207 – GOAL!

Now this is an entirely satisfactory number!

Four years ago, I decided I had had enough. Since meeting Katie, we had both gained somewhere around 60 pounds, and I found myself overweight, weak, and wheezing walking upstairs in our house. After having spent my whole life being skinny and eating however I wanted, I had simultaneously hit a metabolism wall, gone TDY for an extended period of time (read: beer, and a lot of it), and gotten my first of a few desk jobs. I was 225 lbs, and looked like somebody had inflated me with a pump full of jello.

Slowly, and in fits and starts at first, I started working to change that. I started lifting with some friends at work. I bought a cheap mountain bike off of Craigslist and started pedaling, at first only a few miles at a time. I brought my diet under control for the first time since High School. The following year, in 2010, I started jogging. I did a couple 5k races and got hooked on the high of the finish line, of conquering a distance I previously thought impossible.

That winter, I blew my right ACL at the gym, playing basketball with some high school kids. After surgery, I started rehab, and the challenge lit something else in me. During a session where they had me on a treadmill for the first time, one of my physical therapists started telling me the things I probably wouldn’t be doing any more, given the irreparable damage to the menisci in my knee. A voice in my head said, “oh, really?”

I finished my rehab program in half the allotted time, and started mountain biking and running more seriously. Another lengthy TDY sent me around the desert Southwest, and I used the opportunity, particularly in Southern California, to hone my skills on the bike. I fell off the wagon for awhile in Arizona, but then came back home with something to prove, and objectives to reach.

I spent all of last year learning lessons, some the hard way. I locked my diet down and cut to 195 lbs. I signed up for my first half marathon and trained all year for it, like I’ve never trained before in my life. It was hard, and I literally ran myself into injuries midway through the summer, but the personal victory of conquering the race was such a strong elixir, that I signed up for another one weeks later.

Last winter was spent recovering on doctor’s orders, brooding, scheming and reviewing lessons learned. I signed up for more races, including the Death March and more Half Marathons. I started lifting hard and heavy, determined to overcome the weaknesses that held me back on the bike and on foot last year. And I locked the diet down again, cutting the 10 pounds I had gained through the holidays and then five more, before race season started and I had to add some calories back in.

And finally, today, I reached a goal on the scale, to go along with all the goals I’ve reached on the trail, and the road, and in the weight room. I haven’t been this light since probably late 2006, and I’ve never been this strong and lean. While I’m not quite to the bodyfat percentage that I’d like to be, yet, I’m finally at a point where I feel that my weight isn’t holding me back, anywhere.

Did it take me 4 years to lose 40 lbs? That’s one way you could look at it, I suppose. I did lose 15 lbs in six weeks this year, and I’ve cut weight in a short amount of time before. But for me, the long view is more important, and maintaining the overall trend over time is what will count when I’m 60. The trick now is to stay at it, to keep running and riding and living, so I never find myself where I was in 2009, again.