rebuilding

For as active as I am, I’ve been pretty fortunate to remain injury free.

About six weeks ago I began experiencing pain in my right quadricep. I had a massage to work it out and continued as I had been, but the pain returned. This time it spread to my right glute and hamstring. 

At my next massage therapy session we delved a little bit deeper in an attempt to discover the root of the problem. We talked about my recent exercise patterns. Had anything changed? 

Thankfully I am anal retentive about tracking my workouts. This allowed me to easily determine that not only had I increased the weight during leg workouts, I had also increased the volume (by adding two days of a short body weight routine). 

The result...my right quadricep became significantly stronger than my left and my quadriceps (in general) became significantly stronger than my hamstrings.

Once we identified the source of the problem we were able to come up with a strategy for correcting it. I’m working on strengthening my posterior chain. I’m working on regaining balance with single leg exercises. 

I’m working on body awareness, not only in regard to pain, but also when it comes to breathing...this has proven to be the most challenging part of the rebuilding process.

reloading

I’m pretty good friends with this guy at the gym. There are times when I catch him lifting with shitty form and I’ll call him out on it. The problem is that he is frustrated that his fifty-something year old self cannot lift the same weight as his forty-something year old self. He’ll frequently tell me what he used to be able to do.


Two weeks ago he hurt his shoulder doing lateral raises with a weight he had no business lifting. It set him back a week. When he returned I told him to stop lifting with his dick (or his ego) and to be thankful for what he can do.

On Friday, a similar scenario presented itself. One of the morning regulars, a guy in his mid-fifties asked me for a spot on the bench press. He was attempting a one rep max. When he completed it he told me that he has a bum shoulder and was advised to stop benching fifteen years ago...but, there is just something about being able to do it that he can’t let go of...it’s almost as if he uses it as a measure of something more than just physical strength.

Getting old doesn’t have to suck. These guys need to realize that their foundation is there. All they need to do is switch up the tools they are using to keep it strong.

CHSP

It started with a cookie from time to time, then it went to halloween candy, chocolate covered pretzels, christmas cookies, cereal, girl scout cookies, donuts, easter candy, jelly beans, cupcakes, birthday cake, breads, pies...the list goes on an on...most recently it has been vanilla creme sandwich and chocolate peanut butter cookies from Aldi. At first it was three or four around lunch time...then it was six...then it was six before and six after...when I finally said enough is enough the total hovered around twenty cookies a day.

I didn’t eat a single one. I chewed them, just for the taste, and spit them out into a plastic cup.

I have been struggling with an eating disorder for the past three and a half years. The funny thing is that initially, I didn’t even know it was one. It has a name. It is called Chewing and Spitting Disorder (CHSP).

My brother’s cancer diagnosis sent life into a tailspin. It was a wild ride, one that left me feeling helpless and out of control. With so much unpredictability, I sought out something I could control..food.

I can’t say that I have made a ton of progress in breaking this habit, but I have taken small steps. Tootsie Pops have been a good alternative. One of those can last me at least a day, if not longer.

The largest obstacle I face is lack of access to decent mental health care. This is something that I should discuss with a therapist. Unfortunately, I cannot afford to pay for the service out of pocket and the limited options provided by my insurance are not appropriate.

The thing that took the most courage wasn’t sharing my story with people. The real courage came a few months ago when I took a glass (cookie) jar into the woods and threw it against a tree, shattering it to pieces.

I’m sure there are other people out there struggling with the same thing. I’m sure there are people out there struggling with much worse. Remember, just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it’s not there.

Caffeinated CX 2018

Nervous energy…thats’ the only explanation I had as I watched the hours pass...2am, 3:12am, 4:25am 5:15am...I conceded, rolled out of bed and went down stairs to make a cup of coffee in the French press. 

The sun wasn’t up when I headed to the basement gym to burn off some of that nervous energy. I put in a decent 50 minute effort on the rollers and felt satisfied completing a workout in case I did not race. That was still a very likely possibility, even though I purposely put on my skin suit before leaving the house. 

As I walked out the door my dad said “good luck” to which I replied “thanks, I don’t even know if I am going to race.” Then I paused and said “I used to enjoy it so much, but it’s just not fun any more.” 

And there it was...I said it...what I was really thinking was that nothing is much fun any more. It’s been a struggle to find enjoyment in anything since my brother passed away. 

The first step was driving to the race venue. I was greeted by a handful of familiar faces as I made my way to the registration table. Step two was getting my number. Step three was pinning it on. So far so good. I made a few handup requests and decided to give it a go. 

The race started and it wasn’t long before we caught the back of the field who had started a minute ahead of us, one of whom went down right in front of me. This forced me to get off my bike in a bad spot. The woman who was in second place behind steered clear the traffic jam. I lost contact with her. 

And the was the race...four laps of seeing her just ahead of me...no one in sight behind me. I picked off riders from the 4/5 field for motivation until the bell lap when I got my Fuego handup. 

Second place was not a bad showing for my first race in over two years. 

The takeaways: First, I am definitely NOT in bike racing shape. Second, the cx community is full of wonderful and supportive people. This, I have always known and I am thankful that it has not changed in my absence. Finally, racing was much more of an emotional experience that I had anticipated. The physical strain is something my body is well prepared to handle, but emotionally, I am not quite there yet. 

Coming out of retirement for a day felt pretty good, but I’m not sure what the future holds.

The (delay of a) Comeback

The idea of entering a few cyclocross races popped into my head at the end of August. I spent most of my free time for the past three summers in New Hampshire, chipping away at the Four Thousand Footers. Riding a bicycle seemed like a nice change of pace

The first thing I did was request a downgrade from Cat 2 to Cat 3. Let’s be honest, I’ve never been Cat 2 material and racing Cat 3 would provide me with more options.

Once that was approved I started looking at the race calendar. The biggest obstacle I’ve faced when I comes to racing is the cost. After paying for a license, registration fees and gas it becomes quite costly. Not to mention it prohibits me from working on weekends, which I frequently do.

A few posts on social media landed me in a much better position. Not only was I able to coordinate volunteer work in exchange for free registration, an old cx pal “sponsored” me by covering the cost of my license.

I was all set to return last Sunday at Cooper River CX.

On Saturday morning I helped with course set up which involved raking leaves, picking up sticks and taping the course. When I was finished I went home and passed out. The next morning I woke up feeling like shit. My sinuses were full of yuck and my chest felt heavy. I went to the gym to see if I could loosen things up a bit to no avail...if I could barely breathe inside then a full blown effort outside was out of the question.

I struggled with this decision, mainly because I told people that I would be there and I don’t like going back on my word. When all is said and done I am not doing this for anyone but myself so when I do finally get out there again I want it to feel right.

My 44th Year

gravel fondo, steel is real, black mountain cycles...The Keepers, Everything Sucks, The End of the F***ing World, 13 Reasons Why, Shameless...Reading Terminal Market, Beiler’s Bakery, Macy’s with mom, Believe...La Colombe, pure black, High Brew, burr mill grinder, Mexico Dark...Christmas Day, Coco, Classic Asia...Super X, hulk smash...Brute Force Training, functional strength, sandbags, basement gym...crock pot chicken, cookie butter, couscous, carrot noodles, broccoli slaw, avocados guacamole...bang trim...focus groups...amazon rewards...power seller...baby hippo, broken teeth, vet bills...no vacation...Hale, Zealand, Cabot, Waumbek...blueberry Clif Bar, Epic turkey almond cranberry...Backpacker Radio, Ear Hustle, Heaven’s Gate, Up and Vanished...Hancock Campground...sandwich range traverse, Passaconaway, Whiteface, The Sleepers, Middle Tripyramid, North Tripyramid...rock slides...ice bath cooler...Glen Boulder, Isolation...peanut butter, raisins, pancakes...Moosilauke...bag full of scrambled eggs...Duke, puppy sitting, peeing in the pool...Hazelnator, nail bed infection, more vet bills...staycation...Wildwood, Mack's Pizza, Ed’s Funcade, Sea Shell Ice Cream...my second year without you...on my own terms...The Notch Hostel...Dunkin Donuts, americano, Lincoln Woods...Owl’s Head, crocs, water crossings, wet feet...a fucking pile of rocks in the woods...road walk, Carrigain, fire tower, forty eight finished...Wild Foods, power shrooms, cocotropic, fish oil...AT PCT CDT...thru hikes, day dreams, ultra light..Big Agnes, ULA, Voormi, Point Six, Patagonia, Enlightened Equipment, Nemo...#bulkinglikeaboss #sendit #theplantyogi #lftoddsht #trainaccordingly #nh48

It should go without saying…

I have been friends with this guy for about seven years. He’s a nice guy and I enjoy hanging out with him. We have a lot of similar interests, including women, yet for some reason he continues to make inappropriate comments.

There was a stretch of several months last year when we weren’t in touch, but we recently started hanging out again. It didn’t take long for his comments to resume. I am on the receiving end of text messages like...wanna make out...let’s go to the movies and hold hands...want to come over and cuddle. There is only so much of it that I can take BUT the fact of the matter is that I shouldn’t have to take it at all. He shouldn’t be doing it, period. It makes me feel uncomfortable.

In the past I would simply ask him to stop. This last time all I did was delete his contact information. I finally realized that it isn’t my responsibility. 

to feel alive: June 29

Do Friday right...

to feel alive: June 20

When you can't decide, get two!

Stories from the Trail: Shake Your Trail Feathers

I’ve written about feathers in a previous post. You can find it HERE.

A couple weeks ago I saw a feather on the ground when I was walking the dog. We had just started and I knew I would pass back that way so I did not pick it up. Twenty minutes later, it was gone.

It must have been for someone else.

Monday’s hike on Mount Tecumseh was a trying experience. I missed a turn which required me to backtrack to the summit. I got turned around at the summit, resulting in an additional two miles of hiking.

On the way down to the car I was feeling somewhat defeated and the only things I had to look forward to were a 7 hour car ride home and the George Washington Bridge at rush hour.

In my final moments on the trail I looked down and saw a feather. I picked it up. This one was for me.

Stories from the Trail: Find a Penny, Pick it Up

After I did the math, things weren’t looking so good.

It was about an hour from the lodge to the Mount Cabot trailhead where I’d hike 9.6 miles (book time 6:00) then travel an hour to the Starr King trailhead where I’d hike Mount Waumbek 7.2 miles (book time 4:55) then get in my car and drive half an hour to the Highland Center for dinner at 6pm.

The mileage (16.8) and the elevation gain (5050 feet) weren’t as off-putting as the fact that I’d most likely be missing a BANGING dinner if I attempted both hikes in one day.

On Saturday night I contemplated several options for Plan B. I had yet to reach a verdict when I woke up on Sunday morning. Part of me still wanted to give it a go BUT after waiting an extra half hour for (extremely delicious) coffee to be set out AND being unable to locate the trailhead for half an hour those dreams began to fade.

At 7:35AM I found the York Pond Trail and started my journey to Mount Cabot. Not even a minute had passed when I looked down and saw a penny. It was on heads. I took two steps by it, turned around and picked it up. I dug deep, found an extra gear and crushed Cabot in three and a half hours.

I was off the trail just after 11AM and ate lunch in the car while on my way to Mount Waumbek where I proceeded to crush it again in two hours and forty five minutes. This gave me enough time to drive to the Highland Center, shower and do yoga before dinner.

Miles: 16.8
Elevation Gain: 5050 feet
Time: About 6:15

Stories from the Trail: Dana and Piper

It took me over eight hours to get to the AMC Highland Center. When I checked in it was close to 9PM. The guy at the desk told me that several people had encountered traffic and it was most likely due to the fact that it was motorcycle weekend.

On my way in I noticed a woman (with a large pack and a cute dog) on her phone. She was speaking loudly about the horrible day she had. By the time I had finished at the desk she had made her way inside and was inquiring about a shuttle to a local campground. No shuttles were running and both of the desk attendants were unable to take her. I asked how far away it was (about six miles up the road) and volunteered to drive her.

When we arrived, the campground was at capacity so we turned around and headed back to the Highland Center. I offered to let her sleep in my car. She called her boyfriend (who must be one hell of a guy) and he agreed to make the two hour drive to get her.

At this point I hadn’t even gotten her name (Dana and her dog was Piper) but it didn’t really matter. She was supposed to be spending the night at tent site on trail, but had gotten turned around (due to poorly maintained trails) and ended up on the side of the road (302) by the Highland Center.

I gathered my stuff from the trunk and she thanked me...it was really no problem, if I was in your situation I would want someone to do the same for me. She told me she would not forget this encounter. To me, that is more powerful than hearing the words “thank you.”

to feel alive: June 11

Give it 110% even if it means you fall down occasionally. 

Scars make for good stories.

to feel alive: June 8

1. Leave work early 

2. Obtain caffeine

3. Drive to New Hampshire

to feel alive

Last week I went to the Phillies game with a friend I hadn’t seen in quite some time. I drank beer, ate a lot of peanuts and stayed up WAY past my bedtime.

The next morning I was tired, but I woke up at the usual time and did all of the things I would normally do on a Thursday without a problem. That night was the happiest I have been in a long time. It was so nice to be out at the ballpark on a beautiful evening, people watching and catching up with an old friend. 

Part of me died in August of 2016. Since that time I feel as if I am just going through the motions. I still enjoy a sunset, but the colors are muted. That night at the ballpark was the most alive I have felt in a long time. Maybe that was just what I needed to start seeing all of the colors.

I didn’t complete a photo project in January so I’m going to do one this month. My goal is find one thing each week that makes me feel alive. Maybe there will be more than one.

Let’s see where this journey leads...

maintenance

About a year ago I contacted someone to calculate my macros. She asked me to answer some questions and take some photographs. A few days later, my numbers (proteins, fats and carbs) were returned to me.

In order to lose weight one must eat below a certain number of calories per day.

In order to gain weight one must eat above a certain number of calories per day.

That number is called “maintenance.”

Since dropping the last few stubborn pounds I have been sitting at maintenance...nothing above, nothing below...a flat line.

With that comes a certain degree of predictability, which suited me well during the months following my brother’s death. It allowed for structure during a time when everything felt like it was spiraling out of control. I am grateful for that.

Looking back, it is clear that I’ve been maintaining in more than one facet of my life.

I recently purchased a t-shirt. It has a donut on it (anyone who knows me knows the way I feel about donuts) and it says “Bulking Like a Boss.” I started lifting heavier, eating more and running less.

I am ready to move past maintenance.




“We have to dare to be ourselves, however frightening or strange that self may prove to be."
-May Sarton

subtraction

Occasionally, I need to access the printer which is located in my dad’s office. His desk is an absolute mess, littered with piles, papers and notes. 

The one that caught my eye most recently was his “daily schedule” which includes exercise, reading and meditation. It seems as though he is trying to incorporate some healthy practices into his life. That is admirable. What I don’t think he realizes is that well being is all about finding a balance. 

You can add a million positive things to your life but if you don't remove the negative ones you'll continue to spin your wheels.

the lucky ones

I just made my father cry. I didn’t mean to, but there was something that he needed to hear, whether he liked it or not. My delivery is not always the best, but my intentions are usually good.

Tomorrow would have been my brother’s 39th birthday. My parents will spend the day together, most likely doing something to help them forget the pain that comes with the loss of a child. I will spend the day alone, doing something to remember him (which will probably involve a trip to Wawa).

Last month, my dad made the decision (for no good reason) that he was “done with” his sister. I’ve heard my parents discuss this a couple times in recent weeks because it has put my mom an awkward position.

Tonight he was sitting in his chair and we were talking about tomorrow. He reminded me that it was Matt’s birthday. I told him that I knew and that Matt had been on my mind a lot lately. I went on to say this...I don’t know what you have going on with Aunt Barbara, but you are lucky to have a sister. I wish I had a brother. I’d give anything to have him back right now.

If you’re reading this and you have a sibling, consider yourself fortunate. Take the opportunity to let them know that.

Happy Birthday Matt

I think I need a sunrise...

In 2013 I began a project that involved taking one picture every day during the month of January. I didn’t do it this year. 

Lately, I’ve found myself struggling for something, anything to look forward to. This winter has felt particularly harsh, mentally, physically and emotionally. 

Sometimes I like to pretend that the clouds are mountains. For a few seconds,  I am no longer in NJ. It’s moments like these that I need more of right now. February is a short month and my goal is to draw inspiration from one thing each day.