Category: Brian’s Journey

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Dressed Wrong for Every Appointment: A Day of Humidity, Air Conditioning, and Medical Checkups

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

Today turned out to be one of those days when my wardrobe seemed determined to disagree with my schedule. I dressed Wrong for Every Appointment.

My first mission was a trip to the dentist to have an old filling redone. When I left the house, I was pleased to see clear skies. The forecast suggested rain might arrive later. So I decided to play it safe and headed out wearing a cape and hoodie.

This was an excellent plan, provided I had been traveling through a cool mountain village rather than a Tennessee humidity chamber.

Although the temperature was not especially high, the air felt thick enough to swim through. By the time I arrived at the dentist’s office, I was thoroughly overheated. I made a strategic retreat to the restroom, where I attempted to remove at least some evidence of my battle with the atmosphere. Thankfully, the dental procedure itself went smoothly, and I escaped without incident. The walk home remained rain-free, but the humidity showed no intention of taking the day off.

Once home, I had about an hour before my hematology appointment. During that time, I brewed a fresh batch of kombucha tea and decided to correct my earlier wardrobe mistake by changing into shorts.

As it turns out, I had simply traded one problem for another.

The hematology clinic and laboratory appeared to be operating under the assumption that patients might spontaneously combust if the indoor temperature rose above refrigerator levels. The air conditioning was running at full strength, and I spent most of the appointment wondering whether I should have brought a winter coat.

The good news was that my red blood cell count remained high enough that I did not need an injection. I briefly entertained the hope that this might mean fewer appointments in the future. Unfortunately, the medical team had other ideas. Instead of graduating from follow-up visits. I was informed that they would like to see me again in three weeks rather than two.

Lesson Learned for today

By the end of the day, I had learned an important lesson: apparently, I am capable of dressing incorrectly for both a humid summer day and an aggressively air-conditioned medical office within a few hours.

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When You Skip Your Run for Waffles (Again)

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

Welcome back to another thrilling episode of “What Did I Do Instead of Running?” Answer: I made waffles. I skipped a run for waffles.

My wife had to head into the office that morning, and my visiting friend… was not a waffle enthusiast. Which I respect. It takes a certain kind of person to look at a warm, golden, perfectly crisp waffle and say “no thanks.” Anyway, I skipped my run (you saw that coming), but I did knock out my other exercises first before firing up the griddle. So really, I’m still winning. Mostly.

After everyone was fed (waffle-resistant guests included), we played more games until my wife returned home. Then my friend and his wife headed off to visit yet another mutual friend who, conveniently, lives remarkably close to us. Our neighborhood is apparently very popular. I seized the quiet moment to start cooking supper. My wife was quite hungry by the time she got back and had to wait a bit longer for the food to be ready. She was patient. The food was worth it. I’m choosing to believe both things.

Tomorrow, our guests head home right after breakfast. I’d love to send them off with more waffles, but we’ve run out of maple syrup. Tragically. I’ll figure out something else, because two mornings of waffles is probably enough waffles for any friendship. Depending on when they get back tonight, we might squeeze in our traditional Monday online gaming session with another friend. Time will tell.

As for me, I’ll be a little sad to see them go. Our cat, however, will not be. She has been in full witness-protection mode since their arrival, appearing only occasionally to confirm that yes, she still lives here, and no, she does not approve of guests. She’d probably warm up to them eventually. Probably. But it turns out two days isn’t quite long enough for a cat to reconsider her introversion.

Until next time, may your maple syrup never run out at the worst possible moment.

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Lost in the Park: A Weekend Walk Gone (Darkly) Right

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

Let me tell you the story of a weekend gone (darkly) right.

There’s a particular kind of joy that comes with having good friends visit. It’s the kind where you stay up just long enough to say a proper hello and then sensibly agree to tackle actual conversation in the morning. That’s exactly what happened when my friend and his wife rolled in late last night. I got them settled, said good night, and was horizontal approximately eleven seconds later.

Morning, however, arrived with purpose. I fired up the waffle iron and poured rounds of kombucha while everyone eased into the day. Post-breakfast, we broke out the board games my friend had brought, settled into the comfortable rhythm of people who genuinely like each other, and let the hours drift by agreeably until it was time for our weekly pizza ritual.

Now, pizza at our house is a full creative endeavor, but this week we adapted the menu to accommodate my friend’s dietary restrictions. Out went the bulgogi sauce and the spicier peppers and cauliflower; in came alfredo. I’ll admit I mourned the cauliflower; we have a special relationship, but the pizza was genuinely delicious. Sometimes constraints bring out the best in us. Or at least in our pizza.

After supper, the sun had finally stopped being aggressive about it, and the evening called for a walk. We drove to a nearby park we’d visited before and set out on a trail loop. One mile in, however, it became clear that ‘evening walk’ had quietly turned into ‘mild night hike.’ The light was going fast. We made the sensible decision to turn around rather than trust the trail to loop back on its own schedule.

Sensible decision, unfortunate execution. Somewhere in the growing dark, we missed the turn that led back to the car. We walked. And walked. The park got darker. We walked some more. Eventually, we had gone considerably farther than we’d come, which is the universe’s way of confirming that yes, we had indeed missed our turn. After some backtracking, we found it.

By the time we reached the car, the park was officially closed, and the gate was closed. There was a brief, wordless moment where we all looked at each other. Then we pulled up, the gate obligingly swung open on its own, and we drove home in the satisfied silence of people who had earned their sleep.

Which we very much did.

Until next time, may your trails be well-lit and your gates always auto-open.

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When Your Guest Arrives at Midnight, And the Cat Decides

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

The universe cooperated beautifully this morning. I got my run in early, the temperatures stayed reasonable, and I returned home with just enough energy to tackle the pre-guest checklist before my friend arrives today. Although I am finding out that our guest arrives at midnight.

And what a visit this has been, a long time coming. We go all the way back to university. We had the kind of friendship that’s survived decades through a rather impressive number of late-night online gaming sessions. The last attempt at an in-person reunion was foiled by COVID. My wife got passed by her college, which put a hard stop to plans faster than you can say “positive test.”

This time, no illness. Just… logistics.

My wife couldn’t arrange a day off. It’s the quarterly audit that kicks off next week, and apparently, spreadsheets wait for no one. She was a good sport about it, though slightly droopy-eyed by 9 pm. This is what happens when you’re a dedicated early-morning runner. She wakes up with the sunrise, which means she also answers to it at bedtime. By the time my phone buzzed with the update, friend running late, won’t arrive until nearly midnight, she was already fading into the couch cushions like a very tired houseplant.

So the plan: I’ll stay up, play the gracious host, get everyone settled, and slip off to bed once the midnight adventure is complete.

Our Cat and Strangers

The real wildcard, of course, is the cat. She’s perfectly at ease with us, a regal creature of established routine, but guests are a rare phenomenon in this household. She will either vanish into the deepest closet until Tuesday, or she’ll decide that a visitor simply means two more hands available for ear scratches. There is no in-between with this cat. I am genuinely curious which version we’ll get.

Stay tuned for the verdict and whether I manage to stay awake past 11.

Until next time, may your houseguests arrive on time and your cats be sociable.

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When the Air Feels Heavier Than the Workout

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

Let me tell you just how humid it has been outside lately.

We had a relatively mild spring this year, but Nashville has finally decided to remind everyone where they live. The weather is settling into its familiar pattern of heat, humidity, and the constant possibility that the sky might suddenly become dramatic.

The humidity has reached the point where stepping outdoors feels less like entering the atmosphere and more like walking into a warm, damp sponge. The air seems to push against you from every direction. It is almost as if the weather is trying to give you a hug that you never asked for.

Of course, humidity is not an acceptable excuse for skipping a run. At least not in my book.

So I headed out as usual.

One pleasant surprise was that I managed to avoid getting rained on. That may not sound like much, but after several consecutive days of rain, it felt like a small victory. The recent weather had kept me indoors more than I would have liked, limiting many of my usual outdoor activities.

To be fair, this is not unusual for Nashville. Rain, thunderstorms, and tornado warnings are all part of the local experience. Summer here often feels like living inside a weather forecast.

Unfortunately, the absence of rain did not mean pleasant running conditions. The air remained thick and heavy, making every step feel slightly more difficult than it should have. I suspect the humidity played a significant role in my less-than-impressive performance. Sometimes the weather reminds you that it has a vote in your workout results.

Thankfully, my other morning exercises went much better.

I had also been concerned about our lawn. With so many rainy days, I had not been able to mow for a while, and the grass was beginning to look a little too enthusiastic about growing. Even after the rain stopped, the lawn remained damp because the humidity hovered above 90 percent. The grass seemed determined to hold onto every drop of moisture it could find.

My wife had her own concerns. She was worried she would not be able to use the weeding machine effectively. She usually takes care of the areas that the lawn mower cannot reach, but the ground and vegetation were still too wet to cooperate. According to her, the weather has simply refused to participate in our landscaping plans.

For now, all we can do is wait and hope for a few days of drier weather. The lawn, the weeds, and perhaps even the runners of Nashville would all appreciate a break from the humidity.

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How a Self-Care App Saved My Doctor Appointment Streak

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

Some mornings, the universe conspires to test you. This particular morning, it handed me a chilly dawn, a nephrology appointment, and the quiet threat of a broken streak. Challenge accepted. A self-care app was the key for me.

Despite the brisk weather, I laced up my running shoes and hit the road before the appointment. My plan was ambitious but reasonable: finish my morning run, shower, knock out my usual exercises, and arrive at the doctor’s office feeling like a functional human being.

It almost worked.

I did finish the run and the shower, and I squeezed in most of my morning tasks before it was time to head out. But “most” isn’t “all,” and I had to make peace with leaving a few items on the to-do list for later. The early morning hour simply had other plans.

When I got home, I settled back in, fully intending to pick up where I’d left off. You can probably guess what happened next. The routine? Completely forgotten. The intentions? Excellent. The follow-through? Less so.

This is exactly why I have the Finch App.

I’ll be honest. I’m the person who once missed the same doctor’s appointment twice in one month. I was busy, yes, but busy isn’t a medical excuse. My nephrologist would not be amused. So I turned to the same app my wife and friends swear by: Finch. We use the free version, which turns out to be plenty. It’s got everything I need to keep my daily habits on track.

With the app sending reminders straight to my phone, I can actually maintain my streaks, even on appointment days.

Now, the part my wife was really waiting for: the lab results. I tend to get rougher numbers in the summer, so she was watching this one closely. The verdict? My red blood cell count is back in the right range, the rest of my numbers look good, and my nephrologist’s official medical advice was: keep doing what you’re doing.

That’s the kind of doctor’s visit I can get behind.

Until next time, run your miles, keep your appointments, and let the app handle the rest.

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Morning vs Evening Stretching: Why the Difference?

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

Let me tell you about my complicated relationship with Morning vs. evening stretching.

It started last Christmas, when my father gifted me a stretching machine. Very thoughtful. Very assembly-required. I finally got around to building it in early January, and I do mean finally, because the manual was less a guide and more an abstract art piece. After a heroic battle with diagrams and ambiguous bolts, I prevailed. And since then, I’ve been stretching every single morning.

Here’s the thing: I used to be flexible. I did gymnastics when I was young, and my body was the kind of effortlessly bendy that people either admire or find slightly unsettling. Then I had a brain stroke, and the long recovery that followed left me stiff in ways I was determined to undo. I started running in 2016. Added resistance training over the past few years. And now, stretching,  because what good is a strong body if it snaps the first time you reach for something on a high shelf?

So I’ve been making real progress. And by “real progress,” I mean: every morning, I hit 180 degrees on the machine and feel like an absolute champion.

And every evening, I fall about 10 degrees short, and the machine silently judges me.

This is deeply puzzling. I am the same person. I have the same legs. The laws of physics have not changed between 7 a.m. and 8 p.m. And yet,  morning me is practically a contortionist, while evening me is more of a… determined rectangle.

The only meaningful difference I can spot is this: in the morning, I stretch after my planking session and a round of floor stretches. In the evening, I skip straight to the machine. Could a minute of floor work and a plank really account for a full 10 degrees? It sounds almost too simple. But sometimes the simplest explanation is the right one.

So tonight, I’m running the experiment. Floor stretches first, then the machine, and we’ll see if I can finally crack the case of the mysteriously stiff evenings.

Science waits for no one. Neither does my stretching machine.

Until next time,
Still searching for my 180,  one plank at a time

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I Finally Got Runner’s High (Here’s What It Felt Like)

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

I had my first runner’s high!

For years, I heard my wife talk about “runner’s high” with the reverent, slightly glazed-over look of someone describing a religious experience. She ran seriously back in the day, so she knew whereof she spoke. I always wondered: would I ever get there? Was I built for such transcendence? Could my legs carry me to the promised land of endorphin-fueled bliss?

Reader, they could.

My run on May 8th was already shaping up to be a personal milestone. I beat my target pace, set a new personal best, and came agonizingly close to logging my first sub-8-minute-per-kilometer, just a few seconds shy. Not bad for someone who has been quietly waging war on anemia.

Then, somewhere around the middle of my 4th kilometer, it happened. A warm, pleasant tingling crept up the back of my neck. I finished my run, slightly confused and extremely suspicious that I was either experiencing runner’s high or the early signs of a very benign haunting. I reported back to my wife, who has considerably more miles on her legs than I do. Her verdict: runner’s high. And apparently, it means you’re pushing yourself hard. High praise from the household running authority.

Now, I’d be remiss not to mention my anemia treatment, which I received just the day before. Was it the iron working its magic? A placebo boost from feeling like I was doing something about my blood? Honestly, who knows, but ever since starting treatment, my pace has climbed noticeably. The difference is, as they say, night and day. More endurance, more energy, more ability to actually finish a sentence without running out of, you know.

In other fitness news: 19 pullovers knocked out before the run, my plank is creeping back toward the 3-minute mark, and my flexibility is sitting at 170 degrees, close enough to a full split that I can practically smell 180. I anticipate getting there soon.

Until next time, may your pace be swift and your neck always tingle in the best possible way.

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Running on Empty: Life with Anemia and a 10K

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

I’ll be honest with you: this evening, I am utterly, magnificently exhausted. I attempted my weekly 10K, and my running app, with all the tact of a traffic cone, informed me that I did not, in fact, complete the full distance. My body already knew. My body had filed the paperwork on that one halfway through.

Here’s the backstory, if you’re new here: I was born with Thalassemia, a hereditary blood disorder that in my case has traveled in some very unwelcome company. My kidneys no longer work the way a healthy adult’s do, which means I’ve been dealing with severe anemia on top of everything else. To manage it, I’ve been receiving treatment, booster shots to give my blood the iron backbone it’s currently refusing to grow on its own.

The treatment has genuinely helped. I’m better than I was. But “better” is a relative word, and on days like today, sweaty, stubborn summer days, I’m reminded that my tank fills more slowly than most people’s. Summer is the hardest season because the yard doesn’t care that I have a blood disorder. It still grows. The weeds still insist on living their best lives.

Since my wife is flat-out busy with work, the yard work falls to me. And since I’m apparently constitutionally incapable of doing just one physically demanding thing at a time, I also fit in workouts on top of it. Sometimes, mid-task, I get this very specific feeling, a quiet signal from my body that says, “We have not fully recovered from the last thing. Please advise.” I try to advise accordingly.

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Curling Heavier: Small Wins in Adaptive Strength Training

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

My Adaptive Bicep Curl Progress

Two years in, and my arms are finally starting to cooperate. After four months of sticking to my new bicep curl strategy, I hit a milestone this week: I added five pounds to my previous session’s weight. Five pounds! It may not sound like much, but when you’ve been coaxing your body along the long road of adaptive training, those five pounds feel like a standing ovation.

My Exercise Routine

Here’s the thing about my exercise routine: I don’t work every muscle group every day. Instead, I’ve assigned specific body parts to specific days, a little scheduling system that keeps me on track without overwhelming my system. For resistance training in particular, consistency is the magic word. Show up, do the work, repeat. The gains come (eventually, grudgingly, like a cat that finally decides your lap is acceptable).

Now, the catch, and there’s always a catch, is that my body doesn’t process protein the way a typical healthy adult can. So I have to be extra tuned in to how I’m feeling during every session. I fatigue more easily, my muscles recover more slowly, and some days, after a particularly active stretch, I arrive at my workout already running on fumes. On those days, improving my numbers is simply off the table.

I’d actually tried bumping up this weight a couple of times before and had to dial it back both times. So I won’t be celebrating too hard just yet. Instead, it’ll be a few more weeks before I know if this heavier weight is going to stick. But the new approach seems to be working: slower progress, maybe, but more consistent. And consistent beats heroic every time.

One small bonus this week

It’s a skip week for kombucha bottling. No tea brewing, no bottle rinsing, no navigating a kitchen that smells like a fermentation lab. Given that I’ve got two lab and doctor appointments on the calendar today, the lighter chore list is a genuine gift. I still have nearly three hours before my first appointment, and I plan to use every one of them wrapping up my exercise and stretching routine, unbothered, unhurried, and hopefully a little stronger than last week.

Until next time, keep showing up, even (especially) when the weights are heavy, and the protein is sparse.

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