For the previous couple of years, my birthday posts have been about my fitness quest. But this past birthday, my mind went to a more emotional place, and I wanted to write about the thoughts I was having. Now, though, for those who may be interested in knowing how the physical aspect of my middle-aged years is continuing, let me post this update.

This quest — to get super fit — started out as a mid-life crisis over three years ago. But since getting fit, I’ve continued the efforts because I really like it. And I say, “efforts,” plural, because this isn’t just exercising; it’s maintaining a good diet as well. Well, trying to maintain a good diet. The diet half of this whole thing has been the hardest overall. The workouts are hard, yes, very extreme, but they only require about an hour of my best effort 3-6 days a week. The diet, on the other hand, requires maximum attention every hour of every day.

I’m a stress eater. When I’m stressed out I want to eat. Plus, just in general, I love sweets, especially cake, cookies, and ice cream. And that means that when I’m stressed, my first instinct is to eat a dessert. I know this personality fault is the main problem for me to drop the last 3-5 pounds of fat down to my six-pack abs. I want the well-defined six-pack abs that underwear models have, but my diet weakness keeps me just short of that ultimate goal. (Also, male models are usually half my age.)

I started this quest in February of 2010, about three and a half years ago. At that time, I weighed 195 pounds. Not grossly obese, but definitely overweight for 5’11”. I didn’t really feel fat, but I did feel out of shape, soft. I mentioned to Wifegrit more than a few times that I just felt my body falling apart. I could feel myself getting older, weaker, even dying. I didn’t like that at all. Through my youth, teens, twenties, and early thirties I was thin. But once we brought the responsibility of kids into our life, my physical health started going down hill. All my attention was on my boys, to the dismissal of my own well being. I ended up gaining over 5 pounds a year.

So I ordered a video workout regimen I could follow in my home, and I resolved to get my shit together. The above photo was taken on my birthday this year. It looks identical to the one I took last year at the same time, (except that I’ve got a tan this year — I swear it’s sun-natural, even though it looks orange in that photo). I reached this shape, (150 pounds), after 9 months of effort, and I’ve maintained the same level since then. I still workout 3-6 times a week, and I count every calorie I put into my body. It’s truly hard to maintain, but I’m dedicated to this thing. I feel incredible, both in appearance and in healthfulness.

The picture on the left is me and my boys in June 2009, (four years ago). The picture on the right is me and my boys in March 2013, (four months ago).

2009: I had reached my heaviest weight ever, (almost 200 pounds). That picture embarrasses me, but I think I need to show it to really relate why I post about my fitness quest on this blog. That picture shows where I was physically when I decided to get back into shape. I would never have allowed a photo with my shirt off back then.

Now, though, I’m very healthy and fit. I’m strong [enough], with plenty of energy. The difference in how I feel from then to now is as major as how I look. This is important. I love exercise and working out, breathing heavy and sweating, cardio and weight lifting. This training put me in a good position for taking on a mud run this year. It has, in every aspect, made my life better.

But I have to admit, I still love afternoon naps on the couch, lying in bed on Sunday mornings, submersing myself in computer games, and vegging out on the internet, all for hours at a time. I still have stress, my kids still drive me nuts at times, and I’m so incredibly looking forward to the vacation next month for just me and Wifegrit, alone, at a resort on the beach. OK, so getting fit hasn’t magically cured all of life’s problems, but I can honestly say that living with the same ups and downs, enjoying the same joys and amusements, suffering the same frustrations and aggravations, I’m generally, overall better off experiencing everything with a healthy and fit body. Plus I’ll probably live five years longer than I would have if I hadn’t stopped my down hill trajectory.

My mind, though, probably needs some help.

Bullgrit

Over the past week or so I’ve been working on changing our TV, phone, and Internet service. So every day after I come home from work, I have had some kind of wiring, connecting, activating, setting up, or rearranging to do with all our electronic devices. I’ve spent about 6 hours on the phone mostly with customer service or technical support to get things organized. It’s been extremely frustrating and stressful.

Nothing is easy. Nothing is simple. Nothing just works. Every step of every process is complicated.

Thursday night was going to be the last of this work I had to do. I was going to install the new modem and router to the new Internet service. The night before, I went through all the cables and connectors to make sure I had everything I needed to complete the process. My home desk was covered in electronics and paper instructions.

It had been a long, stressful week of all this, but I hoped that finally I’d be done with it all. When I got home from work, I said hello to the family and then went straight up to my office to get into the cables and connectors and instructions. What greeted me on my desk was like a punch line in a television sitcom. My 12 year old son had left a note for me:

Really? I stood there looking down at the cube and note for a full minute or so.

Turns out it was no joke or gag. Little brother had played with the cube and unintentionally messed it up. Wifegrit suggested giving it to good ol’ Dad to fix.

Well, instead of getting upset, (which I was on the ragged edge of doing), I decided to take the situation as a chance to show off to my boys and look like a hero. After finishing the electronic hook ups, I sat down to work out the cube. I searched the web for the solution and followed the step-by-step directions. Once I solved the puzzle, I took it and the note downstairs to where the family was finishing dinner around the kitchen table, and placed the finished product in front of Calfgrit12.

I got a, “Thanks, Dad.” But that’s really about it.

Oh well. I know I’m awesome.

On my way home from work on Friday, I half expected there to be a box of Christmas lights for me to untangle.

Bullgrit

A year or two, (or longer?), ago, our city opened its first toll road. Fortunately, it’s a way we rarely ever go, so we’ve never given it more than a passing thought. On the rare occasion that we do get out that way, we just avoid the road and take a different path. Supposedly it saves travel time for regular commuters, but we’re not in a hurry to go that direction anyway, so who needs to pay a toll to save five minutes once in a blue moon?

But it is somewhat confusing. There are signs up that way, but they’re not real clear. I mean, you might get going down the highway, and then you see the signs announcing the toll road, but it’s not clear if you are already on the toll road or if there is an exit to take to get off before it. We’ve seen signs saying “Toll Road” suddenly pop up while we’re driving down a road we thought was free, then after we struggle to figure out how to get off, suddenly the signs of “Toll” disappear. We’re left wondering, “What the heck?”

This happened a few weeks ago. I was driving and Wifegrit was navigating, (never a good combination for the two of us), and we had that confusion about how to avoid the toll road. The toll signs appeared for a couple of miles and then they disappeared.  I thought we had avoided the toll, but she thought we had gotten on it for a very short distance. But we didn’t actually “get on” anything, and we didn’t “get off” anything. We just drove straight along a highway we had driven before.

But then about a week later, I got a letter in the mail telling me I owed the toll for using the road. The letter included a picture of my truck using the toll road.

Well, lookie there. Sure enough, I had driven on the toll road. Well, hell, how much did I owe?

45 cents. Forty. Five. Cents.

OK, that’s not bad. What, were we on the road for half a mile? I don’t know.

I had to sign the paper, write a check for forty-five cents, and then place a 46 cent stamp on the envelope to mail it back. Yeah, the stamp more than doubled my toll cost. I imagine the whole billing process must have cost the DOT more than the toll cost just to charge me. I mean, they had to pay postage to get the letter to me to begin with, plus the printing, and the administration, etc. State bureaucracy at work.

Bullgrit

Instead of a birthday cake this year, I asked for Twinkies. And I got them!

I got one first thing in the morning, to eat on my drive to work. Then when I got home in the afternoon, this was waiting for me:

They were delicious! I haven’t had a Twinkie in years, but they tasted exactly as I remembered. Both Calfgrits got to taste them for the first time — Calfgrit8 gave them a thumbs-up, and Calfgrit12 said, “Can I have another?”

It’s the simple pleasures in life that make the world a happy place.

Bullgrit