20 in 20

For those of you who have seen me recently, it should come as no surprise that I have put on quite a significant amount of weight in the past year. Something like 20 pounds, at least 15. The final year of graduate school was not kind to my waistline. The combination of apathy toward running, energy drinks, and whiskey added up to a spare tire. I had expected the open schedule of graduate school to usher in an era of 60+ miles per week running and a few mornings of weightlifting on top of that. Alas, for reasons discussed in my last post, this did not happen.

So here I am now. And what to do, but contrive some silly goal for losing weight. Long-time readers will recall my total sweet fast in 2008. This time I have decided to lose 20 pounds in 20 weeks and take a 20 mile run on the last day of this program. Depending on how running goes I will come up with a time goal for the run (ideally sub 2:30). 

I started last week. I am not sure I have lost my pound yet, but I imagine I am close. There is something about having a goal, though. Clara and Owen flew to Denver last Thursday morning for a 10 day trip leaving me bereft and alone in an unfamiliar place. I am quite jealous. They are all camping in the Tetons for the next several days. Anyway, on my first night alone I got home from work a bit exhausted and sullen. I started watching Season One of Deadwood on my laptop and was eating some mint chocolate chip ice cream. It occurred to me as I lay there that this was no way to lose 20 pounds in 20 weeks. So I got off the couch, laced up the running shoes and drove to Turkey Mountain, a paradise in the middle of Tulsa with over 40 miles of dirt trails for running, biking, and hiking. And I ran. I ran till I puked (the two cigarettes and bag of gummy bears that I consumed during the working day combined with the ice cream created a foul mixture), and then I ran some more. It was 100 degrees out and I could wring sweat out of my clothes when I finished, but I loved it. There were times when I was in tune with the trail, using the rocks on the trail as springboards, deftly skipping over tree roots. I also fell twice. But, again, I loved it. I smiled most of the time (especially after puking). I felt that I had accomplished something, when really all that I did was run through the woods for an hour. And what had been a sad day was transformed.

This is all to say that the goal in this next 20 weeks has very little to do with weight. Fit is a feeling. A great feeling. One worth chasing. Preferably through the woods.