Tag: Fitness Journey

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The Great 10K Redemption Run (a.k.a. Oops, I Forgot—Again)

Written July 9, 2025

Reviewed 7/26

Hello Dear Readers,

Ah, Saturday. The day I had grand 10K ambitions… that ended halfway through. I was determined to make up for it on Monday. But here’s the plot twist: I completely forgot. I mean, the kind of forgetfulness where you only remember after you’re cooling down, patting yourself on the back like you nailed it. Spoiler: I did not nail it.

So, Wednesday became the new redemption day. This time, no forgetting, no excuses. I tied my shoes like a warrior preparing for battle and hit the pavement early—like, pre-sunrise early—because in Nashville, once that sun is up, you’re basically jogging through a sauna.

Last year, I used to run around lunchtime. Which sounds bold until you realize I was just marinating in humidity with each step. But I’ve since evolved. These days, I run before the cicadas even start singing, and I must say—it’s a game-changer. Cooler temps, fewer bugs, and I get to feel smugly accomplished before most people even finish their first cup of coffee.

Now, Nashville weather has been acting like a moody teenager this year—storms, rain, sudden downpours that cancel both my runs and my yard work. My schedule’s been bouncing around like a squirrel on caffeine.

Still, there’s something magical about running in bearable weather. I used to crawl through summer runs, but now I glide (okay, maybe “glide” is generous—let’s go with “lumber efficiently”). It also helps that I finish my workout early enough to make the rest of my day feel productive instead of… sweaty and sluggish. My wife’s been team Morning Everything for years—turns out she was right. Again.

Did I hit my target pace today? Nope. But let’s be honest, trying to increase speed and distance at the same time is like trying to cook a five-course meal while juggling flaming swords. A noble idea, but not exactly sustainable.

I’ve also been doing a ton of yard work lately, so my legs are staging a silent protest. I’m learning to listen to my body—well, mostly. Sometimes I still push it to the edge of “nap-or-collapse” territory. But I remind myself: even if my pace isn’t perfect, I’m still out there. Still moving. Still logging the miles.

Running is a fickle friend—affected by the weather, your sleep, your breakfast, and even your mood. One off-day doesn’t mean failure. When I zoom out and look at the big picture, I am getting better. And that’s what really matters.So here’s to Wednesday’s redemption run: a full 10K in the books, a slight smile on my face, and hopeful legs for Friday. Who knows? Maybe next time I’ll remember my plan before the run. Stranger things have happened.

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Running on Fumes (and Firecrackers)

Written July 5, 2025

Reviewed 7/20

Hello Dear Readers,

We had a great time at the party last night, but let’s just say we rolled in about 30 minutes later than ideal. Not a huge deal, unless you’re someone (like me) who runs on a strict internal clock and a slightly wobbly energy meter.

My wife, the human embodiment of discipline, woke up this morning like it was any other day—well, almost. She admitted to hitting snooze a little more than usual, getting up 30 minutes late. No surprise there; we did go to bed 30 minutes late. The math checks out.

But here’s where things get interesting: while she nodded off the moment her head hit the pillow, I spent a solid chunk of the night listening to our neighbors’ amateur fireworks show. Think of it as the sleep-deprivation remix of the Fourth of July.

Still, I tried to stick to my routine. I laced up and headed out for my usual 10k… and promptly called it quits at the halfway mark. My body wasn’t just politely whispering, “Maybe not today”—it was staging a full-blown protest. No energy. No spark. Just a very firm nope from my muscles.

Meanwhile, my wife? She powered through her usual workout and tackled 90 minutes of yard work like a caffeinated superhero. By the time she was done, she looked more refreshed than when she started. And then she casually transitioned into business mode or housework—honestly, I lost track. She’s kind of unstoppable.

As for me, my energy levels tend to drain faster than a phone with too many background apps. My doctor reminds me regularly that my body doesn’t bounce back the same way a healthy adult’s does. A little push can feel like a marathon. And today, that 5k was all I had in me.

Tomorrow’s our designated rest day—at least for me. My wife, of course, plans to get back out there in the yard. I’ll offer to help, but let’s be real: a slow walk sounds more my speed. We’ll see what happens.

If the weather behaves, I’m eyeing a proper 10k comeback on Monday. But first, sleep. Beautiful, uninterrupted sleep. Time to recharge the system and stop running on leftover firecracker fumes.

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Good Morning, Cardboard Chaos and Core Pain

Written May 10, 2025

reviewed 5/24

Hello Dear Readers,

Today I woke up with my body sending out what can only be described as an RSVP to the Pain Party. Most notably, my left shoulder/back area felt like it had gone a few rounds with a grizzly bear in its off-season. Every deep breath came with a charming reminder that, yes, I am no longer 22, and yes, running with sore muscles is about as fun as assembling IKEA furniture without instructions.

My grand plan was to knock out a casual 10k before heading to my sister’s shindig this afternoon. Reality, however, had other ideas. After dragging my slightly disgruntled limbs through a 5k, I waved the white flag. Enough was enough—this wasn’t the Olympics, and I wasn’t trying to impress Zeus.

When I whined—uh, consulted—with my wife about the mystery ache, she casually mentioned it might be from my recent plank marathons. Apparently, the floor space I’ve been using is less “yoga studio” and more “cardboard jungle.” Ever since we got back from Indiana, I’ve been buried in a sorting spree of my ancient Magic: The Gathering cards. Yes, the relics of my nerdy youth have staged a comeback, occupying approximately 47.3% of my study floor. (I measured emotionally.)

Now, my wife is not a fan of clutter. She approaches “stuff” with the same energy Marie Kondo would use to evict a raccoon from a linen closet. So, naturally, I’ve been trying to downsize the collection. Thankfully, a colleague of hers wants some of these dusty treasures. Apparently, old cardboard can still spark joy—or at least a trade.

The real issue? Sorting thousands of cards takes room. A lot of room. So I’ve been planking between booster packs and binder piles like some sort of core-strengthening archaeologist. My wife suggested—read: strongly recommended—that I plank in her room instead, where there’s actually space to extend my limbs without risking a landslide of mana.

Why didn’t I take her advice earlier? Well, I’m stubborn. Also, it felt like cheating on my routine. But considering my left side now feels like it’s been betrayed by my own ribcage, I’ve rethought my loyalties. She’s probably right. (She usually is. Don’t tell her I said that.)

I cleared a bit more space today, and voila—planking is no longer a game of human Tetris. The pain has subsided after some careful stretching and a moment of self-pity. Once I finish sorting the last of the cards—hopefully by mid-May—I’ll officially reclaim my floor and return to planking with dignity (and less groaning).

Lesson learned: Sometimes it’s better to abandon your makeshift gym and just listen to your wise, clutter-hating spouse. Especially if you enjoy breathing pain-free.

Until next time, stretch wisely and store your cardboard carefully.

—Your slightly sore, slightly wiser blogger

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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!