Tag: fitness motivation

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Breaking in the Run: My First 10K in a Month with New Running Shoes

Written August 30, 2025

Hello Dear Readers,

I’ve learned something important this summer: never trust August weather. One day I’m bundled up like it’s early fall, the next day I’m back in shorts, soaking up some surprisingly friendly sun. Thankfully, I’d checked the forecast, so I wasn’t ambushed by the temperature swing this time. Weather report: 1, wardrobe malfunction: 0.

The real hero of today’s story? My running shoes. After a couple of awkward weeks getting to know each other (and by “awkward,” I mean limping after every run), the new pair finally broke in. Hallelujah. I’d been cautiously tiptoeing my way through shorter runs, treating them like high-stakes negotiations with my ankles. Today, though? I laced up with confidence and set out for my first 10K in nearly a month.

The weather was ideal—just the right balance between “please don’t roast me” and “am I a human popsicle?” And somehow, the energy I thought had abandoned me came back with a vengeance. I didn’t hit my pace goal, but after weeks of skipping or cutting runs short, simply finishing 10 kilometers felt like a glorious comeback tour.

One of the best things about these shoes (same model as my old ones, by the way) is how magical they feel once they’re broken in. It’s like a Cinderella moment—if the glass slipper had arch support and cushioned soles. I logged today’s run in my app, and the mileage is still light, which is fine. I’d rather be cautious than come limping back with an injury.

I’ve noticed something curious ever since I started tracking my shoe usage: I go through pairs faster than I go through excuses not to run. And oddly, every single time, the outside cushion of my left shoe wears out first. My wife says it’s the opposite of how she runs. I suspect my left foot is trying to live its best rebellious life, supinating like a rock star while the right one follows the rules.

Anyway, the important part is—I made it. I completed my 10K. No ankle drama. No new blisters. Just a slow but satisfying return to form. I’m feeling good about this week’s runs, and now that my shoes aren’t plotting my downfall, maybe I’ll finally hit that target pace.

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The 10K That Got Away: A Tale of Ankles, Alarms, and Accidental Discipline

Written August 18, 2025

Hello Dear Readers,

This morning, both my wife and I woke up at the same time—a rare planetary alignment in our household. For her, it was her actual wake-up time. For me? It was two hours before my alarm, the sacred hour when dreams are supposed to bloom… not bloop. I tried to fall back asleep like a good little dreamer, but alas, my body had already hit the eject button.

So, naturally, I did what any sensible person does when denied sleep: I laced up and prepared to run 10 kilometers before the sun could even stretch.

You might recall that my last attempt at a 10K in new shoes didn’t quite go the distance. The shoes were brand new, but apparently, my ankles didn’t get the memo that they were identical to the old pair. (Same brand, same model—clearly not the same vibe.)

Determined to try again, I set off with 10K ambitions and a full tank of optimism. By kilometer seven, my left ankle started waving a little white flag. The sensible voice in my head—who I usually ignore—reminded me that no weekly 10K is worth a long-term injury. Especially since I watched my wife limp dramatically through that exact lesson last winter, I bowed out at 7K.

By lunchtime, I noticed muscle pain blooming like a confused flower around my ankle. My theory? Some heroic micro-muscle-tearing action is going on down there. You know—muscle damage, recovery, gain. Classic fitness folklore. If pain equals progress, my ankle deserves a medal.

What’s strange is this: the shoes are a clone of my last pair. Either they’ve been secretly replaced by a trickster model, or I’ve simply forgotten what it felt like to break in the old ones. Memory is a funny thing—especially when it’s limping slightly.

I was a little bummed to cut my run short. I only run one 10K a week, so each one feels like a test. A test of speed, stamina, and occasionally, ego. But doubling up on 10Ks would be asking for trouble—especially with my summer lawn mowing habit. One mowing session = four pounds lost. If mowing were an Olympic sport, I’d be in training camp.

Because of my kidney issues, I can’t load up on protein like a bodybuilder. My dietary rebellion? Homemade yogurt. It’s not steak, but it does its job. My weight’s been steady. My enthusiasm, less so—until this running thing took hold of me.

Honestly, I never thought I’d fall for running. But here I am, haunted by the ghost of an incomplete 10K and feeling twitchy when my weekly kilometer count dips. Do I like running now? Or have I Stockholm Syndromeed myself into it? Hard to say.

Despite the ankle twinges and lost sleep, I felt like I had two bonus hours today. More energy, more time, more me. Maybe this is what my wife experiences every morning. She’s been living in the secret bonus level of the day—and I finally got the cheat code.

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Sunday 10K in Nashville: Beating the Heat, Healing the Brain

Written August 10, 2025

Hello, Dear Readers,

Most Sundays start slow. This one started with a Saturday do-over: a make-up 10K because errands muscled my regular schedule out of the way. Weekend life happens—birthday cakes, family gatherings, and those “we’ll do it Saturday” tasks that somehow multiply like fruit flies on ripe bananas.

In most seasons, I don’t mind the shuffle. But in summer? Nashville turns the heat up like it’s auditioning for a sauna convention. If I don’t start early, I’m basically running on a griddle. My wife solves this by finishing her workout by 6:00 a.m. I, on the other hand, am a medically certified extra-sleep person. After my brain injury, my doctor explained that more sleep is normal—healing brains are busy. Add kidneys that get tired faster than a phone on 1% battery, and yeah, I guard my sleep like it’s a rare collector’s item.

Running, though, is part of my mission to get better. Moving my legs helps my brain rewire. I’ve regained abilities since the stroke, and my doctors cheer on the consistency. I watch what I put in my mouth (not my mouse—been there), and most importantly, I refuse to give up on getting better.

Here’s the twist: I never expected to take running this seriously. At first, it was medicine—do the miles, take the dose. Then it turned into satisfaction—set a goal, hit the goal. Somewhere along the way, I started running better than pre-stroke me. I plan to keep going.

Progress hasn’t been a straight line. My pace improves overall, even if it stalls or dips here and there. Zoom out, and the trend is up—and faster.

Today’s run? Full 10K: target pace in the first half, not quite in the second. Still, I snagged my second-fastest 10K ever and nudged closer to my year-end target. I’ve got a little over three months to shave off another 4 seconds per kilometer. After this week’s wins, that feels more “probable” than “maybe.”

The biggest summer obstacle remains the Nashville furnace. Even if 7:00 a.m. starts friendly, by 10:00 a.m. it’s flirting with the high 80s. I try to outrun the sun; sometimes the sun wins. We’ve had a few mercifully comfortable days, but the heat is sneaking back next week. That’s okay. I’ll control what I can, run smart, and let the dice fall where they may.

TL;DR: Errands happen, heat happens, life happens. I’m still out there—healing, hustling, and inching faster. See you on the road (preferably before the pavement starts sizzling).

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How I Beat the Humidity Boss and Logged My Second Fastest 10K

Written June 7, 2025

Hello Dear Readers,

This morning, I woke up feeling like a well-charged phone—ready to take on my first 10K of June. That enthusiasm lasted about thirty seconds… until my wife, aka the Morning Oracle, gave me a weather update: “It’s humid. Very humid.”

She’s always up at 5 a.m., doing her workout before the Nashville air turns into soup. I try to follow her lead, minus the pre-dawn drama—I have a bit more wiggle room in my schedule. (Perks of being flexible. Or at least pretending to be.)

But wow. Stepping outside felt like walking straight into a sauna hosted by the sun and a wet sponge. My wife, who once lived in Canada, still can’t get over Tennessee summers. She expected dry, crisp warmth—not a full-on oven door to the face every morning. Yet oddly enough, she loves living in Nashville. Go figure. Apparently, greenery and ultra-friendly neighbors make up for atmospheric soup.

And she’s not wrong. The people here are wonderfully nice. We’ve met most of them while running. Seriously—if you jog in our neighborhood, you’re basically signing up for a rotating social club on sneakers. Everyone’s out walking, running, or flexing their lawn-care game. It’s a charming vibe.

Despite the swampy conditions, I hit the pavement anyway. I’ve learned not to negotiate with my feelings in the morning. Motivation is a fair-weather friend—I prefer routines that don’t ask for permission. My wife says the same: “If I waited to feel like it, I’d never get anything done.” High-five to the discipline duo.

By the halfway point, I was just a second behind my target pace. But by the end? I actually clocked in two seconds faster. Take that, humidity boss! This run earned me my second fastest 10K ever, which, considering the weather, feels like unlocking a hidden achievement in a fitness video game.

The week overall? Not too shabby. I’ve been consistent with my workouts, though my upper body still feels the aftershocks of pushups and bicep curls. Sure, I’ll never win a protein shake endorsement deal (thank you, kidney-friendly diet), but I’m definitely stronger and happier than I was a few months ago.

So yes, today’s run may have felt like wading through a damp sponge, but victory tastes pretty sweet—even when it’s served with a side of sweat.

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The Case of the Missing Kilometers: A Summer Running Mystery

Written May 17, 2025

Hello Dear Readers,

Today began with ambition: a 10K run was on the agenda. Shoes laced, legs stretched, I was off. I breezed through the first 5K like a gazelle who’d had a double espresso… then promptly jogged home—not for coffee, but for a much less glamorous reason: nature called, and she wasn’t leaving a voicemail.

Mid-bathroom break, a revelation struck me (because naturally, my most productive thinking happens next to a toilet): I had only done half the distance I intended. Oops. Apparently, my brain thought it was a 5K day. Distracted? Possibly. Possessed by lazy Saturday energy? Likely.

But hey, silver lining: I usually run the same 5K loop twice for a full 10K. So, I just slapped on my shoes again and headed out for round two. Voilà! A split-level 10K.

I use the Adidas Running app to track my kilometers, pace, and whatever else it measures while silently judging my life choices. It’s a free app—yes, free—and surprisingly robust. A nephrologist (yes, kidney doctor turned running app guru) recommended it. Now both my wife and I are part of the Adidas app cult. There’s a premium version, but the free one already does everything short of making you breakfast.

Of course, the app doesn’t understand “bathroom detour logic.” It logged my run as two separate 5Ks. According to my phone, I didn’t complete a 10K—I just got wildly enthusiastic about doing the exact same 5K twice. Technically true. But also deeply unhelpful.

To be honest, I’ve felt mildly off-schedule lately. My weekends have been a flurry of activity—Indiana trips, birthday parties, unexpected chaos. My new summer routine has been more “choose your own adventure” than “disciplined athlete.” Today was, in fact, my first proper Saturday 10K since adopting the summer schedule. That explains the weird déjà vu and temporal confusion.

Why the switch-up? Simple: summers in Nashville are hot and humid. Not just “sweat-a-bit” humid—more like “is-the-air-soup?” humid. My wife, the smart one, runs at 5:30 a.m. to dodge the worst of it. Even then, she sometimes returns looking like she swam the route. If you’re thinking of running later in the day, don’t. Just don’t.

I’ve shifted to morning runs too—not just to beat the heat, but because it makes the whole day run smoother. Early run means early shower, early breakfast, and fewer “hangry while vacuuming” episodes. Trust me, those are not pretty.

Still, I’m baffled that I forgot I was doing a 10K today. Maybe it’s summer brain. Maybe I was subconsciously hoping to avoid it. Maybe my legs staged a tiny rebellion. Who knows? What I do know is that I’ve missed three Saturday 10Ks in a row thanks to life’s little curveballs, and today finally felt like a return to the groove—even if it came with a bathroom intermission.

Next week, I’ll be more focused. Or at least I’ll try not to confuse a 10K with a 5K. But if I forget again, maybe I’ll just start calling it “interval training with plumbing awareness.” Sounds fancy, doesn’t it?

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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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Reflections on My 1,000 KM Running Goal: Lessons and Adjustments

Written December 15, 2024

Hello Dear Readers,

So, I checked my progress toward my 1,000 km running goal again to ensure I wasn’t wrong the other day. I reconfirmed that I will reach my goals within this year. All I need to do is do another round of 10k runs. 

While checking my logs, I analyzed why my total distance run was much lower than the prior year. After all, I aimed for 25k per week, so I should have hit 1300k. Then, I realized I started using this app on February 23, 2024. Then, we went on a vacation. Missing nearly 2 months makes a massive difference in the distance, approximately 200 km.

Additionally, before I adopted my early morning running schedule during the hot summer, there were days when I skipped running due to the heat. I figured out how to deal with the summer heat in Tennessee, and it will be good for next year. Some days, I shortened my 10k runs to only 5k due to excess heat.

Since I know I ran during January and early February, I suspect I have already run over 1000 kilometers this year. However, since I’m using my app as my official record, I still want to get those numbers to meet my goal.

Why am I doing this? My wife calls it variance analysis. Variance analysis analyzes the GAP between goals and the prior year. It helps me create realistic goals. During 2024, I learned many things, such as switching my running schedule to extreme weather. 

I will shave off 1 minute from a 5km run for the following year. I am considering mixing my run with long and short runs to improve my speed.

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This Is How I Overcame The Aftereffect of Brain Stroke

Written September 18, 2024

Hello Dear Readers,

I saw my running pace has improved significantly in the last couple of days, and I’m thrilled about the results. The temperature has dropped considerably compared to a few weeks ago. The cooler weather has made a noticeable difference to my running as I found it easier to push myself further. I’ve recently achieved my target pace of below 10 minutes per kilometer, and today, I hit a new personal best for my 5k time.

It’s hard to believe how far I’ve come since my brain stroke in 2015. Back then, my brain struggled to send signals to my legs, even though I remembered exactly how to walk or run. It felt like typing on a disconnected keyboard—no matter what I did, there was no response. The doctors explained that my neural pathway for walking or running had completely vanished. I had to relearn everything from scratch, starting with weeks of rehabilitation just to take a few steps.

Those early months were challenging. Learning to walk without a walker or any support took a tremendous amount of effort and time. I faced another hurdle at work, where my brain couldn’t filter out unnecessary information, making it difficult to focus. Then, I truly understood the intricate abilities we take for granted.

Determined not to give up, my wife and I began walking every day, although I had to rest frequently just to cover 1.5 miles. Then, one day, I told her I wanted to learn how to run. She was understandably concerned at first because the running could strain my kidneys. I was serious about it. I started with my old running shoes, but it wasn’t really running—more like fast walking, with a lot of stumbling. After a month of trying, my wife suggested I get a good pair of running shoes. That small change made a huge difference, making each step feel lighter.

To track my progress, she set up an Excel sheet where I could log my runs, and she even got me the Zombie Run app to add some excitement to my routine. It turned my running into an adventure rather than a chore.

It took years for me to see the full extent of my progress. When we moved to Tennessee in 2018, my mother noticed the muscle definition in my calves. When I lost my mobility after my stroke, I had lost so much muscle mass in the months following my stroke that it felt like a victory to have someone point out my runner’s legs. My endurance had also increased, allowing me to tackle more tasks without feeling exhausted. I felt genuinely proud of myself for the first time in a long while.

After achieving my distance goal last year, I decided to focus more on improving my pace. It added extra challenges as I had to monitor my pace during my run. I get tired very quickly because of my kidney, so I have to know when to stop pushing myself. My running suffers during summer due to its heat. Despite a few setbacks along the way, I kept moving forward. My goal is to set a new best at least once a week, and I’ve been getting multiple of my fastest records in rows. Now, I find myself wondering how many personal records I can possibly create.

The journey hasn’t been easy, but every small victory feels monumental. And with each run, I’m reminded of how far I’ve come—from relearning to walk to becoming someone who now sets running records. It’s a journey that’s as much about perseverance as it is about running.