BDays & personal transformation

February 21st, 2021. 

My bestie's annual celebration of appearance in this world and the greatest excuse ever made to indulge the sweet tooth urges! She is my shining star, the hitch in my giddy'up, the apple of my eye, the ying to my yang. LOVE only partially describes the depth of emotion I have for her. I will be forever grateful that she chose me to grow wrinkled and grey with, and for our incredible children she protected and nurtured so willingly and selflessly.

Around about 365 days backwards, give or take a few, Joyce and I decided that we really desired a change in how we saw our journey proceeding through life's pathways. The kids were out marching down their own personal pathways, retirement celebrations had passed, and it was going to be just the two of us for much of the rest of whatever time we still had. The decision was not made quickly, occupying the duration of walks that were a daily component of our post-retirement vacation in the sunny south. Although I had previously taken a journey toward a healthier me starting in 2013, the oh-so-familiar roller coaster ride had resulting in an another 40-60 lbs discovering my lair in a tragic game of girth Hide 'n Seek.

We both knew what had led to our unsatisfactory state of being, so identifying the actual steps required to make the change was simple enough. Southwestern Florida is not really a great place to start a dietary transformation, the peddling of delicacies and treats are a MAJOR business, but we also knew that a change in diet was not going to suffice as the sole vehicle of improvement. We embraced the idea of adopting a more active lifestyle using sustained hikes and bike rides as the preferred choices. 

I avoided the scale but there was no hiding my 280-290 lbs from the mirror.

Being blessed with the genetic disposition to release the stranglehold my belly had on those lbs, our efforts started to show more quickly in my mirror than in Joyce's, but since my girth was far more pronounced than hers, it made sense. She was more determined then than I had seen her in our previous 35 or so years together. As the time drew near signalling the northward journey home, we knew that we had 27 or hours of driving to have lengthy brainstorming sessions about what the program would resemble once we were home.

We arrived home on March 6th, 2020, the panic of the novel coronavirus hung in the air like a soupy fog, and the lockdown began on March 17th. We were faced with making these life-altering changes in the midst of a stay-at-home order.

Step #1 was the dietary part. It was fairly simple, to be honest. For both of us the elephant in the room was portion size. Personally, I have always claimed that I had never accidentally eaten anything in my life, so eschewing the need to feel full after each dinner was paramount to success. 

Step #2 was the habit part. For both of us, was mentally locking the cupboards and fridge at 7:00 pm, since we both embraced the late-night, in-front-of-the-TV snacking trend. 

Step #3 was to address the activity requirement. We became each other's willpower compass and continued our daily walks, but we also took to daily sessions of resistance training. I was using the rubber tubing, stability balls and paint cans already in the house, while Joyce was following a YouTube program. 

Step #4 was consistency. Something I knew was key, having ventured down this road so many times before, was finding was to avoid excuses to not do it. While we had already discovered the pleasure of hikes in the beauty of Barrie and Simcoe County, we also chose to use our bicycles to get out in the sunshine and get those heart rates up, in a low impact sort of way, because I had gone back to running only to injure a meniscus.

Little did I know that fate was lurking just beyond my sight, waiting for a chance to significantly alter my life's choices. 

Two summers ago, I convinced Joyce to purchase "decent" bikes for each of us. They were affectionately coined Hybrids, but to us they were simply trail bikes. Hefting my 280 lbs onto the precarious perch that is the bike saddle meant that there was a lot of pressure going through a sensitive portion of my nether region. As regular readers of this Blog know, I slipped back into my familiar creed of "Go Hard or Go Home" by methodically upping the KMs of each ride. 

It was not an enjoyable affair, but I was seeing a change in the mirror.

A month into the lock down, we were both seeing the results of our labours, and our joint ventures now included hauling the bikes to a variety of new locations for rides, like the photo here at the beach in Thornbury.

As a consequence of those escapades, I connected with acquaintances who were avid cyclists as they introduced me to the phenomenon of Social Rides. It was still a chore to haul by smaller, but still significant, belly around the county, but I could feel the "dog on a bone" mentality growing steadily with each week. As the lockdown continued, and spring gave way to summer, the combination of shrinkage plus nether region fitness resulted in a swelling sense of enjoyment.

Was I becoming a cyclist? Hadn't I made fun of MAMILS for so many years?

The answer to that pressing reality arrived in August when I convinced Joyce that I had to upgrade the tools of the trade, resulting in an investment in a true road bike ... a carbon framed Ridley Damocles ... that was purchased from a cycling friend who was looking to upgrade his own ride. That purchase coincided with the decision to join the Great Canadian Cycling Challenge, a fund raising venture aimed at injecting much needed funds into Sick Kids Hospital. Take an addictive personality, combine it with a steeled desire to change, spice it with a vehicle for public scrutiny, then top it off with an activity that turbocharges the fat burning machine inside, and you get the recipe for significant change. 

The transformation was noticeable. Actually, so noticeable that Joyce was now lamenting that I was getting too skinny because hugging me she found her hands extended past each other, going further up her arms, instead of finger tips straining to touch. I consoled her that the cold weather was coming and I would eventually have to put the bike away, meaning that the possibility of the process reversing during the winter months was a threat, despite the massive positive changes in our dietary habits. 

Enter Kevin Simms, my go-to bike guru. I would have to "eat crow" again.

I had embraced the Bike Life, but had been vocal that I would have to take something else up in the snowy Canadian winter because I couldn't fathom sitting on a bike in the basement, spinning away the hours like some demented madman. Kevin was chiding me into trying an indoor trainer and the on-line cycling community of Zwift as a way to continue what I had started, but I had serious doubts. He sweetened the deal by offering me the loan of a trainer for the winter. I still voiced opposition.

I really should learn to shut my mouth. I just sound like a complete moron at times.

Long story short, we arrive at 365 days later, 65-70 lbs gone, and I daily descend into my subterranean "Pain Cave" in my love affair with my Ridley. My addiction is shifting ... I am far more concerned about my Watts and FTP than I am about my waistline. I am thrilled that my fitness is improving, my HR lowering, my joints less creaky.

I love that I am no longer struggling with clothing.
I love that I am no longer filled with indigestion and heartburn.
I love that I am no longer giving in to stress induced binge eating.
I love that we both are happier with how we feel about ourselves.
I love that we can enjoy Life's simple pleasures together.
I love that we are doing this together.

I'm still on that roller coaster ... but it's slowing down ... and I might be able to get off sometime in the near future. For both our sake, I hope I can persevere in hopes that we have a long time together.