I wanted to run fast at today's Ridgewood 5K to confirm for me that I still can. Yes, I ran very fast at a similar race just a few weeks ago, but none of my other recent races have been anywhere near as good. And since there were some problems at that 5K I've begun wondering if they even measured the course correctly. Perhaps it was too short?? So I want a good performance just so I can be sure.
But today wasn't a good choice for a confidence builder. The day was warm and humid...much more so than I've been running in this year...and the start was late and that just let the day get even warmer and more humid. In fact, my singlet was soaked from just the warm up and sweat dripped down my forehead and throughout my body. So, as I stood at the starting line, waiting to begin I wondered if I was even capable of hitting my goal of under a 7 minute pace.
A 7 minute pace would get me to the finish of a 5K in 21:42. Just a week earlier, in Central Park (a tougher course than Ridgewood) I did 7:17 pace for double the distance. Could I take so much time off now, especially with this forboding (from a runner's perspective) weather?
Well, after 1 mile I was sure that I could. I did it in 6:36! All I had to do was just stay relatively close to this pace and it would be great...but I couldn't! The heat, the humidity, my elevated heart beat all combined to slow me down. Mile 2 was 7:03, a way too steep slow down from my speedy start. But then people began shouting that mile 3 was down hill. I kept looking ahead in anticipation, but all I kept seeing were rolling hills. Downs followed by ups. I cruised on the down parts but the up sections were too much. Where were the down parts only???
Midway through mile 3 my training partner and buddy Wanda came flying by. She is such a strong runner late in races...and it just pisses me off that I should be holding on for dear life while she is cruising. She lengthened her lead and I knew I had no chance of catching her...till we hit a down hill and she didn't seem to speed up but I did. Soon I was drawing even with her, breathing hard and feeling dazed and in pain. Was the race almost over? I couldn't tell. If it was I could push to the finish but now, coming up, I saw another hill. Too much! Wanda pulled away again.
Well, there was no mile 3 marker, but soon I saw the finish line and the clock ticking. It was nearing 21:30 and I was nearing it. With a final push that sent my heart rate to a number it hadn't hit (165) in a long time I crossed the finish at 21:33 a very respectable and gratifying 6:57 pace on a tough day.
A bit later I looked at the official results. I saw the runner who took first in my age group...but there was no one else in our group between him and me. That seemed odd...I was sure there was. What did it mean that there wasn't? My oxygen addled brain couldn't quite compute it. So, when I received the award for second in my age group I still felt surprised. But in a good way, of course.
Now if I could just get those second and third mile times a little faster...
Monday, May 28, 2007
FACING SIMON
Simon is the best pitcher I've ever hit against. Other guys on my team must feel the same because we never beat him. In fact, he and his team beat us in both the 2005 and 2006 championship series, sweeping a total of 4 games from us. We scored very few runs.
When I face Simon, my main goal is to not embarass myself. Not striking out is not necessarily enough. In addition to that I also want to make fairly good contact with the ball, certainly not hitting a pathetic little roller or pop up. I don't even have to get a hit. Not that I've been particularly successful even in this very limited aim. To avoid striking out I've sometimes cut down on my swing. And, by doing that, I've hit more than my share of pathetic little grounders.
So, in the game Wednesday, I was batting last. For a guy who's used to leading off and getting the offense going, this was humbling enough. By the time I batted with 2 outs in the third no one had done much with him. Simon threw me a high change up and I was not particularly fooled. I put a good swing on it but got under it and lofted a fly to left. I thought it would drop in but it held up and the left fielder covered ground well and caught it. A fly to left! Not much, of course, but I was one of only 2 or 3 to get the ball out of the infield. So not bad.
Definitely not a humiliation!
My second at bat was more fun. I lined a pitch down the right field line, landing just beyond the reach of the outfielder...and just foul! Too bad. There was a runner on and, had the right fielder kicked the ball far enough, our baserunner might have scored. Since the game ended in a 0 - 0 tie I would have been the hero. But, alas! The count was 0-2 and Simon tried to throw a low riser at my knees. It stayed too low and I took it for a ball. Then he tried the opposite, a high riser that he hoped I'd chase, but I didn't. Ball 2. This felt like a good, hard working at bat. His next pitch was a fast ball and again I hit it solidly, on a line, but right at the shortstop. Nothing! But 3 good contacts.
So another game passes without embarrassment. The next pitcher we face is not nearly as good so I'll raise my hopes. Now I need a couple of hits to make up for my 0 for 2 against Simon!
When I face Simon, my main goal is to not embarass myself. Not striking out is not necessarily enough. In addition to that I also want to make fairly good contact with the ball, certainly not hitting a pathetic little roller or pop up. I don't even have to get a hit. Not that I've been particularly successful even in this very limited aim. To avoid striking out I've sometimes cut down on my swing. And, by doing that, I've hit more than my share of pathetic little grounders.
So, in the game Wednesday, I was batting last. For a guy who's used to leading off and getting the offense going, this was humbling enough. By the time I batted with 2 outs in the third no one had done much with him. Simon threw me a high change up and I was not particularly fooled. I put a good swing on it but got under it and lofted a fly to left. I thought it would drop in but it held up and the left fielder covered ground well and caught it. A fly to left! Not much, of course, but I was one of only 2 or 3 to get the ball out of the infield. So not bad.
Definitely not a humiliation!
My second at bat was more fun. I lined a pitch down the right field line, landing just beyond the reach of the outfielder...and just foul! Too bad. There was a runner on and, had the right fielder kicked the ball far enough, our baserunner might have scored. Since the game ended in a 0 - 0 tie I would have been the hero. But, alas! The count was 0-2 and Simon tried to throw a low riser at my knees. It stayed too low and I took it for a ball. Then he tried the opposite, a high riser that he hoped I'd chase, but I didn't. Ball 2. This felt like a good, hard working at bat. His next pitch was a fast ball and again I hit it solidly, on a line, but right at the shortstop. Nothing! But 3 good contacts.
So another game passes without embarrassment. The next pitcher we face is not nearly as good so I'll raise my hopes. Now I need a couple of hits to make up for my 0 for 2 against Simon!
Monday, May 14, 2007
DOUBLE DELIGHT
Two more strong games! Solid hitting, a couple of walks, 4 runs scored and a RBI. Three games now and I'm still good! Well, now, at least, I can relax till next week.
:-))
:-))
SOFTBALL STRUGGLES
I worry about my softball abilities. I'm not as good as I was in the past. That's particularly so in the outfield. Once I was SUCH a good outfielder. Now I'm not. I used to get on base all the time. Now it's more of a struggle. As a result my position on both my teams is less secure and I wonder just how much I can still contribute.
That's not very pleasent.
Defensively this season I've been okay except for one awful play. Offensively I judge myself by 2 basic standards. I want to be on base at least twice each game and score a run. After 8 games I've been on 14 times and crossed home with 8 runs. Not bad. But I've had some poor at bats in the last few games and that's got me worried.
Yesterday's game is a great illustration of what I'm going through. I never touched the ball in the field. My first 2 at bats were pretty awful. Twice I swung at difficult pitches and hit them weakly. I was over anxious. I began wondering if I should be batting at the top of the lineup. I wondered if I belonged in the lineup at all.
Despite my non contribution the score was tied, 0-0, late in the game. I came to bat in the sixth with a runner on first and no one out. I moved up in the box and told myself to look for something a little higher than the pitches I'd made outs on. I got 1 and singled to center. Finally, a contribution! The next 3 batters made outs, however, and the game remained scoreless. Still, I was SO relieved!
Neither team could break through and it looked like I'd bat again. If I made another out I'd be a weak 1-4 and that sucks. But my 1-3 wasn't very good either. I told myself to just do my best if I got another chance. The game went to extra innings and I lead off the ninth. Getting on was critical. The first pitch was to my liking and I lined it to the right of the shortstop, a clean hit. I was so pleased...actually, so relieved! I hadn't fucked up our game. Now I was a very respectable 2-4 and had a chance to score the winning (and the game's only) run. That would make everything...alright.
I've always loved to run the bases and I was an awfully good baserunner. And, to me, there is nothing more exciting than scoring an important run. I advanced to second, sliding hard, when the second basement mishandled a ground ball.
I love to score from second. I love to fly around third and then sweep by the catcher. When the next batter lined the ball to center I thought that's exactly what would happen...except the centerfielder was playing shallow, the ball held up, I stopped quickly and saw the fielder make a great running catch. I rushed back to second and dove into the bag ahead of the throw. I guarantee that half (maybe more)of the players on my team would have been double up. I'd made a smart play.
The next batter dribbled one in front of the plate, I ran to third and everyone was safe. Bases loaded now with 1 out. All we needed was a good flyball. And that's what our batter delivered. I took off and slid into home thought a slide wasn't necessary. We won and I did indeed score the winning (and only) (and difficult) run!
I didn't play a great game but I had played a good one and contributed to our win!
So now I feel that I don't suck at the moment. But that might change after today's doubleheader.
That's not very pleasent.
Defensively this season I've been okay except for one awful play. Offensively I judge myself by 2 basic standards. I want to be on base at least twice each game and score a run. After 8 games I've been on 14 times and crossed home with 8 runs. Not bad. But I've had some poor at bats in the last few games and that's got me worried.
Yesterday's game is a great illustration of what I'm going through. I never touched the ball in the field. My first 2 at bats were pretty awful. Twice I swung at difficult pitches and hit them weakly. I was over anxious. I began wondering if I should be batting at the top of the lineup. I wondered if I belonged in the lineup at all.
Despite my non contribution the score was tied, 0-0, late in the game. I came to bat in the sixth with a runner on first and no one out. I moved up in the box and told myself to look for something a little higher than the pitches I'd made outs on. I got 1 and singled to center. Finally, a contribution! The next 3 batters made outs, however, and the game remained scoreless. Still, I was SO relieved!
Neither team could break through and it looked like I'd bat again. If I made another out I'd be a weak 1-4 and that sucks. But my 1-3 wasn't very good either. I told myself to just do my best if I got another chance. The game went to extra innings and I lead off the ninth. Getting on was critical. The first pitch was to my liking and I lined it to the right of the shortstop, a clean hit. I was so pleased...actually, so relieved! I hadn't fucked up our game. Now I was a very respectable 2-4 and had a chance to score the winning (and the game's only) run. That would make everything...alright.
I've always loved to run the bases and I was an awfully good baserunner. And, to me, there is nothing more exciting than scoring an important run. I advanced to second, sliding hard, when the second basement mishandled a ground ball.
I love to score from second. I love to fly around third and then sweep by the catcher. When the next batter lined the ball to center I thought that's exactly what would happen...except the centerfielder was playing shallow, the ball held up, I stopped quickly and saw the fielder make a great running catch. I rushed back to second and dove into the bag ahead of the throw. I guarantee that half (maybe more)of the players on my team would have been double up. I'd made a smart play.
The next batter dribbled one in front of the plate, I ran to third and everyone was safe. Bases loaded now with 1 out. All we needed was a good flyball. And that's what our batter delivered. I took off and slid into home thought a slide wasn't necessary. We won and I did indeed score the winning (and only) (and difficult) run!
I didn't play a great game but I had played a good one and contributed to our win!
So now I feel that I don't suck at the moment. But that might change after today's doubleheader.
Saturday, May 5, 2007
I'M BACK!!!!
I may be fast again!!!
The last few months have been soooo frustrating! No matter what I did I couldn't seem to be fast. I've trained hard, regularly and, for a while now, without injury or illness. Yet none of this seemed reflected in my race times. The crusher came 2 weeks ago in a small 4 miler. Though I won my age group I ran slightly slower than the Colon Cancer contest of almost 2 months ago. Other runs have given me similar lukewarm results.
Today was the All Star 5K at Bronx Community College. As I ran a 7:13 pace at the recent 4 mile race, I thought a 7 minute pace exactly would be challenging but, perhaps, possible. Certainly it would be on a flat course but the Bronx, of course, is hilly.
I think I have a chance of placing in any non Road Runner event, so I lined up in the front row and went out fairly hard at the start. A small group spurted forward but I stayed with the second pack, enjoying our more reasonable pace as we rolled through about half a mile of fairly steady downhills. Then, up ahead, the street inclined nastily. I mentally willed the lead runners to turn right and onto a level side street, but it didn't work. We had to run that up but it soon evened out and we reached the Grand Concourse.
No split. There wasn't a 1 mile split, at least none that I had seen. Perhaps we hadn't reached it yet, but we were running too long and I felt too fatigued for that to be true. Certainly I didn't want it to be true. I looked at my watch...we'd been running for over 9 minutes. This was confusing for me. Often I run the first mile too fast and, when I see my over speedy split I slow down...frequently too late to avoid paying for it late in the race. But now I hadn't gotten my warning. Was I going too fast? I'd tried to be moderate but I never know. Still, I felt reasonably strong.
We came to a turnaround on the Concourse. Was this the half way point? I kept a steady pace and soon we turned off the Grand Concourse. Was this the 2 mile point? Still no markers. Now I did feel fatigued and my mouth was very dry. If the first mile was mostly downhill wouldn't the finale be mostly up? Logically, yes, but I hoped that logic was off. It wasn't. My watch read just under 14 minutes. If there was just about a mile left then I was right near pace. If not....It didn't seem fair to not know. Still I kept pushing on.
But that effort seemed to slow to a crawl on the hills leading back to campus. About half way up one, a runner went passed. I didn't really care...till I noticed that he had grey hair...perhaps he was in my age group! The course leveled and I saw the gateway to the campus. I thought the race would end just inside. Summoning my last bit of energy I kicked passed him...while hoping that the race really was near the finish. It was! As I pushed to the end, easily out running my competitor, I noticed something surprising...The clock hadn't reached 21 minutes yet! I was way ahead of my hoped for pace. AND, I'd only beaten 21 minutes once before. I strained to do it again...
But I didn't make it!! I came across in 21:01, a time that I was EXREMELY happy with, my second fastest 5K ever.
Walking slowly, I learned that the runner I'd just managed to beat was, indeed, in my age group. In fact a runner right behind him was also in our group. If another age group competitor finished in the small group of runners ahead of me, I could have been knocked right out of an award. And, seeing, the gorgeous trophies on the table nearby, I was very glad that hadn't happened...
...Until I mentioned that to the race director who said that none of the trophies were for the 5K!! The big event of the day was their 10K...a distance they'd been racing for years. This was the first year they'd added the 5K and they had no idea how many people would compete. So they only planned awards for the top 3 male and top 3 female finishers.
What a rip off!! No splits, no trophies, maybe they won't even post our times. RIP OFF!!!
But I don't really care. I know my time and I know that I should have won an award. And I know one other thing as well...
...I'm back!!!!!
The last few months have been soooo frustrating! No matter what I did I couldn't seem to be fast. I've trained hard, regularly and, for a while now, without injury or illness. Yet none of this seemed reflected in my race times. The crusher came 2 weeks ago in a small 4 miler. Though I won my age group I ran slightly slower than the Colon Cancer contest of almost 2 months ago. Other runs have given me similar lukewarm results.
Today was the All Star 5K at Bronx Community College. As I ran a 7:13 pace at the recent 4 mile race, I thought a 7 minute pace exactly would be challenging but, perhaps, possible. Certainly it would be on a flat course but the Bronx, of course, is hilly.
I think I have a chance of placing in any non Road Runner event, so I lined up in the front row and went out fairly hard at the start. A small group spurted forward but I stayed with the second pack, enjoying our more reasonable pace as we rolled through about half a mile of fairly steady downhills. Then, up ahead, the street inclined nastily. I mentally willed the lead runners to turn right and onto a level side street, but it didn't work. We had to run that up but it soon evened out and we reached the Grand Concourse.
No split. There wasn't a 1 mile split, at least none that I had seen. Perhaps we hadn't reached it yet, but we were running too long and I felt too fatigued for that to be true. Certainly I didn't want it to be true. I looked at my watch...we'd been running for over 9 minutes. This was confusing for me. Often I run the first mile too fast and, when I see my over speedy split I slow down...frequently too late to avoid paying for it late in the race. But now I hadn't gotten my warning. Was I going too fast? I'd tried to be moderate but I never know. Still, I felt reasonably strong.
We came to a turnaround on the Concourse. Was this the half way point? I kept a steady pace and soon we turned off the Grand Concourse. Was this the 2 mile point? Still no markers. Now I did feel fatigued and my mouth was very dry. If the first mile was mostly downhill wouldn't the finale be mostly up? Logically, yes, but I hoped that logic was off. It wasn't. My watch read just under 14 minutes. If there was just about a mile left then I was right near pace. If not....It didn't seem fair to not know. Still I kept pushing on.
But that effort seemed to slow to a crawl on the hills leading back to campus. About half way up one, a runner went passed. I didn't really care...till I noticed that he had grey hair...perhaps he was in my age group! The course leveled and I saw the gateway to the campus. I thought the race would end just inside. Summoning my last bit of energy I kicked passed him...while hoping that the race really was near the finish. It was! As I pushed to the end, easily out running my competitor, I noticed something surprising...The clock hadn't reached 21 minutes yet! I was way ahead of my hoped for pace. AND, I'd only beaten 21 minutes once before. I strained to do it again...
But I didn't make it!! I came across in 21:01, a time that I was EXREMELY happy with, my second fastest 5K ever.
Walking slowly, I learned that the runner I'd just managed to beat was, indeed, in my age group. In fact a runner right behind him was also in our group. If another age group competitor finished in the small group of runners ahead of me, I could have been knocked right out of an award. And, seeing, the gorgeous trophies on the table nearby, I was very glad that hadn't happened...
...Until I mentioned that to the race director who said that none of the trophies were for the 5K!! The big event of the day was their 10K...a distance they'd been racing for years. This was the first year they'd added the 5K and they had no idea how many people would compete. So they only planned awards for the top 3 male and top 3 female finishers.
What a rip off!! No splits, no trophies, maybe they won't even post our times. RIP OFF!!!
But I don't really care. I know my time and I know that I should have won an award. And I know one other thing as well...
...I'm back!!!!!
Saturday, March 31, 2007
RELAXING
Relaxing makes me nervous. When I try...via meditation, yoga, breathing exercises, relaxation techniques...my head fills with all sorts of very active thoughts. I've run many races, batted in countless clutch situations, taken on multi problems, all in my mind as I've tried to relax. Soon I'm feeling a sense of urgency that is anything but soothing. I've got to stop this time wasting technique and get to doing...whatever! Till finally, just the thought of taking 10 minutes to relax seems overwhelming.
But the thought of rising blood pressure also makes me nervous. Both my parents have/had high blood pressure, so, genetically, my BP future doesn't look bright unless I somehow get hold of it. I don't want medication. Diet modification is part of it. So is, I've heard, relaxation. But I can't seem to do that, certainly not consistantly, alone.
I need a relaxation Personal Trainer.
I heard of a product called Resperate. It is a device that uses simple guided imagery and musical tones to slow breathing into what it calls the "theraputic zone" of less than 10 breathes per minute. This zone, it claims, relaxes the arterial system, easing blood flow and lowering blood pressure. Do this several times a week for 6 weeks or so and the accumulating theraputic effect becomes permanent. What's to lose by trying it? Three hundred dollars. No other risks that I can see.
It came yesterday and it was easy to hook up. And easy to get going. And simple to bring my breathing rate into the Theraputic Zone. And easy to maintain it well under 10. But still weird and unsettling to concentrate on Just Breathing.
So I looked at the dials. I sampled all the different musical prompts. I discovered all the various measurement scales. I followed time of exercise, time in Zone, rate of breathing. I wondered if this was counterproductive. I wondered if I was holding my breath too much at the end of the inhalation. Perhaps this was lowering my rate non theraputically? The total time was dragging. Could I possibly make it for the full term of 15 minutes? Would the usefulness be totally defeated if I didn't? Would it really matter if I did? Was I getting anxious? My breathing rate remained low and in the zone. Perhaps it didn't matter if I was anxious. But if it was all so problematic this time, how could I possibly hope to do it consistantly? What a waste of money this could be, and....
....The phone rang. I was glad. I answered it. I put the device away.
Today I tried it again. It was much easier. I got in the Zone, stayed, lower and lower in the Zone till my breathing rate was barely above 4 per minute. I didn't change the music or examine the other measurements. I closed my eyes, relaxed, breathed...and occassionally looked at the clock sitting across from me! It was soothing to watch the minute hand move out of the twenties and into the thirties. I was progressing through the alloted time and getting closer to the finish.
The phone didn't ring and I did my 15 minutes. Though I have a real race tomorrow morning I didn't preview it in my mind or start thinking about my time goals. I didn't run any fantasy races or take any imaginary at bats. I didn't do any errands or solve any problems.
It was nice, actually. Relaxing.
A start.
But the thought of rising blood pressure also makes me nervous. Both my parents have/had high blood pressure, so, genetically, my BP future doesn't look bright unless I somehow get hold of it. I don't want medication. Diet modification is part of it. So is, I've heard, relaxation. But I can't seem to do that, certainly not consistantly, alone.
I need a relaxation Personal Trainer.
I heard of a product called Resperate. It is a device that uses simple guided imagery and musical tones to slow breathing into what it calls the "theraputic zone" of less than 10 breathes per minute. This zone, it claims, relaxes the arterial system, easing blood flow and lowering blood pressure. Do this several times a week for 6 weeks or so and the accumulating theraputic effect becomes permanent. What's to lose by trying it? Three hundred dollars. No other risks that I can see.
It came yesterday and it was easy to hook up. And easy to get going. And simple to bring my breathing rate into the Theraputic Zone. And easy to maintain it well under 10. But still weird and unsettling to concentrate on Just Breathing.
So I looked at the dials. I sampled all the different musical prompts. I discovered all the various measurement scales. I followed time of exercise, time in Zone, rate of breathing. I wondered if this was counterproductive. I wondered if I was holding my breath too much at the end of the inhalation. Perhaps this was lowering my rate non theraputically? The total time was dragging. Could I possibly make it for the full term of 15 minutes? Would the usefulness be totally defeated if I didn't? Would it really matter if I did? Was I getting anxious? My breathing rate remained low and in the zone. Perhaps it didn't matter if I was anxious. But if it was all so problematic this time, how could I possibly hope to do it consistantly? What a waste of money this could be, and....
....The phone rang. I was glad. I answered it. I put the device away.
Today I tried it again. It was much easier. I got in the Zone, stayed, lower and lower in the Zone till my breathing rate was barely above 4 per minute. I didn't change the music or examine the other measurements. I closed my eyes, relaxed, breathed...and occassionally looked at the clock sitting across from me! It was soothing to watch the minute hand move out of the twenties and into the thirties. I was progressing through the alloted time and getting closer to the finish.
The phone didn't ring and I did my 15 minutes. Though I have a real race tomorrow morning I didn't preview it in my mind or start thinking about my time goals. I didn't run any fantasy races or take any imaginary at bats. I didn't do any errands or solve any problems.
It was nice, actually. Relaxing.
A start.
Monday, March 26, 2007
WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME?
Somethings wrong. Several things, actually. I don't like it. And I don't know why it's happening. Or what to do about it.
I had my physical last week. I used to look forward to them because I'd hear all the numbers that showed what great (or at least good) condition I'm in. Sometimes that's still true; sometimes not. Sometimes the numbers scare me. Elevated blood pressure. Elevated PSA. Elevated terror.
So I went apprehensively for the exam. I had no symptoms of any kind. Nothing bothered me and nothing hurt me and everything was functioning. On the other hand, my weight was up, so was my body fat and my running speed was down. I attributed all of that to my 3 weeks without any kind of training when I was ill in December and January. What would the doctor see and the tests show?
Most everything was fine. Some things were very good...resting heart rate of 45, lung test showing mine functioned like a 15 year old's! But the blood pressure was problematic...140/80. I was surprised that Marty (my doctor) said it was ok and not to worry. Body fat was over 18%. Not terrible, but certainly not great.
Then I got the blood results a few days later. Again, nothing bad. But my cholesterol is over 200...more than a 60 point jump. How could that happen!!!! True, my good cholesterol was up to 71, the best it's ever been, but how could the bad be so much higher? What a mystery! Marty wants to retest in 3 months.
And, on top of all this, the blood in stool test showed a positive (1 of the 3 times I did it, actually). That doesn't necessarily mean anything terrible, the results can be influenced by various factors. We were planning a sigmoidoscopy this year anyway (for colon cancer), so I just moved it up to next week. But anxiety about that till at least then.
Numbers, numbers. What do they even mean? They mean that I'm going in the wrong direction, I'd say. I'm unhappy about this. It feels out of my control. Arbitrary. Very unsettling. It makes me SO uneasy. Is it age? Should I just accept this deterioration as inevitable? Am I doing anything to foster it? Is there anything I can do to make this better?
I'm lazy. That's what it is. Not about everything, of course. I work out hard and, of late, my hard workouts are paying off as my speed increases, my weight comes down, my strength goes up and I just saw a body fat reading of 17% on my scale. But I am lazy in other ways.
I don't cook. I order out. Or go to restaurants. Or delis. I get good stuff there, but how good can it be? How much salt in the soups, fatty mayonaise in the tuna, sugar in the energy bars? Could these things hurt my blood pressure and cholesterol? Of course. Why do I allow it? Because I'd rather be doing other stuff than cooking and, later, cleaning.
I know I should try to relax. Seriously, I should. Yoga, meditation, deep breathing exercises, stretching. Something. But I don't. Why? Because it makes me jumpy to not be active. I have to force myself to close my eyes, suspend my thoughts, do nothing and...relax.
Sometimes I feel helpless and life is partly out of control. I must take hold of it and do what I can. Perhaps it is age and genetics. Perhaps it is only partly. Perhaps any attempts will be futile. I don't believe that, but maybe.
I've started to do some things. New cooking stuff, new steamer, new blender, new containers of oatmeal and wheat germ. Starting isn't the most difficult part, of course. The hardest is integrating it into my life and maintaining it, cause I've done it before. I've begun to cook. And clean up afterwards.
Will I be able to continue doing what I think is best for me? If I can't, then that is what's REALLY wrong with me.
I had my physical last week. I used to look forward to them because I'd hear all the numbers that showed what great (or at least good) condition I'm in. Sometimes that's still true; sometimes not. Sometimes the numbers scare me. Elevated blood pressure. Elevated PSA. Elevated terror.
So I went apprehensively for the exam. I had no symptoms of any kind. Nothing bothered me and nothing hurt me and everything was functioning. On the other hand, my weight was up, so was my body fat and my running speed was down. I attributed all of that to my 3 weeks without any kind of training when I was ill in December and January. What would the doctor see and the tests show?
Most everything was fine. Some things were very good...resting heart rate of 45, lung test showing mine functioned like a 15 year old's! But the blood pressure was problematic...140/80. I was surprised that Marty (my doctor) said it was ok and not to worry. Body fat was over 18%. Not terrible, but certainly not great.
Then I got the blood results a few days later. Again, nothing bad. But my cholesterol is over 200...more than a 60 point jump. How could that happen!!!! True, my good cholesterol was up to 71, the best it's ever been, but how could the bad be so much higher? What a mystery! Marty wants to retest in 3 months.
And, on top of all this, the blood in stool test showed a positive (1 of the 3 times I did it, actually). That doesn't necessarily mean anything terrible, the results can be influenced by various factors. We were planning a sigmoidoscopy this year anyway (for colon cancer), so I just moved it up to next week. But anxiety about that till at least then.
Numbers, numbers. What do they even mean? They mean that I'm going in the wrong direction, I'd say. I'm unhappy about this. It feels out of my control. Arbitrary. Very unsettling. It makes me SO uneasy. Is it age? Should I just accept this deterioration as inevitable? Am I doing anything to foster it? Is there anything I can do to make this better?
I'm lazy. That's what it is. Not about everything, of course. I work out hard and, of late, my hard workouts are paying off as my speed increases, my weight comes down, my strength goes up and I just saw a body fat reading of 17% on my scale. But I am lazy in other ways.
I don't cook. I order out. Or go to restaurants. Or delis. I get good stuff there, but how good can it be? How much salt in the soups, fatty mayonaise in the tuna, sugar in the energy bars? Could these things hurt my blood pressure and cholesterol? Of course. Why do I allow it? Because I'd rather be doing other stuff than cooking and, later, cleaning.
I know I should try to relax. Seriously, I should. Yoga, meditation, deep breathing exercises, stretching. Something. But I don't. Why? Because it makes me jumpy to not be active. I have to force myself to close my eyes, suspend my thoughts, do nothing and...relax.
Sometimes I feel helpless and life is partly out of control. I must take hold of it and do what I can. Perhaps it is age and genetics. Perhaps it is only partly. Perhaps any attempts will be futile. I don't believe that, but maybe.
I've started to do some things. New cooking stuff, new steamer, new blender, new containers of oatmeal and wheat germ. Starting isn't the most difficult part, of course. The hardest is integrating it into my life and maintaining it, cause I've done it before. I've begun to cook. And clean up afterwards.
Will I be able to continue doing what I think is best for me? If I can't, then that is what's REALLY wrong with me.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)