I am not sure when I physically peaked- although it must have been around the time I bench pressed the bar, sans weight, in 7th grade- but I do know that I have been in my own personal, physical valley for the last couple months. Having bounced back from a recent bout of pneumonia with the thumping reaction of a Play-Doh ball, I have found myself sucking air as if it weren’t around, every time I ventured out with my Nikes on. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve never pretended to enjoy jogging- only doing it because the one thing I hate more is doing nothing- but I was starting to cuss the hills before I reached them, resorting immediately to the naughtiest- the words reserved for truly awful experiences.
Although, admittedly, this low point cannot be solely blamed on the bacteria that decided to pop-a-squat in my lungs. I blame my kids as well. Infants, diapers, bedrest, lack of sleep, lack of sanity, and that nagging feeling that walking out the door to exercise upon arriving home is akin to wife treason.
Hey honey, glad to be home. What is that your cooking?
I would love to help out with the children you bore, but I was thinking I would exercise instead.
Gotta watch that cholesterol you know…..oh, I think someone has a dirty diaper. See ya later.
I know, I know you tri-athlete types are thinking I could exercise in the morning. Assuming I get sleep, which has been a false assumption over the last 2 years, I love to get up at what I affectionately call, “the butt crack of dawn”. But there are two things I cannot do upon rising with the roosters: read & work out. This is a hard-earned lesson from many years of working at Kanakuk camps. See that guy over there, the one reading his Bible as the sun comes up? Or how about that gal coming in from her morning 7-mile run? Those two have one thing in common- they’re not me. And I quit feeling guilty about it long ago.
So, not exercising in the morning left only the evening to sweat. And, somehow, after wrestling two pint-sized energy zappers into their respective beds, I could not muster that strength to do something I hated anyway. Besides, truth be known, I only manage sufficient desire to run when I get to be with Ginny. She loves to run- and this fact, in itself is one of life’s cruel mysteries. Blame it on the endorphins, but my wife will use more words in a 20 minute run than an entire date night. And I love to hear what she is thinking. So I run. If she does.
But my little run-lover has been halted over the last couple of years due to pregnancy, bedrest, recent childbirth or milk supply issues (that last sentence will not last long as Ginny will beg its deletion). With the one I chase on the couch, I went into pneumonia in the worst shape of my life and came out opting for elevators over stairs and dedicating too much time circling the lot looking for closer parking spots.
Simultaneous to further decline of my never-toned abs, I started getting grey hairs in multiples. Oh and tomorrow I turn 33.
Lately I’ve been spotted running up hills more often and have discovered a direct relationship between frequency of running and fewer expletives. With about three weeks dedication, I have worked myself back to the place I called “the worst shape of my life” just four months before.
And I am proud of me. Can I say that? I’m out there running through the University of Arkansas campus with college girls galore staring for all the wrong reasons- the air catching each of my new grey hairs, as I plod along, desperately trying to avoid eye contact and f-bombs. It’s hard work to get back what has been lost, and ultimately it’s a losing battle. I’ll go all wise sage on you here for just a second- I think that is what 33 year old men do.
Let me echo Henry who said it better than I can.
I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life…to put to rout all that was not life; and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.
I have found the pursuit to do so is often humiliating, inconvenient and always uphill.
12 Comments
I am not sure when I physically peaked- although it must have been around the time I bench pressed the bar, sans weight, in 7th grade- but I do know that I have been in my own personal, physical valley for the last couple months. Having bounced back from a recent bout of pneumonia with the thumping reaction of a Play-Doh ball, I have found myself sucking air as if it weren’t around, every time I ventured out with my Nikes on. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve never pretended to enjoy jogging- only doing it because the one thing I hate more is doing nothing- but I was starting to cuss the hills before I reached them, resorting immediately to the naughtiest- the words reserved for truly awful experiences.
Although, admittedly, this low point cannot be solely blamed on the bacteria that decided to pop-a-squat in my lungs. I blame my kids as well. Infants, diapers, bedrest, lack of sleep, lack of sanity, and that nagging feeling that walking out the door to exercise upon arriving home is akin to wife treason.
Hey honey, glad to be home. What is that your cooking?
I would love to help out with the children you bore, but I was thinking I would exercise instead.
Gotta watch that cholesterol you know…..oh, I think someone has a dirty diaper. See ya later.
I know, I know you tri-athlete types are thinking I could exercise in the morning. Assuming I get sleep, which has been a false assumption over the last 2 years, I love to get up at what I affectionately call, “the butt crack of dawn”. But there are two things I cannot do upon rising with the roosters: read & work out. This is a hard-earned lesson from many years of working at Kanakuk camps. See that guy over there, the one reading his Bible as the sun comes up? Or how about that gal coming in from her morning 7-mile run? Those two have one thing in common- they’re not me. And I quit feeling guilty about it long ago.
So, not exercising in the morning left only the evening to sweat. And, somehow, after wrestling two pint-sized energy zappers into their respective beds, I could not muster that strength to do something I hated anyway. Besides, truth be known, I only manage sufficient desire to run when I get to be with Ginny. She loves to run- and this fact, in itself is one of life’s cruel mysteries. Blame it on the endorphins, but my wife will use more words in a 20 minute run than an entire date night. And I love to hear what she is thinking. So I run. If she does.
But my little run-lover has been halted over the last couple of years due to pregnancy, bedrest, recent childbirth or milk supply issues (that last sentence will not last long as Ginny will beg its deletion). With the one I chase on the couch, I went into pneumonia in the worst shape of my life and came out opting for elevators over stairs and dedicating too much time circling the lot looking for closer parking spots.
Simultaneous to further decline of my never-toned abs, I started getting grey hairs in multiples. Oh and tomorrow I turn 33.
Lately I’ve been spotted running up hills more often and have discovered a direct relationship between frequency of running and fewer expletives. With about three weeks dedication, I have worked myself back to the place I called “the worst shape of my life” just four months before.
And I am proud of me. Can I say that? I’m out there running through the University of Arkansas campus with college girls galore staring for all the wrong reasons- the air catching each of my new grey hairs, as I plod along, desperately trying to avoid eye contact and f-bombs. It’s hard work to get back what has been lost, and ultimately it’s a losing battle. I’ll go all wise sage on you here for just a second- I think that is what 33 year old men do.
Let me echo Henry who said it better than I can.
I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life…to put to rout all that was not life; and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.
I have found the pursuit to do so is often humiliating, inconvenient and always uphill.
12 Comments
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on September 16, 2010 at 5:07 pm
Matt, Great post! I’m sure all of us can relate – not me of course :). You are a talented writer. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you should submit this to Runners World. They would love it!
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on September 16, 2010 at 8:33 pm
I’m up to 16 (girl) push-ups.
I thought that fact along with your 15 minute jog definitely fit in the same category. Keep up the good work! On all counts.
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on September 16, 2010 at 10:16 pm
Happy Birthday tomorrow!
I envy your wife’s love of running. For me, it’s one of those things I’d love to be great at, but, well, I can’t get past one song on my ipod before I’m ready to call it quits. So trust me, 15 minutes looks pretty good from where I sit. Literally. Where I SIT. Because me and running don’t get along. I guess it’s a love-hate thing.
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on September 17, 2010 at 10:06 am
This is so classic. I can’t relate at all 🙂
I hate people that exercise in the morning.
With two kids under the age of 4 I’ve started to count pushing the stroller around the block as exercise.
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on September 17, 2010 at 3:24 pm
Loved everything about this 🙂 I TOTALLY count pushing the stroller around the neighborhood as exercise. And lugging around my 30-lb. 2yr. old. I’m convinced all of that counts. For me in this stage of life, anyways.
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on October 12, 2010 at 9:01 am
I LOVE that you can’t read or workout in the morning. I have also stopped feeling guilty about it, but it doesn’t make me stop wishing I could. Thanks for your very eloquent honesty. If it hadn’t been so well written, I would have thought I had written it…=_)
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on October 18, 2010 at 12:26 pm
I LOVE to run. I have three secrets to its sucess. A double runner, suckers and an ipod. Usually my kids sleep while I push, which limits me to trials and parks (fine with me), suckers are bribes for those larger enough to mutter, “no” or stays awake during the run, the ipod, to fool myself into thinking I am “getting away”.
It works usually except when I have something else to do that morning, I go in the morning to get it over with. (Ok so I love running only because it is exercise, its cheap and its free prozac for me.) If I wait, it won’t happen, naps and phone calls trip me up.
I too had the dreaded P word and it has dwarfed my mileage. I am just getting back into the swing of things which winter will force me indoors…too soon.
Just offering some help for when Ginny and you both can both hit the road again. P.S. I wish my spouse would even consider running. He likes bicycles. He says people should only be running from bears.
Matt, Great post! I’m sure all of us can relate – not me of course :). You are a talented writer. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you should submit this to Runners World. They would love it!
I’m up to 16 (girl) push-ups.
I thought that fact along with your 15 minute jog definitely fit in the same category. Keep up the good work! On all counts.
Happy Birthday tomorrow!
I envy your wife’s love of running. For me, it’s one of those things I’d love to be great at, but, well, I can’t get past one song on my ipod before I’m ready to call it quits. So trust me, 15 minutes looks pretty good from where I sit. Literally. Where I SIT. Because me and running don’t get along. I guess it’s a love-hate thing.
This is so classic. I can’t relate at all 🙂
I hate people that exercise in the morning.
With two kids under the age of 4 I’ve started to count pushing the stroller around the block as exercise.
Loved everything about this 🙂 I TOTALLY count pushing the stroller around the neighborhood as exercise. And lugging around my 30-lb. 2yr. old. I’m convinced all of that counts. For me in this stage of life, anyways.
I LOVE that you can’t read or workout in the morning. I have also stopped feeling guilty about it, but it doesn’t make me stop wishing I could. Thanks for your very eloquent honesty. If it hadn’t been so well written, I would have thought I had written it…=_)
I LOVE to run. I have three secrets to its sucess. A double runner, suckers and an ipod. Usually my kids sleep while I push, which limits me to trials and parks (fine with me), suckers are bribes for those larger enough to mutter, “no” or stays awake during the run, the ipod, to fool myself into thinking I am “getting away”.
It works usually except when I have something else to do that morning, I go in the morning to get it over with. (Ok so I love running only because it is exercise, its cheap and its free prozac for me.) If I wait, it won’t happen, naps and phone calls trip me up.
I too had the dreaded P word and it has dwarfed my mileage. I am just getting back into the swing of things which winter will force me indoors…too soon.
Just offering some help for when Ginny and you both can both hit the road again. P.S. I wish my spouse would even consider running. He likes bicycles. He says people should only be running from bears.