committed

"Abandon all hope ye who enter here"

At least I should be committed. I foolishly agreed to do the MS charity "CapeCod Getaway" ride, 150 miles over 2 days on my bike.
At the time, june was far far away, indeed I agreed around the time of my last post - midwinter if I recall. So clearly it was a safe way to be friendly and virtuous, after all anyone who lives in the northern climes knows in winter that Summer will never come.

But before continuining my tale of woe, let me offer many apologies to my readership (I recognize that this may just be myself, nonetheless, my sloth,indolence and general lack of "stick to it" commitment, let me down as a reader as well as a writer). Not surprising perhaps and nothing other than what I promised on my very first post, after all this is the attitude problem that created this blog in the first place. Well I am back and I thank you for your patience and understanding.

Now, let me tell you of the sad sad state of affairs in my life.

Despite fair health, a job, happy house, sunshiny weather and all the other things that give me reason to be grateful, I face the specter of this weekend long ride. I have trained, but not hard enough. Knowing this I have pondered writing my will, breaking down emotionally, severing a limb, whatever it takes, but all to no avail - I cannot see  how to get out of this ride. I have raised the pre-requisite amount of charity in the usual ways - hitting up friends (and in the process finding out who my friends really are) and relatives (bad mistake - who knew - last time I had to raise any money I was 9 years old and my parent's  covered the amount required by the school to avoid a blemish on my permanent record (or at least avoid another blemish, there were still a few white spots on the paper at that point). Let me advise you, never, ever ask relatives for money - i was warned by my wife but foolishly I thought "they will want to help, it is for a good cause, me getting fit, oh yes, and raising money for Multiple Sclerosis, a scourge deserving of all our good will and one that I am again fortunate not to be afflicted with. I was wrong, it was viewed as me mooching, the cause being but an excuse to afflict myself upon them.

So, i have spoken little of the training itself but it is late and that must await a future blog (in the not too distant future, I promise). suffice to say, my bike is coping with the workouts far better than I am.
Now I must et my beauty sleep, for, though I may not ride like Lance armstrong, I can at least present a comely visage at the beginning ere sweat and toil wreak their terrible effects in those first yards......

Indian Adventures

I have just returned from a vacation in India, Kerala to be precise. It is a tropical paradise but it is also India so there are many people, lots of color and lots of chaos, especially on the roads where everybody uses every inch of road, and adjoining surfaces, to pass everybody else. As a result, running has some added spice. Fortunately I was able to avoid this human version of the Pamplona run as I injured myself early in the trip. Indeed I am only now advancing from a hobble to a walk - a relief, both for now and because the injury meant I did not have to suffer the angst of deciding whether or not to exercise while on holiday.
within the next couple of days though, I should be well enough to start to need excuses for not exercising.

advise on how to run

...yourself into the ground.

This is exactly what it was like except
 imagine her awake and running

The weekend was bright and sunny, there was no snow and the parks and streets were full of people. In my current mode of regular exercise I knew I must be a part of the "happening"- I decided to take a bike ride but, though sunny, it was also 10F (aka  -12C), not including the wind! Had I found my balaclava I would've braved it and pedaled off in search of polar bears. Instead the thought of riding without hat and face covering was too much. I'm not a native New Englander so there is nothing hardy about me. However, I remained intrepid and so donned my running shoes and made ready for my first outdoor run in about a year. As I was about to leave, the house husky intervened and demanded to join in. She had already had a long walk earlier but it seemed churlish to deny a winter runner a rare chance. So, leashed up we set off. I thought my problem would be stopping her from sniffing but I had forgotten, she is a husky, once she got going there was no stopping. Everytime I slowed down she pulled. 3.5 miles and near death I arrived home (now I realize 3.5 miles is no big distance but remember, the most running I have done in the last few years is 2.5 miles on the treadmill at a max of 5mph. The route we took, averaged just under 6mph, involved trail, hills, soft turf and everything else, - a lot of fun if one is ready for the challenge but increasingly onerous to the unfit jogger.
I think the biggest problem was that, unlike biking, where there are frequent coasting moments, running  is 100% slog BUT, if you want to run and to be pushed (or perhaps I mean pulled), there is no better running partner than a husky. Otherwise, I advise Basset hounds for a more sedate pace more consistent with rare running ventures.

after the long silence

I am back and exercising but, I admit it - i fell off the wagon, so much so that I couldn't even be bothered to make a new year's resolution to exercise or self improve in any manner whatsoever. It wasn't that I had any really good reason, simply that I had a complete loss of motivation, at all levels. It wasn't depression, more of an ennui with perhaps a soupçon of despair at ever developing a lifestyle change that really was. One couldn't help but consider how many years (and they are many) of struggle and travail have gone into exercising without truly embracing daily exercise and healthy eating as a part of who I am.  This despite the fact that there really are times I enjoy exercise and feel on top of the world during and after BUT, it is not a core element that defines me. Maybe I must accept that.
Perhaps it is the struggle itself that is of most value and the physical elements actually pale by comparison with the spiritual aspects of the "journey". I don't know. The point though is that I simply stopped doing anything active for a few weeks, perhaps I needed a real break. Now I am back on the treadmill - literally, not metaphorically. I am not sure that my motivation has really come back but for some reason I have picked myself up and started to work out again. Yesterday a fair weights session, today a decent jog indoors and I'm pretty sure there will be more tomorrow and beyond.

Perhaps, this return reflects that the lifestyle has become more innate within me after all, hmmm, with that hopeful thought I wish all good struggles.

p.s. I know there are a load of cliches - they are on purpose - honest, consider it part of my dissipating ennui if you must, I just thought they were apropos for this post.