Tag: Fitness Journey

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Pushup Tuesday: A Tale of Perseverance and Pec Pec Glory

Written March 18, 2025

Hello Dear Readers,

Tuesdays are for pushing—literally. It’s the day I dedicate to pushups, and no, not the orange-flavored frozen kind (though that would be delightful). I recently learned that working the same muscle groups on back-to-back days isn’t all that effective—who knew muscles liked variety too?

So, Tuesday is all about the push. And boy, do I have a pushy goal: 50 pushups in one set. I’ve been flirting with that number for weeks, always coming up short by a few reps. Just a handful away. Maddening.

Once upon a time, I was that gymnast kid who could whip out pull-ups and pushups like it was recess. But then life threw a massive wrench—aka a brain stroke—into my plans. Suddenly, workouts weren’t even on the menu. For a while, waking up was the main event. I spent the early months either unconscious or living in a dreamy fog of naps and nurses.

In the long-term care facility, my goals were humbler: eat without assistance, sleep through the night, and make it to the washroom without drama. Glamorous? No. Necessary? Absolutely. After mastering those, I graduated to walking, then stairs. Eventually, pushups re-entered the scene, stage left.

Starting over was humbling. My muscles had vanished like socks in the dryer. But I began again. Slowly, consistently, and with enough stubbornness to rival a toddler refusing vegetables. Over the years, I climbed back up to almost 50 pushups. Almost. That word haunted me.

Until this morning.

Today, with a bit of grimacing and a lot of determination, I hit 50. One clean set. No collapsing. No swearing (well, not much). Just pure, triumphant effort. And let me tell you—after weeks of frustration, it felt like winning a mini-Olympics in my living room.

Now, I’m not raising the bar just yet. I’ll keep 50 as my goal until it feels like a warm-up. Then I’ll inch it up to 55. Might take a week or two—or more—but I’ll get there. One push at a time.

What I’ve learned is this: small victories matter. This is my personal Kaizen—steady, deliberate improvement. Over the years, I’ve gone from zero to 50. I’ve hit plateaus, adjusted goals, and made peace with slow progress. Sometimes, I aimed too high and had to scale back. Other times, I surprised myself.

But through it all, I’ve become more patient. And more hopeful. Because if I can rise from not walking to nailing 50 pushups… who knows what else is possible?

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When Running Slaps You With a Reality Check (But You Learn to Laugh Anyway)

Written March 13, 2025

Hello Dear Readers,

Yesterday’s run? Let’s just say it wasn’t exactly a Rocky-movie montage moment. My pace was dragging, my energy was shot, and the only thing sprinting was my inner critic. I pushed myself hard—maybe too hard—and when the numbers didn’t reflect the effort, I ended up in a full-on sulk spiral. Funny how chasing a goal with everything you’ve got can sometimes leave you feeling like you’ve been chasing your own tail.

Enter my wife, voice of reason, and resident bookworm. She told me about a book she reviewed—an advanced reader copy, no less. The book pointed out something profound: People often give up on their goals not because they lack motivation but because they’re too attached to the outcome. Oof. Guilty as charged. The same part of our brain that processes disappointment also houses our drive. So when that number on the scale or running app doesn’t look pretty, it punches our motivation in the gut.

Which explains why so many well-meaning folks throw in the towel on fitness goals. Or weight-loss goals. Or, say, not-treating-your-watch-like-a-judge goals like me.

But here’s where I’m learning to pivot. I try to zoom out. Instead of obsessing over yesterday’s data or last week’s sluggish stats, I look at the bigger picture. Okay, sure, last week wasn’t stellar—but I’m still running significantly faster than I did last year. And I don’t just mean by seconds. I mean full-on “last year me would’ve called this a miracle” levels of improvement.

Plus, it’s not just about speed. Running clears my head like nothing else. It gives me that sweet sense of accomplishment and resilience. My stamina? Way up. Five years ago, I’d be toast after a mile. Now? I’m a machine. A slightly wheezy, occasionally grumpy machine—but a machine nonetheless.

And let’s not forget the curveballs nature throws. Last summer? Total disaster. Heat waves turned every run into a survival challenge. I wasn’t logging progress—I was logging complaints. But I adapted. I started running earlier in the morning to dodge the furnace-level temps, and boom—problem, sort of solved. Sometimes, disappointment is just disguised data. It tells you what needs fixing. And once you tweak the system, you start winning again.

Now, logically, I know speed isn’t everything. The effort I’m putting in matters more. But let’s be honest—speed feels more real. You can see it. It’s flashy. Tangible. And occasionally heartbreaking.

Still, I don’t want to eliminate the disappointment entirely. Strange as it sounds, it fuels me. That tiny spark of “ugh, I want to do better” is often what lights the fire under my shoes. As long as that frustration doesn’t morph into burnout or self-loathing, I say let it stay. Harness it. Let it challenge you, not crush you.

So here I am—still running, still chasing, still learning not to take a bad day personally. Growth isn’t always linear. But if you look back far enough, you’ll see just how far you’ve come—and realize the finish line isn’t the only victory worth celebrating.

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Planking: Where Pride Goes to Die (and Come Back Stronger)

Written March 2, 2025

reviewed 3/15

Hello Dear Readers,

Ah, the sweet reward of a solid workout: muscle aches. Not exactly the kind of prize you’d frame on the wall, but a trophy nonetheless. Today, my legs are singing the well-earned ballad of yesterday’s hard-fought 10K run. Stretching is non-negotiable—unless I want to spend the day hobbling around like a wounded penguin. And trust me, that’s not the heroic look I’m going for.

While my running goals are shaping up better than expected, my planking? Well, that’s an entirely different beast. The new machine I got for planking scoffs at my previous efforts. It’s the Balrog of fitness equipment dragging me into the abyss of muscle fatigue. My body, still reeling from the betrayal, is filing official complaints. A couple of days ago, I smacked face-first into a wall of frustration. The plan had been simple: endure the pain for a week, and surely, I’d emerge victorious. But no. The abyss had other plans. No matter how much I gritted my teeth, I just couldn’t hold on long enough.

So, I made a painful decision—I cut my planking target time by a full minute. Oof.

Now, before you call it a defeat, hear me out. I’m all for pushing limits, but I also used to tell my university students that goals must be realistic. Time to practice what I preached. Setting the bar so high that I end up quitting entirely? That’s not resilience—that’s self-sabotage. A minute might not seem like much, but in the world of planking, it’s an eternity. Still, with this new machine, I have to be honest about what’s actually achievable.

Here’s how my planking sessions work: I use my smartphone on the machine to play a color ball chase game—an absolute gem of a distraction. The timer counts down, and I cling to life. The issue? My old target time, the one I used to master on my previous machine, just doesn’t translate here. But my stubborn streak refused to budge. I clung to that old number like Gollum to his precious, as if lowering it meant tarnishing my past victories. Eventually, my screaming muscles staged a full-scale rebellion, and I caved.

But here’s the plot twist: just like Gandalf, I may have fallen, but I’m coming back stronger. The new machine allows for incremental increases, so instead of mourning the lost minute, I’ve set my time to go up by one second per day. Small, steady victories. In time, I’ll reclaim my full endurance—without the unnecessary suffering. That’s the plan, at least.

At the end of the day, progress isn’t about stubbornly clinging to an arbitrary number. It’s about tracking what I can actually do and building from there. Seeing my endurance improve, even by the tiniest fraction, is far more motivating than repeatedly failing to hit an unrealistic goal.

So, here’s to adjusting, adapting, and rising like Gandalf the White—one second at a time.

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The Grand Canyon Didn’t Break Me, So Neither Will My 10K Pace

Written March 1, 2025

Hello Dear Readers,

Yesterday, I was on top of the world—or at least, on top of my running game. My 5K was a total success, smashing my target pace and dipping under 9 minutes per kilometer for the first time. Naturally, my mind started racing faster than my legs: If I keep this up, I’ll be setting a whole new goal for the year!

And then came today.

While my pace wasn’t quite as speedy, I still clocked my fastest 10K yet—just a few seconds per kilometer shy of my yearly goal. Not bad, right? But it got me thinking: so many factors affect my running pace. Distance, my body’s condition on the day, the weather—whether I’m battling a light breeze or running headfirst into a windstorm. Today, it was all about the distance.

There’s a world of difference between a 5K and a 10K. Some runners barely blink at the distinction; they lace up and conquer either without breaking stride. My wife told me about her old running buddies in Canada who were exactly like that. She, however, worked tirelessly to get there—only to realize that natural aptitude plays a role too.

But she also says consistency can take you far. Maybe not to the Olympics, but certainly further and faster than you’d expect. When she first mentioned it, I brushed it off. I wasn’t that serious about running. But over the years, as I watched my progress unfold, I started to appreciate the power of steady effort.

A prime example? The Grand Canyon.

A while back, we visited, and my wife—ever the hiking enthusiast—decided we’d walk everywhere. Skip the bus? Sure. Wander the steep, winding trails? Why not? By the time we finished, we had covered well over 10 miles, including a particularly hilly section of the canyon. And yet, I felt strong. Years ago, I would have needed to sit and rest every few minutes just to try to walk again. That day, though? No problem. My endurance had improved more than I’d ever realized.

So, yeah—consistency works.

That’s why I keep running. That’s why today’s run, even if not as fast as I’d hoped, was still an essential step forward. If I put in the effort this week, next week will be even better. And who knows? By the end of the year, I might just be chasing the 8-minute-per-kilometer mark.

One step, one run, one breakthrough at a time.

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Running Through the Chill: A Battle Against Nashville’s Winter

Written February 19, 2025

Hello Dear Readers,

February is nearly in the rearview mirror, but Nashville isn’t ready to let go of winter just yet. The city seems determined to keep us wrapped in layers, clinging to the cold like an overzealous guest who refuses to leave the party. And now, just to keep things interesting, the forecast is throwing snow into the mix. Whether it actually happens or not is anyone’s guess, but I wouldn’t put it past the weather to surprise us.

Now, I don’t mind a crisp winter run—cold air is invigorating, after all—but snow? That’s where I draw the line. My neighborhood is already an obstacle course of hills, one of which looms in front of my house like a miniature Everest. Running on it when it’s dry is a challenge. Running on it when it’s covered in snow? That’s not a workout; that’s an audition for an injury.

I learned this the hard way a few years ago. It was the day before Christmas, and my wife and I had grand plans to deliver small gifts to our neighbors. Simple enough, right? Wrong. The snow had turned the streets into a treacherous, ice-covered battleground. Every step felt like a high-stakes balancing act, and we spent more time trying not to wipe out than actually walking. Since that day, I have made a firm rule: running on snow is a terrible idea. The whole point of running is to stay healthy, not to end up in a cast.

That said, I’m not letting the cold stop me. I still plan to hit my weekly running target, snow or no snow (preferably no snow). Last summer was brutal—I struggled through one of the hottest seasons I can remember, dragging myself through heat so intense it felt like I was melting. But those struggles paid off. In November and December, I pushed hard to hit my year-end distance goal, and in the process, I did something unexpected—I got faster.

Now, every time I run, I shave a little more off my pace. I’m within five seconds per kilometer of my end-of-year target, and that progress fuels me. My wife is impressed whenever I show her my running logs, and honestly, that extra bit of admiration is a great motivator. It’s always nice to have a cheering section, even if it’s just one person.

Of course, I know not every run will be great. Some days will be slow, some will be frustrating, and some will make me question why I do this to myself at all. But I’ve learned that bad days are just that—days. They don’t define the journey. The key is to keep moving, keep improving, and not expect progress to happen overnight.

So, I’ll keep running. I’ll keep chasing my goals. But if the snow does show up tomorrow? Well, I’ll be watching it from inside with a hot drink in hand.

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Rain, Rogue GPS, and the Mysterious Vanishing Kilometers

Written February 16, 2025

Hello Dear Readers,

Some runs feel like a victory lap. Others? A battle against the elements, technology, and one’s own patience. Yesterday’s run firmly belonged in the latter category.

It all started with rain. Not the cinematic kind, where you look heroic, sprinting through a storm with determination in your eyes. No, this was the persistently annoying variety—too light to justify quitting but steady enough to be irritating. I ran anyway, determined to get my usual 10k in. The universe, however, had other plans.

About halfway through, I glanced at my running app and noticed something was off. It had only logged one kilometer. One. I had covered at least five. I stopped, restarted the app, and, like any stubborn runner with a love-hate relationship with technology, decided to run another 5k just to make sure the second half was tracked correctly. It worked—sort of. The second 5k showed up fine, but the first half of my run had been swallowed into the digital abyss, never to be seen again. And just like that, my running records were now permanently haunted by a mysterious missing 4k.

Curious (and mildly exasperated), I looked into why this happened. Turns out, GPS signals don’t always play nice with rain. While light rain doesn’t do much, heavier rain can scatter the signals enough to make devices struggle. That explained my app’s refusal to acknowledge half my workout. The logic makes sense, but it doesn’t make it any less frustrating when you’re staring at an incomplete run in your stats.

Now, if you ask my wife, she’d say I shouldn’t even be looking at the daily numbers. “Look at the long-term progress,” she always tells me. “People get discouraged when they fixate on single-day stats. That’s how they end up quitting.” She had to learn that lesson the hard way—being results-driven meant she used to stress over every little fluctuation. Me? Not so much. I like having numbers, but I don’t let them dictate my mood. Still, I see her point. If a missing 4k had the power to make or break my commitment to running, I probably wouldn’t have lasted this long.

At the end of the day, my legs still got their workout, my heart still did its thing, and the health benefits remained intact—regardless of what my app said. It’s a minor annoyance, sure, but it’s not like my fitness depends on perfect tracking. That being said, I won’t pretend I wasn’t tempted to manually add the missing kilometers just to restore my stats. I resisted. (Barely.)

So, the moral of the story? Rain happens. Technology fails. And sometimes, you just have to run another 5k out of sheer stubbornness. But in the grand scheme of things, what matters isn’t a missing stat—it’s the habit, the discipline, and the fact that I got out there in the first place. And if I ever need proof, my sore legs will be more than happy to remind me.

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Relentless Forward Motion: Embracing the Grind, One Run at a Time

Written 01/26/2025

Hello Dear Readers,

Ah, what a difference a week makes! The weather has finally decided to cooperate, and my runs are feeling much more bearable. Yesterday was so mild that I nearly ditched my windbreaker altogether. Gloves? Left them behind. And guess what? I didn’t regret it.

Running in this kind of weather is a dream. My body isn’t wasting energy trying to keep warm or cool down—it’s actually focusing on, you know, running. And the results? Well, let’s just say I had a good day. Not only did I crush my target pace for two consecutive 5Ks, but I also set a new personal best for my 10K. Not too shabby for a guy who, just a few years ago, had to relearn how to control his body.

My goal for this year? A sub-9-minute-per-kilometer 5K. Ambitious? Maybe. But here’s the kicker: It’s only January, and I’ve already pushed my pace down to 9:32/km. That’s progress. Real, tangible progress.

Now, let’s talk about running for a second. It’s a weird sport. Improvement is painfully slow, especially if you start from zero—trust me, I know. I wouldn’t call myself fast (or even moderately speedy), but I’m persistent. Whether the weather is unforgivingly cold or oppressively hot, I lace up and hit the road. I don’t quit. I just keep going.

My wife once told me that, eventually, running wouldn’t feel like a struggle—it would just be something I did. And she was right. At some point, my body got used to it. Even more surprisingly, I started experiencing what she calls “runner’s high.” She used to rave about how addictive it was, and while I wouldn’t say I’m hooked just yet, I do get it now. There’s something incredibly rewarding about seeing progress, even when it happens at a pace that would make a snail yawn.

Zooming out and looking at my progress over a year instead of obsessing over daily runs? That’s when I truly see how far I’ve come.

Of course, once summer rolls around, I expect my pace to slow down again—because running in the heat is basically self-inflicted suffering. But come fall, I’ll be ready to pick up speed again. The key is consistency. Just keep running, and the results will follow.

Oh, and speaking of progress, my planking game is back on track. Two-minute sessions are feeling solid again, thanks to the new platform. So, endurance? We’re rebuilding that, too.

All in all, I’d say things are looking pretty good. Now, let’s see what next week’s runs bring!

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Planking Pains and Gains: My Battle with the New Platform

Written January 24, 2024

Hello Dear Readers,

Ever since my wife and I upgraded to a new planking platform, my core has been waging a full-scale rebellion. Holding a plank for my usual duration? Ha! My abs have other plans. Two likely culprits are sabotaging my endurance, and honestly, I feel personally attacked.

Why Am I Suddenly Terrible at Planking?

First, there was the dark age—that sad, plank-less week when our old platform broke. Not wanting to lose momentum, I switched to planking on the floor. Great idea in theory, except floor planking apparently isn’t the same beast. It felt easier, sure, but that “easier” came with a hidden cost—my endurance took a hit. Turns out, sometimes doing something isn’t as good as doing the right thing. Lesson learned.

Second, this new machine is demanding, and my body is not amused. Unlike the old platform, this one requires a completely different posture. My core, once a loyal ally, is now throwing tantrums over the additional balancing act. I plank, I wobble, I try to hold steady, and the machine just laughs at my suffering.

The Game Plan: One Problem at a Time

Since quitting isn’t an option (and my pride won’t let me), I’ve been sneaking in extra plank sessions throughout the day. The improvement has been slow but steady—exactly the kind of hard-earned victory that makes fitness both frustrating and rewarding.

Endurance Woes: Fighting for Seconds

When I first set foot (or rather, forearm) on this new machine, I barely lasted a minute. A whole 60 seconds before my core tapped out. Now, I’m creeping up to 90 seconds. Still far from my goal of nearly three minutes, but hey, progress is progress. I’ve been on and off gymnastics in the past, so I know one thing for certain—muscle endurance isn’t won overnight. It’s a painfully slow process of adding seconds, one grueling plank at a time. The only way forward? Reduce the timer, reclaim lost time, and build up gradually.

Core Chaos: The Balancing Act

Balance? What balance? This machine demands way more from my core, and my muscles are not amused. It’s like trying to hold a plank on a tiny, floating island that tilts at the slightest shift. Keeping the correct posture while balancing feels like taming a wild horse—one that insists on throwing me off at every opportunity. But I’m sticking with it. No matter how many times I feel like a baby giraffe learning to walk, I’ll get there.

The Silver Lining: Sore Abs = Progress

How long will it take to reach my previous planking glory? No clue. This is an entirely different beast, and I’ll have to tame it on its terms. One thing I do know? My abs are on fire. The soreness is proof that this machine is working harder than ever. If pain equals progress, then I’m definitely moving in the right direction.

So, for now, I’ll keep planking, keep struggling, and keep counting the seconds—until my core decides to stop complaining and start cooperating.

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Back on the Run: Making Peace with Snow, Chill, and My New Plan

Written January 13, 2025

Hello Dear Readers,

Finally, the sun decided to make an appearance, peeking out from its hiding spot behind the clouds! Yesterday’s snow melt was just enough to liberate the outdoors from its icy grip, and that means one thing—I’m back in action. The air still has that classic winter edge, but I’m more than ready to hit the pavement and reclaim my running routine.

This impromptu “rest period” brought on by cloudy skies and subzero vibes wasn’t exactly what I had in mind. Sure, rest days are important, but let’s be honest—this one wasn’t by choice. However, in my downtime, I did some thinking (and a bit of stewing) about how to make up for lost time and, ideally, how to avoid falling behind again. That’s when my new running policy took shape.

Here’s the plan: Over the next couple of weeks, I’ll focus on both speed and mileage. If I manage to beat my target pace during the first half of a run, I’ll reward myself by stopping after 5K. But if I miss the mark? It’s a second 5K for me. No excuses, no shortcuts. It’s a win-win: either I improve my speed, or I make up for the distance I’ve missed. Motivation, thy name is accountability!

Now, let’s talk about Midwest winters. Being from Indiana, I’m no stranger to snow. A few flakes? Not a big deal. But this cold snap feels a bit personal—like winter heard me planning my runs and decided to crank up the Arctic settings just to spite me. And, of course, everyone’s favorite weather topic comes up: climate change. Some experts are saying the unusually warm ocean temperatures are throwing weather patterns into chaos. Am I ready to blame the oceans for my frosty morning runs? Not quite. But it does make me wonder if my running routine will need a seasonal overhaul in the future.

Regardless of what’s happening with the planet’s thermostat, I’m sticking to what I can control: running smarter and gradually increasing my pace. If all goes well, I’ll be crushing my target pace so often that extra 10Ks become a rare punishment, not the norm. That’s the dream, anyway.

Until then, I’ll bundle up, hit the road, and keep pushing forward—even if the weather is unpredictable. My goals are crystal clear. Running is as much about mental endurance as it is about physical stamina, and this new plan is all about building both.

So, here’s to embracing the chill, setting ambitious goals, and turning unwanted rest days into opportunities to recalibrate. If nothing else, winter is proving to be a relentless teacher. But hey, if I can conquer icy mornings and double-run challenges, maybe the spring sunshine will feel that much sweeter when it finally sticks around. For now, though, it’s just me, my running shoes, and a lot of determination.

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From Stumbling Steps to Sore Legs: My 10K Running Journey

Written Jan 05, 2025

Hello Dear Readers,

This year, I made a bold proclamation: I’d conquer the 10K run more frequently than last year. Lofty, isn’t it? Well, it sounded heroic at the time. My main goal? Shave some seconds off my pace and make my running app sing my praises.

Let me set the scene: halfway through today’s 10K, I realized I’d missed my target pace by just a few seconds. Naturally, I did what any mildly obsessive runner would do—I pushed myself like I was being chased by a very determined turtle. The result? I barely hit my goal pace, but hey, “barely” still counts!

Looking back, it’s wild to think how far I’ve come. When I first started running seriously about 7-8 years ago, just finishing a few kilometers felt like scaling Everest. Rewind even further, and you’ll find me relearning how to walk after a brain stroke. Fun fact: my brain remembered that walking was a thing, but it forgot how to send the memo to my legs. The first time I told my wife I wanted to try running, she probably imagined me face-planting spectacularly. Spoiler: she wasn’t entirely wrong—I did fall a few times. But bruises fade, and determination grows.

Fast-forward to 2018, when we moved into our current home. I was still a slowpoke. A 5-kilometer run felt like a marathon, but over time, it stopped feeling like torture. Then came the glorious leap to 10 kilometers. Now, here I am—trying to outrun my past self, armed with sheer grit and slightly sore legs.

Speaking of sore legs, they’re the price of today’s achievement. My reward? I felt general weariness and the smug satisfaction of knowing this was my second-fastest 10K on record. Not bad for someone who started by jogging a single kilometer like a wobbly giraffe.

My endgame this year is to smash that 9:00 min/kilometer barrier. Today’s effort brought me closer, but it also left me with legs that felt like overcooked noodles. Stretching to the rescue! My daily leg stretches after a plank session is now less a routine and more a survival strategy.

So, here’s to run faster, recover smarter, and celebrate every hard-earned second because every step—whether wobbly or swift—proves that I’m still moving forward.