Re-post sans photos: Running and running away

I've been trying to get back into shape and have hitting the gym pretty hard in the last week.

If you do not know my fitness/health history, here it is in a nutshell: In 2000, when I was 23, I was a 310-lb vegetarian. Yes, I spent most of college eating pizza and drinking Mountain Dew. When I began student teaching, I started going to the gym every day, and doing other healthy things, like eating a balanced diet and eating breakfast. I dropped about 50 lbs that year (2000-2001). The year I started teaching in Baltimore, I continued my daily morning workouts, and got myself down to about 190-195 lbs at about the halfway point of my second year teaching. In January of 2003, I was probably in the best shape of my life. I was lifting weights every day and doing 45-60 minutes of cardio and felt great. It was never about weight; it was always about health, and I was healthy. And pretty buff, too. And wore a size-32 jeans.

In the Fall of 2003, I had my big health scare of the spontaneous double retinal detachment. Since I was under doctor's orders not to exercise for a month, and didn't feel good for a bit longer than that, it derailed my fitness, as did getting the head baseball coaching gig later that school year. I probably gained around 15-20 pounds that year, putting me at 210 or so. I'm pretty sure this photo is from that summer... at one of my fittest points, but not at my utmost fittest:

That summer, I got the second job waiting tables, and have kept that second job for the last five years. While I've still managed to go to the gym most days, I'm no longer in shape; I've probably put on around 10 lbs a year since then, putting me at around 235-240 most of the time these days. It's kind of sickening, actually - here I was, so proud to have lost 120 lbs, and now I've gained 40 or 50 of it back.

I've been at around the same weight for a year or two. Again, I don't really care about my weight too much - if I did, I'd look at my BMI and realize that even at the best shape of my life, when I was 190, I was still classified as well into the "overweight" range, and be disheartened. It's all about health, and feeling good, and confidence that comes with that. Confidence that, frankly, I really miss.

So I'd love to get back in shape. Last summer, I was doing real well, running ten or twelve miles a week, but I suffered a stress fracture in my foot and a year of problems with that right foot. My foot has felt good in the last few months, though, so I've tentatively started running again. A 1-mile run on Wednesday. A 2-mile run yesterday. A 1.5-mile run today. I'll push myself bit by bit, and hopefully begin to increase my mileage. When I was in the best shape of my life, I was running a lot, and want to do that again. I'm still lifting, and hope to make my body into more of a fat-burning machine than it has been. I'm also trying to eat better, and have been buying (and eating) expensive bags of vegetables to snack on instead of my usual cheese or the Baked Doritos I've been sort of addicted to since the winter.

The running came in handy tonight, as Holden ran off again (if you missed it, the same thing happened last July 4, and Holden was gone for about 3 days... I put up fliers and the old man who had found him called me, returning him safely). I heard some fool setting off fireworks in the neighborhood, and was trying to ignore it as I graded essays, when I heard the fence clanging in the backyard. I thought my roommate was coming home and entering through the back, but didn't see her - just saw the gate open. I then suddenly realized that Holden was outside, and figure out that he had gotten out, freaked out (again) by the fireworks. I ran as fast as I could after him, never catching sight of him, but hearing from several people on the street that he was going "that a-way", so I kept running and running. It was scary, because I was heading through rat-infested alleys with change jangling and it was fairly late - not really safe city behavior - but people kept telling me he was heading west so I kept running. I was on Bel-Air Rd., heading towards Erdman, and I was thinking the worst thoughts of me finding his body in the road, or of some teenagers trying out some fireworks on him. I finally headed back home, calling his name, looking under porches. I probably ran another 2 miles (on top of the gym run earlier).

When I returned home, a guy had called my cell phone. He lived across Bel-Air, off of Erdman, across from the golf course, and Holden - who has all his tags, including one with my phone number on it - had followed him home while he was walking his dog. Holden was on the front porch waiting for me when I drove up there, and he hasn't left my side since. Now, I've got to figure out how this can never happen again. I had thought the time before that someone had messed with the fence, but now it's clear that Holden can get out when he's freaked out, and that can't happen. It's good to have him home, though, and I'm thankful the 3 days it was last July was just 30 minutes this time around.