Category: Brian’s Journey

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Finding Progress Beyond the Stopwatch in Running Endurance Improvements

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

I am finding progress beyond the stopwatch in running endurance improvements.

This morning greeted me with something that has become surprisingly rare lately.

No rain.

Better yet, the air was noticeably cooler than it had been for several days. It was chilly enough that I briefly wondered whether long sleeves might have been the wiser choice. After the recent stretch of hot, humid mornings, however, I was happy to accept a little cool weather without complaint.

As soon as I woke up, I headed out for my usual run.

Within a few minutes, my body warmed up, and so did the weather. Nashville apparently believes seasons can change during a single run. What began as “perhaps I need a jacket” quickly became “short sleeves would have been perfect.”

Unfortunately, ideal running weather did not magically produce an ideal running pace.

I missed my target.

Looking back, I probably should have seen it coming. Around this time of year, morning temperatures can climb ten degrees within a surprisingly short period. Since I usually finish my runs before 8:00 a.m., it is remarkable how quickly the weather transforms.

Apparently, summer in Nashville believes in making dramatic entrances.

Next time, I may pay closer attention to the hourly forecast instead of simply checking the temperature when I wake up. Waiting a little longer before heading out might actually make clothing choices and pacing a bit easier.

Fortunately, today’s run was only five kilometers. Had it been my usual Saturday 10K, the changing conditions would have become much more noticeable by the later kilometers. Also, I have more energy than before after running. I must have gained my running endurance.

After returning home, I moved on to my resistance training.

There was better news waiting there.

This morning, I increased my pull-up total to twenty-five.

I was particularly pleased because many of my strength exercises have received less attention lately. Summer has a habit of replacing gym sessions with lawn mowing, and anyone who has pushed a mower across a steep backyard knows that yard work has a remarkable way of volunteering as leg day.

Still, progress is progress.

Perhaps the biggest change I have noticed this year is the effect of my anemia treatment. For years, I simply assumed that feeling tired was normal. Since beginning treatment, I have noticeably more endurance and energy throughout my workouts.

I admit I have complained more than once about having to visit the hematologist. Medical appointments are rarely anyone’s favorite hobby.

But credit belongs where it is due.

The treatment is making a real difference.

No, I did not meet my target running pace today.

On the other hand, I completed twenty-five pull-ups, something I could not have imagined not very long ago.

That is one of the lessons fitness keeps teaching me.

If you judge every workout by only one number, you’ll miss many of your victories.

Some days, the stopwatch wins.

Other days, the pull-up bar quietly reminds you just how far you’ve already come.

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A Rainy Sunday, Extra Sleep, and the Never-Ending Weekend Yard Work Routine

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

After yesterday’s unexpected skunk adventure and my regular Saturday 10-kilometer run, I decided that my body deserved a little extra kindness. The plan was simple: go to bed a bit earlier than usual and allow myself an extra hour of sleep. Reality, as it often does, negotiated different terms. Today is my weekend yard work routine.

I only managed to get to bed about thirty minutes early, but even that turned out to help. I let my wife know that I planned to sleep later than normal so she wouldn’t wonder whether I had mysteriously disappeared overnight.

My wife is an impressively early riser. By the time I normally wake up, she has often already finished a remarkable amount of work.

While I take care of mowing our steep backyard, she tackles everything the mower cannot reach. She edges the lawn, pulls weeds around the flower beds, and clears the narrow areas along the sides and back of the house. It is work that never seems to end, especially during a Nashville summer.

This year has been particularly rainy, which means the weeds have been thriving with almost suspicious enthusiasm.

Even when the grass is still damp, my wife heads outside to keep it under control. It’s a weekend yard work routine. Experience has taught us that weeds are excellent opportunists. Ignore them for a few weeks, and they begin behaving as though they have inherited the property.

We learned that lesson firsthand.

One year, my wife wasn’t feeling well and had to skip yard work for about a month. When she finally recovered, her first weekend back outside turned into a two- or three-hour battle with weeds that had clearly mistaken her absence for permanent retirement.

Since then, she has adopted a much more effective strategy.

Never give the weeds a chance.

Eventually, my extra sleep came to an end, not because of an alarm clock, but because the sound of the piano gently awakened me.

Apparently, after attending a wedding recently, my wife felt inspired to practice again.

There are certainly worse ways to wake up.

By the time I climbed out of bed, the rain had already begun.

It continued for most of the day and is expected to last into the evening. Fortunately, tomorrow’s forecast looks much more promising. The morning should be surprisingly cool, with relatively low humidity by Nashville standards.

That sounds like nearly perfect running weather.

Sometimes the most productive day is not the one filled with accomplishments.

Sometimes it is the one that gives your body a chance to recover, your garden a good soaking, and your weeds just enough confidence to think they are winning.

Tomorrow, we’ll remind them otherwise.

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A Skunk, an Early Wake-Up Call, and a Humid 10K Run

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

By this evening, I was thoroughly exhausted because of an early wake-up call.

That is not especially unusual after my regular Saturday 10-kilometer run, but today came with a few unexpected complications. The weather turned noticeably hotter and far more humid, and my carefully planned morning began with a visitor who was not on my schedule.

A skunk.

Few things will get your attention before sunrise quite like your phone ringing because a skunk has taken up residence near your front door.

Early this morning, my wife called while she was returning from her run. A skunk had wandered in front of our entrance, and she quite reasonably decided that sharing the sidewalk with it was a terrible idea. Instead of risking a close encounter and an unforgettable fragrance, she asked me to open the garage door so she could enter the house from another direction.

I was more than happy to help.

I was just less enthusiastic about being awake.

Under our front porch is a small opening that has long served as a cozy home for various wildlife. Years ago, several groundhogs lived there. I had not seen them for quite some time and assumed the little underground apartment had become vacant.

Apparently, the local real estate market had other plans.

A skunk has evidently decided that the former groundhog residence is an excellent place to live. I suppose one creature’s abandoned property is another creature’s dream home.

Unfortunately, the phone call arrived about an hour before my alarm was set to ring.

I briefly considered returning to sleep. My brain even presented a compelling argument in favor of the pillow. Unfortunately, once I am fully awake, negotiations with sleep rarely end in my favor.

So I admitted defeat.

I climbed out of bed, put on my running clothes, and headed out for my Saturday 10K considerably earlier than planned.

The run itself went well enough, but the combination of lost sleep, rising temperatures, and Nashville’s legendary humidity gradually caught up with me. By evening, I could feel every kilometer and every missing hour of sleep.

Fortunately, the solution is refreshingly uncomplicated.

Tonight, I plan to go to bed a little earlier than usual and let sleep do what no amount of determination can replace.

Running teaches discipline.

Skunks, apparently, teach flexibility.

Sometimes the day’s training begins long before the first step of the run.

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Recovery Is Training Too: Listening to My Body After a Long Run

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

Today has been pleasantly relaxing, not because I have been idle, but because everything has gone according to plan. A recovery after a long run is important.

Most of my chores are finished, and I even made up the weighted squat holds that I skipped yesterday.

Normally, I prefer not to miss a scheduled workout. However, after yesterday’s 10-kilometer run, I was simply exhausted. Between summer yard work, regular training, and the occasional surprise from the weather—or even one poor night’s sleep—my body had clearly voted against any additional exercise.

When your body casts a unanimous vote, it is usually wise not to overrule it.

So, after a brief consultation with my most important training partner—my own body—I decided to skip the workout.

Today was a different story.

By this morning, I felt refreshed enough to make up the missed exercises. Sundays are usually reserved for lighter activities anyway. That lighter schedule gives my body time to recover from a week of work, running, and whatever landscaping projects decide to appear in the yard. After a Saturday 10K, I generally welcome the opportunity to slow down.

Ironically, because I had skipped yesterday’s strength session, I had enough energy to comfortably complete it today.

One lesson I continue to learn is that improvement and recovery are not always the same thing.

Treating my anemia has certainly helped my running. I have more energy, and my pace has steadily improved. Unfortunately, treatment does not magically speed up recovery.

Part of the challenge comes from my kidney condition. Since I need to limit my protein intake, I cannot simply increase my nutrition the way many athletes do after strenuous exercise. Building strength and recovering well are not just about muscles—they also depend on keeping the body’s vital organs healthy. Fitness is a balancing act, and sometimes restraint is just as important as effort.

Tomorrow’s weather forecast has already introduced the next challenge.

Rain appears to be moving in, so the earlier I start my morning run, the better my chances of staying dry. Unlike today, when I happily remained in bed for an extra hour, tomorrow morning will require considerably more discipline.

Apparently, even the weather enjoys testing my commitment.

Still, that’s part of the routine.

Some days, the challenge is running farther. Other days, it’s knowing when to rest. And occasionally, the greatest athletic achievement is convincing yourself to leave a warm bed before sunrise.

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When Staying Healthy Means Trying Not to Lose Weight

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

Most people spend the summer trying to lose a few pounds. I spend it trying not to. lose weight. I have a kidney disease, and maintaining weight in kidney disease is hard.

Every year, as the weather warms up, I find myself facing the same challenge: keeping my weight where it belongs. It sounds almost unfair to complain about losing weight, but everybody has their own peculiar set of problems, and this one happens to be mine.

Part of the reason is simple.

I have maintained relatively high muscle mass for my age by exercising consistently for many years. After my stroke, I became even more committed to staying active. At first glance, that sounds like a wonderful success story.

The catch is that muscle is expensive.

Not financially, thankfully, but metabolically. Muscle requires energy every hour of every day, whether I’m running, mowing the lawn, or quietly reading a book. It is like employing a team of energetic workers who insist on being paid three meals a day.

Summer only makes the challenge greater.

Our backyard includes a steep lawn that requires several hours of mowing. Altogether, it usually takes about five hours of work, although I wisely divide it over two days. Add regular strength training and my running schedule, and my body becomes a remarkably efficient calorie-burning machine.

Unfortunately, increasing my food intake is not as straightforward as it sounds.

Because of my kidney condition, I cannot simply eat whatever I want. My diet requires careful moderation. I have to limit protein, avoid eating excessive amounts of potassium-rich foods, and keep phosphate intake under control as well, rather than eliminating everything; we aim to maintain a balanced diet so that no single nutrient becomes excessive.

Even with careful planning, maintaining my weight remains surprisingly difficult.

This morning offered another small reminder of how unpredictable life can be.

I woke up earlier than usual, only to discover it was raining. Rather than racing the weather, I decided the bed was temporarily winning the negotiation and stayed there until my alarm sounded.

By then, almost miraculously, the rain had stopped.

I hurried outside for my run, hoping to finish before the next shower arrived. Fortunately, I accomplished both goals. I hit my target pace and avoided the rain.

Technically.

The humidity, however, had other ideas.

By the time I returned home, I was completely soaked anyway. Apparently, Nashville’s weather makes umbrellas seem merely decorative.

After peeling off my thoroughly saturated running clothes, I stepped onto the scale.

To my relief, I had gained just over two pounds.

I am still below my preferred weight range, but at least I am moving in the right direction. Considering how much energy disappears into running, yard work, and everyday exercise, I have learned to celebrate small victories wherever I can find them.

Sometimes that victory is a faster run.

Sometimes it finishes before the rain arrives.

And sometimes, rather surprisingly, it is simply watching the number on the scale move upward.

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Lessons from a Difficult 10K Run

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

Today I got lessons from a difficult 10K Run. I usually run first thing in the morning because Nashville’s weather quickly becomes unfriendly to runners.

Even by 7:30 a.m., the air can feel remarkably heavy. It is not always because of rain. More often, the culprit is humidity. Once the temperature climbs above 70°F and humidity approaches—or exceeds—90%, the atmosphere transforms into something that feels almost tangible. It is less like running through air and more like trying to jog through warm pudding.

Saturday is my regular 10-kilometer running day.

Unless there is a snowstorm, thunderstorm, or a family event—which, for some reason, always seems to choose Saturday—I stick to that schedule. Consistency has become one of the most valuable parts of my training.

Since beginning treatment for anemia, my body has felt noticeably lighter during my runs. The improvement has been encouraging. Even so, there are still mornings when exhaustion appears without an invitation.

Today was one of those mornings.

From the very beginning, my legs felt unusually heavy. Every kilometer demanded more effort than it should have, and the pace that normally feels comfortable seemed frustratingly out of reach. By the time I finished, I was more than a minute behind my target pace and completely exhausted.

The strange part was that I hadn’t expected it.

Summer naturally brings more physical work around the house, especially lawn mowing, which is more exercise than many people give it credit for. Still, I had mowed on Thursday, so I assumed I had fully recovered by Saturday morning.

Apparently, my body had other opinions.

As I looked over my to-do list later in the day, I found myself trying to solve the mystery. Everything had seemed to be going well this week. I had slept well, eaten well, and generally felt healthy. Yet my run told a completely different story.

Perhaps that is one of the most humbling lessons running teaches.

Our bodies are wonderfully complex. They do not always explain themselves. Sometimes they perform beyond expectations, and other times they quietly remind us that recovery is not something we can schedule with the precision of a calendar appointment.

Instead of dwelling on the disappointing run, I moved on to the rest of my day’s tasks. One by one, I finished everything I had planned before our grocery shopping trip.

There is a special satisfaction in checking the final item off a to-do list. It means that once we return home, I can spend the rest of the evening doing something every runner eventually learns to appreciate.

Absolutely nothing.

After all, rest is not the reward for hard work.

Sometimes, it is part of the training itself.

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A Small Victory on the Running Trail: Beating My Target Pace by Seven Seconds

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

This morning, I finally achieved something I had been chasing for several runs. I beat my target pace.

To someone who does not run, seven seconds might sound insignificant. To a runner who has been stubbornly chasing a goal, however, seven seconds can feel like winning an Olympic medal… or at least earning the right to enjoy breakfast with a little extra satisfaction.

The weather certainly decided to cooperate today.

Relative humidity was around 20%, a dramatic improvement from the previous week. Here in Nashville, humidity regularly climbs above 90%, making the air feel as though someone forgot to wring it out. This morning, however, the air was crisp and refreshing. It was actually cool enough that I felt a slight chill when I started running, a welcome change from feeling as though I were jogging through warm soup.

One tool that has become surprisingly valuable is the ASICS Runner app. I have it announce my pace at regular intervals so I can make adjustments while I run, rather than discovering my mistakes after I’ve already finished.

I even changed the settings to kilometers instead of miles. Since announcements come more frequently, I receive feedback sooner, giving me more opportunities to adjust my pace before bad habits settle in. Sometimes success isn’t about running harder; it’s simply about getting better information sooner.

As I approached the final quarter kilometer, I checked my pace. I may beat my target pace.

I was ahead by exactly one second.

One second is an amusing amount of confidence. It is just enough to make you optimistic, and just a little too much to make you nervous.

Then I remembered yesterday’s disappointing finish, when I lost precious seconds right at the end. That memory was all the motivation I needed. I pushed harder over the final stretch and crossed the finish line seven seconds ahead of my target pace.

Those extra six seconds may not sound like much, but they represent progress.

If I can repeat today’s performance on Friday, I’ll be back on track toward setting new personal bests. Running has taught me that improvement rarely arrives in dramatic leaps. More often, it comes disguised as a handful of seconds, earned through consistency, patience, and the willingness to keep trying after yesterday didn’t go as planned.

So today, I’m happy.

Not because I ran a perfect race, but because I proved that yesterday’s disappointment was simply another step toward today’s success.

Sometimes, progress is measured not in miles, but in seconds.

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Running with Anemia: Learning Patience One Kilometer at a Time

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

My run this morning ended in disappointment, which is unfortunate because for most of the journey, success seemed perfectly happy to accompany me.

I was either meeting or slightly ahead of my target pace almost the entire way. Then, during the final quarter kilometer, something happened. I slipped twenty seconds behind. I never felt as though I had slowed down, but the stopwatch is a brutally honest companion and apparently disagreed with my assessment.

Still, despite the disappointing finish, victory was clearly within reach. That alone is encouraging.

I have dealt with anemia since childhood. After receiving treatment for my kidney condition, my doctor reminded me that anemia also needed attention. I was treated for it after my brain stroke years ago, and once again I began treatment in February 2026.

What surprised me was just how much anemia affected my running.

Until this year, I had accepted many things as normal. Since beginning treatment, I have noticed that I have more energy during my runs. Gradually, my pace has improved. Of course, now that I have tasted improvement, I naturally want more. Human beings are wonderfully unreasonable in that way. Give us progress, and we immediately ask whether there is a faster version available.

Although my current pace is significantly better than before treatment, improvement has become more difficult. That is hardly surprising. Running, much like life, refuses to cooperate with our desire for perfectly straight lines. Progress is more like the stock market than an elevator. There are ups and downs, good days and bad days, and occasionally days when one wonders whether gravity has become stronger overnight.

Summer has also brought additional physical activity. Lawn mowing, for example, turns out to be an excellent way to discover muscles one never knew existed. It is entirely possible that I was simply more tired than I realized.

Fortunately, patience is one of the most important lessons that running teaches. Progress never arrives in a perfectly orderly fashion. Internal factors, external conditions, and simple fatigue all play their part.

So, despite this morning’s disappointment, I remain optimistic.

The next run offers another opportunity.

And next time, I intend to remember that a race is not finished until the finish line actually appears. The final quarter kilometer, as I discovered this morning, apparently has a mischievous sense of humor.

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Why Our New AC Unit Deserves a Medal

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

I have developed a new appreciation for our recently installed air conditioner. Summer has not even fully arrived, yet the humidity has already launched an aggressive campaign against the entire neighborhood, and our AC unit is bravely defending the home front.

We keep the house around 77°F. Since having a brain stroke, my body has become somewhat unreliable when it comes to regulating temperature. Large swings between hot and cold do not agree with me. Fortunately, this new air conditioner seems particularly talented at keeping humidity under control. The result is a remarkably comfortable house and one less thing for me to negotiate with each day.

Outside, however, is an entirely different story.

Humidity hovers close to 90%, and the air feels less like air and more like a warm, damp blanket. The temperature itself is not particularly high yet, but humidity has a way of turning ordinary weather into something resembling a steam room with birds.

As usual, I headed out for my scheduled 10-kilometer run. Humidity and I have an ongoing disagreement. It insists on making every activity more difficult, and I insist on pretending not to notice.

Needless to say, by the time I returned home, I was completely soaked. I had to change my shirt immediately before beginning my household chores. Vacuuming is considerably easier when one is not dripping across the floor like a malfunctioning garden sprinkler.

My wife and I previously lived in Canada and Oregon, so adjusting to Nashville’s climate required a period of negotiation. Oregon summers are pleasantly dry and comfortable, and the winters are relatively mild. We eventually moved to Nashville to be closer to family because my wife worried about my health.

Ironically, I think I have become healthier since the move.

We eat reasonably well, sleep properly, and exercise consistently. Gradually, my body has improved. I still have anemia, and I am currently receiving treatment for it, but overall, I feel much better than I did in the past.

If only Nashville’s humidity would cooperate.

Running and yard work would certainly be more enjoyable if the atmosphere did not resemble soup. Until then, I will continue my daily negotiations with the weather, while our heroic air conditioner quietly keeps civilization intact indoors.

Some heroes wear capes.

Others hum gently in the background and lower the humidity.

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Controlling Your Yard in the Rainy Season

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

The forecast had spoken, and as I lay in bed that morning, I had to admit: it had a point. Rain was already falling, which meant mowing was looking about as likely as a snowstorm in July. This is Nashville, though, so rain and thunderstorms come with the territory. Tornadoes, too, if you want to get really dramatic about it. Having grown up in the Midwest, I consider myself seasoned. Tornadoes and I have something of an understanding.

Here’s the thing about owning a house: it doesn’t care how busy you are. The weeds will grow with or without your blessing. My wife and I learned this the hard way one year when life got especially hectic, and she wasn’t feeling well. When she finally made it back outside after a few weeks, the yard had quietly turned into a small jungle. Not her finest gardening moment, and she will be the first to say so. Since then, she has been firm about the one rule that makes all the difference: catch weeds early, when they’re young and still apologetic about existing. A quick weekly pass takes almost no time at all. Let them settle in, and suddenly you’ve got yourself a whole Saturday project.

I try to do my part too, sneaking in weed patrol whenever I can, even around doctor’s appointments. Every little bit helps.

So there I was that morning, eyeing the sky. It looked gray and thoroughly committed to staying that way. But when I actually peered outside, the rain was barely a sprinkle. Just a gentle mist, really, the kind that barely counts. I thought, “I can work with this.” A little drizzle never hurt anyone. I pulled on my shoes, went outside, and got started on the front yard.

I lasted a few minutes before I heard it. Thunder. Not close, but close enough to make the point. There’s a line I’m willing to cross, and getting lightly rained on is one thing. Standing in a thunderstorm while pushing a metal mower is quite another. I went back inside just in time for the skies to properly open up, as if the rain had been holding back just to prove it could.

Thursday is my next hope. The forecast isn’t exactly promising, but then, neither was this morning. You just never know until you look outside. Sometimes you get lucky.

Until then, may your skies be clear and your weeds be few. Or at least short.

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