Wellington · Living

So last week I had my check-in fitness test, and afterwords, I didn't want to write about it. It wasn't really bad, but it wasn't good, either. So I decided to take more time to digest.

In that time digesting, life moved on, and my trainer introduced my new program for the next eight weeks: the Fear of God Program, at least, that's what I'm calling it. As of last night, I've only done two of the three workouts, and I fear what might be coming tonight. It's not a "horror" fear: it's more like the fear you're supposed to have of God. Here's an example: we're now doing four sets of everything, and with ludicrous weights, and he's pyramiding them. Last night, for my second set of four bench press, he stacks on 205 pounds. Three months ago, that was my theoretical one-rep maximum, as a calculation based on moving lower amounts more reps. As of last night, it's theoretical no longer: I managed to do two reps, which may mean 210 is my one-rep max now. (Yay for benching your own weight.) As I tried to push up the bar for the third time, fear came over me. I was thinking: if we're increasing the weight each set, or even every other, I was going to have to move this weight or more, twelve times, sometime in the next fifteen minutes. The feeling was fear of pain, fear of failure, fear of disappointing your authority figure, plus a little wonder of how far you've gotten and the glory of creation mixed in. Like I said, it's very like the fear of God. (Pete was merciful and dropped the weights for the next two sets. But we did two more sets: brutal.) Did I mention I have to as many pull-ups as I can four times a night? Four sets of clapping push-ups (on top of the bench press)? That's junior-high levels of fear of God, back when you thought that God must be an authority figure like your coach. Luckily there's nowhere to hang a rope to make me climb.

But I seem to be holding up, although with a little bit of insomnia from still coming down off the endorphins come midnight. This progress on the new workouts means I feel better about my results from last Tuesday's (9/8) test. So, I can talk about them now: I'm still 209 pounds, but my body fat was not below 20% like I was shooting for, but actually went up to 21.6%. So by some logic, I must have less muscle mass. I did have a resting/recovered heart rate so low my trainer and his boss both took my pulse to confirm it, so I guess that's good. But only my legs seemed to gain any size, although as per usual, the tape measure is a very imprecise measurement. Still, I would have thought I'd have gotten something to my shoulders or chest or arms or something. When he first measured my upper arm, it looked like I'd lost two inches up there, which is ridiculous. Turned out he'd put in the wrong place, but I'd still lost a quarter inch. That sucked, but after Thursday's workout, I wasn't worried about small upper arms anymore. Even by Friday afternoon, my boss was embarrassing the hell of me by going on about my "gun show" at our one-on-one. I think my arm pump from Thursday lasted more than a few hours: more like a few days. The chest pump I'm walking around with today may be here the rest of the week.

I am going to try, as hard as it is, to stick to doing the full-on three days of cardio a week. And that's serious cardio: if I go running, it has to be for an hour or more. I managed an hour run Saturday, in the rain, and unappropriate and I biked a couple hours and many miles on Sunday. But with stuff on Wednesday nights, doing three days means three days in a row, and I'm not sure I could do Friday, Saturday, and Sunday forever. Or worse, do an hour of cardio *after* one of these Fear of God workouts. So I'll probably be struggling to fit it in each week. Still, gotta do it if I want to see the fat burned off.

So, next test? If there isn't improvement, I'll be shocked. Plus it will prove God hates me, despite my proper fear.

I blame trying to keep up with Twitter and Facebook for my failures to post to my journal. Checking them, checking my forums, checking checking checking, and I end up with no time to be. To write.

But I've got time to workout, because, dammit, I'm paying for it, so I'm going. So let's write about my workouts, 'cause there was a progress check, and more to write than can just be Twittered.

( Last night I had another six week progress test with my trainer. )

All good news, really. The best news, though, is that while I thought this six-week boundary meant the heavy lifting was over, and it was onto fat burning time, it's not. We're just going to really begin the hypertrophy phase in two weeks. I'd thought that this was the muscle-growing phase, and so with the boundary, that'd be the end of muscle gains for a while. But no, Pete's been upping the weights, but keeping a mix of strength and stability exercises all this time. He wanted to do that for eight weeks, then begin the low-rep, high weight, get-massive program. When I get back from my beach vacation, we really begin.

So, maybe not in the best shape for this summer, but hopefully in good for fall. And really, has there been that much reason to have a beach body this "summer" so far?

So, tonight was my six week progress check in at Fitness Together. Wow, it's been six weeks since the return post; I had no idea.

( The results were good. )

Then, since the test only took half our time, Pete was all like, let's fit in that upper body workout anyway. Nice. Nothing like leaving with a huge pump. Also, he got me up to lifting 60 lbs dumbbells tonight on the dumbbell bench press, so I'm feeling back to strong there again. That's not that much weight, but it was for twelve reps, so I'm sure I could do more with the barbell, if he'd let me. But right now he's all about the dumbbells. No wonder my forearms are thicker.

So, in short (too late): Woo-Hoo YEAH! [fist pump]

Also, I guess I should have believed ejvc when she told me I looked bigger. And thanked her and the rest of y'all for your compliments. Thank you.

Oh yeaaaaah.

Yesterday at work sucked rocks. Actually went to my boss for a half hour whiny complaint session about major issues I'm having with one of my staff. Had to turn in a status report explaining why I hadn't made three deadlines.

All of which just makes today that much sweeter. Establishing die-hard boundaries with your work can feel so empowering and liberating.

What also helps was my workout last night. To escape a conflict this weekend, I moved a workout to last night, which meant two nights in a row. So my trainer had to avoid intense lower body, and, since we'd done big muscle groups on my upper body the day before, we did some concentration on shoulders and arms. Now, last Saturday when I went in for my fitness evaluation, I had to look at myself in a mirror I'd seen myself in many times before, but not for six months. It was not pretty, especially as I remembered previous high points. Well, after forty-five minutes of crazy pumping vanity muscles, I looked awesome. And I felt great, too, as the weights we started moving around weren't as far back as I thought I'd have to go. Anyway, it was all a great way to wash away the bad day to prep for my little vacation.

And look at the day! I'm gonna go running right now just to get out and enjoy it. Plus my spa appointment isn't until 3:45pm. This first of many 39ths is looking good.

Oh boy, tonight's first official workout is going to be rough. I am so sore from yesterday, and who knows what my new trainer will put me through. Probably a lot of squats (ow), lunges (ouch), or core work (unnngh).

Yesterday unappropriate and I took a bike ride: he on his shiny new retro cycle, and me on my way-older-than-I-thought mountain bike. We "just" biked from Alewife to Lexington Center and back, and the ride was a pleasant, leisurely pace, due to both our current fitness levels and the high traffic on the Minuteman Trail. There's only so fast you can go dodging strollers, not that there weren't the Biking-Iz-Serious-Business people whooshing by.

I say "just", because it wasn't a quick stroll in the park, despite the relatively low distance as far as bikes are concerned. Plus I was extra dumb. When I thought about how to meet up with Nick, I just thought: hey, he's in Central, and I've biked there as part of my commute a hundred times. So I biked there, like a dumbass. When we got back, despite being a little sore, I thought, hey, it's all downhill from Central to home, so I biked back, like a dumb-and-now-sore-ass. It being my commuter route, and filled with lights to meet, I did it much faster than I should have, especially at the end of such a day. So while Nick did a sensible, if painful first ride, I went right on to push it too far the first time, like I do, and I'm paying for it.

So I'm sore. But it was well worth it: the day was beautiful, the company delightful, and for some reason, the whole Battle of Lexington Green was being re-enacted. You'd think with the 18th being on a Saturday this year, they'd just do it then, but apparently the Regulars are out, killing the Colonial Militia, every weekend in April. How sad it must be to re-enact the rebellion's rough start over and over again until Patriot's Day, when they finally close down Mass Ave, and you get some re-enactment of the happier-ending Battle of the Road. Still, it was nice to stumble upon as it was happening; gotta love New England, dripping with history.

Oh, man, typing is hard, too. All that leaning forward and supporting my weight with my triceps and shoulders. I'm gonna totally embarrass myself tonight.

As I wrote earlier, I decided what to do with my bonus and what to do for my birthday gift to myself. I. And it isn't a new TV (although I did upgrade the TiVo to Series 3 at last.) As I said, I went back to Fitness Together South End.

( My first workout (really just fitness tests) was yesterday, with my new trainer, Pete. )

( There's two annoying things so far )

Still, this is my choice. I've got my first 39th birthday coming up, and I have, if I'm disciplined, a real chance of being as strong as I've wanted all these years, before my second 39th hits. It's a goal, at least. But that means bending my life around the schedule again, after six months of relative freedom. This will take some doing.

Also, speaking of discipline, I ( cut text for WoW posting. )

Lotta snow. Lotta cold. So there's plenty of excuses for to stay in.

But, see, I'm on like week three of being housebound 75% of the time. So it's getting a bit old.

I have gotten stuff done. For instance, I finished my final project for my graduate class, which is due Tuesday, midday yesterday. It made me feel amazingly good to get it in, done, and ahead of a deadline for once. I have most likely aced the class, but we'll see.

I also winter-proofed my house a little bit more, putting temporary caulk stuff into all the cracks around the windows. It isn't helping enough. My downstairs neighbor is still gone, and last I heard, until March. Without her ceiling radiant heat drifting upwards, and only having ceiling radiant heat myself, my floors are cold, and I'm sick of it, but there's little I can do now. Especially with snow all over the place.

I have not worked out. I'd love to kill some time going to the gym. However, I've still got a week on my "dripping with radiation" status, and sweat counts. So I'm just getting more and more out of shape. I don't get a blood test until Febuary, either, so I could be producing no thyroid, and be in desperate need of medication, but I won't know for a while. Looks like this winter is going to be another one like two years ago, where I get out of shape and risk my health with inactivity. Well, I'm not getting another embolism. I may be stuck in the house, but I can do calisthenics, and with my downstairs neighbor out, there's none of the usual complaints about noise as I jump up and down like a lunatic. Still, it's not working out with weights.

I'm also playing a lot of WoW. Fallowgrey's in a raid group. It's a bit more of a commitment than the Z'A raid group from back during the summer, but only by two more nights a month, when you do the math. It's certainly cool to be "in the wave" for once, rather than the wave after, or just missing out entirely. As of last night, we got all the way to the last boss in Naxx10, and this is just our second week. Of course, a lot of the other folks have alts running Naxx25 and the rest, but it still feels like victory to me.

I'm lucking out pretty well, and have been dripping in upgrades. And the stuff is pretty, for once, or wacky-looking. The Naxx10 items recycled some of the cooler item models of the old Naxxramas drops, which means pretty stuff. It's old hat to the old hands, but I'm liking it. The Charmed Cierge is my favorite. What's more wacky than running around with a lit candelabra made of three tiny skulls? Sadly, I got an upgrade: the Sulfur Stave, so I had to put the other away. On the other hand, I wasn't too too disappointed when at some idle time I noticed the staffhead's little wings flap and the head moves, and it's too cute.

Besides that, I started a druid, "Evring", and leveled him to 26 so far. Originally it was so I could play at aliwings and head58's level, but they're pretty far ahead of me. But now I'm just going on for the love of druids. I knew I really liked the play from when I got ol' Soot-and-Ash to level 29 when we were playing on the Horde side as the "Certified Haughties". But still: so much fun. Now the thought is that I'll have a DPS alt: either melee or ranged, as necessary. We'll see if I bog down in levels 40-60, like many alts before him. Oh, and I'm *very* happy I snagged the name: the reference is perfect, although this elven prince's kitten form isn't entirely purple. Indigo, more, but close enough. And, so far, unique across all servers, like Fallowgrey.

Tomorrow I'll get out of the house, hopefully. And then I'll be back to work, sigh, and another week of sitting around the house at night. Things will change in February, I hope.

Edit to Add, 11:20pm: TA already graded my project: aced the class. No school work until the next course starts at the end of the month! Woo hoo!

So very much has ended in the past two weeks: it feels like my comfortable routines for the past year are all up in the air. And it's not a bad thing; new routines are good. But I'd be doing all the things that ended a disservice if I didn't write wrap-up posts.

The first thing that's ended: My one-on-one workouts. And they didn't exactly end on an up note.

I knew by the end of September that my purchased sessions would be running out in early October, but it's never good to only get four sessions' warning. But I think that's to the owner's advantage, in that it puts you in the mood to buy a few more, to hold you over to make the decision, and next thing you know, you've signed up for three more months. At least, that's how it feels like it happened to me three months ago. I say feels: looking back at my journal, I don't think it was that way, or even felt that way in June. But, setup or not, two Thursdays ago, when Bob had me into his office, I didn't re-up. I couldn't. I can't keep my savings plan for renovating my place on hold forever, and, honestly, I'm out of savings. Which nowadays? A bad idea.

The other reason I didn't re-up is that I haven't been entirely happy with my new trainer of the past three months, Justin. I've posted about it before. There was just a little too much wandering around in exercises, and making it up as he went along, to make me happy. He's a good trainer; he knows his stuff, and he certainly challenged me. But he wasn't the right fit.

This was evidenced by the final wrap-up progress test I took last Wednesday morning. There was, despite three more months of personalized workouts, little progress, and worse, there was regression. Maybe not every fitness test a person can take sees progress, and not all my previous tests showed 100% progress. But this was too much.

Here's the final Fitness Together numbers, given, like in my last post on the subject, for all the tests: 9/6/07, 10/23/07, 12/27/07, 6/7/08, and now 10/9/08:

1) One rep bench press max, in lbs.: 113, 193, 233, 247, and 207. I can, thanks to being only 200 lbs. now, still bench my own weight (technically.) But what happened? We never really did chest exercises consistently. In fact, it wasn't until we knew the test was coming that Justin thought to try out doing more bench; he'd had me on various minor dumbbell exercises for the past two weeks. Or had me on my regular pushups, but with a plate on my back, and that was it. And I didn't think to worry; I guess I thought it was time to work on my shoulders and back... which we never seemed to manage to do consistently either. At least the weight is still considered Average on their test.

2) Flexibility test, in distance: 10, 12.25, 12.5, 14.5, and 14.5. So, still Below Average, no improvement. I mention this here because I think the worst part of the whole experience was when Justin pushed me to cheat on this test. First he described that I should do the test "bouncing to reach" (which is just a bad idea when stretching anyway). I turned him down: I want the test to be consistent. And then when I made it to 14.5, he wanted me to do it a third, and then a fourth time. I admit that on the fourth time, I was getting warmer, and maybe could have bounced my way further. But what kind of assessment would that have been? Plus, what would happen next time I went to do the test, and didn't cheat? I'd just see a decline. So I just pushed until I hit the last measurement, and didn't push further, just to get the result to stick. Honestly, I never really worried about the results of this test, but it's pretty indicative of my final problems with my trainer.

3) Body Fat: 24.1%, 21.9%, 23.5%, 20.5%, and 20.3%. And here I'd thought this was the one I'd see progress on, as I've been seeing more veins and less fat on my arms. Still, I'm more than happy to hold place with this measurement: if I stayed 20% body fat at my age and into my forties, I'd be pretty pleased.

4) Chin ups: 2, ~3, 3, 4.5, and 3. This was actually the biggest disappointment. Again, it's not officially on the test, but it's a personal goal of mine. In fact, when I picked up with Justin, I really emphasized that shoulder/back/arm strength was my real goal for this quarter, and they'd be measured by chin ups. We spent a couple of sessions trying out new exercises and planning a daily exercise for me to do to increase this particular strength. That is, early on we did. Over the past few weeks, he dropped the lat pulldowns and bar pulldowns from the schedule. He kept mixing in core work, or surprising me with deciding we couldn't let squats go by the wayside, or some other change to the schedule that meant we didn't work on this. By the last two weeks, I was begging him to work in lat pulldowns "next workout" at the end of every workout. I think we did some once in the past four weeks. So, here's what happens.

I was pretty mad by the end of the tests. And Justin could sense it, because he started doing his overcompensating thing, where he starts praising me to the high heavens, or talking about what friends we've become, or how large the weights are I work with, or how I'm his most challenging customer. But he'd clearly blown it. It's my fault as well, of course, and since it's a test of me, I can't help but kick myself, too. Why didn't I demand more boring, but concentrated workouts? Why didn't I just take my fate into my own hands, and start telling him what I wanted to do when it was clear he couldn't plan it? I don't know. And now of course I have to go and do this on my own, and I'm worried I'll lose more ground.

I'm clearly so worried about it, that I'm jamming up, and that's not helpful. I'm instead avoiding the problem. Have I been to set up a new program at my old gym yet? Nope. Have I gone back through my workouts and put together one of my own yet? Nope.

I must get back to the gym on Thursday night. So Wednesday I'd better make a plan.

In the meantime, Justin found me on Facebook, and asked to Friend me. I have no idea what to do with that. I will drop back by at some point: I have to, I owe him a tip. I kinda walked out of my last workout with him in a fuzz, and so forgot to give him his. He did leave the door open for me to drop by and pick up a final program from him (since he hadn't gotten together the requested one by our last session.) So I've got to do that. Of course, I can feel myself avoiding that task, too. What do I say to him about not Friending him yet?

Well, it's been a few weeks, and it's time for an evaluation of my new trainer, Justin, on his own merits instead of Bob's program. And, well, it's not so awesome.

He's very eager. He's pushing me. He's not offensive. But, alas, he's just not as polished and professional, and every so often I have a sucky workout as he tries to wing his way over a lack of planning. If he was a trainer in a gym, I'd think he's pretty good, and, in fact, Justin's working on the side a couple hours as a gym trainer at "Vim" on Mass Ave near MIT. But at Fitness Together, he's working for me at an hourly rate several times as much as a gym trainer gets. Each of these sessions, the few I have left, are precious to me. So I expect demand better service. And I've told him so. So far, our little talk a couple sessions ago has seen some improvement in his planning. But, honestly, I don't expect it to last. There's something about how often he feels the need to say "Trust me" or make outrageous promises about results that just doesn't lend itself to complete belief. Still, he might prove me wrong. He's certainly trying to earn my respect, which is nice, so I'll keep at it. And he's very different with the exercises, so I'm learning a lot.

Plus, he, like Patrick before him, grasped the utility of giving me an exercise I can do every day to improve myself, and work the rest of the sessions around it. And as far as I can tell so far, this daily exercise should prove to give me good results, if only in my daily looks.

Every day, I'm still doing my 25 pushups, maybe two sets. But then, Every Day in September, I'm doing 6-8 straight barbell bicep curls, 6-8 double barbell hammer curls, and 10-12 barbell presses... all in a row, no putting the weight down, maximal weight. And repeat. The big bicep superset, daily. Justin kind of threw this set out there one workout, and said it could be done daily. I immediately jumped on it, just 'cause it was like the pushups, which were pretty successful. He thought I was kidding, but that night I went down to City Sports, and bought a set of 30 lb barbells (my current 6 rep weight), and started up the next day. And I haven't stopped, even Friday and Saturday when I felt a little under the weather. And, wow, even if I don't get permanent results (which is near impossible), it's apparently a better morning regiment for my appearance than anything I've ever done with my hair, clothing, you name it. It's been kinda frightening how many people have made comments on how much better I look. I mean, I knew pumped arms are a thing for male beauty, but jeez, people, how shallow are we? (Shallow enough for me to start to work on my arms for a couple months, that's how. ;) My boss said something, my co-workers said something, my friends, and this guy on the bus started checking me out. Folks, it's just a pump.

Hopefully I'll be buying a set of 35 lb weights soon. And then 40s, and so on... Although this time I'll take a cab home with them: trying to walk fifteen blocks home carrying barbells was kinda a dumb idea. Especially after a full workout.

So, I knew my sessions were running out, and I'd talked to Bob, the owner of my Fitness Together, and pretty much told him I really couldn't continue. And I got to thinking about what I'd do after, back at my old gym. A few of their personal training sessions? Look for a workout partner on the Internet? Does the gym have a bulletin board? But then, ( Boston Sports Club really blew it. )

So, Friday, Bob sends me an email saying that indeed, his records show I have only four more sessions, but since he's out of town for the week as of Friday night, could we ( settle what we're going to do at our Friday session. I leave my wallet at home, but go, and he makes an offer. ) I tell him I still need to think about it, and I'd have to go back to get my wallet anyway. He lets me go.

I do my post-workout jog home. I go to check the phone messages I'd hadn't had time to check before. There's one from BSC, ( being stupid again. ) I immediately call Bob, catch him as he's leaving, run back the 11 blocks, and buy three more months of personal training. Hello, debt, but fuck you BSC.

The best part of this? I go in Saturday morning for my first workout with Justin (alone), and it's fantastic. Not perfect, but ( he definitely scored three major points. )

So, all in all, I feel pretty good about changing my mind. I just can't look at my credit card for another two weeks, for fear of hating myself.

So, with my trainer off to art school, and my sessions all run out, what have I been doing with myself to keep up my transformative health program going? Well... the personal trainer bit is not quite over yet.

I have some non-quite-determined set of sessions left, due to cancellations on my part (with enough notice), and due to some on Patrick's part (without). The owner of this Fitness Together, Bob, had scheduled me out through August, but according to him, he just picked some arbitrary future date when switching the scheduling from Patrick to the new guy. Ah, the new guy. After going through a two week interviewing and testing process, this new guy bailed after his first day coming in, saying the commute (a reverse commute, mind you, in off-hours) was too difficult, so much that he couldn't go on. Yeah, great. I never even got to work out with him. So, Bob himself has stepped in to take up my remaining sessions.

And, well, he's great. He's really great. Patrick was a great trainer, but Bob just is a higher level; he really knows what he's doing. My two weeks of workouts with him have been so much more challenging, to just the right degree: I understand how he's been able to start two franchises. He's putting me through all kinds of higher level exercises, really pushing my new hypertrophy workouts. After just one week (one full cycle), he was able to judge what I needed, and he's re-customized my workout to be very specific to my weaknesses and take advantage of some of my hard-won strength. It's kicking my ass just how it needs to. And Monday night, I had the pump of my life; I totally didn't recognize the hulk in the mirror. It's almost meeting the fantasy of what I thought this would be like when I decided to pay so much for it.

So now I'm a tiny bit conflicted, which, honestly, is probably why Bob is pouring it on. He's not doing any kind of sales pitch to get me to stay; he doesn't say anything. But, man, the workouts: I will not get anything like this outside. But: I can't afford it any longer. And, well, there's other stuff I put on hold to do these. Thanks to Bob's limited schedule, I keep missing bryant's new game; I can't get him to move appointments. And, I know for a fact, Bob won't be my trainer for long. As soon as he gets a new trainer in, I'll be handed off. So, no, when it's over, it's over. But, wow, if I could just work it out so I could keep going, and with Bob? I'd be s'huge.

So I'll be enjoying this while I can. And, well, what will I do when the clock runs out? I don't know. It's looking like that will be July 2nd, if my count of sessions taken is correct, and we don't end up missing some. So this week, and next? I plan to run with it. I hope that I can move the 25th. Bob's doing a final interview with another guy on Friday, so hopefully more appointment times will open up... and I can convince Bob to shove some other clients on to the new guy, and move his time with me on Wednesday, so I can get the expert for last few weeks. And then... I guess it's back to the gym.

Unless anyone has got a couple grand just lying around they'd like to donate to a bad cause?

So I just had my last appointment with Patrick. He's leaving the job to start art school in the summer session, so today's his last day. I myself only have like six appointments left; if I had skipped so many recently for trips, and illness, it would have been my last, too. So, to finish, we did one last evaluation/progress assessment test today. It'd be a while since the last one (oops, I forgot to ask for one in March, so it's back to the end last calendar year!)

Here's the numbers, given for the tests at the start (9/6/07), six weeks in (10/23/07), end of calendar year (12/27/07), and today, at the end:

1) One rep bench press max in lbs: 113, 193, 233, 247, or 127% higher. Note, again, I didn't actually lift 247 lbs: I did 8 good reps (9th was a little weak) at 185lbs, and that's a calculation. It's the most impressive result I have: it's certainly the most I've ever benched, like, ever, period. I should have noticed the improvement: we'd been getting up to 15 reps on the old "car axle", plus doing two sets of 20 pushups during every workout, plus me doing 20-25 twice every day. Looking back at old posts, I see I was pushing 10 reps on the car axle back in the day and going home exhausted. The result on their Assessment Test: Well Above Average. Where I started: Well Below Average.

2) Flexibility test, in distance: 10, 12.25, 12.5, 14.5, or 45% further. I can touch my toes, easily now, but not past, and not for long. The result: Below Average. Where I started: Well Below Average.

3) Body Fat: 24.1%, 21.9%, 23.5%, 20.5%, or 15% lower. It probably helps to know my weights at each point, too: 209, 212, 215, 200. Yes, today I came in at 200 lbs, even. And it's a definitely more muscular one than when I crossed that line the first time going up two years ago. It would have been nice to come down below 20% body fat, which, according to their assessment, is dead average. But considering we'd been doing these fat tests more often than the big assessment, and back six weeks ago I was at 22.1%, I'm pretty happy. Enough to go back to strength training, and cut back a little on all the fat burning stuff.

4) Chinups: 2, ~3, 3, 4.5 This wasn't officially on the test, but is one of those classic tests, so Patrick and I did them off the official computer test record. I was very much surprised with today's result. Three chinups was pretty much my max for years, and that third one was always a little dodgy. Back when I started, we couldn't even count it. Then, today, to blast past three, do a fourth, and fail half way up on a fifth? No way, Bill. Yes way, Ted. It probably helped that I was lifting 12-15 less pounds than the last two times. Clearly I just need to lose twenty more pounds, while keeping up all my current strength, to get the full ten. Ha!

We did some body measurements, but man, they were all over the place. I'm officially ignoring all the other ones he did, including the 13.5" upper arm measurement once upon a time. Suffice it to say that I'm still bigger than a 42" chest now, so I need that new 44L jacket size, however roomy I'm finding it after losing 15 pounds. And I'm back down to my old 33" waist... which is annoying, as the 34x36 pants I was buying on the Internet were fitting so well, but now don't, and there is no such thing as a 33x36 out there, untailored. Oh, and we're sure my forearms are larger, but that's because it's obvious.

So, what did I get out of my nine months, and small fortune? Well, according to their overall test assessment, I came up from Well Below Average across all scores to Average across all, Above Average in certain areas which I concentrated on. Well, that's good enough for me. I am in shape. It would have been lovely to come out nine months later buff, cut, etc., but I can't let that get me down: it's going to take a bit longer. (How do those Hollywood actors do it?) Every test, I'm in the best shape of my life, and that shape is better than the last time. And I'm finally out of the strength gutter I'd been in since high school, just in time for my 20th reunion. So, yeah, worth the investment.

The question is, now what? I've got two more weeks of sessions, to be done with the owner while he works to hire in more staff. I'd love to continue, but I burned my savings doing this: there's no more money to pay to go further. So: back to the regular gym? Intermittent trainers? Buy more workout books? I don't know. All I know is, I want to keep going forward, if I can figure out how.

Note: Once again, I ask forgiveness of all those who struggle to lose weight for what I'm about to write. If it helps, flip all references to "lost weight" into "gained weight"

Today at the gym, once Patrick's next appointment showed up, I sekritly weighed myself on the official scale. I figured I'd maybe have lost a bit of weight, and this way I could put a more accurate current weight into the elliptical. I'd been 212 last time, after having been 214 at the start of the "fat burn" phase. Well, I came up 204. I double-checked the scale; it's balanced. Holy crap, I lost eight pounds.

It's causing a bit of panic. Did I relapse into hyperthyroidism? Since I'm supposed to be in remission, my next blood test isn't until July. Should I call my endocrinologist and schedule an immediate blood test? I'm checking myself in all kinds of ways: did I lose strength over the past three weeks? Well... no. I'm a stronger runner, and with the pushups I've been getting progressively better. Maybe I lost the muscle just in one place... no, that's not how the relapse works. General muscle loss, all over.

Or... just possibly, it was eight pounds of fat, like I've been trying to lose. But, it just doesn't feel possible. It seems like when I could lose ten pounds in a week. Wait... checking. It's been four weeks since the 212 weigh-in. And six since I weighed 214. So it was a pound a week loss, now it's two pounds a week loss. Is that normal? Or is it thyroid induced?

I think I'm going to go with normal, so, um, go me. But it's weird to me, people, WEIRD.

Speaking of weird: the official spelling for my left pec's name is apparently "Amile." And my trainer found it amusing that y'all all found the names weird. After a brief discussion, he reminded me my biceps are named "Joe Jackson" (right) and "Felix" (left). I vaguely remember him naming my "guns" at one point, and apparently he hasn't forgotten. Again, totally no idea where these names come from. Shoeless Joe batted left, so maybe he means the musician?

So, back in April, I made a little pledge. Now that some of the craziness of life has settled down, let's ( take stock. )

So, for every day in May, I'm going to try:

1) Two sets of push-ups, twenty the first, and more than ten the second, every day.

2) One hour of fat-burn level exercise, or twenty minutes of cardiovascular, every day.

3) Shop once every week, and make a real meal at least once every day. (So far, I've already failed to shop this past seven days, but I have made one real meal every day, albeit breakfast, they were non-bar eating breakfasts.

I'd like to add "25 crunches" or more, but it's already the 8th, so I'd be behind for the month. I'll do some, and maybe next month I'll be quoting Patrick Bateman.

In other news, I finally got an exam, and after two hours of totally blurriness yesterday afternoon, I have contacts again, and so peripheral vision. And this may sound crazy, but with only glasses, I was missing out on what I myself look like. I guess there's certain ways of looking at yourself in mirrors, or otherwise, that require full vision. And I look pretty good. I was kinda surprised. Apparently some of my body image issues were actually an inability to really see an image of my body. Huh. I guess we'll see how that goes. In the meantime, I am once again LOVING not wearing glasses. Honestly, I think I really dislike them, but I let myself suck it up. Maybe I should consider laser surgery, after all.

T-minus seven full days and counting to my high school reunion weekend.

Today I did not take my anti-coagulation medicine for the first time since July. Don't worry, it was on doctor's orders.

At last, my doctors are letting me go off the Coumadin warfarin sodium. After talking to my allergist pulmonary specialist two weeks ago, he said to do one last INR blood test on the 21st, and then stop. Since I'm in remission for the Graves', this means I'll be down to getting blood tests once every three months or so. So, naturally, during yesterday's last blood test, my favorite phlebotomist managed to screw up, stick me bad, and have to stick me again in a different spot. So much for nostalgia.

There isn't much difference so far. I managed to cut myself two minutes ago, and it's still bleeding. We're undergoing renovations at work, so we have to pack up all our belongings, and work from home Thursday through Wednesday. (Oh, except those of us who have direly important meetings we'll need to haul ourselves in for.) The renovations have already started as of last night, leaving all kinds of fun cutting surfaces for clumsy me to run into. Could we have waited until I stopped being a bleeder? My INR levels will probably be down only once construction is done, naturally.

In other health news, I biked in today, figuring it would save me my daily running. Alas, I forgot that my half-hour commute is only fifteen minutes on bike. So I'll have to take the really excessively long route home tonight. I do need to take a break from running every day; I seem to have hurt some stabilizer muscle deep in my lower right calf. I took a break from running Sunday and yesterday, replacing it with lower impact cardio. Biking doesn't seem to hurt, so if I can figure a way to do 45 minutes of it, I'll be golden. As for the daily pushups, they continue, but at a higher level: doing 20, even 25, has become relatively easier. Patrick, my trainer, likes the plan, and has worked doing three sets of 20 (more like 21, 18, 15... collapse) into our workouts. So on my off days, I'm doing two sets of 20 from now on.

So, new healthier Bill here. Except for allergy medicine and multivitamins, I don't have to take an meds. Or bleed a lot.

It feels like three weeks since I last posted, but it's only been a week and a few days. I thought of many many posts to make, but just didn't get the time. I've been interrupted in writing this post like five times: that first sentence started out as "it's been less than a week."

Let's see, what was I going to post about. Well, let's do the things of interest that aren't all about Bill, first. A miracle happened at Harvard: the university has one academic calendar now. One, not one for each school. It took four presidents working on it, but it happened. It's hard for folks outside Harvard to understand how huge this is, but trust me, it is. Students can finally really cross-register for courses without worrying about the end of their classes being at different times. Harvard isn't a half month off or so from the rest of academic reality. The chances of getting a central university registration system are that much closer to reality (but not in the works quite yet.) And the dreaded "Exams After Winter Break" are ended. All coming to Harvard starting September 2009. It gives me hope that other "ETOB" problems can also be worked out, that there can be university-wide definitions of things, so there really can be a sensible data warehouse/reporting for the whole university. Did I mention lately how much I love President Faust? (and Dr. Bok, of course, who helped tremendously on this one during his regency.)

Now let's get the work complaining out of the way: ( Last week was hell. )

In physical training, ( I'm doing good. )

In volunteer work, ( I suck. )

In the love-life department, ( nothing, but there is a plan. )

Last, but certainly not least, ( there's WoW. )

I can feel the deeper WoW addiction starting to take hold again, thanks to getting progress and the new attention I'm getting. When I'm logging in right before leaving for work in the morning, that's a sign that I've got to pull myself back from the brink. I won't let it take over, and it probably won't, what with everything I've got scheduled most nights now. But I've got to keep aware. There's plenty of things I'd love to procrastinate that I shouldn't be, and WoW will definitely replace those things if I'm not careful.

Well, I was going to fail to post to LJ for the rest of my vacation, because I'd fallen into that same post-Christmas depression as per usual, and because I'm off for a trip this evening. And, as per the course, the depression was hitting pretty bad last night, and this morning. It was the usual feelings of failure, due to failing to get everything done on my vacation that I'd been unable to do the past two months plus the usual feeling like I don't want to do anything anyway, because I'm supposed to be relaxing, and next thing you know I'm not doing anything, and beating myself up about it. Fun!

But, on top of all that, I did my next evaluation test at my trainer's, and the news was not all good: in fact, it makes me doubt my previous evaluation results. My body fat wasn't lower, it was higher. My resting pulse, my recovery, all the same, or back to what they were the first test, back in September. And my tape measurements, except for chest and shoulders, weren't what they used to be last time. Did he miss read last time? Have I been fooling myself about past progress? This of course starts the usual "I'm not getting anywhere with exercise, so why bother" thoughts in my head. Oh, and I failed to get out and get a good outfit together for New Years.

Then, I don't know where from, possibly panic about outfits, I started doing laundry, and laying out outfits, and I felt this energy. So I started ironing and folding. And ironing and folding. And ironing. About a half hour ago, I reached the last things in the bottom of the old, ugly, broken green basket: the sheets that are such a large job, I haven't ironed them in months, maybe years even. I just covered them up with the next set of clothes, and the ironing was never done. But today? I just had to complete something. So I cleaned and ironed those sheets, too. As of 3:05pm today, I have FINISHED ALL THE IRONING. I put all the clothes away, too. Then, to celebrate this rare occasion, I hacked that ugly fucking basket into bits with my strong scissors, and put its remains out in the recycling. I am FREE of the ugly green basket. Ha!

With the broken green basket finally out of my life (after decades probably), I turned my refreshed, rosy-tinted vision to the rest of my life. Hey! Reviewing my printed results, apparently I set a record for my bench last night: 175 lbs, ten honest reps. And that was only one day after a full chest workout. Patrick, my trainer, thinks I could, as a 1 rep max, bench 225 lbs... which is more than my weight. Ergo, I can bench my weight. Rawr! And, hey, I didn't make it to level 58 as planned, but I did get Fallowgrey from level 50 to 56. Six levels in half as many days, hey!

So, I'd put my "Tallest Triumphant" icon up on this post, but it was all the ironing that did it. So, it's Ironing Smithers, FTW!

Death to the Old Year! Happy New Year!

This morning started waaaay early, so I could squeeze in my progress test with my personal trainer first thing (appt. at 6:15am). Saturday marked the end of six full weeks of workouts, 17 sessions (I was sick for one). It's pretty much the half-way point in what I've purchased so far, and since tomorrow I'll be out of town until Monday, it made sense to just write off this week, and do the fitness test now.

In my line of work, I do a lot of testing. In our performance testing, we usually take a first reading of where performance currently is in the regular code, but don't call it our "baseline." It's just the initial baseline reading. Later, once you've run through the performance tests a few times, you take a true baseline: what you've learned on the way is how you might have cheated along the way making measurements, or what the natural error range is, so you can properly adjust.

Looking at my results from this morning's second fitness test, except for a few key measurements I can't debate, it's just the taking of true baseline. Oh, my trainer was all over the results: there were some percentage improvements in double digits, by the numbers shown. But doing some quick analysis, I can see some of the stuff isn't that trustworthy yet: we'll need a few more measurements. Now, that said, I'm pretty damn happy with them. You'll see why if you compare today to some of the measurements I shared last time:

1) 1 rep bench: from 115 lbs to 195 lbs. Again, not that I actually did 195 lbs: I did 10 reps at 145 lbs, and, like last time, I wouldn't have counted that 10th rep, but Patrick did. The weight I pushed was not a big surprise, as I've been doing 135 lbs. ("the car axle") for 10 reps twice per session the past two weeks as part of the chest supersets. But I'd forgotten what I'd started at. Even when I was in shape, I'd done maybe 6 reps at 135 a couple of times back on my own: I never did 145, ever. 9 reps amazed me: a personal best. And a 70% increase in 1 rep max in six weeks is hard for me to believe, even if I remember doing it.
2) Flexibility test: 10cm to 12.25cm. Now I'm on the scale. I can touch my toes. Still, the test gives me a score of "well below average," so plenty of room for improvement.
3) 24.1% Body Fat to 21.9%. That test was the one I was a little apprehensive about, that in gaining muscle from eating so much more, I'd gain fat, too. Instead, a pretty good result. They put "average" for my BMI at 20.5%: it's not out of the range of possibility I'll get there in the next six weeks.
4) 13" arms to 13.5". Here we get into one of the measurements I'm not trusting so much: the tape is very subjective, although Patrick did his best. But a half an inch is well within an error margin: as an example, my calves went from 15.5 to 15. So we'll just say the same.
5) Weight: 209 to 212 lbs. OK, this one is the good news. It's fairly trustworthy, and coupled with the body fat percentage loss, it tells me what I kinda knew: I have to have lost fat mass, like 4 lbs. worth, and the most likely candidate for replacing it, plus the 3 extra lbs, is muscle. I doubt I got more bone mass in the last six weeks.

So, all in all, a good baseline. Now I have to work just as hard for the next two weeks to improve off the true baseline.

OK, well, I seem to be tiring out. Which is probably a good thing, as the next stage would have been to go out and find a dance floor... any dance floor... and dance myself to exhaustion.

It wasn't a manic attack, I don't think. I don't usually get all pumped with those. I think it most likely my recovering muscles wanted a pump to get rid of the lactic acid or whatever built up when I was exhausted Saturday. On the other hand, I did finally start really cleaning my bathroom for the first time in months, and accomplished a major goal in that I regrouted the tub. Cleaning is often the thing that tosses me into a manic, OCD craze, where nothing is safe. But considering I haven't started cleaning the outside windows, or putting in storm windows, or any of the many other tasks to be done around here, it probably wasn't that, or was only a bit.

It could be that I listened to all my dance music for five hours today, while doing the bathroom. Skimming through iTunes before syncing Dagobert up, I see that I hadn't listened to 75% of it in a year. The beat will get into your blood, just ask the Master.

Or, it could be I'm just in a great mood. Teaching math on Thursdays has done something to me at a fundamental level. I can't say if it's a lifting of some hidden sense of guilt, or just a feeling of usefulness and fulfillment, or the good feeling from volunteering. Or all three. But it continues to knock something loose down deep inside that is just making me happy. Hell, maybe it's just doing the math again, and delighting in it. I don't know. They threw me into what is apparently the hardest subject room, where the most students stick and fail. And indeed, people were struggling. But I managed to get one of them to pass out of the room by the end of night, got two students to really get long division with decimals (as ugly as I remembered), and didn't let two younger kids, who were cheating off each other, get me down.

The good mood could also be from actually going to Friday's Installation of President Faust. It was totally worth standing in the rain for two hours. The pageantry, the traditions, seeing the "relics", the sense of being at a historic event: all fantastic an experience, but all that paled before Dr. Faust's speech. It was one of the most inspirational speeches for me personally as I've ever heard live. I could not be more pleased with our new president. She reminded me all what it's really about, what the mission is. And she's not all "relevant, profitable skills": no, she was all Go, Humanities! My favorite two lines, I'm almost tempted to make into a T-shirt: "A university looks both backwards and forwards in ways that must – that even ought to – conflict with a public’s immediate concerns or demands. Universities make commitments to the timeless, and these investments have yields we cannot predict and often cannot measure." And the letter to the future from President Conant she read? How freaking awesome is that??

Or, maybe, to come full circle, it's just the physical muscle gains. I don't want to admit to myself, or take a complement from other folks that they're happening, for fear of fooling myself into relaxing. But gains are happening. Friday Patrick put real weights on the bench press... with the two 45s on the ends, it looked like a car axle. And I lifted it two sets of 6-8 each. Next week is the half-way point in the weeks I bought, and, not coincidentally, the next progress evaluation test. I feel a little weird, maybe a bit of trepidation about it. I feel like this has been the most successful six weeks I've ever had working out... so I need to have worked, I need there to be progress. I've put a lot into the diet, the workouts, and then there's the money. I want to know I am succeeding after all that. I don't want to fail to have progressed, and proved I can't actually have this, after all. But you know... I'm going to have made progress. The weird feeling is that I'm actually confident I'm making it for once, that the fear is actually groundless.

(null)

Happy Birthday, Massachusetts! (And Lafayette, and Jane Addams.)

So last night was my first one-on-one workout session with Patrick, my new personal trainer, which was pretty much just one long fitness test. It went well, although the results leave me with much to work on. The measurements I'm planning to change the most, and so work the most on, in order of interest:

1) 1 rep bench: 115 lbs. Not that I actually did that much. We did 10 reps at a lower weight, and that just barely. I wouldn't count that 10th rep, even if Patrick did.
2) Flexibility test: 10cm: Barely on the scale. I can't touch my toes, much less go past them to push up his little scale thingy.
3) 24.1% Body Fat. At least it's less than 25%. "A quarter of your body is fat" sounds pretty ugly.
4) 13" arms. Much of which is fat; I expect if I lose body fat, I'll lose inches around "the guns" (which I'm now calling "the rifles", 'cause it's more accurate.)
5) Weight: 209 lbs. Or, doing a quick calculation: 50 lbs of fat. By that same quick calculation: if I was 10% body fat, I'd weigh 175 lbs, which is what I did weigh back in the bad old days of the Graves' Disease. Perhaps I have not gained as much muscle as I think. Mind you, these calculations aren't real, as percentage of body fat doesn't mean a perfectly strict percentage, but it's still not very good news.

So, in order: add strength, add muscle, reduce fat percentage. These are my goals.

My trainer, Patrick, is a nice guy, but I'm going to have to work a lot on my end on the conversational exchange. I think I intimidate him, or something. It might be that he's just tired: he apparently moved on Moving Day, poor soul. But he was also pretty touch-shy. I know I don't give off an aura of approachability, God knows, but you shouldn't finch when having to touch me, especially if I'm trying hard to be open. He had to take measurements, and he kept holding the measuring tape so gingerly, he dropped it. He had to take my pulse twice, once for a full minute count, and he didn't look happy about it. I did my best to nice, casual, even clinical. But he walked around me with the tape to measure my chest, instead of just reaching between my arms. It was a little weird. I guess I'm not very embraceable.

It can't be the gay thing, can it? I mean, he works in the South End. Plus, while I wasn't trying to be, I was pretty straight-acting: I'd give myself a 85% for the evening. I even went on a little bit about planning on going with my "buddies" to Las Vegas, with them leaving their wives and families behind. Doesn't that earn me like 10% more? And he's so not my type, I haven't even checked him out or anything. Well, whatever. He'll have to get used to me. I'm not making up a girlfriend from Canada for him. We'll see how the next week or so goes.