Showing posts with label adventure. Show all posts
Showing posts with label adventure. Show all posts

Friday, January 23, 2015

Change Hurts

Like many people hovering around the halfway point of their life, I have been redoubling and expanding my efforts to be healthy.  It's not because I wasn't already putting forth effort, it's because I want to do a better job of it.

In the last few years my wife and I have been kicking our respective butts to stay in shape.  We've been using a strong combination of running, weight training, and improved nutrition in order to do so.  And, with the exception of the occasional misstep, we've really seen some good improvement.

However, it hasn't been without flaws.

When one starts making progress in their workout routine, you need to start changing things up so that you don't plateau.  As you do this, you start finding the things that work as you tweak your routine.

This is all good, except that as you start to make gains, you can get caught up in the gains and miss the problems that are creeping up on you.

For example...

By the mid point of this last year, I had really been putting on some muscle.  My abs could more or less be counted visibly, my man-boobs had become primarily man-like and less boob-like.  My shoulders, arms, and legs were all taking a more pleasing shape.

However, what I had forgotten to take care of was maintaining proper flexibility.  I had been doing lots of stretching, but as my workouts were getting longer, I would catch myself not doing my stretching and yoga.  What resulted was that, as I put on more muscle, my body started to tighten up.  I didn't even notice until I was already there.  

I realized it one day when I noticed how much harder it was to keep good posture.  I had worked hard to regain my posture after I'd had some surgery a number of years back.  But suddenly it had seemed that standing straight was really hard.  

This was because my abs had become so tight it was causing me to curl forward.  It's a common problem in weight trainers.  Their shoulders start to curve inward and they start to have that muscular hunch in their back.  It's a flexibility issue.  All the front muscles are strong and tight and begin to bend you forward like a macaroni noodle.

This is really not good.

Well, after a string of injuries in the second half of the year, I determined to re-evaluate my workout and go in a better direction.

This year, I've been biasing my workout toward Yoga.  I am still doing strength training, but the Yoga has strength building as part of the moves even as it is increasing flexibility.  I'm also doing a lot of combo moves that work multiple parts of the body all at once.

Crawl push-ups.  Straight arm planks.  Straight arm side planks.  (those last two suck, by the way.)  Jump squats.  (those suck even worse.  I did 125 of them today.  I may never walk again.)  But I'm also doing things like modified warrior's pose with a twist for butt, side, and groin flexibility and hamstring and quad strength.  Sun salutation for hamstring, back, and butt flexibility.  Cobra pose for abdominal flexibility and spinal release plus arm strengthening.

This is just a few of the things I'm doing besides running and such.

And I'm seeing the difference almost immediately.

So, I must be feeling great then, right?

Not exactly.

Here is the problem.  It's not actually a problem, but it feels like it in the short term.  The problem is, my body was so out of whack, that it had done all manner of weird things to compensate.  But as I stretch, especially with cobra pose, the increased space in my spine as my core muscles relax and lengthen back to optimal size begins to do it's work.  And by "do it's work" I mean, my whole spine starts to loosen up.  And when this happens, things start popping and shifting and realigning.

I'll feel something move, then I'll feel three other places move in close succession.  And then, later in the day, I start hurting in weird places.  Not because I've damaged anything, but because I have freed things that have been locked together.  I have created an environment where my body can change it's position and move back to a better form.  And it hurts!  There is a lot of internal resistance happening.  I loosen up one spot, and I realize that two others are now out of position because their position was dependent upon the one thing I just fixed.  So, they now have to shift.  But every time something shifts I find another spot that needs to move.

And so the dominos of change fall.

You find that each problem was masking another problem and the whole process becomes painful.  Good, but painful.

Over time the pain disappears as the problems fix themselves and soon you find that all is, more or less, right in your world.

This is the great truth about change.  It hurts.  We want to hold on to what IS very tightly, even if it is harming us.  This is because we have found a balance, even if it is a precarious one.

Change undoes that shaky balance.  It forces us to let go of the things we held to so fiercely for so long. It forces us to experience something new and that transition process can be very painful.  But eventually, a strange thing happens.  One day we realize that we don't hurt anymore and we start realizing that our life has improved dramatically and we ask ourself a very probing question.

Why didn't we do it all sooner?






Friday, September 27, 2013

Life Lessons: Introduction



I have no idea what I’m doing.  Just thought I’d warn you.
I’m not even sure why I’m doing it.  But for whatever reason, I really want to write a book.  I don’t know if I think it will make me rich, or if it will be fun, or both, or neither.
Maybe I just like hearing the sound of my own voice.  Except, you know, I can’t hear the written word.  So, I guess it’s more like reading the sound of my own voice.  But with out the voice.
Or actual sound.
Right.
Did I mention that I have no idea what I’m doing?
I do feel that writing can be cathartic, even if it is just a random spewing of thoughts.  Sometimes, that which makes us feel better is the illusion in our head.  The illusion that I did a good job, or that my words actually matter in some way.
The illusion that I matter.
It sounds bad when I say it that way, doesn’t it?  Of course people matter.  We just don’t always believe that WE matter.  That I matter.  
But we want to.
We want to know that our lives have purpose and impact and are more than just a series of pointless events strung across time.  So, even when we aren’t sure… or perhaps, especially when we aren’t sure… we will create the illusion in our own heads that what we do, who we are, what we say, matters.  We want to feel better about ourselves.
Huh.  That sounds depressingly pathetic.
That is not actually my intention.  And really, what do I know?  I’m no psychologist.  I don’t know what you are thinking.  I don’t know why you think it, even if I say I do.  Which, I will probably do.
But everyone wants to feel better.  Even if they already feel good.  We want to laugh.  We want to improve.  Progress.  Run faster, farther.  Be skinnier and more muscular.  Have more hair in the right places and less in the wrong places.
That’s a weird one, right?  It’s amazing how much power ones hair has.  Nothing makes you feel older or look older than losing your hair.  
Trust me, I know all about this.  Mine has not so much disappeared as it has migrated.  It’s pretty patchy up top, but fortunately my body compensated by giving me extra all over and inside my nose.
Then there is my little patch of lower back goodness.  Or the random patches on my chest, belly and nipples.
That’s right, all you young attractive and body-hair free guys.  Just wait… your time is coming.  Once, not long ago, I was like you.  Full head of awesome.  Hairless pecks of glory.  Six-pack abs of sexy.
Now, I’m mostly sweaty and smell bad.  
I still sometimes try to act suave and sexy for my wife.  Which really makes her giggle.  But not in that turned on sort of way.  More in that awkward embarrassed sort of way.  In that, “Oh honey, you’re so silly.  You keep trying, and that’s… sweet…”
This works wonders for my ego.  It keeps reality in check.  Or perhaps, it keeps me in check, and snuggly tethered to reality.
It also keeps me jogging.  I can’t begin to describe all the ways THAT sucks.  They tell you that you get some sort of high or rush from jogging.
Lies.
All lies.
You know what I get from jogging?  
Tired.  Sore.  Out of breath.  Sweaty.  That feeling of such utter exhaustion and fatigue and inability to, you know, breath… that I beg God to strike me dead where I stand.
That’s my jogging experience.
However, to be fair, since I started jogging again, I’ve lost 20 pounds as of this sentence.  I can actually see my abs again.  I’d forgotten that I had more than one.  I can see four real clear, and two more are beginning to come out of hiding.  I’m buying shirts a size smaller now.  I no longer get out of breath when starting the car.  And you know what?
I feel pretty good about that.  I look better.  I feel better.  It turns out, all that work is worth it.  The pain and exhaustion.  
The other day my wife noticed that my arms had muscles.  At first I was thinking, “You mean they didn’t before?”  But then I realized she was noticing a difference in me.  A difference she liked.
And that made me feel good about me.
Which made me go out and by a nice, new, tailored suit.  And by “nice”, I mean “cheap”.  Let’s face it, I can’t afford nice.  I mean, it’s not high society.  But it does look the business.  I put on that suit, and I think, “if you weren’t so bald, you’d look totally sweet.”
So, I wear a fedora with it instead.  I like my fedora.  It looks good.  And oddly, it looks good when I wear my Green Lantern t-shirt, jeans, and Converse All-stars.
Although, I’m pretty sure I’m the only one who thinks so.
But does that matter?  
Well, probably yes.  But not as much as it used to.  And maybe that’s the real improvement.  It’s not the hat or the suit or shirt or the new-found abs.  Maybe it’s just knowing I can be a better me, an improved me, or that I can be happy with me.  
Because, all that superficial crap is meaningless.  My wife loved me when I was just sweaty and hairy and bald.  Does she love me more now that I have a nice suit and a trimmer figure?
No.  Sure, she is now ok being seen with me in public, and no longer hides behind the closest tree when some body walks by.
But she cared more about who I was inside, than what I was outside.
Why didn’t I?
Maybe that’s why I’m writing this book.