I resolve to lose weight and become a faster runner. To eat healthier and get better quality
sleep. To help old ladies cross the
road. To end hunger and spread
peace. To,… to,.. OMG how am I ever
going to do all of this?!?
I'm not really a New Year's resolution type of guy. When I crossed the 160lb level and had to
start wearing the next size larger jeans, I vowed to lose weight and today am
closer to 165. That's still in the
"healthy weight" range on the BMI charts, but the trend is in the
wrong direction.
But my company shuts down over the holidays and that
gives me a chance to reflect on what my goals are and what's working and what's
not. Obviously whatever I'm doing to
lose weight is in the "not" category.
Actually, I'm not sure quite sure how the weight is supposed to come
off, as I vowed to lose weight and then kept right on with my usual eating and
exercise habits.
In truth, I have tried to cut back on my calorie intake,
but the results were not as expected. I
expected to be hungry and perhaps a bit tired.
If only it were that easy. When
in calorie deficit, my body prefers to do a good imitation of fibromyalgia
combined with depression. As a result,
everything hurts and any activity that might result in a single extra calorie
being burned seems pointless.
It's also true that "lose weight" and
"become a faster runner" are at odds with each other. Building muscle generally requires a caloric
surplus and hard running. Even with the
calorie surplus, all the hard running will lead to joint and muscle pain and a
temporary diminishment of enthusiasm for, well, everything. Running hard while in calorie deficit is just
asking for trouble.
It's quite the quandary without any easy answers. My latest experiment was limiting myself to
only two slices of pepperoni pizza, then getting up from in front of the TV and
organizing my sock drawer. That's not
the sexy answer that will sell a diet book, but it is an incremental change that
seems to work in reality. As a bonus, I
can now spend more time running and less time looking for a matching pair of
socks.
