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Getting Serious, 7 Years Later

When I first logged onto MFP we didn't even have a LIKE button. If we thought you did a great job, we commented WTG. Under Armor was only a retailer of orgasmic compression gear.

There wasn't even a crappy MFP app back then.

Last week we found out that we have been hacked and all our food diaries are up for sale with various internal organs on the black market. I have a handful of friends I met way back then. Bobby D, John W, Dan E, Cami from CO, and Sean the Enforcer - oh, and Dootzy and Bill, Ken L. and Alicia, Emily D, JMN, Hoppymom, Navygunner, and Annabelle from AZ.

I am sure there are more who have been on the journey with me. If you have a copy of my book, you were here over 3 years ago.

So, I guess you are wondering what I have accomplished since I first logged on? On April 4th, 2011 I had congestive heart failure. I was in ICU for week. I weighed 267 when I went in, and 244 not long after I came out.

When I got home, I just cried.

I was scared, well medicated, and obese. All of that was my doing. I had to make a choice about my health. No more putting it off. No more excuses. No more blaming others. No more feeling sorry for myself.

None of that would do if I was going to live.

I signed up for the gym, got registered for a weight loss class, which I went to twice a week. I learned about nutrition, exercise, and here, I learned about calorie counting.

I hated it. But I did it.

I began writing a blog to manage my emotions. The heart trauma left me scared. The truth was I didn't know what was going to happen next. I wore a heart monitor all the time, weighed in and took my blood pressure twice a day, and digitally answered questions about my medication.

The insurance company wanted me dead or well, but not sucking away their precious profits.

Sunday, June 12, 2011, I started my logging journey on MFP. I haven't missed logging on since then. I had to take control. I just couldn't sit there feeling tired, depressed, fat, and miserable. I started three 30 minute workouts a week - ok, I started running marathons and it was a lot more.

I was time to make a commitment and own my choices.

I have seen a lot of people come and go here. Some of them come back. Sadly, some have died. Yeah. Dead. If you don't want to be fit, that's your choice. Or maybe I should say, if you don't want to work at this, there is nothing I can do to help.

Today I am blessed to have had a second chance at life.

My wife has a co-worker who suffered a heart attack over the weekend. He is 41. Taking care of yourself can be serious very quickly. There are no guarantees. Today is a good day start the journey.

Make a commitment. Make some friends. Get going.

I Really Wanted to Give Up, I Have Before

As the London Marathon draws closer, it has become a bit of a stress. I broke my leg in October and missed 9 weeks of training during prime running weather. I gained 12 pounds. By the time I got running again, it seemed that we have had snow storm after snow storm. I never liked the treadmill, and being forced to use it has changed me.

Not for the better.

The good news is that I get to run. Running is a gift. I condensed my training. usually when you train for a marathon, you ramp up slowly. When you start marathon training you would normally be up to a half marathon (13.1 miles or 21-something KM). Then you add the other half marathon over the next 18 weeks. Actually, you just run 20 miles as your long run. There are a few cutback weeks, and you really end up adding about 7 miles over those 18 weeks.

I missed nine weeks. Nine long runs never happened. 

My training was basically starting nine weeks late from zero miles. I ran lots of short runs to build up my stamina, but the long runs were knocking at the door. I went from 8 miles, to 11 miles, and then I jumped up to 17 miles. That was two weeks ago. Sunday, I ran 20 miles in 4 hours. Six of that i did with Ruth. <3 I basically skipped my 9, 10, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 18 and 19 mile long runs.

Not my best move, but I pulled it off. 20 miles if about 76% of the total 26.2 miles.

In fact, overall it was a good run. I didn't fall down and bang up anything. The sun was out. I didn't poop my running shorts. I didn't even choke on my Gatorade. I was a minute faster per mile than I was on my 17-miler a few weeks prior.

It's like it wasn't me.

All the time I was out there in sub-freezing weather (in my shorts and Boston Marathon finishers shirt), my pathetic runner friends raised about $1,000 for my charity. I can't tell you how grateful I am for that. I am over $4,000 of the $6,000 I agreed to raise. That's about 66% of my goal.

I am also grateful for those of you who have contributed!

Here I am about to run my 9th full marathon, which is my 5th world major. The 20-miler is a is the pinnacle of training. It is sort of a slide to the starting line from here. I am sore, but satisfied. I know I can do it despite the odds against it.

It may not be my best race, but I will finish.

For me - the old fat guy who almost died from heart failure seven years ago - finishing is a win. Raising money for charity makes me feel good about what I am doing. Your prayers, thoughts and comments are the wind in my sails.

Having the support of my wife is also precious commodity.

Marathoning is a strange blend of support, faith, hard work, and for me, a lot of grace. I didn't just wake up one day and decide to run a marathon. The desire to try, to work hard, and find a way to finish what I started, was the miracle.

When I began running, it was going to be a miracle that I could complete a 5K. I finished my first on March 25, 2011.

I remember crying at the end of the first race. Me in my dorky red basketball shorts. I did it. I also remember the day I hit the 20 mile mark in my first marathon in 2013. I cried then, too. That was back when I was feeling great. The last few years have been rough, but marathoning taught me that by putting one foot in front of the other, I could get to the finish line.

I will be doing that on April 22nd. Thanks for your support and encouragement. It means a lot.

I Almost Didn't Make It

I still can't believe it was me. I look back on some family photos from 00s. Wow, I was nearly 300 pounds! (pics in profile) I didn't mean to get there. I was a skinny kid and I was a skinny adult until I was 43. Then it began. It happened when I wasn't looking. 

Over time, the pounds added up!

I graduated HS at 165. I was 185 as an adult. I can't even imagine how you gain 115 pounds. One bite at a time, I guess. And so it happened to me. At 230 pounds I started a diet. I was back down to 190. Then up to 265, and back down to 199. It was just too much work. I tried the gym and had an injury, so I had to quit. It seemed like every time I tried to get active, something went wrong so I would give up. That was my story.

I kept giving up.

Then one day in 2011, I had congestive heart failure. Yes, I had started on the journey, again. Working hard for nearly three months, I was down nearly 50 pounds. When I weighed in at the hospital after seven days in ICU, I was 244, depressed, and certain my life was over. It was now just a matter of sitting in a chair and taking meds until I died.

I had no dreams left.

Not long after I got home, I had my daughter drop me off to see the running of the 2012 Boston Marathon. I can't tell you what happened that day, but something changed. Maybe God spoke to me. I'd like to believe that. I walked home the mile to my house in 55 minutes; stopping to rest on a park bench.

I took a three-hour nap.

When I awoke, I started logging on MFP and walking every day. I got back to the gym and worked with a trainer. She thought I was crazy to even try after CHF. I thought I might be too. I kept going, kept trying, kept logging, and started dreaming again.

Maybe I could run a 5K.

Maybe I could turn this around. I prayed that I would. I had a little setback, I had my knee repaired in December of 2011. I kept going to the gym. Five weeks later I was back to running. My walks became jogging from one telephone pole to next, followed by a recovery walk and another run. I began using the treadmill at work. I got up to two miles by the end of February.

I signed up for a 5K that would take place on March 25, 2012. One year after CHF. [That story here
 
I kept pushing on the treadmill at work. I ran on the street each weekend. I didn't know what the hell I was doing, but it felt good! Finally, the day came, I ran my first 5K, Run with Heart. I didn't walk a single step. I can hear John Mellencamp's Rain On the Scarecrow as my family stood in the drizzle to cheer me on.

I did it!

From there, I fell in love with running. I ran my first 10K in late August. I hit the road for my first half marathon in February of 2013. It was the same year I ran my first marathon. [That story here

Just 938 days after I was in C-ICU!

I have run 90 races, and nine of those were full marathons. It has not been without challenges. 2015 was my best year, running four marathons, and setting personal records in every distance. It was also the year in which IBD reared its ugly head. [That story here
 
It destroyed my 2016 running season. My longest run was just nine miles.

I have had some good care, but there is no cure for IBD. Despite the setbacks with cancer, I trained for and ran the Berlin Marathon in September 2017. I joined the Crohn's and Colitis Foundation, Team Challenge for the London Marathon next month. 

Despite a broken leg in October, a fall on my 11-miler, and worsening IBD, I am training for and will be running London. Just you wait and see.

2460 Days of MFP

What do you do when you have been here this long? Keep on logging in and being vigilant about your fitness journey. Why haven't I been logging my food the last week or so? Well, I wasn't feeling that great and had some under 1200 calorie days.

It made me mad that MFP wouldn't accept my diary submissions.

I have learned a lot from logging food. I have made the lifestyle change and I can pretty quickly size up a meal within 100 calories. It's just like the guys at the fish counter in the store. They can drop a filet of salmon on the scale and it's within tenths of an ounce.

There are no excuses for not logging.

I don't need kudos for logging my food. I just know that I am better when I manage my food choices by making a weekly meal plans, dividing up portions on a meal prep day, and putting my exercise in my Google calendar. When my life changes, I start logging to stay on track.

Planning = success.

So what has it been like since I first came to MFP?
- We used to have to comment "WTG" (way to go) because there wasn't a like button.
- The forums were filled with craziness, fad diets, and people selling shake replacement meals.
- A lot of folks have come and gone, but Dan E. and Bobby D. are still here. We've met each other, run marathons together, and speak on the phone regularly.
- José keeps in touch on Facebook as do some of you others.
- Some of the folks I met on here have died. #cancersucks Miss you Jill and Rocky
- John White still leads me in days logged in. Dan E. is right on my tail.
- I survived congestive heart failure, ran my first 5K, 10K, 1/2 marathon, the Boston Marathon, and ran across the states of Rhode Island and Massachusetts.
- I survived 2 melanoma surgeries, 2 colon tumor surgeries, and I have been battling prostate cancer for 4 years.
- I fell down running and broke a collar bone, a leg (2 times), and busted up my ribs.
- I went back to playing hockey, had my knee repaired, and a rotator cuff surgery.
- I met the love of my life and look forward to every day with her.
- With your help I wrote my first book, ICU to Marathon. I am working on my second one, the Pathetic Runner.
- I lost nearly 100 pounds (pics in my profile), gained back 10, lost it, gained back 20, and now I am on the way back down. I have lost 8 pounds in the last few months.

And I feel better than I ever have.

My tips for success? Make a few friends, log it all, get a food scale, get portion control tubs, move your ass, and last of all, don't die, it will ruin your life.

Thanks for the votes and comments - it all means a lot to me. And thanks for 2460 days of fitness changing encouragement.

I Finally Decided to Get Serious!

In November last year, I said "I do." Well, really I said, "I will love you forever." I had a less romantic encounter in February of 2011. There I was, fat (around 300 pounds), feeling old, and clinically depressed.

I confess, in my mind, I felt my life was pretty much over.

I was a desk jockey commuting into the city. I played in a country band and trust me, I was no chick magnet. Ha! Even when I was thin and playing in a rock-n-roll band back in the 70s and 80s, I didn't have any better luck.

I was married and played worship music through most of the 90s.

I tried the Dr. Phil diet thing back in 2003. I lost 30 pounds but ended up getting plantar fasciitis from wearing the wrong shoes and using the treadmill. Damn, PF is painful! I tried all sorts of things to cure it including the night splint, ice, cortisone shots, shoe inserts, rolling it, and even PT. Nothing.

I ended up gaining back 80 pounds.

I was pretty disgusted with myself and I couldn't even look in the mirror anymore. I shaved in the shower and ignored myself until my annual physical. Then I would be embarrassed ( not from just the rectal exam), get the lose weight lecture, and go home feeling defeated. I remember that all my clothes didn't fit anymore. I went from a 32" waist to 46". It got worse, I went to Sears and bought some ugly 48" stretch-waist work slacks. That was the low point. I felt like a clown in them.

I didn't think for a minute, that had the energy to lose weight.

I had a routine - a rat race, and it wasn't fun. Other than my family, I felt like I didn't have anything to live for. I had no dreams. I just hoped the doctors could medicate whatever was wrong with me. I was at least ten years away from retiring where I could sit around do nothing.

I felt hopeless.

My wife at the time, decided to do an In It To Lose It, class at the local YMCA. Because they had babysitting, we did it together. They gave us some tools, and logging on MFP was one of them.

What a pain in the @$$ it was, using the website.

I didn't make any friends, and I wasn't all that great at logging in. I did go to the class twice a week. OMG, I felt like throwing up every time. DOMS was my constant companion. Each week I started working out a third time on my own.

I lost about 20 pounds in the first two months!

I used to warm up for CrossFit like workouts by doing 20 minutes on the treadmill. It was ugly, and everything hurt. I worked really hard at managing my food. Diet meals and portion control helped.

However, my food choices weren't all that great.

I printed out a Couch to 5K plan I found on the Internet. With the encouragement of my friend Tommy, I started that too. A 5K was taking about 45 to 55 minutes to complete. OK, really an hour.

That was my first running goal.

What matters in all this is that I started. What matters now is that I stick with it. Most of you know that my running goals went from a 5K to running across Massachusetts in two days, and Rhode Island in one. I have completed about 90 races in all. Nine marathons of which four were World Major marathons.

My current running goal is to finish the six Abbott World Majors.

I will be in London April 22nd for number 5. I hope to be in Tokyo a year from now completing marathon number six. Then I want to retire from marathon running (not running) and work, do art, write, and enjoy the all the goodness in my life with Ruth. Until forever comes.

Thanks for the votes and comments. I got an IM from a friend. Yes, I am raising money for the Crohn's and Colitis Foundation (Team Challnge London).

Why I Hate Running II

Saturday morning I was a little late getting started because of the rib pain from my crash two weeks ago, kept me up for a few hours the night before. I usually have a cup of coffee around 5:30 or 6 am while reading my email and LIKING my friends accomplishments from the night before. Without coffee, I probably would be like, whatever.

The lack of caffeine can ruin a whole freakin' morning in a matter of minutes! It's one of the reasons I hate running life.

It was my 12 mile run training day and I wasn't off to a good start. I enjoyed a few minutes of social media and then I thought about getting dressed to run. I feel sort of weird waking up and running our the door; my bed was so comfortable and warm.

Now it was time to wait for my digestive system to work its magic. It didn't happen.

In fact, a sunny, beautiful, and crisp running day was slipping away. IBD was about to rob me of another run. It made me angry. It took an entire year of marathons from me in 2016. I managed to pull it together in 2017 when I ran Berlin.

Now registered for London ** in April, I need to get out there and get the hard work of training done.

Saturday turned into a joyful array of family and friends to celebrate my wife's birthday with lunch. Then there was the romantic dinner at a local steakhouse. Yes, there was chocolate. It was a  fun filled day!

In the back of my mind, this training run began to stress me out. I already lost 9 weeks with a broken leg and another week after my fall two weeks ago.

Sunday we got up early, had life-giving coffee, and got our weekly grocery shopping done. I prepped an easy-bake lunch (no, I don't have an Easy Bake Oven), and Ruth and I headed out the door. We had a two hour window before the next event. I made a pit stop before heading out.

It was then I noticed trouble on the horizon. Ah well.

I fiddled with my running app on the way downstairs, slipping on my Smartphone arm holder. Arm holder sounds like I have a prosthetic arm, but arm band sounds like I am a terrorist - but I digress.

Ruth and I opened the front door and got a blast to the cool, crisp air that gave my nipples an appreciation for their female counterparts. Together, we headed down our familiar route on the Boston Marathon course. This morning I couldn't remember how the heck to start. It was one foot in front of the other.

Making our way down the sidewalk, it was a an obstacle course dodging patches of slush and ice.

It was cold, and my shin started with this weird pain. I made a mental round of all my joints to see how things were. Too many to count, so I decided to focus on the run. Then my shorts started creeping up. Due the low levels of caffeine, I guess I didn't properly situate them after my pit stop.

I turned and smiled at Ruth while I dug out a world class wedgie.

With about a mile or so to go, I just wanted to get home and log my efforts because my MFP friends will think I am awesome for not dying.

I hate running, I thought. We trudged on.

Somewhere in the last few miles I began to think about how inviting the bathroom was going to be when I got in the door. Thinking about it, I might change my weigh in day to right after the run...

At four miles, Ruth left me to finish solo. 

I headed towards Boston for another mile and a half, and turned around.  Six isn't twelve, but it is better than zero. As I slowed to a walk a block from my house, the endorphins starting talking to me. I felt pretty good.

Monday Ruth and I went and ran three miles next to the ocean. The salt air, the sound of seagulls instead of trains and cars, along with a bit of sunshine made me love running again.

Thanks for your votes and comments!

** I am running London for the Crohn's and Colitis Foundation, strong supporters of IBD research.

Weight Loss, the New Religion

Since the beginning, mankind and their various religions have often turned the world upside down. Everyone has an opinion about unseen - whether it's good, bad, or somewhere in between. They worship, they teach, they hope, they pray, and they even spread the word about their personal enlightenment.

Folks can be just as religious about weight loss!

That's right, some of us have become enlightened and now everyone needs to become like us! What, you don't believe me? Here are the basic constructs of religion.

Belief in Supernatural Being, Deity or Absolute: Weight-losers believe that the calories are supernatural. Then sneak in at night and shrink your clothes and meddle with the zero balance on your scale.

Sacred and Profane Objects: Sacred objects include the scale, skinny jeans and sometimes the tape measure. The profane; chocolate, ice cream, donuts, wings, and pizza.

Moral Code: You must eat clean, lift heavy, do intervals, run in Vibrams, or zip your pants. There are many factions. Not all of them agree.

Religious Feelings: I ate donut, I feel fat. I ate a salad I feel skinny. I ran a marathon and I am sore. I am tempted by food. I mean, if a little wine for communion is good, then a whole bottle must be better!

Prayer: There are rote prayers like the names we call the scale. It's a universal language. Then there is the second donut prayer and the skipped my workout prayer before ascending to the Altar of Poundage. (I heard the Brits get stoned there.)

A World View: Our world is about weight and rarely about fitness. We have a hard time seeing ourselves as we really are. We say it's OK to have curves and type II diabetes. But then we hit a goal or two and sanity clears our vision.

Intolerance: Skinny people make us angry enough to trip them on the escalator at the mall.

Divine Destiny: We dream of the afterlife of being sexy and skinny somewhere in life. The truth is for most of us, our last chance to have a hot smoking body is cremation.

Problem of Evil Explained: We know about sugar, Aspartame and GMO's, just ask us!

A Social Group Bound Together: Umm, we are here on MFP.

Belief in a Sacred Scripture: Fad diets are everywhere, but heretics like me have written their own missal.
 
Capital Fundraisers: Things like getting 10,000 steps, walking 100 miles in a month, and the sugar free challenge. 
 
Rituals: Scale worship is like daily vespers. Then there is something akin to high mass like cheat days after 40 days of fasting and colon cleansing. Most agree that we need to give our old unhealthy lifestyle whatever the appropriate burial ritual is. 

Thanks for reading along. I appreciate the votes and comments.

Fighting Through

Life, exercise, food, logging, and health, each one has its own challenges. The London Marathon is April 22nd! That gives me about 75 days to get it together.

If you subtract the 3 or 4 weeks that won't count, I have about 50 days left to train.

It's a pretty tall order. I have been logging and exercising in machine mode - well, until Saturday. I was on a 10 mile run and right around mile 9 1/2, I stepped off the sidewalk to avoid a patch of ice. It had been a really great run on the Boston Marathon route. The sun was shining, I felt pretty good, my friend Sandy and I chattered away about marathons past.

We had avoided dozens of ice patches.

This one was no different. As I stepped off the sidewalk, I stumbled. And then I tripped. And then I fell. And then I hit the ground. And then I rolled. My rib cage smashed into the curb. I don't even remember my hands hitting the frozen pavement.

And my feet ended up right near the white line defining the shoulder of State Highway 135.

I caught a glimpse of a car stopping. I was a little dazed; Sandy asked me if I was OK. I guess if I was an Olympic faller, this would have been a 10. I got to my feet, dusted myself off, and started trotting towards home.

My ribs were complaining, my palms were stinging, and my hand started swelling.

I thought about calling my wife to get us, but I was cold. Stopping only meant being frozen in the 20 degree weather. Sandy just pushed on with me. She's a nurse, so she asked a lot of questions. I didn't give many answers.

Despite my ever increasing pain, we snapped a Boston selfie at the 16 miles to go sign.

When I got home, I just wanted a drink of water, eat some food, and a chance to lie down. My wife, Sandy, and I chatted about my condition. We talked about our next run, and then Sandy headed for home.

I went and lay down.

After an hour or so of relaxing and a hot shower, I decided to go to the emergency room. Ruth helped me put on my jacket and we headed up the hill to the ER. After and exam, a little Motrin, X-rays of my ribs and both hands, they stuck me back in ER bay #6.

I guess it was irony, or luck - maybe even bad luck.

This was the same bay that I was in April 4th, 2011. That's the day I had congestive heart failure. It was here that my life changed forever. Well, it almost ended there too. As I sat and spoke with Ruth, we waited for the news.

What does this last stay in bay #6 mean?

I hope it is good luck for London. I am glad to report nothing is broken. My ribs hurt like hell. My hand seems to be better today. Everything else is just bumps and scrapes. Motrin is my friend. I am running London, that's for sure. I am half way to my fundraising goal of $6,000. This is my 5th of 6 world majors. Falling is just another bump in the road.

I am good at navigating bumps in the road of life. Now if I could just manage the real ones with a little more finesse.

A Little Focus Changed a Lot

I am finally getting my feet back on the ground. We had a warm winter weekend and I got in three runs! 4 miles, 5 miles and 2 miles. It is not the 15 miles which my marathon training plan called for, but I ran.

I am running the London Marathon in April and I am trying to talk my body into getting the miles up.

I had a good food and weight week as well. I lost almost 3 pounds! I logged every day - well, I think I did. I had some challenges with the take-out food which I ate with a friend, as well as having dinner with friends.

The non-alcoholic beer is a calorie waster.

I counted it as water. ;) not really. I learned that you can't control your environment all the time, so I don't take cheat days. I planned for the indulgences by skipping snacks and enjoyed myself.

If all goes well, I will be in onederland by the end of April.

As much as I miss my mother-in-law, I don't miss driving 10 hours every weekend. I have had some time to reflect, relax, remember, and finally take down the Christmas tree.

My mother once said that leaving your tree up past New Years Day was a sign of mental illness.

I won't say that, but it did stress me out a bit that I couldn't keep my house in order. None the less, I wouldn't trade those memories with Carol for anything. During this time I received a lot of nice IMs and messages. Thank you! 

Spending time with a dying person tends to put your priorities in a better place. You don't worry about a lot of things.

I think we forgot to pay a bill on time. I'll be damned, they just sent another one. Besides, I like red ink better than black ink. This past weekend we had some time to unpack from when we moved in.

I like to be organized. It makes me feel more peaceful.

Of course there are my ongoing health concerns. They also took a backseat to life. Here is an update on all that. I skipped my melanoma skin check. It's expensive and a couple of months won't matter that much. I am in for a prostate biopsy in May, so I will do the skin check at the same time. Meanwhile my PSA is down which is good! I had to stop taking medication which made me feel better because it causes bone density issues. I am still working my way through that maze.

For now, I am back at work in the office, spending time with family and friends, logging food and drink, running, working on my next book, and be grateful for the life I have.

Now if the NE Patriots would win the Super Bowl, life would be perfect.

Back in the Groove

I am finally back in the groove. I confess, I don't like how I look, how I feel, or how I am progressing. I am running and eating correctly (for me). I can only say that I am back in the groove.

They used to say if you do it for 30 days, it will become a habit.

Right now, everything is still a struggle. Walking past the goodies in the breakroom, packing my own lunches, caring about portions, scheduling my runs... I am tired before I start. It is not automatic.

I do have excuses.

Life is real. My mother-in-law passed away last weekend. We traveled the 5 hours south to be there for family, friends, and to express our own grief and sorrow. Part of my job was to support my wife, and do what I could for her family.

You don't think about logging at times like that.

Planning to eat was more trouble than it was worth. I skipped a few meals. I found the treadmill a couple of times and got the job done. The in-room hot tub was nice, and despite the circumstances, it was nice to see everyone.

Then it was off to New York City.

If it was just a regular work week, I would have taken bereavement time. Unfortunately it was very specific training for my job. The conflict was tremendous. Do I stick around and support my wife, or take this very expensive, no refund, one-of-a-kind training.

The stress piled up as I tried to be in two places at once.

On top of all that, I had to plan transportation, cancel one hotel booking, find one in NJ and rebook at a new place in New York City. I missed the first day of training. I got up at 5:15 the next day to catch the limo service to NY.

I arrived in Times Square and rolled my suitcase and laptop to the 42nd floor.

At least I could relax a little in class. I settled in and tried not to worry about the outside world. I only had to find my hotel and grab something to eat. 

My low stress moments disappeared not long after.

It seems my back-up at work went missing. This is the person that should be able to do what I do if I am not there. On top of that, two subcontractors turned in some horrendous programming code.

My phone blew up. Texts and emails came in simultaneously in the middle of training along with a voice mail.

Really, you have to text me to say that you sent an email and then call me to say that you texted me and emailed me?! I skipped breakfast and got a small lunch for the rest of the week. It was just too much trouble and I didn't feel like eating anyway...

...well, until Thursday night. That is where the filet mignon was.

All bets were off. I ate the meat, had a non-alcoholic beer - no wait, two. And the sides were fantastic. I probably didn't go over my calories, but I felt bloated.

It's time to refocus.

I am back up to 6 miles running. They were ugly, but I did it. I didn't hurt and I didn't die. Come to think of it, I didn't chafe my boy parts or chub rub either.

Life it good - well worth living.

I am looking forward to meeting a long time MFP friend in London (and her family)! It also turns out that my best friend and best man is going to be visiting his parents on race day too. Of course Ruth will be there.

I have a lot of support.

I am logging again. Well, I started back and missed doing that for a week or so. Hey, I had excuses.

Thanks for the votes and comments. You can do both.
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