A Time of Reckoning

Yesterday was another long ride with my friends Chris and Joon.

And another reminder that I just can’t keep up.  Especially on hills.  Sure, I’ve toyed with the idea of getting a recumbent trike – because my body just can’t handle it anymore. But yesterday, on the last big climb of the day, I had to come to grips with the reality that the reason I can’t keep up on the hills is because I’m carrying too much weight up them.

When you’re so far behind you’re not even in their dust, you get plenty of time to think.  And this is something I’ve known for a long time, but now is a time of reckoning. If I want to keep riding – and actually enjoy it – I need to drop some serious weight.

When I retired from the Air Force in 2008, I was hovering around 193 pounds.  I was always one to push the envelope (and the waist of my pants). If they let me get away with it, I took every pound I could.  So when 184 was the weight limit for someone my height through most of my career, every year I weighed in at 184. Closer to the end of my time, they started putting more emphasis on waist measurement and the ability to run, do pushups, and crunches.  The minimum was 75 points out of 100, and true to form, on the three tests prior to my last one in the Air Force, I scored right around 76 (on the last test, a friend paced me on the run and I ruined my stretch by scoring over 80).

But just because I was passing the tests, by no means was I “in shape” (except of course in the sense of the old joke, “round is a shape”).  I knew I had to do something, but for the longest time it just wasn’t working.  Every spring I’d tell my friend, Corey, “This is it Corey. This is the year I do it.  I hereby proclaim the ‘Summer of Bob!’”

Just saying it motivated me.

But “Summer of Bob!” never really materialized. Until it had to.

Leaving the Air Force at 193 pounds wasn’t too bad.  I was still somewhat conditioned by (mandatory) physical activity.  But here’s the thing – once that “mandatory” goes away, you don’t really notice it.  Because apparently, fat weighs less than muscle.  So while you gain in body fat and lose muscle mass, you can be tricked into thinking you’re alright.  I maintained that 193 for quite some time, but all the while my metabolism and body were changing.

And then it happened.  I reached that equilibrium where there was no more muscle mass to lose, but I was still bringing on the fat because I’d let the habits once kept in check by an annual PT test take over. And then it was 197.  And then it was 199.  And then it was 203.  And finally, when I went to see the doctor with chest pains and couldn’t get up the steps without gasping for breath, it was 209.

Fortunately, the pains were only a remnant of the reflux I’d had for years.  They were brought back under control through medication, but also through adjusting my diet and losing weight.  Within four months of the visit to the doctor, I was down around 180 – something I hadn’t seen in well over a decade – and I was feeling much better.  And while my diet hasn’t been the best (see my recent post on whiskey and eggnog), I’m still able to keep it in check right around 185 because of all of the riding I do.

But even that’s not working any more.  Yes, age is catching up.  But my weight is doing more damage – putting more wear and tear on my body – than the age.  I ride with a guy who’s 61 and yes, he’s a genetic freak and crazy about (single-speed) cycling, but still, the fact that I’m lugging 50 pounds more up these hills has to count for something.

I have no illusions that if I drop 50 pounds, I’ll be able to keep up with Chris. But I’m sure I won’t fall 5 minutes behind on a climb of only a couple of miles either. I mean, I literally drop into my lowest gear, put my head down, and climb one pedal-stroke at a time, just barely over walking speed, all while they’re chugging up the hill with barely a downshift (and in Chris’s case, no shift at all). And the funny thing is, when I catch up at the top and start to descend, I outpace them because I’ve got 50 pounds more pulling me down the hill (when I certainly don’t need it).

So after yesterday’s epiphany, I realized that I’m facing a good news/bad news situation.  The good news is that I’ve come to grips with what needs to be done, and I can set my goals to match.  I’m hoping that by April 1^st (when it starts getting warmer and I’ll be able to come out of the winter lull to ride in earnest) I will have dropped 10 kg (22 pounds) to get down around 165.  I hope also to continue and drop another 5 (11 pounds) after that, but let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves.  The thing is, I’ve done this before – under doctor’s orders most recently, but on my own…20 years ago (yeah, it was a whole lot easier back then), so I know what it takes as far as my eating habits.

But that leads to the bad news.  It still is whiskey and eggnog season — that hasn’t changed.  Fortunately (and sadly), it appears I’m developing an intolerance for eggnog.  So, although I refuse to give it up, I think I’ll be able to control my intake a bit better for the season.  Until then, I can still change the other things I eat.

Will it work?  Sure it will.  I know my entire ability to continue riding as I am (more miles this year than any other) with any kind of enjoyment depends on this.  Cycling has been an absolute Godsend for me. It is the one thing I can do for which I know my wife doesn’t really mind sacrificing the time.  She knows it helps me, and it keeps me alive, which is a big bonus as far as she’s concerned.  And I can usually do it early enough in the day that I’m not cutting too much into my time with her on the weekends.

So here we go. 

It’s time again for a “Summer of Bob!”