Tag: Health

Cool, Daily Life, Health

A Slave To The Numbers

I said I was going to wait, but I couldn’t help myself. I bought a Fitbit. I went with just the basic wrist one. The only thing I’m interested in is the heart rate monitor. We’re on day three of wearing it full-time and I’m getting obsessed with checking on my heart rate.

Overall, I’m pleased with my resting heart rate. Averaging 55 bpm. Higher than it was when I was running, but I’m ok with that for now. The purpose of the monitor was so that I can ensure that I’m in zone 2 when walking/running to maximize building an aerobic base. Today was the first chance I had to see what happens while out on my power walk. Turns out, I can’t get into zone 2!

While walking (on flat ground) as fast as I can go without breaking into a jog, my heart rate hovered around 110-115. Based upon the various calculators I found, zone 2 for me should be 120-130 bpm. As soon as I started an extremely slow jog… my heart rate went to 135-140. It didn’t make any difference what I did – I couldn’t get to that 120-130 zone. I was always below or above.

Has anyone else experienced this? I’m not sure what to do. Would I be better off continuing with the fast power walk that’s below, or the extremely slow jog that’s too high? I consulted Dr. Google, but no luck. We’ll see what the heart rate trend is over the next few days.

While the original purpose of the Fitbit was so that I can monitor my heart rate, it has a bunch of other features that I had no interest in. That is, until I discovered the sleep tracking. I’ve had two nights with it now, and I’m amazed at how accurate it is. Both nights it pegged the time I went to bed and woke within +/- 5 minutes or so. How in the world does it know? Technology is amazing.

But now, I have a whole new set of numbers and stats to obsess over. My sleep scores are terrible. Heart rate and Sp02 are fine, but everything else is awful. I thought I was a good sleeper, but apparently not. I was not aware of something called the heart rate variability score. This is supposed to be an indicator of fitness. You want a larger (greater) variability in your heart rate. Meaning, while keeping the same total number of beats per minute, the time between each beat should vary. Mine the last two nights has been low. As in, bottom percentile for my age low. I guess I’m basically a metronome. I was perfectly happy with my sleep habits before, but now I’m going to worry each night about what the metrics are going to show in the morning.

It is now officially my mission to improve that number. I have no idea how, but I’m going to do it. I can see it already… six months from now I’ll be sleeping in a separate room that is specially climate controlled, sound deadened, and has all the electrical circuits shut off to remove any EMF messing with my circadian rhythm.

Maybe I shouldn’t have bought that Fitbit after all…

Cool, Diet, Health

Take This One Supplement

It’s funny how us humans seem to be predisposed to fall for the “one magic pill” syndrome. You know, the “eat this one food to lower your blood pressure” or “do this one exercise if you want tight abdominal muscles” sort of articles. I’m just as big a sucker as anyone else, even though I pride myself on being skeptical of… well, everything.

For example, just the other day I’d watched a podcast that talked about the importance of Zone 2 training. That’s the sweet spot for fat burning and building an aerobic base. Roughly 75% of your max heart rate. I’d forgotten I’d read an entire book on the subject at one time – “Training for the Uphill Athlete“. I immediately went out an did a fast power walk in the hills. I kept my pace to mostly just below starting to breathe heavily. I felt great when I was done and vowed to ensure I’m getting a minimum of three days a week of this type of exercise.

Me, being me, I immediately blew an hour researching heart rate monitors. Which are more accurate, chest straps or wrist/optical sensors? Should I just get a cheap Fitbit, or bite the bullet and get a dedicated running watch like the Garmin or Coros? After all, if I’m going to embrace the Zone 2 training I have to have a way to see what my actual heart rate is. Don’t I?

And then I came to my senses. At my level of conditioning, whether my heart rate is +/- 10 beats from whatever 75% of my max heart rate is will make zero difference. My conditioning is so far from what it was when I was running, anything I do is a benefit. An hour of effort at just below heavy breathing is close enough. When I’ve dropped weight and my cardio is sufficient to slow jog without breathing hard – then I’ll think about figuring out what my actual heart rate is.

I do this all the time to myself. I’ll see a YouTube video about some piece of exercise equipment and suddenly I have to have it. Meanwhile I don’t have the strength to do just basic bodyweight stuff or simple lifts with kettlebells. Some specialized piece of equipment isn’t going to magically make me stronger at this point. It’s like folks who spend gobs of money on carbon fiber this or that to shave grams off of their bicycles when you can just go lose a few pounds.

If you follow guys like Joe Rogan or Jocko, they’re always pushing various supplements for improved performance, brain function, strength gains, etc… I don’t disagree with the value of many of those things, but in most cases it’s tiny incremental improvements. That might make a big difference if you’re an athlete – but not much for the average person. You’ll make a bigger difference in how you feel by dropping the extra weight, eating real food, cutting the alcohol, getting stronger, and getting a good night sleep.

When you are at 15% body fat, running a respectable 10K time, and can crank out pullups and heavy deadlifts… then small incremental things make a difference. Until then, save your money.

P.S. In researching running watches, I stumbled upon the world of sleep trackers. The Whoop strap and Oura ring. Clearly my problem all this time has been not knowing how much time I spend in each sleep cycle. If only I knew that one simple thing, my training would improve exponentially! Researching now…

Health, Motivation

All-Cause Mortality Rates

“Milk is for babies. When you grow up you have to drink beer.”

― Arnold Schwarzenegger

Have I mentioned that I hate the gym? I’ve never liked it. It’s always been something that I half-heartedly do because I know I should. Some years I’m better at it than others, but it’s never been a real habit. I’ve been more diligent the last six months because I started seeing changes in my balance and coordination. But lately I’ve been slacking off due to my reoccurring stomach issues. It’s hard to be motivated to go lift heavy stuff when your stomach is all queasy. But yesterday I watched something that (hopefully) changed my mindset forever.

I stumbled on several podcasts by Dr Peter Attia and Layne Norton. They discuss many topics, but one of them was all-cause mortality and hazard ratios – the likelihood of you dying of something. A study was done of 122,000 people with an average age of 53. The study did a Vo2 max test on the subjects and ranked them into five categories – Low, Below Average, Above Average, High, Elite. The study then correlated mortality rates to the Vo2 rankings. The results shocked me.

Just improving from the Low category to Below Average was a 50% reduction in mortality over a decade. Improve to one more category, Above Average, resulted in a nearly 70% reduction in mortality! Being in the lowest category of Vo2 max carries a higher risk of mortality than coronary artery disease, high blood pressure, and diabetes. Wow.

I’m sure I always kinda knew that having a great cardiovascular system would be a good thing as you got older. But then they followed up with a very similar look at the correlation of lean muscle mass and mortality. Past age 70, the hazard ratio of having very little lean muscle mass is greater than smoking! It turns out falls are the greatest cause of accidental death in the last decades of life. As a nurse, I can attest to this. A fall resulting in a broken hip is a near certain death sentence within 6 months to a year amongst the elderly.

So, in a nutshell being weak, fat, and having low Vo2 max is a near guarantee of an early death.

Seeing this was enough for me. I dragged my queasy-ass stomach to the gym and picked up a bunch of heavy shit for an hour. And I’m going to do it again today. And I’m going to start maximizing my Zone 2 training. One of the things that was said in the podcast is that past age 60-65 you’re realistically not going to gain muscle. The best you can hope for is to maintain what you have. So in the decade before that your goal should be to pack on as much lean muscle mass as possible.

I’ve missed out on much of that window to build muscle and strength due to general sloth and love of nachos. But it’s not too late. Every single percentage gain in lean muscle mass I can make in the next few years is an additional hedge against that hazard ratio. It finally sunk in.

Every single day of doing nothing, sitting, not moving, watching TV, gaining weight – is subtracting a day from the other end.

Think about that. Is skipping being active today because you don’t feel like it, worth dying one day earlier? I calculated out, based upon living to age 85, how many weeks I have left. About 1,600. That’s not very much when you think about it that way. It’s time to maximize those weeks to ensure I have as many as possible.

Let’s roll.

Daily Life, Health, Motivation

Facing A Challenge

Did you ever wonder how you’d manage if you faced true adversity? I always liked reading and watching inspirational stories of people struggling with seemingly insurmountable odds, battling the inner demons, and overcoming the challenge. The classic tale of the protagonist who suffers a terrible woodchipper accident. The montage of scenes showing the struggle of learning to walk again. Fighting a corrupt system that won’t give him the fancy new titanium prosthetic legs. The triumphant comeback to kick the winning field goal in the Super Bowl. Who doesn’t love a feel-good story like that?

How do you think you’d do in that situation? Would you be the hero or would you end up in a wheelchair, addicted to opiates, and yelling at all the nurses in your skilled nursing facility? I don’t know why, but I think about that. Knock on wood, I’ve never faced true adversity, so I don’t know how I’d react. But lately, I’m not sure I’d be the hero.

Health-wise, I’ve been pretty damn lucky. Not through any skill or effort on my part – just dumb luck and good genes. I’ve never really been injured. I didn’t seriously “exercise” when I was younger but managed to stay active enough to remain functional over the years. My weight and fitness fluctuated over time, but never horribly. Blood pressure, blood work, and general health markers have always been good. It’s rare that I get sick. I’ve been pretty fortunate. Until this last year.

I’m not sure what happened. Suddenly my weight ballooned up. Normally I’ve been able to tweak the diet, ride the bike a bit more and I’d be back to normal. It hasn’t worked this time. My balance and fitness level noticeably declined. Then I hurt my back this summer. That was a wake-up call. If you’ve been reading this blog for any time, you’ll know that I hired a trainer and worked hard to rehab. That’s gone great, and the back is stronger than it was before. So semi-protagonist-hero-mode. But it definitely made me grumpy being injured. I never thought I was a complainer, but that side of me suddenly appeared.

And now… I’ve been hit with a new health challenge. It’s been creeping up for a while and finally hit with a vengeance. Last week, for the first time, I had to pass on skiing with friends and hiking the dog. Several days were spent curled up on the couch, feeling sorry for myself. We’re still working through the process, but most likely we’re looking at some permanent lifestyle changes. In the long run it will probably be for the best anyway. But at the moment, it kind of sucks.

I’m left asking myself, how will I manage this pseudo-adversity? I haven’t done terribly well so far. Mrs Troutdog has been super supportive, but I know I’ve been quiet and grumpy. I thought I’d be the person that would be chipper and positive every day as we work through things, but I’ve trended more towards frustration and slightly depressed. So much for the hero protagonist.

In the grand scheme of things, this won’t stack up to be that big of a deal. Certainly not compared to woodchipper accidents. But I’ll admit, I was caught off-guard at how hard mentally it can be to deal with a slightly negative situation. I was sure I’d morph into hero mode when faced with making some minor changes. Instead, I sat on the couch for a week. I can’t imagine the strength it takes for people who face down truly serious adverse scenarios.

There’s a quote I like – “Life gives you what you settle for”. I can take something that ultimately will end up being a minor annoyance and turn it into a healthier lifestyle, or I can resent it and use it as an excuse not to do things.

I choose the former.

Daily Life

Whiteout Conditions

I went skiing the other day with some friends. A typical day, although a bit foggy when we rolled into the parking lot. We pulled on our gear and trudged across the icy parking lot to the lifts. I stretched a bit and tried to loosen up before our first run. As we clicked into our ski bindings, the fog suddenly went from 4/10 visibility to 0/10 visibility. As in, we could barely see the lift ten feet away. No matter, we are hearty soldiers and got on the chairlift anyway.

As the lift climbed the mountain, visibility remained poor. But we held out hope – it’s not uncommon in our area to have the fog/cloud layer dissipate at the summit. Alas, it was not to be. The summit was socked in with thick pea soup fog. We slowly made our way to the first run we could find, just to get down the mountain. Skiing in zero visibility is weird. It’s not uncommon to get a bit of vertigo, as your brain wrestles with slopes and angles without any visual clues.

We stopped about halfway down the run and just looked at each other. One of the guys proclaimed, “This sucks. I’m going to the lodge and getting a beer.” So down we went, carefully picking our way through moguls we couldn’t see. At the bottom, the pessimist headed straight for the lodge. The other optimist and I debated and decided to do one more run before calling it a day. As the chairlift carried us up, the fog started getting thinner and thinner. We looked at each other and laughed – wouldn’t it be funny if the cloud layer burned off and the pessimist missed out?

Sure enough as we neared the top the fog dissipated, and it was nothing but bright blue skies. Beautiful! We headed down a run, whooping the whole way. We stopped several times and texted and called the pessimist, telling him to get back out here. At the bottom we zoomed right back to the chairlift so we could head back up. More texts and voicemails telling our lodge-bound friend to dump the beer and join us. No word from him, so we went back up into the sun and bombed down another run.

Once at the bottom, we ran into the lodge and convinced the pessimist to abandon the beer that had just been delivered and come back out with us. He reluctantly gave up the tasty beverage and trudged outside to put skis on again and make his way with us back to the chairlift. He was quiet on the ride up. And disturbingly, the fog seemed to be thicker than the last two trips up. Visibility dropped the further up the mountain we went. And sure enough, we reached the summit and… whiteout conditions again. Zero visibility. Mr. pessimist just looked at us without saying much. There wasn’t much we could say other than, “honest it was blue ski fifteen minutes ago.” Down we went into the soup.

Back at the bottom, tail between our legs we all went into the lodge for some adult beverages. We spent some time enjoying the warmth of the bar and mostly ignoring the elephant in the room. As everyone was finishing, I looked out the window and it appeared as though the fog was lifting a bit. I got smart this time and used my phone to bring up the live summit webcam. Sure enough, bright blue skies! I excitedly showed the video to my friends and suggested we hurry up and get at least one more run in while the sun was out. I was met with very skeptical looks. I kept pointing to the video – it’s a live look and I see sun! Let’s go!

Skis back on, hop on the chairlift, and back up we go. Do I even need to say what happened?

I have officially been fired as a weather and conditions prognosticator.

P.S. A bad day skiing is still better than being at work. Just saying…

Daily Life, Diet, Health

Let’s Go To The Numbers

I’ve said this before, but I’ll say it again. Somehow this blog turned into nothing but writing about my (lack of) health and fitness. I don’t know how that happened and it wasn’t my intention. But for some reason, 90% of my few followers have some connection to the health/nutrition/fitness industry. I don’t get it. Write about some current event or a political issue, and crickets. Write about how many cookies I ate last week, and I get new followers. I find it bizarre. Anyway, clearly you asked for it, so let’s go into excruciating detail about my numbers.

As part of this years revolution (not resolution), I’ll be tracking my weight daily. I want to see how things fluctuate with food and exercise. I use an impedance scale (this one if interested) which provides a number of stats. First off, yes I know they are not a precise tool. The non-weight numbers tend to fluctuate quite a bit from day to day. But as a way to watch trends over time, I think it’s a fine tool.

A side note on interesting observations… I’ve been using the scale on and off for a number of years. Out of curiosity I went back to when I was at my leanest and most cardio-fit (was doing tons of mountain trail running). At that point my body fat was 17.5% and lean muscle mass was 132 lbs. I wasn’t exactly Viking warrior material – more like Chris Froome cyclist physique.

Fast forward to today. Body fat is, well… an embarrassing 26.8% I know, I know, we’re working on it. But here’s the interesting number. I’ve been lifting weights seriously for about four months now. Muscle mass today is at 147.8 lbs. A 15.8 lb gain in lean muscle mass! Now I don’t think that’s a super accurate number, but it has been steadily increasing over the last few months. Given my age and the back issues I’ve had recently, I’ll take muscle mass and core strength improvements over body fat%.

But we’re all vain creatures (if we’re honest) and I’m tired of struggling to button my jeans, so the body fat number is important. The official weigh in was Jan 2. Here’s what the numbers show:

Jan 2 food/exercise: several eggs + bacon; string cheese, grapes, a few pretzels; tri-tip, salad; a big piece of cake; went downhill skiing for the day.

Jan 3 weight increased .2 lbs, no change in body fat%.

Jan 3 food/exercise: stuffed bell pepper + cheese/sour cream; plate of Chinese food; big handful of chips; another plate of Chinese food; 1 small piece of chocolate; Split and carried wood up a flight of stairs for 40 minutes, went cross country skiing.

Jan 4 weight increased 2.4 lbs and body fat increased .4%

What the hell? So frustrating. Zero alcohol, nothing crazy calorie-wise (well, cake), was pretty active, and I gain 2+ pounds. This is why people get so frustrated dieting.

Here’s my guess – Because I cut out alcohol, I’ve been pounding fluids. Water, coffee, and 3-4 “vitamin waters”. It doesn’t seem like I’ve voided commensurate with overall fluid intake and I’m sure the Chinese food had tons of sodium. My theory is that most of that weight gain is fluid retention. Maybe? Unfortunately, the scale says my water percentage has actually gone down, so I don’t know what to think.

Obviously, the answer is to go back to tracking calories (I use this app) and map that to the scales data and watch the trend. Once I see a clear trend with calories to weight loss, I can create a bunch of known calorie meals and plan for the week. Remember – revolution, not resolution. Systems, not goals.

Sigh… why is this so hard? I want to go back to my twenties and the steady diet of burgers and nachos just to keep weight on.

Daily Life, Motivation

Resolution Or Revolution?

It’s time for the annual beginning of the year resolutions. I’ve never been a big fan of resolutions. Mostly because I rarely keep them for more than a week. Also, because at my age do I really need to be resolving to eat more tofu to save the planet? No. Tomorrow is not a guarantee. Besides, making resolutions like that are just virtue signaling. Nobody cares.

But every few years I do try to set goals. Take last year. I was bored leading up to the new year and binge watched a bunch of minimalist and productivity YouTube videos. I went on a two-day productivity frenzy getting ready for the new year. I re-re-re-started a bullet journal. I put schedules and workout plans together. I mapped out all the motorcycle and camping trips I wanted to do. I even put a 2022 Goals page together with tracking metrics that I was going to use to measure progress.

I had a lot of fitness goals, some fly-fishing things I wanted to do, motorcycle camping trips, and a bunch of river rafting day trips I planned on doing. You can see that my goals are not terribly intellectual, spiritual, or altruistic. I never claimed to be the sharpest crayon in the box. Anyway, so how many did I accomplish? Zero. Zip. None. Nadda. Whoo hoo! Underachievers of the world, unite!

Interestingly, I’d completely forgotten I’d even set those goals. I stumbled upon them yesterday while I was looking for something else. Clearly, they weren’t terribly memorable or important to me if I didn’t even remember them. It made me think about what I wanted out of this current new year. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that there wasn’t any single thing I could come up with. I literally couldn’t come up with a single, burning desire that I wanted to accomplish this year. Not one thing. My god, how uninteresting and shallow of a person does that make me?

Have I turned into one of those boring country rubes with no life desires other than to sit on the porch and watch the traffic go by? Don’t get me wrong, there are things I want to do – ride the motorcycle, get back to making YouTube content, lose weight, work on the house, etc… but I don’t have a driving passion to make them happen. If they happen, great. If not, oh well.

After writing and re-reading that last paragraph, I don’t like what it says about my state of mind. My god, that’s a recipe for complacency and a ticket straight to sitting on the couch, watching ESPN reruns and eating bon-bons. So now what?

I thought about writing down goals again, but I’d just be making stuff up and would be ignoring them in a few weeks as per usual. I really thought about this for some time, and then accidentally stumbled upon one of the definitions of “revolution”.

a forcible overthrow of a social order, in favor of a new system

It reminded me of something cartoonist and writer Scott Adams says, “for success, create systems instead of goals”. For example, wanting to lose ten pounds is a goal. Learning to eat right is a system that substitutes knowledge for willpower.

So that’s it. It’s time for a Revolution. We’re throwing out my old social order and creating a new one. The plan for 2023 is to create systems instead of goals. Routines that make it easier to succeed at the day-to-day. Routines that lead to better habits around health. Routines that make it more likely to plan trips, house tasks, and creative projects. The more I think about it, the more I like it.

The problem with many revolutions is that once you’ve fired up the population and stormed the gates, you hit a “now what?” moment. Do I go throw everything out of the pantry? Mount a huge chalkboard for meal planning in the kitchen? Start blocking out days on the calendar to force myself to plan things? Re-re-re-re-start the bullet journal?

Hmmm… Analysis paralysis. Ok, maybe I don’t know what this is going to look like yet, but I promise change is happening. Stay tuned.

Viva la revolución!

Diet, Health

I Have To Take A Test?

Humans, by nature, are procrastinators. We generally don’t have a good grasp on large-scale time, so it’s easy to put things off. I’ll start my diet on Monday. Yeah, I know I should probably start tracking my blood pressure. I haven’t gone to a doctor in a long time, but I’m just so busy right now. We all do it. Things that aren’t an immediate concern are easy to put off. Next thing you know, months (or years) have gone by. You just don’t think about it, until something bad happens.

Someone we know recently had a family member whose husband suffered a massive heart attack right in front of her. It must have been an awful experience. He was only a few years older than me. I’ll be honest, it sort of freaked me out. To be what I consider still relatively young and have something like that happen. How did he not know he was at risk? The answer is that most of us don’t. My floor at the hospital was neuroscience. A large portion of our patients were stroke victims. And a very large portion of those patients either had no idea they were at risk, or probably knew and chose not to take corrective action. I get it – we’re procrastinators. We can always start tomorrow. I’ve got plenty of time.

There’s a screening test I’d been planning on taking for a while but kept putting off. It’s the coronary artery calcium scan. It shows how much plaque buildup you have in your arteries. The score you get gives you an idea of where you risk factor falls as a percentile based upon your age. Typical numbers range from zero to 400, although it’s not uncommon to see numbers in the 1,000’s. With your score you can make decisions with your doctor about risk factors and medication and lifestyle changes needed to best manage your lifelong risk. This is a pretty good video to describe the test a bit more.

Anyway, I’d been planning on getting the test and actually had a referral set up from my doctor and then virus which shall not be named hit and everything shut down. And I promptly forgot about the test. That is, until I heard about the guy having the heart attack last week. Convinced my arteries were already completely occluded, I called my doctor and got the referral right away.

The test is an easy and non-invasive CT scan (a fancy Xray). 15 minutes. If insurance doesn’t cover it, it’s not expensive – $150 to $300. The odd thing is that very few general practitioners will prescribe it as a general screening tool unless you’re already in a high-risk category. You almost always have to ask for it. It makes no sense. We have a cheap, non-invasive screening tool available, why not use it? I suppose just prescribing statins to everyone based upon cholesterol ratios is easier. Whatever.

Anyway, I got my test done. And by that afternoon I had the results. Perfect. A score of zero. No evidence of plaque buildup. Whew! I can continue to eat bacon. Because I’m older and not exactly a life-long marathon runner, I was convinced for some reason that my results were going to come back and show significant blockage. I don’t know why I was so sure of it. It must be the realization that I am aging. I’m drifting towards that age when bad things start happening to people. Very morbid, I know.

But all is good. I’ve been working hard in the gym and seeing improvement. Ski season started and my fitness is better at this early stage than it’s been in a while. I’m pleased. Except the diet. I just can’t seem to bust through that mental blockage. I blame it on hockey. Our local ECHL team has a deal where if they score 4 goals everyone in the stadium gets a coupon for a free Jumbo Jack. This season we’ve been winning a lot, and by large margins. Let’s just say I have more free Jumbo Jack coupons than I need. And the last thing I need to do is be eating Jumbo Jacks. The struggle is real, people.

Health, Motivation

It Just Hurts

When I first started out as an RN, I’ll admit I got a bit judgmental sometimes towards certain patients. It was the folks who were fairly obese, in their late 60’s or early 70’s, and lacked the strength to get off the toilet or out of a chair. As two and sometimes three of us struggled to get them standing so they could shuffle back to bed, I’d say to myself “how could anyone let themselves get to that point?” They’d reject the physical therapists who came to work with them, saying they were too tired or hurt too much to do anything today. I’d do my best to encourage them, often admonishing them that if they didn’t start moving things were only going to get worse.

I just couldn’t fathom wanting to spend your remaining years in that condition. Why didn’t they take better care of themselves? One of the more common problems we’d see with this patient population was toenails. Nasty curled and twisted daggers that hadn’t been cut in god knows how long. Often they couldn’t wear socks anymore because you couldn’t pull them on without snagging on the nails. They’d just resort to wearing sandals or slippers all the time. Why? Because they’d become so deconditioned, they couldn’t bend over enough to clip their own toenails. It just seemed so crazy to me. And when they wouldn’t work with therapy and rejected most advice to do something, anything, to help themselves… I’ll admit I developed a certain lack of sympathy.

Fast forward to today. I hurt. Everywhere. I can barely lift my arms over my head. I look like an 80-year-old walking down the stairs. The moaning and groaning when I attempt to get down on the ground is ridiculous. Why am I in this state? Well… my back injury scared me enough that I’m going full speed, hard core, with my workouts. Every day has been at least an hour in the gym. Stretching, mobility work, kettle bells, club bells, lunges, squats, medicine balls… every exercise I can find on YouTube. Plus another hour and a half of hiking hills with the dog.

The end result is that I’m sore. Everywhere. There isn’t a body part that doesn’t hurt right now. Yes, I realize that I’m probably overtraining a bit. But I’m scared. The back strain was a brief window into a potential future if I don’t fix things. And I don’t like the future I saw.

Reality, as they say, came up and bitch slapped me in the face. I was forced to admit to myself the true, current state of all things physical. I’ve never been very physically strong, so I tended to avoid gym work. I was pretty good with endurance stuff, so that’s what I did. I mountain biked, skied, and ran. And I told myself I was in decent shape. Yes, cardiovascular-wise I was. But year after year my muscles were atrophying. Now, years of ignoring strength conditioning have caught up to me. I strained my back badly while sweeping leaves. Yes, really.

Muscle atrophy and weight gain are insidious creatures. They sneak up on you. Every year a little weaker, a little heavier. As it creeps up on you, your motivation to do something about it gets less and less. Sure, you try here and there to diet or start working out again, but it’s hard. The weight doesn’t come off and you end up hungry and frustrated. Your attempts to work out leave you sore and unable to walk. It’s really hard to keep getting after it when you feel like that. Pretty quickly you abandon the diet and give up the workouts. And the atrophy keeps setting in.

And that’s where I had a very real insight into how those patients let themselves go. And I feel bad for not having more empathy for them all those years ago. It would be so easy to do. I hurt, I’m sore, I’m tired. At my age, do I really need to be trying to lift weights? Let’s just stop. A heating pad and some pain pills will make me comfortable. Blink my eyes and I’ll be that old guy struggling to get off the toilet.

No. I’m not going to do that. I refuse to give up. I know that if I just keep pushing, eventually the soreness goes away. Muscles and tendons will become more supple. The aches and pains get better. Mobility and balance improve. I will not let atrophy win.

I’ll just have to wear hats for a while… my arms hurt too much to brush my hair.

Health

It’s So Small

I should probably start keeping a spreadsheet of all the fitness fads I’ve signed on to. You name it, I’ve probably done it. Except the Suzanne Somers Thigh Master. Never had one of those. This time around it’s the most ancient of all mankind’s tools – a club. In my relentless search to find a way to fix my back for good, I’ve decided to start waving a heavy club around at pedestrians in the street. Ok, maybe not exactly that.

I’ve been following a “fitness influencer” for quite a while who advocates for mastering some basic core, functional fitness movements BEFORE trying things like deadlifts and heavy squats. I’d forgotten I followed him until one of his videos popped up on YouTube while searching for back pain exercises. In a nutshell, he advocates a volume cycle of single arm movements with kettlebells and clubs, plus some presses and bodyweight squats as a starting point. Until you have proper hip rotation, foot alignment, and adequate core strength, you’re asking to get hurt trying more complex movements.

He had an interesting observation about ancient physiques vs today. The Greeks and Romans had relatively smaller shoulders, biceps, and chests. They had massive back muscles, forearms, abdominals, glutes and thighs. The exact opposite of what we think of today as the ideal physical form (massive chests and biceps, with tiny waists). I have neither form, so I’m nicely poised to go either direction.

Anyway, so I watched approximately 18 hours of heavy club swinging videos and got all excited. I just know this is the ticket to fix my back and bad shoulder. The club he likes is adjustable from ten pounds to something I wouldn’t even be able to lift. The problem is that it was a couple hundred dollars. Not sure I wanted to commit that much to something I wasn’t sure I’d like doing, I jumped on Amazon to look for an alternative. Sure enough I found some Chinese company selling a whole size range of clubs, starting at $19. Bingo. I ordered the smallest weight one, so I could get the form and movements right.

We were going to be out of town for a number of days, so I arranged for the package to be delivered to a UPS store. I was so excited about my new club I didn’t want any chance of someone stealing it off my porch. Mrs. Troutdog got home before me, so I had her go pick it up so I wouldn’t miss a moment of my new club training routine.

Now keep in mind the videos I’ve been watching featured a muscular guy swinging a giant, heavy three-foot club around like an ancient Viking crushing the skulls of his enemies. Imagine my face when I opened the box and saw my new club. It’s tiny. A foot long and 5 pounds. It looks like a child’s toy. Mrs. Troutdog looked at it with a puzzled face and asked, “what is this?” My aspirations of Viking-like strength dimmed a bit.

I’m not one to give up easily, so I’ve been doing my mini-club routine (near) daily. Here’s what I’ve discovered. I struggle to keep my feet aligned. I have very poor rotational mechanics. My shoulder mobility is very limited. I don’t know how to maintain a good pattern of exhale/inhale when doing movements. And standing fully upright while bracing my core and engaging the glutes leaves me sore for the rest of the day. All with a little 5-pound club.

Now I’m not saying swinging a club around is the end-all-be-all. But it’s working. It’s exposing flaws. So I’m going to keep up with it. Soon, I should be able to graduate to a heavier club. Viking-like abs may not ever be in my future but being able to get out of a chair without assistance, or to carry all the groceries in one pass will be.

I wonder what my next fitness fad will be?