There's More to Fitness Than Meets the Eye (Diary of a Slacker: 50 Is Fine Edition)

Not surprisingly, my ambitious fitness endeavor of almost-a-year ago didn't pan out quite as I'd originally planned. I didn't get into the running as quickly/committedly as I'd intended and I certainly didn't shed 30 pounds -- nor even a dress size -- by the time I officially became AARP-eligible. Which isn't to say it was a bust. I have, in fact, made slow but steady progress.

I started running again in mid-August. Initially, outside. It didn't go all that well, though I kept at it for a few weeks. I usually found myself huffing and puffing by the three-quarter-mile mark and typically had to stop and walk a bit -- several times -- to finish out my just-over-a-mile and relatively easy/flat course through the neighborhood and adjacent park. I tried not to let that discourage me but then as we edged into fall and the sunrise got later and later, running outside in the morning became unworkable. (Confession: running in the early dawn creeps me out -- it's too dark and quiet out, and my overactive imagination alternates between a would-be assailant and a rolled ankle compliments of an unseen rock/gumball/tree root.) So, I gave up for a bit.

But I got back to it in October, running on the treadmill at the "Y". Which is a rockin' place at 5:30 - 6:00 a.m. Me and the geriatric set. (Not sure why I'm attempting to draw a distinction there.) I stayed with it, though, and even started bumping up my distance and then my pace. Then I encountered plantar fasciitis. Which sucks. On steroids. (Nothing like feeling like a ball-peen hammer's pounding into your heel.)  That set me back again, though I kept walking (had to keep up with those Fitbit challenges!) and running when I could stand it. I found this nifty little spiky ball thing at Fleet Feet that helped.

(That's not my foot, by the way.)

By the end of December, I'd managed to peel off about 10 pounds. Which felt good. I could tell by the way my clothes were fitting. Even my face and fingers felt thinner. (My rings are loose now.) I wasn't really doing much different diet-wise at that point. Primarily limiting liquid calories and just tracking my food intake consistently. Sort of informally trying to eat "healthier."

Oh -- and I added yoga to the mix, as well. There's a nice little studio about a mile-and-a-half from our house. They have a 9:45 am Saturday class which suits me just fine. It's a workout -- I definitely feel it in my muscles the next day -- but it's not overly strenuous. The teacher is great. And it's a nice opportunity to let go of external stressors and re-center. 

I stalled out in January-February. The scale was hovering consistently in the 151 range. But I kept running -- not nearly as consistently as I should be, but still trying -- and doing yoga. I even discovered that the mini-gym in my office building is an excellent place for an early morning run. There's not a soul around and the locker room/shower facilities are rather nice. I can shoot downtown at O Dark Thirty, ahead of much of the traffic, sneak in a quick run and then shower and get ready there and just pop up to my office. The trick there is remembering to pack my bag properly. It's an awkward day when you forget the curling iron or the hairspray or the vest you were planning to wear over your t-shirt.

I was feeling pretty good about the weight loss and work out routine, glacial pace notwithstanding. Then I went in for my annual physical in February and got some rather unexpected news: I'm pre-diabetic. Not terribly so -- really just over the line into what qualifies as the pre-diabetic range. (A fasting blood sugar level of 100-125 mg/dl is considered pre-diabetic. I'm hovering around 104.) There isn't really a family history of diabetes and, while I'm still a tad overweight, I've managed to get back to the "normal" side of BMI Land, even if barely. And, though I'm not running triathlons these days, I'm considerably less sedentary than in the past few years. Nevertheless, the tests don't lie.

I wasn't overly alarmed but the news troubled me enough that I decided it was time to do something more serious regarding my diet. I know several people who are big fans of the Keto Diet so I did some digging into that and quickly decided it's not for me. I'm fine with lowering my carbs some but virtually eliminating them altogether is a no-go. Plus, I know myself well enough to know that anything that's too strict or regimented is going to backfire on me. I looked into other diets and apps aimed at going "low carb."

Then I happened upon an article touting the Mediterranean Diet. I learned about the Oldways 4 Week Book and was intrigued enough to shell out the $14 or $15 it cost.  

The book's intro describes it best:

The Mediterranean Diet is not a diet, as in "go on a diet," even though it's a great way to lose weight and improve your health. Rather, it's a lifestyle, based upon the traditional foods (and drinks) of the countries that surround the Mediterranean Sea.

....

The Mediterranean Diet is all about cooking and eating simple, wholesome, minimally-processed foods, being active, enjoying delicious meals with friends and family, and (if you choose) drinking wine in moderation with those meals.

Did they say "wine"? Sign me up! (Yes, yes, they also said: "in moderation.")  

Upon receiving the book, I quickly read through the introductory pages, made my (lengthy and full of unfamiliar items like "farro" and "bulgur" and "dried lentils" -- okay, none of those sound particularly appetizing, I realize, but bear with me) grocery list, and stocked up as instructed. I began reviewing the recipes and mapping out my prep schedule. I knew going in there was no way I'd stick to a rigid meal plan but I aimed to follow along as closely as I could. That lasted for about four or five days. 

BUT...since then, I've continued to slowly make my way through the recipes and, in the process, developed eating habits that incorporate generous amounts of fruits, veggies, and less-processed food items. And olives. Lots of olives and olive oil. (Which is a bonus for me -- I happen to love olives. I tried to entice David into joining in on this with me but olives are a dealbreaker for him.) 

I got somewhat lazy with the running just as I was getting going with the diet. To my surprise, though, I actually dropped several more pounds. I dipped all the way down to 145.9 at the end of March but then bounced back up to 148-149. 

I've gotten back to the running again the past couple weeks. And since it's warming up and getting lighter earlier, have started running outside again. Which is so much more challenging than the treadmill. I'm still struggling to make it a mile without having to take a walk break. And my pace is back down (or up?) around the 11:30 minute mark. But I'm chugging along. (Or "chogging," as my Dad used to call it.) 

Today marks one year to the day since I got my new scale and began tracking my weight. When I got on the scale this morning, it read 148.4. That's 17.8 pounds below my high mark. Which means I averaged 1.5 pounds of weight loss per month. 

Clearly, I'm not setting any records. But you know what? I don't need to be. I'm 50. And I'm just fine.