The Weather’s a Trickster, and So Is My Mind

Written January 20, 2025

Hello Dear Readers,

Today, Nashville has officially decided to test my limits. It’s the coldest day of the season so far, and yesterday, it even had the nerve to snow—just a little. But instead of sticking around like a proper winter scene, the snow pulled a vanishing act. Gone. No trace. Like it had second thoughts about being here, this left me with an internal debate: No snow means the roads are fine, so I should go run. But the air feels like it was imported straight from the Arctic, so maybe I should… not.

Cue the battle of wills. On one side, the rational me: You’ll feel great once you get going! Running in the cold builds character! Think of the endorphins! On the other side, the devil on my shoulder: It’s freezing. Your couch is warm. You could stay inside and drink something hot like a civilized person. The devil makes a compelling argument.

Nashville’s weather, I’ve realized, operates on its own chaotic logic. We don’t get those long, predictable seasons like in Portland, Oregon, where I used to live. Instead, we get extremes—either melting asphalt in summer or air that bites in winter. My body, thanks to an uncooperative autonomic nervous system, doesn’t adjust well. Before my brain stroke, I used to think my wife had the most finicky internal thermostat—too hot, too cold, too humid, too dry, never just right. Now? I am the reigning champion of temperature intolerance. The gold medalist of feeling the weather too much.

So, I compromised. Instead of heading out first thing in the morning like usual, I postponed my run. Maybe if I waited, the temperature would rise a little. Maybe the sun would be kind and throw me a few degrees of mercy. Spoiler: It won’t. Today is one of those days where the high temperature and the low temperature are essentially the same. In other words, cold now, cold later, cold forever.

Eventually, I’ll have to face the inevitable: bundling up like I’m about to summit Everest and forcing myself out the door. The plan is simple—hit my target pace for the first 5K, and I get to stop early. One hour in the cold, no more. If I don’t hit that pace? Well, then I’m stuck running the full 10K as punishment. My version of self-accountability: run fast or run more.

I know, logically, that once I start moving, the cold will be less of an issue. The first five minutes will be miserable, but then my body will adjust, and I’ll find my rhythm. I always do. The real challenge isn’t the temperature—it’s shutting up the part of my brain that keeps whispering excuses.

So, off I go. Because if I give in to the couch today, what’s stopping me from doing it tomorrow? And the next day? That’s how routines fall apart. That’s how discipline slips. And that’s not happening.

Not today, Devil.

Freezing, Running, and My War on Winter

Written January 15, 2025

Hello Dear Readers,

Ah, procrastination—my old, frosty friend. Today, it’s teaming up with the weather as I wait for the thermometer to nudge just above freezing. Sure, it’ll still be cold, but freezing feels like the universal “nope” line. Good news? I don’t have to wait long. Bad news? My calves are staging a coup from Monday’s run, and my right knee is voicing its displeasure. But let’s be real. Neither is dramatic enough to get me out of today’s self-imposed “fun run.”

Speaking of fun, I’ve implemented a new policy: no hitting the target pace, no stopping early. Brilliant, right? Until you realize it means running longer than planned. Outside, the chill has zero festive charm—no snowflakes, no sparkly icicles, just a vast, icy wasteland that feels like nature’s walk-in freezer. I don’t remember it being this cold in the last five years here. Winter’s overachieving, and frankly, it’s rude.

Flashback to yesterday: I returned from my run absolutely frozen. Pro tip: while running does raise your body temperature, it apparently has limits. When the air is so cold that your body says, “You know what? Nope, you’re on your own,” it’s time to reevaluate life choices—or at least your wardrobe. My wife, ever the voice of reason, gently reminded me to wear a hat. Thankfully, I’ve got a winter headgear setup that would make Arctic explorers jealous. So, my ears are safe, even if the rest of me feels like a popsicle.

Now, I’m gearing up for today’s showdown. The plan? Beat my target pace in the first 5k and call it a day. If not, I’ll push to 10k because stubbornness is my superpower. It’s a tactical adjustment to keep me on track with my yearly distance goal while nudging my speed in the right direction. Realistically, most of my gains will come in the more cooperative seasons of spring and fall. But hey, winter’s a worthy nemesis, and I’m not backing down.

Here’s hoping today’s run brings a win—and maybe, just maybe, slightly warmer toes.

Snow Day Fitness Struggle and Challenges

Written January 10, 2025

Hello Dear Readers,

Snow day vibes are in full swing! The official news of school closures arrived this morning, and honestly, it felt like getting a surprise day off—a winter gift wrapped in frost. Outside, it’s snowing again, so my running shoes are sitting this one out. Our neighborhood, with its steep hills, is basically a snow-covered obstacle course right now, and I’d prefer not to star in my own accidental slapstick comedy. I already skipped Monday’s run, which triggered some minor guilt, but today’s weather is infinitely worse. Oh well—what’s done is done. I’m choosing to focus on the positives, like the promising forecast for next week. By next Saturday, it’s supposed to warm up to a balmy 50°F. Just imagine—no snow, no ice, and (hopefully) no excuses.

Now, let me entertain you with yesterday’s little home gym drama. The trusty planking platform, which has been part of our workout routine for over a year, decided it couldn’t take the pressure anymore and developed a charming crack. My immediate thought? Break out the super glue and duct tape—it’s basically the DIY version of “Hold my protein shake; I’ve got this.” However, my wife, ever the pragmatist, put a firm stop to my repair dreams. Her argument? Something about not wanting to risk a workout injury that could land us in physical therapy. Fair point. So, it looks like we’re shopping for a new planking platform soon. The old one has been semi-retired, and I’ve promised to say my goodbyes with grace.

In the meantime, today’s planking session had to happen the old-fashioned way—right on the floor. Let me tell you, switching to the bare floor brings an entirely different level of focus. It’s just you, the timer on your app, and the creeping realization that the seconds seem to stretch longer than usual when there’s no fancy gadget involved. Staying in the game without the platform was surprisingly tough. Who knew planking could turn into such a mental battle?

On the bright side, improvising my workout at home made me realize I don’t need all the bells and whistles to stay active, even if the process isn’t as smooth. Plus, there’s a certain charm to adapting and pushing through despite the odds—or at least that’s what I’m telling myself to feel better about today’s chaotic workout.

So, as the snow continues to fall, I’m trying to embrace this cozy pause while keeping one eye on the brighter days ahead. Here’s hoping for clear skies, clear roads, and fewer broken fitness gadgets in the near future.

Stay warm, stay active (even if it’s on the floor), and as always, stay fabulous!

365 Days of Planking: My (Not-So-Secret) Superpower

Written December 29, 2024

Hello Dear Readers,

Guess who’s feeling like an absolute champ this morning? Spoiler alert: It’s me. Why, you ask? Because I’ve just hit a milestone that has me walking a little taller (probably thanks to my newly improved core strength). Drumroll, please… I’ve officially completed 365 consecutive days of planking! That’s an entire year of showing up, holding steady, and giving gravity a run for its money.

Now, let’s set some realistic expectations here. I’m not exactly a Guinness World Record holder or prepping for a plank-off with The Rock (yet). But I’m pretty proud of my progress. Right now, I’m inching closer to holding a solid 3-minute plank in one go. And let me tell you, it feels pretty amazing, considering where I started.

When I first embarked on this journey, my initial plank attempts barely scraped the one-minute mark. I’d start strong, shaking within 30 seconds, and collapse in a heap by 60. It wasn’t exactly graceful, but it was a start. Every habit begins somewhere, right? Fast-forward to today, and I can confidently say those early struggles have paid off. Three minutes may not seem too impressive, but for me, it’s a pretty big deal—and it’s proof that consistency works wonders.

The app I use has been my trusty sidekick throughout this journey. It keeps me on track, celebrates my streaks with little virtual confetti bursts (because who doesn’t love confetti?), and has been a surprisingly effective motivator. Seeing that little streak number climb higher and higher kept me committed, even on those days when the idea of planking sounded about as fun as a root canal.

This habit has become such a natural part of my routine that I can’t imagine starting my day without it. It’s like my morning coffee but with fewer jitters and more abs. And while I’m thrilled with my progress, I know there’s always room for improvement. My next goal is to see how far I can push my limits—not just in time but also in form and focus. Because, let’s face it, a 5-minute plank sounds impressive, but not if I’m doing it with my hips in the air like a triangle.

Of course, there’s always the possibility I’ll hit a practical limit at some point. Maybe my body will say, “Okay, this is as far as we’re going,” or my brain will decide to switch things up. And that’s fine, too. Goals evolve, habits shift, and new challenges emerge. I’ll reevaluate, adjust, and keep moving forward when that happens.

For now, though, I’m basking in the glow of this achievement. Here’s to staying consistent, celebrating progress, and tackling new goals with the same determination. Who knows? Maybe in another year, I’ll be writing about my 730-day streak—or teaching a masterclass in planking. Until then, I’m sticking to my plan, one plank at a time.

Stay strong, and as always, plan on!

Rest, Recovery, and Rediscovering My Run

Written December 26, 2024

Hello Dear Readers,

I skipped my Wednesday run, which felt like breaking an unspoken rule in my routine. Why? Because my knee decided it was time to be the squeaky wheel—or, in this case, the squeaky joint. That makes three full days off from running, and honestly, I’m okay with it. Here’s why: I’ve seen what happens when you don’t give your body time to heal. My wife once pushed through an injury, thinking she was invincible, and let’s just say her recovery became a long-term project. I’d rather learn from her experience than repeat it. 

When your knee is unhappy, you suddenly realize how much you depend on it. For instance, going down the stairs earlier this week was like walking a tightrope while juggling knives—not exactly graceful. It was a sharp reminder to pay attention to the signals my body was sending. On Tuesday and Wednesday, every descent was a little “ouch” here and a little “yikes” there. But today? The stairs and I are back to being friends. My knee no longer complains, which I’m taking as a good sign.

This forced break has been an interesting shift. As a runner, rest days feel like a guilty pleasure, like sneaking a second slice of cake when no one’s watching. But sometimes, your body needs that slice of metaphorical cake—or, in this case, a few days to repair itself. Skipping runs isn’t easy for me; I love the rhythm of hitting the pavement and the mental clarity it brings. But I’d rather take three days off now than risk being sidelined for weeks later.

Rest has its perks, though. I’ve caught up on some reading, spent more time planning my next running goals, and even got an extra hour of sleep here and there. (Who knew recovery could feel this luxurious?) More importantly, I can feel the difference in my knee. It no longer twinges when I walk downstairs, and it’s not screaming for attention every time I move. That’s progress I can celebrate.

I’ll lace up my running shoes again tomorrow, and I’m hopeful it’ll be a smooth, pain-free return. With three days of rest under my belt, I feel like a sprinter at the starting block, ready to channel all my pent-up energy into a fast, satisfying run. There are no guarantees I’ll break any records, but hey, after days of forced patience, even a moderate jog will feel like a victory lap.

If there’s one takeaway from this experience, it’s this: listen to your body. Rest isn’t the enemy—it’s the secret weapon for coming back stronger. Whether it’s your knee, your back, or just a sense of exhaustion creeping in, sometimes stepping back is the best way to keep moving forward.