(from yesterday)
I had to take some drastic steps to rehydrate. I immediately sat down and slowly got about
12 ounces of Gatorade in me. I ate half
a banana and a kosher pickle with it. I
needed to get the sodium and potassium levels up. I then made up my usually recovery drink of
Creatine/Protein and had that too. All
of this over an hour’s time…you can’t just pour this stuff into your body. I sat in front of a fan and waited for
everything to absorb and my body’s heat to go down. It did…but it took time. When I walked around, I was a little light
headed and seriously out of steam. I
headed up to take a cold shower.
I stripped off my sweat soaked clothes and turned to look in
the mirror. I could see my cheek bones
and my face was drawn tight. My skin was
white…drained of blood. My body was
still sweating. It hurt me just to stand
up. That’s when it hit me.
I looked at the fifty year old man staring back at me and
said to him, “What the hell are you doing?”
(continued)
It was a real question.
I was really at a physical breakpoint.
I don’t think there are many times when I have exercised so hard that I
literally depleted my system. When I was
in the Army, back in 1985, I went to the NCO Academy in Bad Toelz, Germany. It was a two week school for future Non-Commissioned
Officers. The final day, we did a road
march in full gear plus packed ruck sacks.
It started at 6AM and went to 8PM.
We did over 30 miles that day.
That may have been the toughest outing of my life. This was kind of close to that but not entirely
the same. That day was long and
physically tiring, but I never thought I had passed a physical endurance
point. I was just physically tired. Saturday morning was different from the
perspective that I pushed until I couldn’t give anymore. Why?
The other reason I asked myself that question is, simply,
I’m fifty. What am I trying to
prove? No one else my age is doing crap
like this. Other than me, who really
cares?
So I took my shower and went back downstairs to relax. As I started to come around, I started to
really think about the questions.
I thought about the workout on that DVD. I bet the oldest person was 35. I saw a lot of them not doing the
exercises. They were dropping out along
the way. There were moments when I
looked up and they were standing still.
But not me. There I was grinding
away.
Who cares? I guess it
was a good question. I thought about
that one for a moment. I’ve spent the
better part of my life trying to achieve things with very little regard for
‘who cares.’ I set a course and give it
my all. Work or play, it doesn’t
matter. I like putting the goals in
front of me and then testing myself to see if I have the discipline and drive
to complete them. It’s a challenge. I’ve always been of the mindset that, if we
are not challenging ourselves, then what are we doing here?
It would be real easy at this point to just not do this
anymore. Seriously, I could get about 6
hours of my life back every week. When
you consider prep and recovery and shower, hell, maybe I could get closer to 12
back.
The problem with those hours are, I like them. I look forward to them. I’ve gotten to the point where exercise is
something I love doing for the sake of doing it. I like talking with people about their
health. I like sharing the experiences
with those who also have had life changing transformations.
That’s really it. The
transformation. I like the new
person. I like the new person a lot
better than I liked the old one. The new
person is actually a bit more reserved.
A bit more tolerant. Not
completely, but changed a little.
Who cares?
Who cares about this damn blog? I know there are many who follow it and read
it…and there are some who read it from time to time when the title strikes an
interest. But, who cares what I think? I have to look back at the hours I’ve spent
doing them and say, “I don’t care what anyone thinks.” I honestly didn’t do them for anyone but
me. I did them hoping that they could
help others but really, you do it because you like (or love) doing it.
Which brings me to the answer to my question, “What the hell
are you doing?” The answer is, I don’t
really know. I know I like it. I know I am getting healthier (in spite of
Saturday’s results) because of it. I
know I feel better than ever.
It feels great, so I am going to continue. I’m not going to be one of those who sits
back and talks about his ailments. I am
going to be moving, I hope, for a long time.
I may have overdone it on Saturday, but I’m still here. I also made it through Sunday’s workout in
much better shape than Saturday, because I was ready.
I am going to just keep doing what makes me
happy. In the long run, if it makes me
happy…well…good. Sounds selfish but it I
don’t make sure I am happy, being the opposite way for the rest of my life
sounds downright dreary. So I choose
happy. Happy and fit.
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