I returned about an hour ago from a great swim in the pool. Another 108 laps, or 1.5 miles, which replicates what I did on Tuesday and has kind of transformed my "long" days into something that I can repeat 2 or 3 times a week.
Both Tuesday and today I was in the pool for an hour and 40 minutes and did the 108 laps nonstop without any break. Back in my running days, running for that long a time, on the clock, was close enough to a "long run" that I certainly was not doing anything that long more than once a week. That amount of time on the clock meant a run of 10-12 miles at my leisurely pace, and that was as much as I did except in the final weeks of training for a marathon, when I trained properly as I did in '78, '93, and '94.
So the astonishing thing, at least to me, is that I have been able in a little less than two months (since I first jumped into the pool on May 19) to build up my conditioning as a swimmer to the point where I can sustain a workout of one hour and 40 minutes without a break.
I just looked up the relative calorie counts of swimming and running and they are pretty close: I am probably burning off a little over 1200 calories during a 1.5 mile swim, or about 120 calories per 10 minutes. If I run for an hour and 40 minutes I will burn off 1500 calories, but the problem is that I will also be on crutches in the morning.
During my best workouts on a treadmill or elliptical machine over the past few years, I might have approached burning off 1,000 calories, but not often.
So this swimming thing is working for me.
Don't get me wrong. It wears me out, even when Marilyn is not there, and I sleep like a baby. But it doesn't beat me up, so the result is that I can do these long swims a few times a week, and get into better and better shape.
For each set of three 1.5 mile swimming workouts I do, that's 3,600 calories. And 3,500 calories equals one pound of body weight, gained or lost, for us humans.
I can do the math, and I'll keep coming.
Thursday, July 16
Night Swimming
Tuesday, July 14
Unspeakable sadnesses - Originally posted to BMGS 1.0 - Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Update, July 14, 2009: Another busy day, but I noticed something especially nice when I was in the kitchen this morning brewing my second cup. For no particular reason I raised my right knee so that my thighs were parallel to the kitchen floor. Then I lowered it and did the same with my 
left knee.
No big deal, right?
Except that it is a big deal, to me. Both movements were effortless, with no propping myself up, no effort, no nuthin.
I may still be a long way from joining my pal at her weekly yoga class, but this little experience in my kitchen this morning demonstrates a level of flexibility that, frankly, I have not experienced in years. I don't know if it comes from losing 20 pounds or from all the swimming. Probably both. In any case, I will take it gladly, and keep at the regimen.
Big Man Getting Flexible! Yeah!
Unspeakable sadnesses
Originally posted to BMGS 1.0 - Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Jeesh, is this what being in my late 50s is going to be like?
Yesterday I learned that a good friend from high school, Chris Kennedy, died of prostate cancer over the weekend.
A week ago, Randy Barnett died of a heart attack in his sleep at the age of 56. He and I knew each other only by telephone, where we had co-managed a fantasy baseball team years ago, but he was one of the best friends of one of my best friends, Larry Ginsburg.
They were both good and decent men, and they will both be missed. They both lived full and satisfying lives, but lives that were way too short.
When I was 14 I worked as a dishwasher at LaRochelle's Restaurant in East Sandwich, and my first real life mentor was the cook, Nick. He was a wise and interesting man who had been an actor until he was blacklisted and lost that career. He was, then, about my age now or a little bit older, and during his break every day he would sit at a table in the kitchen and read the obituaries. "Just keeping up with old friends," he would tell me.
I lost track of Nick, but I am starting to understand what he was doing on his break.
There's not a lot you can do, I suppose. When it's your time, it's your time. Randy smoked cigarettes, but otherwise he was in great shape, an athlete.
But we keep doing what we can. About 18 months ago, during a routine physical, I had a blood test come back that showed me at the bottom edge of the gray area for a heightened risk for, and possibility of, prostate cancer. I had follow-up exams that were inconclusive, and decided against a biopsy. Instead, after talking at length with three doctors, I decided on an approach that had the additional felicity of being called "watchful waiting."
I did more than wait. I read extensively in Phyllis Balch's Nutritional Healing book, cut way back on red meat and other problematic foods and began getting a lot of lycopene, fish oil and flaxseed oil into my diet. My numbers gradually moved back from the risky "gray area" to the safe area, and have stayed there as I have watched them since.
Yesterday I heard about a new study demonstrating a linkage between obesity and prostate cancer, so there's one more addition to the many reasons for the Big Man to Get Smaller.
Both my parents died in their 50s, but I expect, perhaps without supporting evidence, to live much longer. I don't think there is any real point in trying to organize one's entire life around the desire to live longer. I probably wouldn't be much good at it anyway. I want to live a long time, but even more than that I want to enjoy better health during whatever days I have left. Inner and outer health, I believe, are major keys to happiness.
When Larry came up for Randy's memorial we made plans to have breakfast. Then like an idiot I let work deadlines get ahead of me and I had to cancel at the last minute, which was a real failure to prioritize what is important.
It isn't easy to balance everything. There are so many things one must do to live a healthy life, inner and outer. It seems like there are a lot more of them than there used to be. There's work, family responsibilities, the laundry, and the daily administrative details like paying one's bills, getting to the bank, picking up groceries.
Now, in addition to all these other things, I have to add reading the obituaries. And mourning guys who were only 56 or 57.
But I am not complaining. Not even whining. I'm still here, grateful to be here, and daily more mindful that there is richness and soulfulness and even, sometimes, a path to joy, or a fleeting instant of possible awareness, in the unspeakable sadnesses of everyday life.
I thought some of you might be interested in sources of information about the Writers Guild of America (WGA) strike. Here are some links:
A petition of support:
http://www.PetitionOnline.com
A short presentation outlining the essential issues:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v
On-going LA Times coverage of the strike:
http://latimesblogs.latimes
UnitedHollywood.com blog:
http://unitedhollywood.blogspo
WGA, West Home Page:
http://www.wga.org/index.aspx
Steve also suggests this a site for good coverage of the strike developments:
For the best coverage of both sides people out here are going to Nikki Finke of LA Weekly. Her blog is deadlinehollywooddaily.com
***************
Two songs today, both written by heroes of mine. This first one would be a perfect fit for today's post even if Harry Chapin had not died at the age of 38 in the Summer of '81.
The other song was written by a great man named Si Kahn, an organizing mentor and colleague to me and many others as well as a terrific singer-songwriter and author. It's covered by Michael Johnathon.
Monday, July 13
Embracing the solitude - Originally posted to BMGS 1.0 Saturday, November 10, 2007
Feeling at least half better today, which I will take. I'm down a pound to 240 even, the lowest I have been, after too many days on a plateau. So I am pleased about that, too.
The fact that the scale registers a pound lower probably has a lot to do with the fact that I've been eating like a sick person the last couple of days, with lots of soup and yogurt.
But that's okay, I'll accept credit for eating healthy, even if I didn't have my usual appetite. Frankly, just between you and me, there have been plenty of times when I have been sick in the past, felt lousy, and used it as an excuse to pig out.
Or, just as easily, I could have gone to one of my all-time favorite ways of coping with a cold, come the evening hours: copious amounts of rum and orange juice, in progressively stronger doses. It really does help one glide through a cold's symptoms, as long as one does not have to drive or take care of small children, etc. I heartily recommend it, and as I was driving home from hanging with Danny a little after 6 yesterday evening I gave serious thought to stopping at the packie.
But the rum and orange juice cure is not generally meant to be taken in moderation. At the very least I would have had 3 stiff drinks, which would have netted me 1200 calories. More likely, I would have finished the rum and the orange juice, and blamed it on the cold.
So taking care of myself, instead, is the right way to go. Being able to do that, and having confidence that I will continue to do it, is all about having this blog to report to each day. It makes a huge difference to know that I am committed to my daily target of about 1750 calories, and likewise to know that I will report here with a truthful summary of the day's calorie events.
In the process, I am also, I think, strengthening my daily routines. Which beings me back to somebody I wanted to write a little bit about today.
Pat B. is one of my favorite people at my Thursday night Gamblers Anonymous meeting. During the 8:30 break this week she came over and sat down next to me. "You know, we should really talk some time about what it is like to be in this program when you live alone," she said.
Now I am going to jump tracks back from gambling to eating and health, and just say that Pat is about as healthy a 78-year-old as I have known. She just exudes good health, and she is an inspiration. She builds her life around healthy daily routines, and gets up every morning to a breakfast of yogurt, nuts and berries every morning between 5:30 and 6 a.m.
There's a beauty that people have, that radiates from the inside out, when they take good care of themselves from the inside out. Pat definitely has it, although she also has plenty of strength: witness the fact that she almost always joins the guys moving tables and chairs back into place after each meeting.
Living alone makes things easy sometimes, and more difficult other times. Right now I am embracing my solitude, and gaining a lot from it. Drawing inspiration from other people who have done very well at living healthy lives while living alone, like Pat B. and my sister Deborah, helps me with these gains.
So, nothing earthshaking here, but to put it very simply, one of the things that I hope to build in myself as I continue with Big Man Getting Smaller is a daily life whose foundation is based on healthy routines like the ones that are the cornerstones of Pat's days. And yesterday I picked up some berries and yogurt, rather than rum and orange juice.
When I am back at full strength I'm planning to write a post about an inspiring friend of mine named Pat, but for now I'll just share some music: "Free Bird" by Lynyrd Skynyrd, hoping it will help me kick this scum-of-the-earth virus that has plagued me the past couple of days.
1 comments:
Thursday, June 18
Off to a good start, and "A fundamental struggle - Originally posted to BMGS 1.0 October 21, 2007"
A fundamental struggle
30 pounds today, which pleases me much more than 29.5.
I seem to have moved beyond a little plateau, by drilling down on the basic elements that have been working for BMGS these past 7+ weeks: pay attention to the calories, and work them off. I shall keep it up.
It seems from the emails I get that nearly all my 50-something male friends are fighting the good fight when it comes to weight. We can do this. There are powerful forces working against us, but together we can fight the power!
To succeed, for me, it has required that I treat this struggle as if it was really, really important. There are ways in which I think it is important, but others in which I know it is trivial. But if I let it become trivial for me, I will fail.
My pal Stewart wrote the other day about the importance, also, of focusing on the things that are really important:
“Do good. We really are in fundamental struggle for soul and future of this country and our kids. Weigh in. We need your voice--in big fights and little ones. For instance, great news about Merle Haggard. Every word and action for democracy and people and justice matters today--great or small. Don't mean to meddle or tell you how to spend your time. But you have a gift for writing. People will read what you write. Values matter more now than ever. The country hungers for honorable and fundamental values and for folks to voice those values.”
Word.
He is right about every bit of it, and I accept the responsibility and the challenge, even as I am still feeling my way into acting on that acceptance again after lo these many years.
That said, I am drawn for a moment back to trivia.
A good night for the Boston 9 last night. Their $70-million right fielder redeemed himself after a season that had some fans calling him Nancy Drew rather than J.D. Drew. (Not me, I am a Nancy Drew fan). Tonight their $103-million #3 starting pitcher has a similar opportunity. They put it away so early and easily last night that I was able to vacate the bar sometime in the 4th inning. This was a good thing. I had worked out at the gym shortly before the game, and consequently was more than a little thirsty. Bud Light is probably not the right way to rehydrate, but it was cold and good, and I had allotted myself the calories for 4 pints. Problem was, at the rate of the pint per inning that I was sucking down, I don’t think I could have gone the full 9 innings if my team had needed me.
I first heard today’s soundtrack back in the mid-80s when I owned a community bookstore called the Dorchester Reading Authority. I used to play a Celtic music show on the weekend, which may have been a precursor of some kind to Brian O’Donovan’s program, and this song seemed to get play every week. Well-deserved play.
Go Sox!
I'm trying not to use sex to sell this blog, but tonight it is important to stand up for what is right.
Soundtrack for Sunday
The song was written about 25 years ago by a fellow named Peter Jones, and this recording features Robbie O'Connell, Mick Moloney and Jimmy Keane.
"I go to encounter for the millionth time the reality of experience and to forge in the smithy of my soul the uncreated conscienc
I try to imagine solitude... living as I do with my son, husband, 3 cats, 2 dogs and a parakeet. I wonder what it would be like to sit at my computer in the living room and write without having to block the loud TV not 10 feet away, or the sound of the snoring hubby in front of said TV...
I fantasize about someday living here alone... or perhaps in New York in a little studio apartment. I wonder what it would be like to never have to come home because someone expected me home... to go to a bar on the way home or to go to a friend's and spend the night without even having to call home to explain...
Donna