A Crazy Goal Realized

After a week spent on the couch, recovering from the Swine Flu, I was getting more than a little nervous about the Lake Travis Relay. I felt better, but the funny thing about the flu was how sneakily it sapped me of all my energy. I was terrified that I'd feel great, jump in the water and be a piece of driftwood after a dozen strokes.

Luckily, I was able to get in a few good swims with teammates Crystal and Tach at the new Sammons Park Indoor Pool. These workouts brought me joy on a number of levels. First, I had not yet gotten a chance to swim in the new pool since the Temple Parks & Leisure Services Department dedicated it a few months ago. Let me say, if you haven't given the new facility a try yet, I highly recommend that you do. It is really, really nice. Second, I was able to go healthy distances at a good level of intensity without fatiguing. Finally, this was the first time I had gotten to swim with Tach. Tach is a radiologist at Scott & White who had only been swimming for about a month. Yeah, you read that right. The dude had been swimming FOR A MONTH, and he was committed to swimming in a swim marathon. Obviously that dude is bananas, B-A-N-A-N-A-S. Still, swimming in the lane next to him, I would have never guessed he was such a novice. His form was surprisingly good, and, more importantly, he was going several hundred yards at a stretch without huffing and puffing. Suddenly, I was feeling confident that our team might actually finish this thing in one piece.

The night of the race, I went to the captains meeting. This year's race was much smaller than previous ones. There were only 9 teams competing, down from 30 or 40. Still, we knew we weren't looking to win.

The morning of the race, we met at the dock and picked up our pontoon boat at about 6:30. The temperature outside was in the fifties. Luckily, I thought I was prepared. I'd brought multiple layers of hoodies and sweatshirts. I also had about 7 different towels. Unfortunately, though, none of that was enough.

We had to ride the boat for over an hour to the start at Mansfield Dam. My cousin Wesley, our ringer, was tasked with swimming the first 20 minute leg. I have never felt sorrier for someone that I did for him when he jumped into that cold water. You'd have never known he was uncomfortable, though, as he swam that first leg really, really well. I had expected to be in the back of the pack early on. Instead we were ahead of a few teams when my turn came up.

The rules of the relay stipulate that swimmers must tag one another out, so as Wes's leg came to a close, I steeled myself, jumped into the chilly water and swam out to meet him. All I could think of was how cold I felt. It took several seconds for me to warm up, and then I had to remember that I was here to swim fast. I did my best to turn it on, but all at once I was learning how swimming in open water is harder than swimming in a pool. As I turned my head to get a breath, a wave would bounce me up and down. Getting my wind was much more difficult that I imagined. It took all my focus just to keep moving forward.

That's the other way that swimming in the lake differed from the comfort of the pool. It turns out, I like lane lines. I enjoy seeing that line at the bottom of the pool. In all the years that I have swum laps, I have, not once, gotten lost or found myself swimming into the corner of the pool. My first leg, though, I found myself really struggling to go straight. I'd pull my head up occasionally, and get a look at another team up ahead. I'd use them as my lighthouse, but I needed to get my bearings a couple times a minute. The last thing I wanted to do was waste time and energy swimming off course.

Another way in which I missed the comfort of the pool was that I didn't have any idea how far I'd gone or how much time I had left. In the pool, I'm hitting a wall every few seconds. I know I've just gone another 25 yards, and, my extension, I know that I've probably swum another 20 or 30 seconds. In the lake, I had no concept of my distance, and when I heard my team call out, "Ten more minutes," I was shocked. I was only half way through my leg! WTF! I felt like I had been going for 20 already.

Luckily, I was able to stay mostly on course and finish up my leg. At the end of the twenty minutes, Crystal swam out and tagged herself into the race. After Crystal it was Russell's turn, followed by my dad and Tach the rookie.

Going into the race, I grossly underestimated how the open-water would affect our time. I had calculated all of our times and figured that we would be out of the water in about 6 hours and 15 minutes. That was not realistic in the least. In reality, the 12.1 mile course took us 6 hours and 58 minutes. This time might seem insignificant, but it isn't. You see, at 7 hours, our team would have been disqualified. This means that my team, my awesome team, swam its first open-water marathon, and finished fair and square.

To celebrate, we each enjoyed some beverages and fajitas at the finish line. We were cold and wet, but we were victorious!

That night we all went out together for dinner and, to my great shock, found ourselves talking about "next year." Sure enough, while there were moments of great discomfort, I am so happy that we did this, and I think I really might be up for doing it again. Hopefully next year the sun will shine.

Weekly Weighin: There & Back Again

First of all, if you got the reference in the title of this post, I owe you one hug. Now that we have that out of the way, on with the morning's blog. It's Friday, and I'm posting in the morning, so you know I must be happy with the results of the morning's weighin.

Last week was the first time I've gained weight since I started this journey. Suffed to say, I was mildly displeased. This week, I really cranked up my diet (less than 1,600 net calories every day). I also got in two good swims at the Belton High School pool and a pretty good living room workout yesterday morning.

All that to say that I was confident I'd lost weight this week, but I wasn't sure how much. All I wanted was to weigh less than I did two weeks ago. I figured that would go a long way to erasing the shame of last week's gain. Stepping atop this scale this morning, fingers cross, muttering to myself: less than 99.8...less than 99.8...less than 99.8...

Sure enough, the kind little robot registered my new weight as being 99.4. That means that I lost all the weight I gained last week plus an extra 0.4 pounds.

My goal for this week? I want to lose enough weight that even if I gain weight again the week after, I'll stay below the 200 mark. I call it Ambitious Mediocrity.

Weekly Weighin: Relapse!

So... I weighed in Friday morning. I haven't posted the results yet. If you guessed that the results didn't have me sprinting to a keyboard, you guessed right. For the first time since I began this journey in May, I stepped aboard the scale and saw a number from my past. Sure enough, I gained weight, and it sucked.

After a 45 minute workout at the Summit that didn't include swimming, I stepped on the scale, stepped off, stepped back on again, got off, removed my shoes, stepped back on, and felt the joy drain from my heart. Last week I dropped below 200 pounds for the first time since high school. At that time, I said, "All I can think about right now is that after years in the 200's, I will not be going back. Yeah, baby!" Well, seven days later the scale read 202.4, making me not just fat, but a fat liar.
The funny thing is, I was so sure I was going to have gained weight last week, but I was unprepared for it to be the case this time around. In retrospect, I don't know how I didn't expect it. Thanks to the closing of the Summit pool and my brilliant M-W-F incident, I only got in one swim last week. While I went on a lot of runs with my dog, none of them really constituted aerobic exercise (we haven't gone much more than a mile.).

On top of all that, my diet was not what it should have been. I'd be great for the first two-thirds of the day. Then, I'd get home for dinner and eat big helpings of delicious (not healthy) food. I even had desert a few nights. On what planet could I have thought that would result in weight loss?

Sufficed to say, this just got real. I might have thought it was real before, but I was mistaken. As of Friday, I was three pounds heavier than the week before. I have four days to lose those pounds, and that's what I'm going to do.

M-W-F? More like W-T...

Last night I was pretty sure I knew what I'd be blogging about this morning, my first trip to the Belton High School pool. I was right...sort of.

One of the reasons I had decided to give the Belton pool a try was that it was open from 5:30 to 7 for sunrise swim. That meant I could go super early, get a longer swim in than I had been at the Summit and still be home to help Tara out with baby Sydney. With that in mind, I set my alarm this morning for 5 a.m. so that I could get there as close to the pool's opening as possible.

If you are someone you regularly gets up up at 5 a.m., and you are not a vampire, I want to hug you. You must need hugs. It has to be a lonely existence. You know you was out walking the streets at 5 this morning? Serial killers. I can't prove that. I didn't see them killing anyone, but I can only assume they were up early, getting a jump on stalking their prey.

Myself, I'm not sure my level of consciousness would actually meet the medical definition of "awake." It was more of a mobile coma, really. Honest to Pete, when my alarm first went off, I turn on the TV trying to figure out how to shut it up. My wife, she was a big fan of that. Big fan.

Somehow, lurching around the quiet house like Frankenstein's monster, I managed to put on my swim suit and clothes, grab a pair of sandals, and get myself into the car. I followed the directions on my phone to Belton High School, and I got out, ready to roll.

If you've never seen it before, the Belton High School pool is gorgeous. It looks really beautiful...through its glass doors. That's as close as I got. You see, the sheet with the pools hours was posted outside the facility. I had seen the sheet online yesterday as I made my plans. What I somehow failed to see next to the sunrise swimming hours were three of the most damning letters in the alphabet, "M-W-F."
That's right, I got my not-so-perky butt out of bed early this morning, only to learn that the pool I was supposed to be swimming in wasn't open this morning. If there was any caloric burn to match the scalding self-loathing I felt in that moment, I probably would have been able to watch my waist shrink before my eyes. I drove the whole way home floating in the stink of my own stupidity.

I was in a pretty bad mood when I got home at 6 (20-30 minutes before I had planned to be getting out of the water). In that moment, I knew the only thing that would cheer me up was to spend time with my loved ones. Of course, my beautiful wife and baby were way to smart to be awake at that hour, so I settled for the next best thing, our big orange dork of a dog, Sulley.

So it was that this morning, instead of getting in a good swim, I slipped on my super-ugly-but-awesomely-comfy-calf-amplifying shoes, and took my dog for a morning run. At least he was happy about the way the morning had gone.

Goodbye, Summit Pool

This morning I got to the Summit, ready to swim, only to be reminded that as of this morning the pool was no longer open to lap swimming. There is good reason for the closure, but I was still very grateful when a little luck allowed me to get in one last swim.

I had read this last week in the Summit's electronic newsletter. If you are a Summit member or just someone considering membership, I highly recommend subscribing by emailing Summit General Manager Ron Germann. Of course, I read the newsletter and promptly forgot about the pool schedule, so I didn't have anyone to blame this morning but myself.

The Summit is having to close the pool this week because as school starts up, the life guarding staff dwindles and disappears. Without guards, the pool can't operate. There is still recreational swimming for the remainder of this week, but lap swimming hours are no more.

Once I got myself changed into my workout clothes and started a set of lat pulls, Karen from the front desk found me and let me know that the regular lifeguard had come in just in case. It turned out I could get in a swim after all!

It was a bit sad, honestly. The whole swim felt like a bit of a breakup. This was the pool in which I had rediscovered my love for swimming. Without this pool I would not be training for the Lake Travis Relay. I'm really glad that I found the Summit's pool this summer, and I'm looking forward to next year's season already.

Of course, this leaves me without and obvious place to train for the relay in October. As I see it, I could swim in the Temple High School pool, but I believe it's only open at lunch, which would mean sacrificing my lunch breaks with Tara. I could also utilize the Temple Parks & Leisure Services Department's new Sammons Park Indoor Pool, but I don't know how many dedicated lanes they offer during the pool's open/lap swim times. I've also been told that the Belton Master Swim team trains three mornings a week and two afternoons. That's a lot of potential butt-kicking, but I am unsure of the price.

I have to figure it out pretty quickly, and I'll let you know how it goes.

Of Silence and Laziness

It's come to my attention that I have a bit of a tell. I haven't been blogging very actively in the last week, and I know it's because I am not proud of my workout regiment during that time.

I've only been getting in two swims a week, and I know that the garage workouts I've been doing aren't really doing much for me. In fact, I think I may have done more damage than good. My Men's Health Gym Bible has an exercise called a Romanian Deadlift. It turns out, if your going to do an exercise with the word "dead" in the title, you should really try and get it right.
It turns out that whole "lift with your legs, not with your back," thing isn't a joke. My back has been telling me so for the last few days. Being sore doesn't exactly help you get motivated to work out, either. All it's motivated me to do lately is wrap a heating pad around me like some kind of thermal girdle. Sorry, ladies, I'm taken.

On top of everything else, my diet has been...not great. All this time I've been patting myself on the back for my newly discovered portion control. Well, this weekend my beautiful wife made chocolate cookies from scratch. It turns out, portion control isn't binary. It comes in shades. As fate would have it, I am still very much a white belt. Though, I'm not sure a black belt could have walked away from those cookies.

I'm trying to get myself back on track this week. To that end I swam 3,000 yards this morning. It took just under 50 minutes. I think the last time I swam that far I had a driver's permit.

Weekly Weighin: Half-way Healthy

Is it just me, or has this been an impossibly long week. I've done a better job of getting in workouts. I used the weight bench in my garage Tuesday and Thursday mornings. Wednesday and this morning, I went for some long swims at the Summit. Since Monday, I've been really good about my diet (last weekend...not so much). All that to say, I didn't know what to expect when I stepped aboard the Summit's scale after my workout.


Tired and a little dehydrated (drinking water means gaining weight) I stepped onto the dreaded apparatus. It flitted about between decimal points and landed at 208 pounds and a few decimals (Do those even matter? This isn't trigonometry.)This represents a total weight loss of about 21 up to this point.

I'm happy with the loss. I really am, but part of me can't help but feel a little impatient, knowing that I am still 21 pounds away from a healthy BMI. That means I'm half-way there. At this rate, it may be the end of the year before I get there.

Of course, all that matters is that right now I'm heading in the right direction.

Dehydrated Water

This morning I went to the Summit Family Fitness Center with the the intent to really push myself. I ended up swimming farther than I have in years...by 50 yards (I swam 2,550 total). The only problem with this extra effort is that I did not call on it in conjunction with extra fuel. While I had my water bottle poolside, I didn't drink from it until I got out of the water...this was, apparently, a mistake.

It seems like a real paradox that I could have been suspended in liquid for 45 minutes and emerge dehydrated, but that's what happened. I got out of the pool feeling more like I was breaking out of a steam room whose door had been jammed for a few hours. I felt sick to my stomach and a little weak in the legs. Making my way to the locker room, I think I must have been a little green because upon entering the room, one of the Summit's personal trainers shot me a concerned look.

"You okay, man?" he asked.

You know what's fun? Telling a guy who's built like an armored car that your stomach is queasy from the morning swim. He's sure to understand that, right? Surely, he's over-exerted himself before...tossing suburbans around the parking lot.

"I'm good," I assured him, but as soon as he left the room I found myself crouching down and gulping down water.

At this juncture, I would like to nominate whoever put the oscillating fans in the locker room for sainthood. What's the proper process with that, anyway? Is there a form I can email the Vatican?

I must have been a really impressive specimen, crouched before the big fan, drinking water and breathing heavily. Watch out, ladies, I'm taken!

The lesson here is pretty easy. If you're working out, be it in the Sahara or the pool, drink water. Being dehydrated stinks, and I can't imagine anyone looking attractive while vomiting in a Speedo.

First Quarter Recap

Today marks three full months of my fitness journey. I've come a long way since that first workout in May. I've lost 20 pounds and swum as many miles.

Three months from now I plan to be a middleweight (between 171 and 185 pounds). I will have been a part of a team that successfully finished the Lake Travis Relay (hopefully before the sun goes down).

It's easy to tell you what area of my routine has been the weakest. In the last three months, I have gone to the gym and worked out only once on a weekend. Moving forward I need to do something to keep myself working even when I'm not going in to the office.

Another area in which I plan to improve is weight training. For a while there I was being good about pumping the iron (even if it was in my living room). Lately, I get to the Summit just in time for lap swimming. Swimming is great, but it can't be my entire fitness regiment. I know my body craves more diversity than that.

Maybe I should set some new goals for myself come October. I could double the number of push ups and pull ups I can do (that would mean doing two). I'd also like to be able to bench press my own weight (I'm making the feat less fantastic as I slim down).

Weekly Weighin: Closing in on milestones

It's Friday, which means that this morning I dragged myself out of bed and headed over to the Summit Family Fitness Center to workout and weigh myself in. This is my 13th weigh in since I began this journey back in May, and I'm closing in on a few milestones.

After a quick 2,050 swim, I again made use of the Summit's new family changing rooms and their awesome swimsuit dryers. Dried off and full of dread, I made my way over to the scale. After the pain of the plateau I hit earlier this month, I was happy to see my new weight was 202 pounds. That's just one pound lighter than last week, but I'm grateful for it.

I'm one pound away from having lost 20 pounds total. I'm only three pounds from dropping below the 200 pound threshold for the first time since freshman year of college. That would also mean I'd love 10% of my initial body weight. I'm looking forward to hitting those goals over the next couple weeks.

Spin Dry

Thoreau said that, "He is riches whose pleasures are cheapest." Well, consider me rich because I often get a pick kick out of the little things. This morning the object of my joy was a dry swimsuit.


The only downside to these morning swim workouts is that for the rest of the day I have either store a wet swimsuit (Mildew Welcome!) or hang it up to dry in my office. The first option is just gross. I usually choose the second option, though it gives my office that locker room chic.


Not today, though. This morning I had the great pleasure of checking out one of the Summit's new family changing rooms. They are very nice inside. They have restrooms, changing tables, a shower...and an automated swimsuit dryer. Say what? That's right, this magic little machine requires less than a minute to take my sopping suit and make it dry. No more worrying about my suit or my gym bag all day.

It may seem small, but it sure did make me smile. Plus, while I'm sure the rooms are busy during peak pool hours, they are completely free in the morning.

I don't know squat!

Last week felt good. I finally posted some weight loss after a few weeks atop the plateau, and I noticed I'd gotten too small for a couple of my belts. What a great feeling! This week I have a different feeling...and it is not a pleasant one. I'm one sore dude.

Yesterday rather than go to the Summit, I did another living room workout. Once again I plugged in the Wii and asked it to do its worst. The resulting workout lasted about 20 minutes and left me feeling thoroughly abused. How could that tiny machine pack so much pain into 20 short minutes? One word: squats.

I hate squats. I hate lunges. I hate squat jumps. I hate alternating lunges. I hate any exercise that engages whatever theoretical muscles called on by any of the the aforementioned activities. Two seconds into a set of squats I feel like the Tin Man in those terrifying last moments before he rusted over. "Oil can," my soul cries out, but there's no one there to hear me.

I don't know why I have such trouble with squats and lunges. In theory I know that I have the requisite muscles, but in practice they never seem to be home when I call on them. Honestly, I look at my four-month-old daughter as she pops up and down in our arms, and I know with certainty that she has stronger quads than me. I'm not even talking about stronger in proportion to her size, either. I'm saying that right now today she could squat more weight than me. The little punk probably wouldn't even need a spotter. I love her dearly, but she may be dangerous.

All this to say that my legs were trembling all day yesterday. This morning I woke up to find that the jello had not solidified and I was still walking on spaghetti noodles. I was extremely nervous about how well I'd hold up for the morning swim.

I hit the water, though, and was quickly reminded why I love swimming. My tired legs got a break for 45 minutes while the rest of my body got a good workout from my 2,300 yard swim. I think I'm starting to see why I never developed the muscles require to do squats.

Back out of the pool, though, I'm hurting. I limp around my office like Forrest Gump before Jenny told him to run. My thighs and posterior feel like they've been through a violent caning session. If this is what being fit feels like...what's the point?

Ambition Should Be Made of Sterner Suff

As part of my workout this morning, I decided to time myself swimming a mile (roughly 1800 yards in the pool or 36 laps). Of course, being a master excuse maker, after 1,000, I thought about checking the clock. After 1,500, I reminded myself that I'd gone a "swimmer's mile," and tried to convince myself to stop. Fortunately, I was able to ignore my inner lazy-butt, and finish the mile I'd set out to swim. It took me a little over 27 minutes, which means that I was averaging more than 45 seconds per lap.

The thing about long distance swims is that they offer you plenty of time to think. It's just you and two white walls in there. During this morning's swim I was doing some math in my head. I've stated before that by the time of the big race, I'd like to be swimming a mile in 20 minutes. This morning I realized that my goal might be a little too ambitious. After all, if I can get each of my 50's down to a clean 45 second average, that would still only take me 1,333, yards in 20 minutes. In order to swim a mile in 20 minutes, I would have to cut my average time per lap down to just 34 seconds. Now, I can do a 34 second lap. In fact, I can probably do several of them. I truly doubt, however, that I could do 36 of them consecutively.

My new goal is to cut my average time per lap down to 40 seconds. That's a pretty significant improvement over my current speed, and it would allow me to finish a "swimmer's mile" (1,500) in 20 minutes.

I really hate the idea of backing down from a goal, but I also do not want to be setting myself up for frustration later. I hope that I’m striking a good balance between setting goals that are ambitious and goals that are attainable. After all, if after training my butt off for the next three months I am punching out my 50 yard laps in 34 seconds, how psyched will I be!

On Like Donkey Kong!!!

It seems like a million years ago that Russell first brought up the idea of doing the Lake Travis Relay. At the time it seemed like science fiction. As of this weekend, it's officially on like Donkey Kong.

After a few communication glitches, I was finally able to talk to my cousin Wesley about the swim. It still surprises me every time I see Wesley that he's not still 9 years old, but he has grown up to become a genuinely awesome guy. He's a student at the University of Texas (my own private Mecca), and this summer he is making money... (Wait for it) TEACHING SWIM LESSONS! What's more, On top of having swum for his high school team (a lot more recently than me); Wesley has participated in multiple open-water triathlon swims. Can you spell "ringer."

Wesley makes number six in our dirty half dozen. Other members include Russell and Crystal (cardio workhorses and survivors of some crazy long bike races), Russell's brother (who Russell describes as being "a real athlete"), my dad (the only member of the team currently swimming multiple 2,500 yard swims each week) and myself (lazy, overweight former high school swimmer turned self deprecating blogger). Now that's what I call a ragtag crew!

Now that it is on like Donkey Kong, the relay (October 10th) feels a lot sooner. Friday it was three whole months away. Now it's just 87 days away!

Over the next 87 days, I've got a lot of work to do. I would like to lose another 20+ pounds, and I'd like to speed up my time so that I can average 3 miles an hour. We'll see how all that goes.

Weekly Weighin: Are you kidding me?

It's Friday, and that means stepping onto the Summit scale for the first time in a week. I don't mind telling you that this is the first week that I haven't felt dread over the proposition. Between last week's zero lose and the fact that I really brought it this week, I knew I was in for a big number. Of course, I was wrong.

Last week I was frustrated by not having lost more weight, but I knew I could only blame myself. I hadn't put in the time at the gym (just two real workouts), and my diet was far from a priority. Bouncing back from that experience, I worked my butt off this week (unfortunately, not literally). Monday and Tuesday I got up early and worked out to the Biggest Loser Weight Loss Yoga (it may sound funny but it's not...it's torture). Then, for the first time in about twelve years, I put in three consecutive swim workouts Wednesday, Thursday and this morning. What's more, these weren't wimpy swims. I wasn't just floating for 40 minutes. I was really pushing. I did a number of sprints as part of interval training, and I timed myself on longer distances.

Approaching that scale this morning I felt great. I felt deserving. Then I stepped aboard...and I felt like I'd been kicked in the pants. I lost weight, but it was definitely in decimal form. For the last two weeks I'd weighed in at 206.8 pounds. This morning, the scale read 206.2. For those of you whose calculators don't have room for a decimal (and who didn't excel in middle school math), that means I've only lost one half of a pound in the last week. HALF A POUND!

This puts my weight loss to date at 15 pounds after 10 weeks of working out. I know I should be focusing on that 15, but I can't help but feel the 10 in marrow of my bones.

How does that happen? I worked out. I watch my calories like they were invading enemy forces. I did all the things I was supposed to do. I feel like I got gypped. I know, I know, I should be grateful that I lost something or that I didn't gain weight. I'm not grateful, though, I'm frustrated. How am I supposed to get my lazy butt out of bed at 5:45 to workout, when it hasn't really paid off recently? Wouldn't it just be easier to stay fat and just hang out with my wife and baby?

Don't worry. I haven't given up. I'll be back to work this week. I just hope that next Friday the scale is a little friendlier.

LivingStrong, EatingStrong

So, I've never claimed to be an especially bright guy, but today I made a discovery that really had me slapping myself over the forehead.

At the suggestion of fellow Fit to Tell blogger, Cora, I've been using LiveStrong.com's My Plate for a few weeks now, and only today did I figure out how its suggested calorie feature really works. You see, once you create a free account on the site, you can input your age, height and current weight. Then, given your usual activity level and weight loss goals, the site calculates a suggested daily calorie limit. For instance, I'm 27 years old, I'm about 5 feet, 11 inches tall, and I currently weigh 206 pounds. I'd like to be losing 3 pounds a week (I realize this is a little ambitious, but last week was a real kick in the pants for me.), and I'd describe my daily activity level as being moderately active. With this in mind, LiveStrong suggests that I try and get 1,596 calories a day...not to be too specific.

The thing is, the My Plate tool also lets you track your workouts. I've been inputting my daily workouts this whole time. What I never realized until this morning, though, is that by working out, you increase the number of calories you're allowed to consume. For example, today I swam 2000 yards in about 45 minutes. The system gives me credit for burning 927 calories along the way. That means that today I'm allowed to consume 2,523 calories. That's about 900 more calories that I have been consuming in weeks past. That's a lot!

Hopefully making this discovery will help me to better fuel my body and keep my metabolism turning on the days when I work out. I hope that all translates into some weight loss this week.

Weekly Weighin: A few days late

Friday was both a holiday from work and my fifth anniversary (You hear that, Middle School Bully, I've been married to a totally hot lady for five years!), but I still dragged my over-sized butt to the Summit. After all, I've got an embarrassing web journal to keep.

I hopped in the pool and, after a quick warm up, decided to time myself on a 1000 yards. Once again I used the 300 on - 50 or 100 easy method, focusing on a steady pace. My time was just over 14 minutes. Assuming I could keep that pace, which I think I can, I'm on track for a 25 minute mile. I'd really like to be closer to 20 minutes for the relay, but there's still time.

After my swim, as is the painful custom of this blog, I stepped aboard the Summit's scale...and did not smile. I really wanted to be under 205 pounds. That would have made me an official light heavyweight as opposed to my current heavyweight status. Alas, it was not meant to be this week. The scale read 206 pounds, the same as last week. That's zero pounds lost. Here are some possible explanations:

1.) Clearly the scale is broken (This is not the case. It started at zero and didn't move until I stepped on it.)

2.) Surely I've just swapped muscle for fat, and one of those weighs more. (I don't feel all that much stronger.)

3.) Maybe I was still wet with pounds of water from the pool. (No can do. I towelled off with the scale in mind.)

4.) Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I only got in two good workouts (I did a measly 20 minutes of aerobics Thursday.) all week and I wasn't paying vigilant attention to my calories.

That last explanation has the painful burning sensation of truth. I got complacent last week. I think I was so accustomed to seeing the weight drop that I forgot how I had gotten it moving in the first place. This week I'm on it. I'm going hardcore, and the scale is going to reflect it come Friday morning.

Yes 2K

So, after yesterday's failure, I attacked the lane with some extra motivation. Rather than repeat Friday's 300 yards on thirty second break approach, this morning I decided to swim 300 yards at a faster pace, followed by 50 or 100 yards slow. I did this for 1,000 yards and took a minute break. Then I did it all again. My first 1,000 took about 16 minutes; my second, took about 18. After last week's not quite 2K, I did a very easy 200 yard cool down to make the entire workout an official 2.01168 kilometers.

The workout took me about 45 minutes, and I got out feeling really good. By the time of the Lake Travis Relay, I'd love to be able to swim a mile in 20 minutes. That's ambitious, but totally doable, especially given lots of time to recover after my shifts.

Looking over my notes, I find that in the three weeks since I started lap swimming again, I've swum 11,500 yards or roughly six and a half miles. That's farther than my drive to work. Which means, if Al Gore and Kevin Costner are right, and global warming leads to the melting of all the polar ice caps, and the world becomes completely covered in water, I would be able to swim to work...over the course of three weeks. I better call the boss and tell him I'll be late.

In summary, working out feel good. Instead of guilt, I feel pride. Instead of feeling lazy, I feel like I'm training again. For now, I don't even feel that sore.

Weekly Weighin: 06/26/09

Well, it's Friday and that means another dreaded trip to the Summit's scale. By my count this is my ninth time aboard the scale since I started this journey, my eighth since I began working out regularly.

This week my diet has been good, but between a busy work schedule and my baby daughter decided to regress a tad in her sleeping schedule (if only I could burn calories making excuses), I didn't get in the number of workouts I'd like. I had a very, very quick DVD workout Tuesday. Wednesday I swam a really easy 1500, and this morning I did my Not2K.

Sufficed to say, I was nervous, but I'm pretty happy with the results. I'm under 207 pounds now. I say "under 207" instead of "206" because there are decimals on the scale, and, truth be told, they were closer to 207 than not. Still, in fairness, last week's weigh in was a little over 208, so I can comfortably say that I lost about a pound and a half this week. This takes my overall weight loss up to 15 pounds.

By next week, I hope to no longer qualify as a heavyweight but instead be a natural light heavyweight. We'll see.

Why (not) 2K?

So during this morning's swim I decided to change things up a bit. Rather than swim a nice even pace for the duration. I broke my workout into sets of 300 yards. After each set I would rest 30 to 45 seconds. The result was surprising.

Despite the fact that I was pushing harder for each set than I normally would for one big swim, I was able to keep up my pace from 300 to 300. Each swim averaged about four and a half minutes give a take a few seconds.

By going faster, I was also able to swim much further than I normally would, even with the regular breaks. When all was said and done, I'd swum 2000 yards. That's the farthest I've gone in a long, long time. What's more, even with all of the breaks and a very slow 150 yard cool down, I still swam that 2000 in a little more than 40 minutes!

I was so proud of myself having swum what I thought was a 2K that I didn't realize until I hit the shower that it had really only been 2000 yards, which really only equals 1.8288K. Darn you metric conversion!

If only I'd had my graphing calculator poolside, I would definitely have swum the extra 187.22659667542 yards to make it official. Heck, I may even have made it an even 200...of course that would give me a 2.01168K, and that just seems sloppy. What's a fella to do?