Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke
Let’s take a moment to appreciate mornings when the universe actually cooperates. This morning was one of those rare gifts: perfect shorts weather, not a raindrop in sight despite the forecast’s best threats, and barely a whisper of wind. In other words, ideal running conditions. the kind that make you feel like you’ve got rocket boosters hidden in your sneakers.
And rocket-boosted I felt. My pace numbers agreed, which is always satisfying (nothing worse than feeling fast and then looking at your watch in despair).
I’ve been on a genuine upswing with my running pace lately, and I’ve been thinking about why. The answer, I’m fairly certain, is muscle conditioning. A few years back, I added strength training to my regular running, and, honestly, summers nearly broke me. Running, lawn mowing, and resistance exercise all at once? Even a machine would protest. So last year I got smart about it: I split my workouts into focused sessions — arms one day, something else the next. That small tweak changed everything. I was finally able to keep training through the heat without melting into the sidewalk.
The results have been real. My body fat percentage is now below 13%. I’m leaner. I’m stronger. I can feel it in the way I move.
11 Years Ago
Here’s the part of the story that gives all of this meaning: I had a brain stroke. When it happened, I was in a coma for the first 11 days, and then in bed for nearly two months, mostly sleeping, mostly still. By the time I moved to a long-term care facility, I had lost all the muscle I’d ever built. And I don’t just mean I was out of shape. I had to relearn everything: how to walk, how to move my hand, how to eat.
That first year, my wife and I walked every single day. I had a walker. I had to rest every five minutes. My wife pushed me, gently and persistently, to keep moving my legs. Slowly, those shuffling walks became a routine. Then a habit. Then 1.3 miles. Then, after my wife bought me my first real pair of running shoes, something that started to resemble actual running.
By the time we moved to Nashville, I was jogging, slowly, but jogging. Over the years that followed, I built myself up until I could run 10 kilometers. My wife told me I should be very proud of that, and she’s right. Surviving a brain stroke is something. Getting back to this is something else entirely.
Now I’m working on pace.
This morning, I finished 16 seconds ahead of my target. I then knocked out two sets of pull-ups, a set of 10 and a set of 8, which is exactly what I was aiming for.
Not bad for a guy who once had to rest every five minutes.
Keep moving, keep surprising yourself.