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.