Today, I’ve elected to forego leaf collection. Due to the warm rainy days last week, I decided to mow the lawn. As I mowed the lawn for the last time, I mulched the remaining leaves in our yard to the point I could skip leaving vacuuming chores for the day. Compared to the previous week, we are having some cold days. My body was somewhat used to the warmer days; I am having difficulty adjusting to this chilly weather again.
We usually don’t have to mow around this time. I was somewhat disappointed at needing to mow again, as I had thought I’d finished that chore for the year. Somehow, the weather had its own plans. The erratic weather resulted in some late extra growth to create a little spring to the point that promoted grass and trees to create some new greens. Hopefully, I’ve now reached the end of mowing for the year.
The mower mulched the relatively few leaves on our lawn, leaving it reasonably clear. So, skipping the leaves will be a pleasant break for me. I noticed some of my neighbors started to put Christmas decorations outside. Once Thanksgiving is over, there will be a lot more decorations.
Ever since my brain stroke, I have learned to be consistent. I can’t imagine how I changed. I was more impulsive and liked to procrastinate. When I had to re-learn even basic actions, such as how to eat or walk, it taught me to be more patient. I learned that the best way to avoid forgetting to do something is to plan well and create a checklist. My wife is big on planning and making checklists. She jokes she does not trust herself to be consistent otherwise.
I realized that consistency has excellent benefits. For one, I was able to run 10 km without problems. I even started doing my muscle training, and I gained a lot more muscle. I always had toned muscles because I used to do gymnastics. When I was in bed for almost two months after the stroke, I lost a lot of muscles. I sleep and wake up at the intended time, so my biological clock works. I had difficulties reading books due to my eyes, so my wife got me audiobooks. I listened to my audiobooks all the time. I also learned how to cook and Japanese. Now, I pick up on writing.
Chores, like vacuuming leaves or even mowing, need consistency. I get tired much faster than before, especially when the weather is extreme. I will do as much as possible within my capacity, but I do them consistently. I get them done all the time. If I think like that, I lost a lot from my brain stroke, but I also gained good habits from it.
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.
Today brought some good news—my efforts have finally paid off. During my run, I achieved the pace I’ve been aiming for as part of my end-of-year goal. This achievement is a significant milestone for me, and it feels incredible to see my progress. Because of this success, I’ve set a new rule for myself: for each run, I will reduce my pace time by 5 seconds. The challenge I’ve given myself is to beat this reduced pace twice in a row, with no more than two failures in between. Once I accomplish that, I’ll lock in my end-of-year pace goal at the new speed.
One thing I’ve come to realize is how different it feels to focus on pace rather than just distance. Initially, my running goals were all about how far I could go. But now, I’ve become more conscious of the nuances involved in pacing myself, and it’s an entirely different experience. Running pace can fluctuate based on many factors I hadn’t considered before. For example, external temperature can give me a boost or slow me down considerably. Cooler days tend to energize me, while hotter days can make running feel like an uphill battle. Similarly, wind and weather conditions greatly influence how well I perform. A strong headwind can be exhausting, while a nice tailwind makes me feel like flying.
My physical condition is another critical factor. One day, I might feel full of energy and ready to tackle my run, while the next day, my body might feel heavy, making it harder to keep a steady pace. These variables make running a more dynamic challenge than I initially anticipated, and it has taught me to be flexible with my expectations.
In addition to pacing, I’ve also learned the importance of taking care of my body during this journey. Overexertion is a real risk, especially when the weather is extreme. Running too long in the blazing summer heat can be dangerous, mainly if I run low on water. I must constantly monitor hydration, as it can make or break a good run. Additionally, I’ve realized that I need to prioritize rest when my muscles are sore or not recovering properly. Pushing through without adequate recovery could lead to injuries or setbacks, which I want to avoid.
I also have specific dietary restrictions that make recovery more challenging. Since I have limits on my protein intake, I have to be careful not to lose muscle through overexertion. Muscle loss is a real concern for me, so I’m mindful of balancing my exercise with the nutrients my body needs to repair and grow. Monitoring my calorie intake is another part of the process. I need to fuel my body for these runs without going overboard. Through it all, I remind myself I’m running to improve and strengthen my body—not harm it. This is a promise I made to myself when I first started running, and it’s something I hold onto as I continue to progress.
My running journey began after I lost mobility due to a brain stroke. It was a tough time, but after several months of rehabilitation, I was able to walk again. Eventually, I worked my way up to running, a huge victory. Now, I’m running and pushing myself to get faster. While it’s still a struggle to improve my speed, I’m determined to keep going, step by step.
Today, I want to celebrate my success. It’s easy to get caught up in the next goal, the next challenge, but it’s essential to take a moment to appreciate how far I’ve come. I’m thrilled with how today’s run went, and it serves as a reminder that progress is possible, no matter how difficult the journey may seem.
I look forward to what comes next and am excited to see where this running journey takes me.
My English could have been better when I first arrived in North America. I had passed the TOEFL exam well enough to enter a Canadian university, but my reading skills needed to improve. In my first year, I often had to read my textbooks five times with a dictionary to keep up with my coursework.
Reading has been a passion of mine since childhood. Back then, it was hard to find Japanese books in Canada, so I had no choice but to read English books.
I would be lying if I said it was easy. It was nothing but frustration. It took me trial and error to improve my English. I was desperate to satisfy my reading needs. With patience, I eventually reached a point where I could read English as if I were reading in Japanese.
I know that foreign books are more accessible online in North America nowadays. You can even get a translator for your web reading.
Reading books has many benefits, and so many books are written in English. Suppose you want to learn to read books in English as a second language. In that case, I have something to share about my learning experience. Today, I want to talk about how I improved my English reading skills.
Reading but Not Understanding
In my first year, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t fully grasp the stories I read. It gets more complicated to read novels. Unlike textbooks, Novels follow a relaxed format, making them more challenging for me to understand than academic papers.
A novel contains plots to create a story. A book has many components, such as a theme, characters, symbolism, etc., to create a story. Each of these components is connected to understanding a story you are reading. Unfortunately, I spent so much energy deciphering each word that I couldn’t spare any mental capacity to connect these components or to visualize a story. The book was full of English words I understood individually with the help of a dictionary. Still, I could not piece them together into a coherent narrative.
Then there were phrases like “cat got your tongue,” which made me think my book had turned into a horror story. It took me a while to understand these kinds of expressions. Such informal idioms aren’t used in Japanese to describe someone being unusually quiet.
When you’re “reading” like I was, you cannot summarize the chapter you are reading. All my focus was on translating words, so my brain ultimately gave up on understanding the story.
I often wondered if reading English books could have been a better use of time. I struggled to comprehend them, which was a frustrating experience.
Interruption of Reading
Suppose you are reading a book way above your reading level. In that case, you will interrupt your reading whenever you encounter unknown words. I found I needed a flow of reading to focus on the book’s story. Looking up too many unknown words interrupts the flow. Our brains aren’t designed to multitask. Every time I looked up a word, it distracted me from reading. Although it was essential to look up new words, it took my focus away each time I opened my dictionary.
It did not help; I used an English dictionary, not a Japanese-English dictionary. My English teacher suggested switching to an English-only dictionary so it would force me to think like an English speaker. It was hard. Sometimes, I even had to look up the definitions of words in my dictionary. We didn’t use Google Translate or our smartphone to look up either. I may have given up if I wasn’t so desperate for books.
I was getting very frustrated at this point. No matter how many books I “read,” my English reading skills never improved. I am wasting my time.
If A Book Reading Is Too Difficult, Pick an Easier One
There was a turning point in my life with books. It was more like luck.
During a trip to Prince Edward Island, I picked up “Anne of Green Gables,” a book I had enjoyed many times in grade school. To my surprise, I scanned it without any difficulties. Encouraged, I bought the second and third books in the series and read them just as smoothly. This experience made me realize I had been attempting books that were too advanced for my current reading level, so I decided to return to the basics.
I began with books for elementary schoolers, such as Anne of Green Gables, Little House on the Prairie, and the early Harry Potter books aimed at younger readers. Having previously read these stories in Japanese was a huge help.
A friend lent me several books by V.C. Andrews, which were also relatively easy to understand. Reading multiple books by the same author was beneficial because authors usually use a consistent vocabulary, reducing my need for a dictionary.
Reader’s DigestWas My Other Alternative
Reader’s Digest was another helpful resource for improving my English reading skills. The magazine featured short excerpts from various books, perfect for people too busy to read full-length novels. These brief passages were ideal for quick reading sessions between classes on busy school days.
Since Reader’s Digest was for adults, I am still determining how much I enjoyed reading it. All I knew was that each was a shorter version of a book. There are a few stories I would like to read all the books for, but the library near my apartment doesn’t have them since our area is predominantly French-speaking.
Suddenly, I Was Enjoying A Book
I noticed that I was gaining vocabulary. Over time, I found myself reaching for the dictionary less frequently. The first book I fully grasped on my first attempt was Dean Koontz’s “Watchers.” The thrill of understanding it completely was so exhilarating that I read through the night despite feeling guilty about losing sleep. The sense of satisfaction was unforgettable.
At the time, I was remembering my childhood in Japan. My parents scolded me for reading books at night when I was supposed to be sleeping. I was excited. This was a serious turning point for me when reading English books. I started reading much more books. Importantly, I enjoyed reading them immensely. I improved my reading skills a lot faster after this point.
Being a student with a limited budget, I could only afford to buy a few books, so I often visited the local library. It wasn’t an extensive library but a welcoming place that brought me joy. I stumbled upon a series called “The Cat Who…” by Lilian Jackson Braun. I got hooked on Asimov’s science fiction.
It took me about two years to reach this level of reading proficiency after moving to North America.
Some Classic Books Were Still Difficult
Since I could read books for adults, I wanted to read some classic books. So, I tried to read James Joyce’s Ulysses. How wrong I was! It was all over again. I was “reading” but not understanding the story. I also tried to read Illiad, and I had the same problem.
This time, I start reading classics that are easier to understand or something I’ve already read in the past. Despite the significant roadblock in reading some classic books, I could still read classics used in high school. I read “A Tale of Two Cities” by Dickens, Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte, and Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen. I think there’s a reason schools encourage students to read these books—they may be conceptually difficult, but they’re more approachable.
Conclusion
Here’s what I’ve learned from my journey to improve my reading skills: if you need help understanding a book, try something less complex. Just as skiing down an advanced slope is risky for beginners, and playing Chopin’s Etudes is challenging for new piano students, reading requires progressively building your skills.
Starting with books whose stories you already know can be beneficial. Since you’re familiar with the plot, you can focus more on language and structure.
Be patient with your learning curve. Everyone progresses at their own pace. Instead of measuring your progress week by week, consider looking at it over more extended periods, like six months.
Despite my passion for books, I have also struggled to develop my reading skills. If you are having the same problems as I am, I want you to reflect on some of the things I’ve learned. I know it requires effort. Eventually, my efforts made me get what I wanted: to read English books. I hope my story inspires others facing similar challenges.
From a young age, I’ve battled with an impulsive streak. Ideas would hardly settle in my mind before I found myself acting on them. This trait often landed me in hot water, especially during my school days. I recall sitting in class, deeming the lecture both dull and incorrect, and voicing my disagreement without a moment’s hesitation. Over time, I learned to curb these impulses, training myself to pause and make conscious choices before reacting. Although perfection eluded me, I gradually gained a semblance of control over my actions, a victory in its own right.
However, this hard-earned self-control was one of the casualties of my stroke. Suddenly, I found myself grappling anew with my old impulsivity, which made itself known in ways both frustrating and perilous, particularly during my initial stay at a care center. A typical example was my frequent, middle-of-the-night awakenings with an urgent need for bathroom use. Under normal circumstances, this would be a straightforward, albeit annoying, situation. However, in my post-stroke weakened state, these moments became fraught with danger.
I vividly remember one such instance when, on the immediate impulse to get out of bed, I sprawled on the floor. The loud buzzing of an alarm followed, signaling a nurse to my unintended distress call. After triggering the bed’s alarm system, I faced a stern reprimand. I was instructed to press a call button and wait for assistance instead of attempting to rise. Despite this clear directive, the impulse to get up before remembering to press the button happened repeatedly, each incident a stark reminder of my diminished control.
As the frequency of these accidents increased, my wife and mother alternated nights by my side, vigilantly ensuring that I didn’t fall out of bed. This period of intense vulnerability was humbling and highlighted the extent to which my stroke had stripped away the coping mechanisms I had painstakingly developed over the years. Alongside the resurgence of impulsivity, I discovered a heightened distractibility that made concentration a formidable challenge.
Reflecting on these experiences, I recognize that the journey of recovery and adaptation is as much about relearning and restructuring old strategies as it is about physical rehabilitation. The process is slow and often discouraging, but it is also filled with moments of profound learning and personal insight. Regaining control over my impulsivity hasn’t just been about preventing physical falls; it’s been crucial in reestablishing a sense of agency and self-assurance shaken by my stroke.
In sharing my story, I hope to offer solace and understanding to those navigating similar challenges. Whether it’s due to a stroke or another life-altering event, the path to reclaiming bits of oneself can be arduous and steep. Yet, with perseverance and support, gradual progress is possible. It’s a testament to the human spirit’s resilience and adaptability to unforeseen changes.
With the daylight saving time change recently behind us, I assumed that a good night’s sleep would help me recover all the energy I had lost. However, I’ve found it challenging to keep up with my morning exercise routine. Today, I still have a few exercises left unfinished, and coming down the stairs after my pull-ups was particularly tough. It felt as though I was dragging my own dead weight every step of the way.
My body is likely trying to tell me something—maybe I haven’t fully recovered from my previous workouts. I know the importance of being mindful of my body’s signals, though part of me hesitates to acknowledge it. I’m driven by my goals, yet I’m aware that pushing myself too hard could lead to unnecessary injuries.
Despite my concerns, something shifted when I started doing my pull-ups. Initially daunting, the exercise became surprisingly manageable as I progressed, and soon, my dread dissipated. By the end of my set, I didn’t feel like I was lugging around dead weight anymore. Instead, I felt lighter and more energetic, possibly thanks to an endorphin rush that helped negate my fatigue.
Reflecting on this, I realize that my tiredness might have been a lingering effect from yesterday’s lawn mowing. Sometimes, it takes a bit of pushing to truly understand whether I’m up for a workout. Of course, it’s crucial to avoid overexerting myself. I’m proud that I didn’t give in to my initial reluctance to exercise. It would have been easy to skip the session under the guise of preventing injury, but overcoming that mental barrier has left me feeling more accomplished.
I find myself infused with a modest surge of excitement today as the thaw has finally made the roads passable for running. The grip of winter has loosened slightly, allowing me to entertain the thought of hitting the pavement once more after a hiatus of just over a week. Unlike the often snowy expanses of the northern United States, where the white blanket is a familiar scene, Nashville presents a unique challenge with its icy conditions. The slippery roads here make the prospect of running not just daunting but potentially perilous. Given these conditions, I made the cautious choice to forego my outdoor runs.
The interruption in my running routine stirred a flicker of concern within me—a worry that this break might slow or set me back. However, I quickly silenced these pessimistic thoughts, reassuring myself of the resilience and adaptability of my body and spirit. The brief pause, I reminded myself, would not be a significant hindrance. Indeed, I should focus on the positive, anticipating the joy and fulfillment of resuming my runs. The prospect of getting back on track, feeling the rhythm of my feet against the ground, is a source of genuine happiness.
During these inactive days, I’ve noticed a tangible shift in my nightly routine—sleep has been more elusive, a direct consequence of my body’s lack of physical exhaustion. And now, as if to test my resolve, the forecast promises a morning of rain. Running under a downpour is far from ideal, often feeling more like a chore than a pleasure. Yet, I consider it, hopeful for a brief respite in the weather that might allow for a dry run. Fortunately, the forecast does not predict thunderstorms, which means that while the run may be soggy, it won’t be hazardous. With this knowledge, I steel myself for the challenge, determined to push through the discomfort.
Reflecting on this period of enforced rest, I realized that running has become an integral part of my life. It’s not merely a physical activity but a mental and emotional lifeline, a ritual that sustains me. The snow, with all its silence and stillness, has inadvertently illuminated the profound significance of this habit in my life. It’s a reminder of the resilience required in the face of winter’s chill and all aspects of life’s unpredictable journey.
This experience, this temporary pause, has only deepened my appreciation for the ability to run, move, and feel the earth beneath my feet. It’s a testament to the enduring human spirit, to our capacity to face obstacles, whether icy roads or internal doubts, and to emerge stronger, more committed, and more grateful for the simple, profound joy of running.
