Category: Running

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Why I Gained Four Pounds Overnight—and Why It’s Actually Good News with My Kidney Condition

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

Written September 29, 2025

Hello Dear Readers,

My legs and I are currently on speaking terms again—barely. Yesterday’s 10K run left me hobbling like I’d just completed a marathon with bricks strapped to my ankles. Recovery is not my strong suit; thanks to my kidney condition, I heal slower than the average adult male, and unlike gym bros, I can’t just down a mountain of chicken breasts to bounce back.

My doctor did let me nudge up my protein intake a bit, but it’s still a delicate balancing act. During summer, I was burning calories faster than an ice cube melts in Nashville heat, so keeping my weight steady was like playing nutritional Jenga.

Today’s run was… let’s call it “character-building.” I aimed for 10K, but my body voted strongly for “more like 5K.” Fatigue, poor sleep, temporary weight gain, and a side of sore legs made sure my performance stayed humbling. And speaking of sleep—last night mine was about as restful as trying to nap during a fire alarm test.

Dinner probably didn’t help. My wife, who avoids meat like it’s auditioning for a horror movie, made vegetarian chili to sneak in some extra protein. Tasty, yes. But let’s just say it left me producing enough gas to qualify as a renewable energy source. Add to that the three liters of water I downed, and I was on first-name terms with our bathroom.

The scale added its own drama this morning: four pounds heavier than Saturday. It is not as bad as you think when you have a kidney condition like mine. But before I accused my chili of conspiring against me, I noticed the breakdown. According to the fancy metrics, over half of that gain is muscle, and a quarter is water weight. My wife—now practically a part-time sports medicine researcher thanks to her own fitness challenges—reminded me that recovery often means muscles hoard water like dragons hoard gold.

So yes, the numbers will bounce around, but in a couple of days, I’ll be back in my target range. In the meantime, I’ll keep running, keep eating cautiously, and maybe keep a safe distance from vegetarian chili before long runs.

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Rice Runs, Frozen Tofu Experiments, and the 10K That Got Away

Brian’s fitness journal after brain stroke

Written September 20, 2025

Hello Dear Readers,

Saturday morning in my household is a delicate dance between errands, exercise, and the eternal quest for puff pastry sheets. This week’s adventure began at the local Asian grocery store, because, well—running out of rice in an Asian household is basically the culinary equivalent of running out of oxygen. My wife needed vegetables, too, which meant the trip was officially sanctioned. So today, we went Asian grocery shopping.

Now, a trip to the Asian grocery shopping isn’t just a “pop in, pop out” operation. It’s a small expedition. The store recently started opening at 8 a.m., but let’s be honest: that’s early enough to threaten my carefully choreographed Saturday 10k schedule. My wife doesn’t mind—she has her own routines to juggle. But me? I get twitchy when my long run collides with cabbage shopping.

Back home, my wife immediately switched into surgeon mode, chopping vegetables with precision, bagging them up, and sealing them tighter than Fort Knox. Freezer prep is her art form. She even went bold this week, sneaking tofu into the vegetable bags. This was a first—frozen tofu. The great experiment. She worried about texture changes, but she sealed everything like she was shipping supplies to the International Space Station.

And here’s the thing: Asian groceries are magical, but they’re also heartbreakers. Prices are climbing faster than I can sprint a downhill kilometer. Bean sprouts—bean sprouts!—cost more than they have any right to. Tofu leapt from $1.69 to $2.33, and cabbage is flirting with the one-dollar-per-pound mark. My wife, ever the philosopher-economist, shrugged it off: “Vegetables are cheaper than getting sick.” She calls it an investment in future health, which is hard to argue with—even if I did want to whine about my wallet.

Meanwhile, my run schedule was wobbling. By the time we’d sorted rice, veggies, and freezer logistics, the Nashville sun was already plotting against me. I laced up for the 10k, determined to salvage the morning. The first half went fine—better than fine, actually—but by the second half, the temperature had risen to “why am I doing this again?” levels. Let’s just say I did not become the hero of my own running story that day. Half a run, half a victory.

Of course, I promised myself I’d make up the distance on Monday. I even checked the week’s forecast like it was my personal redemption arc. But life, as always, threw a curveball: mowing season isn’t done yet. And yes, I had to factor in pastry bites, because apparently, my errands also involve making sure puff pastry sheets are in stock for the week ahead. (Don’t ask how pastry became part of my training diet—it’s a long story involving taste buds and denial.)

Here’s the truth: seasonal transitions don’t happen in a neat, dramatic shift. They creep up on you. The weather hasn’t bullied me into full winter running mode yet, so I’m keeping things flexible. Saturday schedules will shift. Runs may be cut short. Puff pastry will mysteriously appear in the cart. But patience—and maybe a little tofu experiment—will get us through.

And in the meantime, there’s rice in the pantry, vegetables in the freezer, and a 10k penciled into my calendar with suspicious optimism. That’s what I call balance.

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Rain, Runs, and Relentless Grass: A Nashville Tale

Brian’s Journal after Brain Stroke

Written September 24, 2025

Hello Dear Readers,

Nashville’s weather has been auditioning for the role of “most indecisive character in a soap opera.” One minute, sunshine. Next minute, a full-on rain performance with dramatic flair. Naturally, my lawn has been the stage victim—too soggy to mow the other day, yet somehow already plotting its overgrowth revenge.

Today’s to-do list included a 5 km run. Did the rain stop me? Not exactly. Did it try to slow me down? Absolutely. Imagine running while the sky wrings itself out like a wet towel over your head—that was me. By the midpoint, I felt as if the rain wasn’t just falling on me but siphoning my energy straight out of my legs. The cool air stiffened me up, and my pace slowed, but hey, I still finished. That’s a victory in my book.

Meanwhile, the lawn continues to mock me. Mowing is no small affair here—our backyard is hillier than a rollercoaster ride. My wife used to mow it with a non-electric push mower, which I now realize was basically a medieval torture device disguised as gardening equipment. She took breaks between passes; I just sweat and pray.

The funny part? Last summer was so scorching hot that the grass barely grew, and we actually wished it would. This year, it’s making up for lost time—rain, warmth, repeat. Nashville weather is playing chess, and I’m just a pawn with a lawnmower.

When I got home from my run, I weighed myself and noticed I was down four pounds compared to yesterday. Before you think I discovered some magic weight-loss hack, don’t get excited—it was probably the difference between “pre-breakfast” vs. “post-liter-of-water.” For the record, one liter equals about 2.2 pounds. Math: not glamorous, but it explains a lot.

The weighing ritual has become part of my daily routine, thanks to our electric scale. My doctor loves the log—apparently, sudden spikes or drops are like plot twists in my health story. I keep myself steady around 150 pounds, with about 132 of that being muscle (the other 18? Let’s just call them “personality”).

On the food front, my wife has recently developed a habit of stockpiling bananas. She snacks on one before her workouts. Bananas may contain potassium, which I need to watch with my kidneys, but I figure one or two won’t send me straight to the ER. Plus, potassium helps with energy—something I probably could’ve used before running in the rain like a damp tortoise.

Slow or not, I ran today. The grass may wait, the rain may fall, but showing up matters more than the stopwatch. Someday, I’ll be a faster runner. For now, I’ll settle for being the guy who outpaces his lawn.

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Cookies, Cold Runs, and Cat Chaos: A Fall Running in Nashville

Written September 15, 2025

Hello Dear Readers,

This morning, I decided to ignore my usual “cold-weather running schedule” and hit the road first thing. Why? Because thanks to my brain stroke, my autonomic nervous system is about as reliable as Nashville weather—completely indecisive. I have to change my running times seasonally: summer evenings, winter mornings. Today, I gambled with the cooler air.

Of course, fuel was required. Sadly, I was out of my trusty pastry bites, so I settled for one of my homemade bite-sized cookies. Sure, vegetables would’ve been the “healthier carb choice,” but when you’re staring down 5k with zero fuel, kale isn’t going to cut it. My wife won’t touch cookies before noon—she’s convinced sugar is a morning villain—but I like my cookies tiny enough that even my calorie counter barely blinks.

After the run, I realized lawn mowing season is officially over (victory dance). But before I get too cozy, the trees in our front yard have declared war—sending down waves of crunchy leaves that need collecting before they stage a full-on rebellion. Tomorrow, leaf duty begins.

Meanwhile, our kitten has been inhaling food like she’s training for an eating contest. Four servings down before lunch, and she still looks at me like Oliver Twist asking for more. At least she balances it out with exercise—her version of “cardio” is chasing a toy mouse across the living room like a furry missile.

So: no mowing, yes to leaf wrangling, cookies for fuel, and a kitten with bottomless-pit energy. Autumn in Nashville may be confused, but my day certainly isn’t.

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When Life Gives You Rain, Trade Your Mower for Running Shoes

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

Written September 25, 2025

Hello Dear Readers,

Sometimes the universe likes to laugh at your carefully planned to-do list. This morning, it chuckled right in my face. I woke up, stretched, looked out the window—and saw rain. Again. The lawn had already staged a mutiny thanks to weeks of drizzle and warm weather, but mowing in the rain is as effective as trying to blow-dry your hair in a hurricane.

So, breakfast it was. I sipped my coffee and gave the sky my best “disappointed dad” look, hoping it would feel guilty and stop raining. No luck. And even if it did stop, soggy grass is a mower’s worst nightmare. My frustration grew—plans derailed by something completely out of my control.

Enter: my wife. She’s basically a Jedi Master of time management, trained since her teenage years. Watching me sulk at the window, she offered a simple solution: “Why not swap today’s mowing with tomorrow’s run?”

Genius. And annoyingly reasonable.

So, I laced up my running shoes and hit the pavement. And you know what? I ran better than yesterday. Turns out swapping a mower for running shoes isn’t the worst deal after all. My wife reminded me of an ancient truth: control what you can, stop glaring at what you can’t.

The lawn, of course, will get its day—maybe tomorrow, maybe next week. But here’s the kicker: I secretly dread more mowing anyway. It’s autumn, the grass should be retiring by now! Every raindrop feels like nature’s way of extending lawn season just to spite me.

Still, once I made the switch, I realized my mood had already improved. Running in the rain (well, drizzle) was a lot better than sulking indoors. And yes, the lawn still looks like a small jungle, but at least I got a solid run and a story out of it.

Lesson learned? When the rain ruins your plans, don’t argue with the clouds. Just change shoes.

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Why a Belt Pouch Beats an Arm Holster for Carrying Your? Phone

Brian’s fitness journal after brain stroke

Written September 10, 2025

Hello, Dear Readers,

Today I tested out a new running hack: ditching my arm holster and slipping my phone into the pouch on my water bottle belt. Turns out, this was a major upgrade—kind of like trading in a wobbly shopping cart for one that actually rolls straight.

The belt itself came after a chat with my nephrologist. I proudly said, “I’ve started running again!” and instead of high-fives, I got, “Are you drinking enough water?” Because Tennessee summers are hot enough to roast marshmallows on the sidewalk, and running a 10K without hydration is basically survival training.

Originally, I borrowed my wife’s old running belt. Back in her racing days, it carried everything: keys, cards, a license, and occasionally water bottles when she ran with friends. But like all veterans, it eventually retired—translation: it broke. So, I upgraded to my own shiny(ish) version.

My belt’s pocket is the perfect size for keys or a phone. The problem? My old phone was basically the size of a small TV and didn’t fit. That’s when my wife introduced me to the arm holster. And while it worked, it also slipped, bunched, and demanded constant fiddling mid-run. Worst of all, it caused me to drop my phone once—because apparently, I like to add “juggling” to my workouts.

Enter: my new, smaller phone. It fits in the belt pouch like it was born there. No slipping, no bouncing, no phone gymnastics. And wouldn’t you know it—I clocked my fastest time yet. Coincidence? Maybe. Or maybe the pouch is my new superpower.

The phone itself is also a delight. I’ve redownloaded my apps, got my audiobooks back, and life feels orderly again. Was my pace faster because of the belt setup, the phone, or pure runner’s glory? Who knows. All I know is, I finally hit a sub-9-minute kilometer—my first since last spring.

The goal now: keep that pace up and maybe even shave it down before 2025 waves goodbye. In the meantime, I’ll keep running, hydrating, and making sure my phone stays securely on me, not in pieces on the pavement.

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Thunderstorm Workout: An Alternative Way to Stay Active

Brian’s Journey after a brain stroke

Written September 6, 2025

Hello, Dear Readers,

This morning I woke up like a superhero ready for a 10k—but the universe had other plans. My new Google phone, the sidekick I’d been waiting for, pulled a diva move and decided not to show up. Delivery delayed. My wife explained that we missed the carrier’s cut-off, and since it’s the weekend, the phone is basically sipping margaritas in a warehouse until Monday.

Now here’s the problem: I had psyched myself up for a two-hour run, but without audiobooks, that’s just two hours of listening to my own thoughts. And trust me, my brain is not the best playlist. To add insult to injury, it was cold. Like, September-just-started-but-we’re-already-in-October cold. Nashville apparently skipped the weather memo.

Then my wife pointed out the thunder and lightning. Yes, actual thunderbolts—while I was too busy sulking about my phone to notice. She had already cut her own run short (she’ll run through snow, rain, plagues of locusts—you name it—but thunder is her personal “nope”). To be fair, her aunt once got hit by lightning. Survived, but the story was enough to permanently traumatize her. On a day like this, I will find an alternative way to stay active.

So instead of dodging lightning like a wannabe Olympic sprinter, I downgraded to a safer workout: vacuuming. It doesn’t burn quite the same calories, but hey, clean floors are underrated cardio.

Meanwhile, our kitten staged her own adventure. She scaled the stairs, stormed into our bedroom, and leapt onto the bed like she owned the place. My wife was over the moon. Me? I was just proud our tiny furball could jump higher than my weekend motivation. She’s getting braver by the day, meowing for pets, curling up on my lap, and basically running the household with four paws and a tail.

Honestly, spending the morning with her wasn’t a bad trade for missing my run. Thunder outside, purring inside. And while I do feel naked without a phone—no alarms, no stopwatch, no audiobooks—I’ll survive. It’s wild how much we rely on those little rectangles, even when we’re not on social media.

Until my phone comes crawling home on Monday, I’ll be over here vacuuming, cat-cuddling, and pretending I meant to skip that run all along. When the weather is not suitable for running, this is how I deal with it, an alternative way to stay active.

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Running Blunders: The Great Water Famine and the Phone Faceplant

Hello, Dear Readers,

Today, I managed to commit not one but two running blunders—proof that even with the best intentions, chaos has a way of lacing up its sneakers and jogging alongside me.

Error #1: The Great Water Famine.

Normally, I’m the kind of runner who looks like I’m training for a desert ultramarathon—I haul around two water bottles to protect my kidneys (which, unlike me, don’t tolerate nonsense). But this morning, in a rare burst of “efficiency,” I dashed out the door without filling them. Halfway through my 5k, I was parched enough to consider licking morning dew off the grass. Instead, I paused my app and sheepishly jogged home to guzzle water. Annoying? Yes. Life-threatening? Not quite.

Error #2: The Phone Faceplant


Just as I was nearing the glorious end of my run, my phone decided it had endured enough of my playlists and flung itself out of the armband like a rebellious teenager. It hit the road, kept my audiobook running (cheeky!), but left the screen as black as my mood. Restarting didn’t help. Swiping blind works—if I remember the exact location—but let’s be honest, that’s a party trick, not a solution.

My wife and I fiddled with it for hours before she wisely ordered me a replacement. Her only condition? “Anything but the Pixel 10—we’re not paying flagship prices for your clumsy running habits.” Fair enough. Since my old phone was out of warranty anyway, it was time to retire it.

The problem is, my phone isn’t just a phone. It’s my running buddy, my audiobook narrator, my alarm clock, my weight tracker, and my lifeline to family. Without it, I had to rely on my wife to send word to relatives that I wasn’t ignoring them—I was simply living in a temporary tech blackout.

Now, I’m staring down a week without audiobooks, which means my runs and chores are about to get a lot more… “mindful.” Worse, my streaks—language learning, planking, and possibly running—are about to snap. Still, even without apps counting my every move, I’ll keep the streak alive. After all, progress isn’t just about the record—it’s about the run itself (and not dropping your phone while doing it).

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Adapting to a New Running Routine Amidst Summer Storms

Written August 17, 2024

Hello Dear Readers,

This morning began like any other. I woke up early, quickly prepared for my daily run, and stepped outside, eager to cover some distance before the day’s responsibilities took over. However, today, there was an urgency: a race against the ominous dark clouds gathering in the sky. I knew a thunderstorm was coming, and I was determined to finish my run before it hit. Unfortunately, that plan didn’t pan out as expected.

Normally, I rely on my weather app to avoid running in storms. I’ve had the misfortune of being caught in a severe thunderstorm before, and I have no desire to repeat it. Running in the rain is one thing; running amidst lightning and thunder is another. As I stepped outside, the sky was an unsettling shade of gray, and the distant rumble of thunder was growing louder. I hesitated and checked my app again. The storm was imminent.

Reluctantly, I decided to delay my run. I wasn’t happy about it—I’ve grown accustomed to running first thing in the morning, and changing that routine always feels like a disruption. But safety comes first. I returned inside, reminding myself that this was just a temporary delay. The storm wasn’t forecasted to last long, and I could resume my run after breakfast.

As I waited, I couldn’t help but reflect on how much my running routine has changed over the past few months. During the summer, I shifted to early morning runs to avoid the heat, but even that routine was being challenged. It’s funny how quickly we adapt to new habits, only to find them disrupted again. I hadn’t planned on changing my schedule today, but I realized it’s a part of life—adapting to what comes our way, even if it’s unexpected.

There’s also the unpredictability of summer storms to consider. Sometimes, they bring a refreshing drop in temperature, making the post-storm air crisp and cool—perfect for running. Other times, they leave behind a suffocating blanket of humidity, making every step feel like a slog. Our last storm did just that, turning the air thick and muggy, far from the relief I was hoping for. Whether a storm will leave the weather better or worse is always a gamble.

As I sat at the table, finishing my breakfast, I rechecked the weather app. The storm was passing, and I felt a sense of relief. I wouldn’t let a bit of bad weather throw me off course. My commitment to maintaining a healthy lifestyle is strong, and I wouldn’t let this minor setback deter me. Most importantly, I would get my run in today, even if it wasn’t at my usual time.

When I finally stepped outside again, the air was cooler, and the clouds began to part. I set off on my run, grateful I hadn’t let the storm ruin my day. Life is full of unexpected challenges, but with some flexibility and determination, we can keep moving forward—one step at a time.

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I Am Learning How To Balance My Ambition

Written on August 10, 2024

Hello Dear Readers,

Yesterday, I set out to run 10 kilometers. However, it quickly became apparent that my legs hadn’t fully recovered from my previous run—they were sore and heavy. Despite my initial ambition, I realized that pushing through might not be the wisest decision, so I reluctantly cut the run short at 5 kilometers.

As I reflected on this decision, my wife shared a cautionary tale from her past. Years ago, when she was younger and just as driven, she ignored the early warning signs of soreness in her legs and kept running. Unfortunately, this led to stress fractures that sidelined her for several weeks. She emphasized the importance of listening to our bodies, no matter how strong the desire to achieve a goal might be. Her experience is a powerful reminder that ambition, if not balanced with self-care, can sometimes lead to setbacks.

Balancing my goals with my physical limitations has always been a challenge. There’s a fine line between pushing myself to improve and pushing myself too far. At times, it feels frustrating, especially when I see my progress over the past year. Thanks to my running app, I’ve been able to track my distances and pace, and I’ve seen significant improvement. Even when I complete a 10-kilometer run, my times are much better than last year. This progress motivates me to keep going but also comes with a price.

I’ve noticed that my recovery time has become longer, which I suspect is partly due to my limited protein intake. While a typical adult consumes about 1/1000 of their body weight in protein, I can only manage a little over half of that. This has made it challenging to fully recover from muscle soreness, even though I’ve figured out how to manage my weight and prevent muscle loss. Recovery remains an ongoing struggle.

Despite these challenges, I’m trying to focus on the positives. I’m proud of how hard I work and how much I’ve improved despite my difficulties. My wife often reminds me that I’m resilient, even though I get tired more easily and have trouble recovering. She understands my struggles and supports my determination to reach my goals.

Ultimately, I’ve decided to embrace a more balanced perspective. It’s okay if I can’t always run 10 kilometers due to physical limitations. The muscle soreness I’m experiencing is a sign that I’m pushing myself toward my goals, and that’s something to be proud of. Most importantly, I continue moving forward and never give up, even when the journey gets tough.