Life Is Good Thant Way

Tonight was one of those rare, deeply satisfying moments you wish would never end. Michelle and I sat outside and enjoyed a wonderful New York Strip dinner and then watched the sun settle over the fence. It's not often you can say there's nowhere I'd rather be, so I cherish the moment. 

Good food, good music and good company equal a life well lived.   

Before surgery I lamented the loss of food. I shouldn't have worried. My tastes have changed. My priorities have changed. My love of good food has matured. I'd rather have three or four ounces of a quality cut than a slab of something that covers the plate. I'd rather have a slice of crusty whole wheat bread and a dab of real butter than a baked potato with the works. 

And, I'd rather listen to Nora Jones and watch the sun set with Michelle than be anywhere else. 

Life is good that way.

She's Right (Again, Still, Always)

Me: “Michelle, I (pulled something running, fell off my bike, strained my back getting out of bed) hurt myself.”

Michelle: “Well, you’re (a silly, foolish, moronic man) not thirty anymore.”

Oh course I’m not thirty anymore. It’s a good thing too; when I was thirty my life was a train wreck. We are born into innocence and vitality, which starts to deteriorate almost immediately. Unfortunately, for most men like me, emotional maturity and wisdom from life doesn't happen until… I’m still waiting, but I’m pretty confident it’s coming. A fact helps explain why I stumble through life clueless most of the time. And my wife thought I was just (silly, moronic, foolish), there’s actually a very excellent explanation!   

And so I enter my second day of NOT running. According to my wife, this is all due to the fact I’m not thirty anymore.

As is typical in our relationship, she’s right (again, still, always).  

You'd Think, Right?

Yesterday, coming up 25th Street from the waterfront, I felt a 'ping' in my left calf. I should have immediately stopped running, but I didn't. By the time I got to the top of the hill and turned down Colby I knew I had a problem. I should have called Michelle to come get me, or at least walked the last half mile home, but I didn't. There is something askew in my reptilian brain; something that says press on, don't quit, no pain, no gain. 

Today I can hardly walk, which translates: all pain, no gain, STUPID!

It's not the pain that hurts; that's what Advil and ice are for. In fact a little muscle soreness now and again is good; reminds you that your working out and all the working parts are working. What really hurts is knowing I can't, or at least shouldn't run for a couple of weeks while my body heals. What makes me crazy in my head is knowing what should be two or three weeks of mending is probably going to drag on for months because I am A) too suborn and B) too stupid to stop running until I an fully healed. I wish I could say otherwise, but past history indicates.

I am seriously going to try to do this right. I'd rather run, but it looks like a couple of weeks in the pool staring at the black line. Black line, breath; black line, breath; black line, breath, turn; black line, breath; boring. 

I really do want to do this right. I have some goals for later this summer and fall and this could either be an annoying set-back or a deal killer.

I'll go with annoying set-back, thank you. 

Wait, I've been so busy with my little pity-party I forgot to mention the good news. I've lost 112 pounds so far and I can run again! 

That should help keep me in focus; you'd think, right?   

      

Running Towards Life

I'm a list making, note taking kind of guy. I've been keeping a journal of life's highs and lows, with a few breaks in the deepest of valleys, for nearly twenty four years. 

On November 13, 1991, I recorded a soul crushing weight of 250.25 pounds; lamented the state my life my life and determined to make positive and lasting changes. Had I known these were the good old times; had I a clue of what I was to go through down the road of life or that my weight would top 320 pounds, I might have thrown in the towel right then and there. 

That entry: 250.25, began a season of physical activity and determination that carried me through to Thursday, July 23, 1992, when I recorded a weight of 196.5. 1992 was a good year. I ran the Skagit Flats marathon. I rode the Apple Cup Century ride. I ran, rode, swam daily. Looking back I realize my personal life was a train-wreck and I kept my sanity through exercise. As soon as I found the stability and contentment I craved, my focus changed direction and the pounds crept back; slowly at first and then with a vengeance. 

In looking back through my journals, that is the lowest weight I have recorded; until Thursday, this week - twenty three years later. My weight is currently 195.8 pounds. 

My life has come full circle. This morning as I reflect on the past twenty years and all we've been through I can't help but smile. Who I am today is shaped by life's experiences; the good, the bad the terrible. I am no longer running to escape life's circumstances. I no longer crave unconditional love; I hold her hand and kiss her cheek every chance I get. 

I am running again, but it's different now. I run because I can. I run for the sheer pleasure of the experience. I am no longer running away. 

I run towards life. 

Nobody's Perfect

Some are flawed more than others; I more than most.

There is no reset or do-over in life. I can't go back and undo every stupid thing I've ever done. I would if I could, but I can't, so my focus is today and tomorrow.

Sometimes you run into a situation where someone can't let go of the past. To them you are who you were and not who you are. I am determined to be a better person each day. If I can't be judged by who I am, it's not my burden to carry.

I wish I could reintroduce myself.

I am Linn; flawed, broken, determined, hopeful, optimistic.

I am Linn living large.

I Choose Well

I like food.

There, I said it. I know that will surprise some and disappoint others, but it’s the truth. It may appear to be an oxymoron to proclaim a love of food and significant weight loss in the same breath, but it’s not. It’s the difference between quality verses quantity.

When I weighed in excess of three hundred and twenty pounds I ate, a lot. I found the bottom of every bag of chips I ever opened. It didn't matter if it was Doritos or prime rib; I wasn't done until the last morsel had succumbed to my voracious appetite. It was all about filling the void and I was never full.

Fast forward to the new surgically modified me and the story is different. Twice in the past nine months I have ignored the ‘I’m getting full’ warning signal and paid the price. Not to be too graphic or gross, but the price is an immediate and full expulsion of all stomach contents; so much for quantity. I may be an old dog, but I can learn.

If my new capacity is limited to a few bites, I’m going to be pretty choosy about what I eat; hence quality. I've even taken a bite of something and then thought; nope, not worth it and discretely deposited it in a napkin. Not in public of course, but I’m not about to waste my limited capacity on a stale cookie. I love food and I’m learning to respect me. I’d rather have a few bites of something really good than be full on junk. My stomach capacity is the same either way so I might as well choose wisely.

My tastes and views concerning food have changed greatly during this journey. If anything, I enjoy food more now. Eating is not a conquest. I’m not in a hurry to find the bottom of the bag and then go looking for more. I am able to slow down and savor what I choose to eat.

I choose well, because I love food.

Face Yourself

One year ago today I made a decision. 

I made a decision to take control of my eating, my weight, my life. I made a decision to have weight loss surgery. 

The decision was a process; years of dieting and frustration, years of slipping further and further from myself, one pound after another. I wanted change. I dreamed of change. It wasn't until I faced the simple truth: I can't do this myself. I need help. 

Enough is enough. We all have our limits. I had to find mine. It's a negative space where you are caught between the dread of your current situation and the fear of the unknown future. 

For me, it all comes down to this present moment. Yesterday is gone. Tomorrow may never be. What can I do right now, today? When I stay in the moment, I find peace. I make the decision before me. It's as simple as cookies or yogurt; next.  

If you want, desire, need change in your life, only you can make the decision. My advice: turn you back on yesterday. Stop worrying about tomorrow. Face yourself. Face your fears. Face today. 

To be honest, to be fair, I'd like to take a moment and thank my wife. Without her love and patience, without her hand to hold and shoulder to cry on, without her irrepressible sense of humor it wouldn't be the same journey. I am eternally grateful for her unconditional love and support. I love you, Michelle.