Tag: Stroke Recovery

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Mowing With CKD: Half Done and Fully Determined

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

Lawn mowing sounds simple, right? Fire up the mower, walk in straight lines, and admire the results. For most people, maybe! But when you’re living with chronic kidney disease, mowing the lawn is less of a weekend chore and more of a strategic endurance event, complete with nutrition planning, weight monitoring, and the kind of careful snack selection that would make a nutritionist both proud and slightly nervous.

Here’s the thing: I get tired faster than your average healthy adult. That’s just the reality of CKD, and I’ve made my peace with it. So rather than throw up my hands and let the grass grow into a lion-worthy savannah, I’ve spent years training to build up muscle mass and endurance. And it works! I feel noticeably stronger than I used to. The catch? More muscle means more nutrition needed, and when you’re adding physical activity like mowing on top of an already-restricted diet, the math gets tricky.

Last summer was a real lesson in the delicate art of weight management. With my protein intake limited by my kidney condition, recovering from physical exertion is genuinely hard. I can drop five pounds in a single week if I’m not careful, which is exactly the kind of dramatic number that makes my doctor raise an eyebrow and pick up the phone. So during the warmer months, I snack strategically throughout the day.

And I do mean strategically. It turns out the snack aisle is full of landmines when you have CKD. Bananas? Potassium. Cantaloupe? Also potassium. Those bright, cheerful, colorful vegetables? Phosphate. Even ice cream, the one food that feels universally harmless, came with a gentle but firm talking-to from my doctor when it started affecting my liver function. So I rotate. I experiment. And I’ve settled into a habit of making small pastry bites each week. They’re my secret weapon: portable, reliable, and doctor-approved-adjacent.

This past mowing session, I grabbed my water and pastry bites and headed out to tackle the first mow of the week. The weather cooperated beautifully, not too hot, not too cold, just that sweet spring window before the humidity rolls in and turns yard work into a sauna experience. Two hours later, I had finished roughly half the yard. My reward? A weight check showed I’d gained 2.6 pounds over yesterday, nudging me a little closer to my target range. Not quite there yet, but progress is progress.

Next up: strawberries. I’m thinking a smoothie, strawberries, juice, yogurt, all blended into something cold and celebratory. Half a lawn, a small weight gain, and a smoothie on the horizon. Some days, that’s what winning looks like.

Until next time,

— Your friendly neighborhood lawn warrior (half done, fully determined)

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Running in Spring: Patience, Progress & Bad Weather Days

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

Mother Nature, it seems, has never heard of consistency, unlike me. One day she’s all sunshine and warmth, luring me outside in shorts, and the next she’s quietly laughing as I dig out my long sleeves again. That was yesterday: a chilly curveball after a perfectly nice day, which somehow made it feel even colder than it actually was.

Here’s the thing about my body: my brain stroke left me with a bit of a broken thermostat. Warming up and cooling down take me far longer than they used to, so picking the right outfit before a run isn’t just a fashion choice, it’s a survival strategy. Layers in, layers out; I’m basically a human onion on legs.

The good news is that next week is looking gloriously mid-to-high 70s across the board. I’ll take it. Yesterday’s run, though? Not my finest hour. I missed my target pace and finished the 10th kilometer a full minute-plus behind where I’d hoped to be. My legs are even more sore today than they were yesterday, which I’m choosing to interpret as a sign that they’re busy getting stronger. (This is what runners tell themselves. We’re a hopeful bunch.)

I’ve still got a good stretch of improvement ahead of me before I hit my end-of-year speed goal. Spring is my window; once summer rolls in with its heat and humidity, things tend to slow down whether I like it or not. So I’m planning to make the most of the next few months.

At the end of the day, running is a patience game. I’ve been at this consistently for nearly ten years, and in that time I’ve learned that a bad run doesn’t erase a good one. Some days my legs show up ready to go; other days they’re still settling a grudge from yesterday’s resistance workout. Both kinds of days count. And consistency? That’s the real secret. Not talent, not perfect weather, not the fanciest shoes. Just showing up, over and over, one kilometer at a time.

Until next time, keep putting one foot in front of the other (preferably in weather-appropriate footwear).

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Consistent Running: Patience, Progress & Bad Weather Days

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

Mother Nature, it seems, has never heard of consistency, unlike me. One day she’s all sunshine and warmth, luring me outside in shorts, and the next she’s quietly laughing as I dig out my long sleeves again. That was yesterday: a chilly curveball after a perfectly nice day, which somehow made it feel even colder than it actually was.

Here’s the thing about my body: my brain stroke left me with a bit of a broken thermostat. Warming up and cooling down take me far longer than they used to, so picking the right outfit before a run isn’t just a fashion choice. It’s a survival strategy. Layers in, layers out; I’m basically a human onion on legs.

The good news is that next week is looking gloriously mild, mid-to-high 70s across the board. I’ll take it. Yesterday’s run, though? Not my finest hour. I missed my target pace and finished the 10th kilometer over a full minute behind where I’d hoped to be. My legs are even more sore today than they were yesterday, which I’m choosing to interpret as a sign that they’re busy getting stronger. (This is what runners tell themselves. We’re a hopeful bunch.)

I’ve still got a good stretch of improvement ahead of me before I hit my end-of-year speed goal. Spring is my window. And once summer rolls in with its heat and humidity, things tend to slow down, whether I like it or not. So I’m planning to make the most of the next few months.

At the end of the day, running is a game of patience. I’ve been at this consistently for nearly ten years, and in that time I’ve learned that a bad run doesn’t erase a good one. Some days my legs show up ready to go; other days they’re still settling a grudge from yesterday’s resistance workout. Both kinds of days count. And consistency? That’s the real secret. Not talent, not perfect weather, not the fanciest shoes. Just showing up, over and over, one kilometer at a time.

Until next time, keep putting one foot in front of the other (preferably in weather-appropriate footwear).

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Athena Takes Control: Upgrading Home HVAC

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

Today, we are finally upgrading the home HVAC. Last summer, our HVAC system had what you might diplomatically call “performance issues.” It worked, technically, but not with any particular enthusiasm. My wife and I briefly entertained the idea of minimizing its use. I’m not someone who enjoys living in an icebox. However, when the Nashville heat climbs into the high 80s. What makes it worth it is that it’s a good friend, Humidity. So, not having working air conditioning stops being a lifestyle choice and starts being a public safety concern.

Since my wife had back-to-back meetings today, the HVAC project fell squarely in my lap. This was fine. What was also fine, remarkable, even, was that the morning was finally warm enough to run without requiring an extra layer of psychological fortitude. I do love those mornings. I couldn’t linger, though: the installer was due within the hour, so I channeled that ticking clock into a personal challenge and hit my target pace for the second consecutive run. A small victory before the bigger one of the day. I got home with about a minute to spare, which is exactly the kind of margin that makes a man feel competent.

The crew confirmed what the HVAC technician had been telling us for years: our intake was far too small for the system. This explained a lot, honestly; it had been working harder than it needed to with less airflow than it deserved. Two installers arrived and set to work, and to everyone’s mild surprise, the whole job was done faster than expected. Efficient professionals make everything look easy.

Our New Home HVAC Control System

Now here’s my favorite detail: the new display pad is named “Athena.” Our cat, as regular readers may know, is named Artemis. If you’re keeping track of the Greek goddess count in our household, we are now at two. I am choosing to interpret this as a theme.

The new thermostat is a genuine upgrade, sleek, intuitive, and controllable via an app on my phone that took less time to set up than I expected. I’ve already configured our temperature schedule, and I’ll confess I’ve been playing with it a bit more than strictly necessary. Some people get new toys and can’t put them down; I get HVAC management software. We’re both just happy that this summer should be considerably more comfortable than the last one.

Until next time, may your air stay cool, your intake stay properly sized, and your goddess count stay exactly where you want it.

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Sore Legs, Wrong Pastry, and a Weather Whiplash

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

Let’s start with the good news: my legs are sore. I know, I know,  that sounds like the opposite of good news. But hear me out. After yesterday’s 10k run, my legs staged a full protest this morning, which I’ve chosen to interpret as a standing ovation from my muscles. They don’t usually bother complaining anymore, so the fact that they spoke up today? That means I actually pushed myself, even if my target pace remained stubbornly out of reach. I’ll take the moral victory and the muscle ache.

Now for the… let’s call it an adventure in the kitchen. As part of my summer routine, I batch-make pastry bites on weekends to fuel all the yard work and general outdoor heroics that come with warmer weather, lawn mowing, moving things from one place to another, and looking purposefully at the garden. One pack of puff pastry sheets is enough for me for the whole week. Simple, reliable, delicious.

Except this week, I came home from the grocery store with puff pastry shells instead of sheets.

Now, “shells” and “sheets” share the same first four letters, the same aisle, and apparently the same ability to end up in my cart undetected. The shells are decidedly chunkier — less “delicate pastry bite” and more “substantial pastry commitment.” Since it’s too late to return them, I’ve decided to simply rebrand my snack. We’re not having bites this week. We’re having moments.

I’m blaming this one squarely on the grocery store, which has recently taken great joy in rearranging everything, combined with my own enthusiastic lack of attention to detail. A classic combination.

The silver lining? Temperatures are dropping a full 30 degrees tomorrow after what felt like a surprise summer preview, so at least half my week will involve post-breakfast runs in much more comfortable conditions. This weather truly cannot make up its mind. A few days ago, I was convinced spring had finally arrived. Now winter seems to be circling back for one last curtain call.

But I’ll count this as a free pastry pass, make peace with my chunkier snacks, and resolve to read the label more carefully next time. Onward, sore legs, wrong pastry, and all.

Until next time, may your pastry always be the right kind and your legs only sore enough to feel proud.

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When Snow Saves You From Your Morning Run

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

It started innocently enough: rain tapping at the windows after bedtime, wind doing its best impression of a haunted-house soundtrack, and, by morning, a temperature drop so dramatic it felt personally offended. Forty degrees cooler than yesterday. Forty. Degrees. The weather didn’t just change overnight. It staged a coup.

My wife, ever the morning warrior, still laced up and headed outside for her exercise. She came back reporting winds cold enough to warrant a full winter outfit. Apparently, she and sudden temperature plunges have an ongoing dispute, and she refuses to let the weather win. I admire her deeply. I also admire her from the inside, where it is warm.

As for me, once I’d finished breakfast and reality had fully set in, I did what any sensible person does in the age of smartphones: I consulted the weather app. The forecast, bless its pixelated little heart, informed me that snow was expected to begin within the hour.

Now, I want to be clear: I am not a fair-weather runner. Cold? I’ll suffer through it. Gray skies? Character-building. But actively falling snow is one of my few, carefully preserved conditions for calling off a run. It’s not laziness; It’s principle. With snowflakes on the way, I did what the data demanded: I declared the day a rest day and settled in, quite contentedly, to stay indoors.

The snow did arrive, though it turned out to be something of an underachiever, nothing like the January accumulation that had buried the neighborhood. Temperatures stayed just above freezing, and despite the blustering wind, there were even a few brave souls outside. (I see you, and respect you. I am not joining you.)

But here’s the thing: skipping the outdoor run didn’t mean skipping everything. Resistance training lives indoors, and indoors I did my exercises, thank you very much. Snow: 1, Running: 0, but me and my workout routine? Still undefeated.

Until next time, may your weather apps always give you the excuse you were looking for.

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Nashville Surprise Snow

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

Spring in Nashville is less of a season and more of a personality test — and this week, we are failing it magnificently. Not so long ago, we had some warm days. Today, we received a Nashville surprise snow.

This Sunday, my wife decided to take matters into her own hands and get a head start on the yard. Smart woman. She figured that if she tackled the weeds early, she’d stay ahead of them all season rather than playing frantic catch-up in June. And honestly? She was right — though she did kick off this ambitious plan on a morning when snow is in the forecast for tomorrow evening. Nashville in mid-March: where you can get sunburned and frostbitten in the same week.

While she heroically wrestled the yard into submission, I held down the equally important fort inside. I made her a proper Sunday fancy coffee and a fluffy omelet — because a good support team fuels the troops. I also spent some time prepping my pastry bites for the coming week. Whether I’ll actually need them Monday is another story, since temperatures are predicted to nosedive 20 to 30 degrees overnight. Crazy right? Apparently, Persephone has decided to take a few extra personal days down in the underworld this year and hasn’t quite committed to spring yet. We wait, Persephone. We wait.)

My Wife’s Yard Campaign Against Weed

My wife’s yard campaign was thorough. She pulled out the long weeds that have a habit of tangling themselves around the lawn mower blades at the worst possible moment. She also cleared out the grass and scrubby growth creeping along the foundation of the house — and spotted a few ambitious vines that had quietly decided to make themselves at home near the siding. Vines can damage house siding; left unchecked, they’ll wedge themselves right in and cause real damage. My wife is officially on vine patrol for the rest of the season. The vines have been warned.

The rest of the week is supposed to settle back into something resembling spring. So, I may get back to my morning runs and mowing sessions after breakfast on weekdays. In the meantime, it feels good to be getting back into the Sunday routine — pre-breakfast yardwork, pastry prep, and all.

Until next time — may your weeds stay small, your pastry bites stay crispy, and your local weather app stay at least vaguely honest.

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Getting Back to Yard Work and Hematology Appointment

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

Spring is back — and right on cue, so are my old friends: the weeds, the mower, and my ever-reliable aching back. It’s that glorious time of year when nature says, “Rise and shine!” and my yard replies, “Not so fast.” I have to get back to yard work between my hematology appointment.

This spring comes with a plot twist: I’m now on the every-two-weeks hematology appointment schedule until May, which means my gardening calendar has some medically-mandated detours. But hey, who needs uninterrupted yard time when you can seamlessly juggle blood draws and dandelion dispatching?

On the bright side, I’ve also picked walking back up after my runs — nothing says “efficiency king” like slipping in a stroll while waiting for my Uber. Progress is progress, no matter how leisurely the pace.

As for the weeding? I’ve fully embraced the “every little bit counts” philosophy. Even a quick 10-minute weed-warfare session between commitments adds up. My wife, however, is the undisputed MVP of this household’s horticultural operation. She’s out there every weekday morning, rain or shine, clocking a solid hour with laser focus. Nothing escapes her watchful eye — not a rogue dandelion, not a sneaky crabgrass. Her dedication puts my occasional weekend sprints to shame, and honestly? I am not even embarrassed about it.

Mother Nature, ever the drama queen, hasn’t made things easy. An unusually warm stretch practically rolled out the red carpet for early weed growth, meaning I’ll need to kick off yard duty sooner than last year. Just when I thought I had a few extra weeks of couch time… Of course, this being spring, it’ll probably snow on Tuesday. Classic.

Thursday’s mowing session got quietly axed by my hematology appointment. The lawn will just have to hold its breath until the weekend — and honestly, with my schedule, so will I. But I’ll get there. One weed at a time, one appointment at a time.

Until next time — stay ahead of the weeds (or at least pretend to).

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The Ancient Greek Pun I Finally Solved Twenty Years Later

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

Today is March 4th, which means it is also Exelauno Day.

What is Exelauno Day?

It is a wonderfully nerdy holiday for classicists based on a pun involving the Greek verb exelaunein, which means “to march forth” or “to drive out.” Since “March 4th” sounds like “march forth,” someone, somewhere, decided this was too good of a joke to waste.

The phrase comes from Anabasis by Xenophon, which makes the joke even more gloriously academic.

When I was an undergraduate student studying ancient Greek, one of my professors casually asked the class if anyone knew when Exelauno Day was.

None of us knew.

We guessed a few possible dates, but he never told us the answer. Somehow, that random question stayed in my mind for more than twenty years.

Finally, after all this time, I decided to look it up.

And there it was: the answer was simply March 4th.

Honestly, it is the kind of joke that only classicists could create—part language lesson, part historical reference, and part terrible dad joke preserved for eternity.

To celebrate, I tracked down my old professor’s email address and sent him a short message telling him this story and how much his classes still stayed with me after all these years.

I am looking forward to hearing back from him.

Sometimes the smallest things teachers say end up staying with us far longer than they ever realize.

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Small 5S Organization Project: Installing a Vacuum Hose Rack

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

My wife has been working on her 5S organization project for almost two months now. She started with the kitchen, then recently she turned her attention to the pantry.

A few weeks ago, while organizing that space, she realized we needed a proper rack for our central vacuum hose. Up until now, I had been leaving the hose on the pantry floor simply because there was nowhere else to put it.

Technically, it was “stored.”
Practically, it was an obstacle.

Since I often carry heavy items through the pantry, having a large vacuum hose stretched across the floor was less than ideal. It looked messy, took up space, and quietly waited for someone to trip over it.

So my wife decided it was finally time to solve the problem.

She ordered a vacuum hose rack from Amazon a few weeks ago, but when it arrived, it came with one important thing missing: screws.

Apparently, the manufacturer assumed we either owned an endless collection of mystery screws or enjoyed turning simple projects into scavenger hunts.

Since we were not entirely sure which screws would work, we decided to order a different rack that actually included hardware. The first rack will still be useful in the garage for organizing extension cords.

While she was in organization mode, my wife also broke down a large stack of Amazon boxes that had been slowly breeding in the garage. Somehow, cardboard boxes have a strange ability to reproduce when left alone too long.

By the end of the day, the pantry looked much tidier and more spacious. Removing the hose and the boxes from the floor made a bigger difference than I expected.

These are the kinds of tasks that only take a few minutes. Yet somehow remain on the to-do list for months if you are not careful.

At least now, two more small but annoying tasks are complete. The pantry floor no longer looks like a storage puzzle.

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