to know the oven’s true temperature rather than relying solely on the control dial.

What we discovered was surprisingly simple.

Our oven wasn’t running too cool.

It was simply taking much longer to reach the target temperature than we had assumed.

For years, we had trusted the oven’s suggested five-minute preheat time. Once we began waiting until the thermometer confirmed the correct temperature, everything improved.

The pastry bites puffed beautifully.

The pizza developed a much better crust.

Sometimes the solution isn’t changing the recipe.

It’s simply giving the oven enough time to do its job.

Tomorrow’s weather looks cooler, which means I am already looking forward to my morning run.

After this week’s heat, ten fewer degrees almost sounds like nature’s way of saying, “You’re welcome.”

I’ll happily take it.

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Making the Most of a Day Filled with Doctor Appointments

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

Today was one of those days when my calendar seemed determined to outwork me.

I had not one, but two medical appointments: my annual eye examination and my hematology follow-up.

The hematology visits are relatively new. I began treatment in February, and thankfully the results have been encouraging. My energy has improved noticeably, and my running has benefited as well. Even so, my doctor believes I should continue treatment, so the appointments remain a regular part of my schedule.

The good news is that they are no longer every two weeks.

Now I only need to go every three weeks, which feels like meaningful progress.

Unfortunately, the appointments almost always land on Thursdays.

Thursday also happens to be lawn-mowing day.

Add an eye examination, a dental visit, or any other appointment, and my carefully organized schedule suddenly starts resembling an overbooked airport.

Last time, things became even more interesting because I had a nephrology appointment scheduled on the same day.

Those visits happen only once every quarter, but they were arranged back-to-back with another specialist. Since my wife couldn’t leave work during quarter-end closing, I took an Uber between appointments.

As an accountant, July is one of her busiest times of the year. Quarter-end waits for no one.

Originally, I thought I might go directly from today’s eye appointment to my hematologist.

Instead, I discovered there was a several-hour gap between the two.

At first, I considered simply waiting somewhere nearby, but my wife had a much better suggestion.

“Go home.”

She was absolutely right.

Rather than spending several hours sitting in a waiting room or a coffee shop, I was able to return home and actually accomplish something.

I bottled a batch of kombucha, worked through several household tasks, and crossed a number of items off my to-do list before it was time to leave again.

Having only a limited amount of time created an interesting sense of urgency.

Sometimes Parkinson’s Law—that work expands to fill the time available—works in reverse. Give yourself only a couple of hours, and suddenly every minute has a purpose.

By the time I headed to my second appointment, I felt surprisingly satisfied with how much I had managed to accomplish.

By the time I returned home afterward…

I was exhausted.

Running back and forth between appointments, errands, and chores may not qualify as an official endurance sport, but by the end of the day it certainly felt like one.

Still, I can’t complain too much. The appointments are helping. My health continues to improve, and that’s worth a few busy Thursdays.

Besides, next Thursday’s challenge will probably be waiting for me in the backyard.

The lawn never seems to schedule around my calendar.

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Our New Air Conditioner Passes Its First Nashville Summer Test

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

Every household has its own definition of the perfect indoor climate.

According to my wife, ours has officially reached “ideal resin temperature.”

She enjoys working with UV resin, and apparently our new air conditioner has created nearly perfect conditions for her projects. She did point out one small drawback, though. While it is excellent for resin, it may be a little warm for polymer clay.

Apparently, crafting has its own weather forecast.

This week has become the first real test for our new air conditioning system, and so far it has passed with flying colors.

Summer in Nashville is rarely subtle. Hot temperatures are expected, but the humidity is what truly makes the season memorable. Once the thermometer climbs above 90°F, simply walking outside can feel like stepping into a warm cloud that has no intention of letting go.

Our house presents an interesting challenge.

Because the lower floor is partially underground. That naturally keeps it cooler than the upstairs, although even it begins to warm noticeably once outdoor temperatures climb well into the 90s.

We normally keep the upstairs thermostat set around 77°F.

Lower than that, and the downstairs—where both of our home offices are located—becomes uncomfortably cold.

For me, temperature is more than a matter of preference.

Since my brain stroke, my body has struggled to regulate temperature properly. It often feels as though my internal thermostat cannot quite decide what “comfortable” is supposed to feel like. Air-conditioned buildings that others find pleasantly cool can leave me feeling surprisingly cold.

Our current setup has turned out to be an excellent compromise.

The upstairs stays around 77°F, while the humidity remains close to 43%. Downstairs, the temperature settles into the low 70s, cool enough that both of us often wear long sleeves while working.

Our cat, however, has reached a different conclusion.

She generally prefers the upstairs.

Apparently, she has decided that warmer temperatures are better suited to important feline activities.

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Running in Nashville Humidity: When Finishing Is the Real Victory

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

Nashville’s famous humidity has returned. It arrived with all the subtlety of an uninvited guest who not only stays for dinner but also adjusts your thermostat. Let’s tell you that running in Nashville humidity is hard.

This year, the rainy season seemed to arrive later than usual, which means we are now enjoying the unique experience of combining heavy humidity with even higher summer temperatures. It is an impressive achievement by the weather, if not a particularly enjoyable one.

Running in these conditions is… memorable.

Every breath feels as though I am inhaling warm steam from an oven. The air is so thick that it almost seems to have texture. Instead of cutting through the atmosphere, it feels as though I am negotiating with it.

By the time I had run a short distance, my shirt was completely soaked.

At one point I honestly wondered whether I was sweating that much or whether the humidity had simply decided to wear my clothes for me.

Running through a Nashville summer can sometimes feel remarkably similar to jogging inside a sauna, except the scenery is better.

Not surprisingly, I finished more than a minute behind my target pace.

That was disappointing.

I have spent a long time gradually improving my running speed, and I always hope to inch a little closer to my next goal. Lately, however, the weather has been making that progress considerably more difficult.

On mornings like this, I remind myself of something that is easy to forget.

The most important part is showing up.

Speed matters.

Improvement matters.

But neither of those things happens without consistency.

When I think back a few years, I realize just how much progress I have already made. I have improved my pace by more than a minute per kilometer. That is not the kind of improvement that happens overnight. It is built one ordinary run at a time, including the frustrating ones.

Sometimes training is about setting a personal best.

Other times, it is simply refusing to let miserable weather decide whether you will run at all.

Today’s run belonged firmly in the second category.

There was one final piece of good news.

The 10-kilometer run did not take off much weight this time. I lost only a fraction of a pound compared to yesterday, which means my carefully negotiated relationship with the bathroom scale remains intact.

Even better…

Cake is still on the menu after our weekly grocery trip.

Sometimes the greatest reward for surviving a humid summer run is not a faster pace.

Sometimes it’s dessert.

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Home Repairs Continue: Dehumidifiers, Tripped Breakers, and One Unimpressed Cat

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

Our bathroom renovation has entered its next chapter.

Unfortunately, it is not yet the chapter titled Finished.

The restoration crew returned this morning to check the moisture level in the floor joists. The good news is that the wood is steadily drying. The less encouraging news is that it is not quite dry enough for the repairs to continue.

That is summer in Nashville for you.

This time of year, the combination of heat and humidity seems determined to slow down anything that needs to dry. Fortunately, the restoration crew brought in a second dehumidifier to speed things along.

With a little luck, tomorrow will finally be dry enough to move forward.

Of course, every improvement project seems determined to introduce at least one new surprise.

Not long after the second dehumidifier was installed, I noticed that our water dispenser had mysteriously stopped working.

After talking with my wife, we discovered that the refrigerator downstairs had also lost power.

Apparently, two industrial dehumidifiers, a large fan, and our home’s electrical circuits were having a disagreement.

Fortunately, the explanation turned out to be much less dramatic than I first imagined.

One of the breakers had tripped.

After resetting it, everything came back to life. Water dispensers were working again, and the downstairs refrigerator resumed its normal duties as though nothing had happened.

The electrical system, it seems, was simply reminding us that every circuit has its limits.

The restoration crew also closed the bathroom door to keep humid air from entering while the machines worked.

It is a sensible idea.

The only downside is the noise.

Those dehumidifiers are astonishingly loud. Even with the bathroom door firmly closed, they produce a steady mechanical roar that can be heard throughout the house.

Now that there are two of them, the soundtrack has become considerably more enthusiastic.

Oddly enough, the loudest machines in the house have solved another problem entirely.

Normally, a closed door is an irresistible invitation for our cat to investigate.

Not this time.

One brief listen to the dehumidifiers was apparently enough to convince him that whatever mysteries lay beyond that door were someone else’s responsibility.

For perhaps the first time in history, loud industrial equipment has successfully defeated feline curiosity.

Home renovation continues to teach the same lesson.

Rarely does one problem travel alone.

Fortunately, neither do good solutions, nor patient contractors.

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