I'm in Portland and I'm not doing a damn thing.
Here's the place I hope to track what I can do to get myself moving each day. It's not been a problem until now. Up until a about two years ago, running, cycling, and swimming filled my movement needs, subbing in for the surfing that I love. What happened? A combination of things put me in this spot. Probably first was the fact I hit my forties. Not too far in I was driving my car up Grand Avenue in Portland and a woman ran a red light and hit me, knocking me unconscious for fifteen minutes and erasing my recall for about half the day. In the ambulance, riding to the hospital I finally recalled my name. Later my address came back.
A few weeks into my recovery the mother of my two youngest children moved out and began a two-year long custody battle to try and strip my kids out of my life.
So, here I am, forty pounds overweight and a couple thousand miles from warm ocean waves. Normally, I'd just start paddling out each morning and getting my fitness back that way. My favorite wave is about a half-mile out and takes at least fifteen minutes to paddle to, even when my fitness is at it's peak.
My friend Sarah has started her blog and is calling me up every so often to run. I've done a few with her, but I fear that at this weight, running is probably asking for an injury. I'm giving her the credit, however, since this past weekend I ran and hurt the whole time, but when I was driving home I felt that lovely blissful feeling I get after a great physical discharge. Runner's high? Maybe, I don't know, but I get it and I like it.
So, I've got a set of weights and a bench in the garage and a couple of bikes on the wall. There's a swimming pool five minutes away and my work is far enough away to make the commute a good workout possibility.
Now it starts.