Donnie...alive and well in the North Country

Tuesday, July 28, 2015
I’d put the air conditioner on Sunday and now I was really, really happy about it.  The high reached into the low 90’s, which is about thirty degrees over my ideal and way too hot for working outdoors…or painting…two things I had scheduled for the day.  I did the working at the farm and told the person for whom I was planning to start staining a handicapped ramp that it would have to wait.

I received a voicemail from my cousin Donnie, who had recently been in a pretty serious motorcycle accident and had just been laying low and resting his brain, which had blood on it.  “I’m on Giant.  Where the hell are you?  The spandex looks great from up here,” he said.  He realized early on that one of the great benefits of going to the Adirondacks is seeing very fit women in climbing clothes.  I called him back.

“I’m guessing you won’t be joining me in the Adirondacks this weekend,” I said. 

“And I won’t be making a trip to Ohio in two weeks, either,” he said.  He was still in a lot of pain, but recovering.  He described the malfunctioning of the braking system on his motorcycle and the ensuing crash at 45 mph.  “I guess I’m kind of lucky to be alive,” he concluded.

My son, Jason, had recently bought a motorcycle and it had gotten me to thinking about it again.  I’m pretty sure Donnie’s accident will keep me on the sidelines…or on the non-motorized two-wheelers for a little longer.

“Are you up to a visit?  I could swing through after climbing Saturday and sleep over.  You could probably use a good smoothie and some French toast, too,” I said.  Well…maybe I thought the last part, but he loves my French toast slathered in maple syrup and butter, but who wouldn’t?

I’m hoping for a workout tomorrow when LuAnn and Kristen come over for a Survival Workout and a pasta/movie night.  We’ll be watching ‘Frequency’ and eating spaghetti with garlic toast.  It’s supposed to be in the nineties again, so I’m not so sure a hard workout would be the best way to spend the afternoon, but it would be a good chance for them to see my course and we could always finish with a dunk in Clear Creek.  Two days left for the heel to heal.

Another off day...

Monday, July 27, 2015
I came to work limping more than I have since I got the cortisone shot.  Either my memory isn’t serving me correctly (a very distinct possibility) or it is taking longer to get to the part where, as the doc said, “it’ll hurt more for a few days and then start feeling lots better.”

I’d worked over the weekend and the Farm’s policy is that they want me to take days off to compensate…and the sooner, the better.  I wasn’t planning on taking it off, but after limping around for an hour, I waited for my Monday help, Mitch, and laid out all I wanted him to do that day.  Before I could get out the door though, the typical happened.

“John…there’s a hydrant leaking over by Dodge’s stall and the volunteers are getting wet when they use it,” one of the horse handlers explained.

“Have them stand off to the side and the spray will miss them,” I suggested.  She didn’t smile.

I told Mitch how to fix the issue and climbed in the Camry.  I’d missed both weekend opportunities to have breakfast at Kleifeld’s because of work and decided it was time.  I called my sister and told her I’d be there in thirty minutes.

After a good ham and cheese omelet and six cups of coffee, I drove home and spent the rest of the day nursing my foot.  I did organize my camping gear, but essentially figured either I would give the heel the rest it required or I wouldn’t be doing any hiking.  At the very least though, I’d camp near a mountain stream, bring along my journal to write, a book to read and my camera to catch some of the magnificent scenery and just relax. 

No exercise...more whining

Sunday, July 26, 2015
I returned to the farm Sunday morning to finish the hydrant project we’d begun the day before.  I asked Justin to do most of the walking to retrieve tools as my heel was worse than ever.  We had down time when the plumber realized he needed a fitting he would have to return to his shop to retrieve, so spent frustrating time trying to identify the myriad of water shut-off valves in our main supply closet and what they actually shut off.  Amazingly, after twenty years in operation, none had ever been labeled. 

Once the plumber returned and repaired the leak, we backfilled our hole with gravel, tamped it down and covered where once there was concrete with the horse mats.  “I’m pretty sure you and I are the only ones who will know and the next time repair work needs to be done, we’ll do it without a jack hammer,” I said.

My heel was on fire, but like the man I am, I whined only constantly as I drove to the store to pick up burgers for dinner.  On the ride, I called Jason.  “Would you mind coming over a little early and cooking the burgers?  My heel is killing me and I’d like to just put it on ice once I get home,” I said.

“Dad...is that you?  Sounds like a little girl whining, is all,” he replied.

I could use a little respect, but don’t expect to get it from the people who know me well.

I wrapped my heel in ice at 2:30 and kept it there until I couldn’t feel anything below the ankle.  I managed to go over my Adirondack High Peaks trail guide and figure out where I’d be hiking next Friday.  It was looking more and more like I’d be going alone and with the heel issue, I decided that I’d keep it to a shorter, less formidable hike, instead of the 15-miler I’d planned for Mt. Seward.  I think I’ll save that one for the only guy who can out-whine me when John and I return mid-August.

Cortisone shot and good advice...that I didn't follow.

Saturday, July25, 2015
“Okay John, are you ready for some pain?”

Though I didn’t really need the warning, I appreciated it.  Mark was about to inject a little different formula of cortisone into my aching heel, but I clearly remembered the last injection the previous February.  “Go for it, Doc,” I said.

It was more than a little pain and as I watched him pushing the needle in over the next thirty seconds, wondered why it wasn’t coming out the other side.  He finally extracted it and offered up my working instructions.  He knows me. 

“Okay…take it easy, ice and stretch the shit out of it and expect it to get worse before it gets better,” he said. 

‘Ice and stretch the shit out of it’ is some medical jargon they use for knuckleheads who don’t do what they’re told to do, he told me.  “That means no running or excessive hiking…do you understand, John?”

“It’s not like I’m a four-year old, Doc.  How about riding my bike and will I be ready for a 15-mile hike on Friday?” I asked.

“Yes to the bike and the hike…but take it easy for the next three days,” he concluded.

I left his office before eight, being so thankful to have a guy who cared enough to get me in on short notice and on a Saturday morning before the office opened.  He would be speaking later that day at Kyrie Irving’s basketball camp and had 20 some patients to see before noon.  His running shoe stores are doing well and expanding.  He has a passion for the work he does and no one is better at keeping competitive athletes in their sports instead of on the sidelines.

I’d already taken out Jason’s dogs and fed their cat.  I’d had to walk Copper and Dakota, too since Savannah was out of town as well.  I was missing my normal Kleifeld’s breakfast, but I really needed that cortisone shot.  I drove to Mimi’s and did chores there until 1 p.m., which included taking the heaviest front door I’ve ever handled off its hinges so I could plane off some wood and get it to close more easily.  I also spent time on a ladder scraping the house and preparing it for painting. 

After a couple of sandwiches, I drove to the Handy Rents and picked up a 65-pound jack hammer.  My work partner, Justin, has a torn up shoulder from a car accident many years ago, so I took on the operation and removal of the concrete pad covering the leaking water hydrant we had to replace.  It was the hot side; they’d done the cold the previous summer before I’d arrived.

“So you rented a jack hammer back then, spent two days taking out the cold and replacing it, then filled it back in and recovered it in cement.  Am I getting it right?” I asked.

“That sums it up,” Justin said.

“Why didn’t you replace the hot side since it was the same age as the cold and more importantly, why did you cement it back in?  Gravel is our friend, Justin, and that’s all were putting back.  We tamp it down and put the horse mats over it and only you and I will ever know there’s no concrete down there,” I said.

“That sounds good to me,” he admitted.

I don’t know a lot about a lot of things, but I can figure some things out and doing extra work just because it’s always been done that way doesn’t make sense to me.  The plumber concurred.  We filled it with gravel and covered it up.

I got back home after stopping back at Jason’s to deal with his animals by six and began cutting grass.  I hadn’t edged the driveway and sidewalks all summer and in keeping with my ‘curb appeal’ approach to getting the house ready for sale, elected to do that.  An hour later, I was dripping sweat and explaining to my neighbors why. 

“I think you’ll actually need a shower before you jump in the pool this time John.  I don’t think the filtration system or chemicals can take the amount of sweat and dirt I’m noticing on your body,” Pat said.

I’d tried to clean the tar that had been liberally applied to the drainage pipes we’d been working around when replacing the hydrant with gasoline, but failed miserably.  My clothes were covered, as well.

“You might be right.  I’ll try showering.”

It was now eight o’clock and I began thinking I’d been on my feet since six a.m. and had not ‘iced and stretched the shit’ out of anything yet.  I’m pretty sure I’d done exactly what a four-year old would have and made things even worse.  Well…I made a huge smoothie, grabbed my ice wrap and headed for the sofa, plugging in ‘Return to Planet of the Apes’ per Jason’s suggestion before I did.  I was whipped.

No workout...

Friday, July 24, 2015

Once LuAnn said she couldn’t go, I started wracking my brain on possible alternative companions.  It occurred to me as I searched my brain that there were very few people, men or women, who were willing to sleep on the ground, contend with black bears and shit in a privy.  I’m not sure why exactly because I can’t seem to get enough of it, particularly the part about sleeping out and gazing at those big, beautiful skies, but it is rather inconvenient – just worth it to me.  I made some calls and sent out some texts trying to scramble someone up, but regardless, I’m going.

I received a text from the doc saying simply, ‘can you be at the Chardon office at 7:45 a.m. tomorrow morning?’  That’s a no-brainer and how amazing that he’ll fit me in before office hours.  I had emailed him of my continued plan to walk the Continental Divide and to write a story about it.  ‘You’ll get a chapter as the doctor who kept me healthy enough to complete the course provided you can figure out what the hell’s wrong with my foot.’  I’m sure the book chapter cinched the deal.

After another hard day at the farm, I came home and broke out my own paint to do the chimney.  It was much more work than I’d thought it would be.  I needed the step ladder on the roof and bricks to even it out for safer climbing and painting.  It went on slowly and took a couple of hours to complete the project.  By the time I was finished…I was finished! 

I’d managed a formal workout six days in a row…the longest stretch in a year…and with the foot bothering me as much as it was, elected to go inside, prop it up and call it a night.  I received word from Heidi that she was pretty sure she would put her kitty, Five, down and that she was quite torn and very upset.  I know this decision, having made it twice in my life, and though felt it was the best thing in both situations, completely sympathize with the process of deciding. 

I had a huge day lined up for Saturday, starting with a visit with a cortisone shot, and retired early.  I’d need the rest.

Lost my Adirondack partner...for now.

Thursday, July 23, 2015

I managed to complete my painting projects at the farm, at least for the next couple of weeks, but still found myself, as the job calls for, walking and on my feet all day.  MY heel continued to hurt unabated and I sent an email to Mark Mendeszoon, my foot doc, by day’s end asking about getting in before the Adirondacks.

I drove to Jefferson after work to take Kristen through her first Survival Workout.  LuAnn was prepared to join us and they both dove in with vigor.  Kristen swore to having no upper body strength, but like her mom, managed a few good push-ups when encouraged.  We went through our first rotation that included all major body parts before she asked about a jog to the end of the block.

“I know you want me to do a 5K with you and I want to do that, but I’ve got this foot thing going right now that has to get addressed before I run another step in my life,” I admitted.  She accepted that lameness and she and her mom started down the block.  While they were gone, I pulled my pack from the car and did sixty step-ups with it on my back.  I dropped to attempt a set of push-ups and was up to about 12 and nearing the end when I heard them approaching.  I started counting out loud,”…forty-seven, forty-eight…”

“Wow!  You can do that many with a weighted pack on?  Veeeery impressive,” LuAnn said.

Well sure.  I didn’t confirm or deny.  Anything to impress the women.

Kristen began to struggle on the second rotation and we agreed that she should not do a third.  LuAnn, on the other hand, was looking like she’d been doing the workout for years.  She’s completely into it and it’s showing already.

“So…ready for your trip to the Adirondacks next week? I asked.

“Umm…about that.  I really don’t think I can make the trip.  I don’t think I’m ready, but was wondering about September?  Could Kristen make it by then?”

We planned it that way and I told Kristen it would make a good training goal for her.  “I’ll take you up something challenging, like Giant Mt., which is a good 2-hour hike up with around 3,000 feet of elevation gain.  It’s a workout and you need to be ready,” I said.

She headed for the front yard as LuAnn and I did another few sets.  We finished and were walking towards the front to join her when a familiar smell assaulted my senses.

“Kristen!  You’re smoking!?”

She looked at me sheepishly as she disposed of the evidence.  This will be an interesting challenge.

We discussed our coming movie night and planned to do a Survival Workout on my home turf before the spaghetti dinner and a night with one of my favorites, the movie ‘Frequency’.  I’ll be heading to the Adirondacks the next day and may have John for company.  I’m going, in any event and climbing something sore foot, or not.

Survival Workout:  60 minutes

Training Heart Rate:  100-150 bpm.

Calories burned:  600

Heel pain and birthday greetings...

Wednesday, July 22, 2015

Today is the birthday of my youngest and I felt some frustration over not being able to be with him or speak to him.  He is stationed in Pensacola, Florida, going through an intense Military Intelligence course with the Army.  Though I’m sure this has been a great move for him in his life journey, I can’t help but remember the thing that drove him to this decision was his mom leaving and our marriage breaking up.  It depresses me just a little and I wish he was back home, but in the end I’m sure it will be the best thing he could have done.

I had another hard day on my feet, painting at the farm and then painting the front of my house afterwards.  I remember clearly when all my heel problems began.  I was working for the YMCA at the time and went from there to a remodeling job Jason and I were working.  Between the two, I was on my feet 14 hours a day and in shoes with little support.  After three weeks of this, I could hardly stand the pain in either foot.  It dissipated in my left, but the right heel never got better.  The cortisone shot last winter was the first relief I’d experienced in six months, but that pain is back and likely due to the amount of time I’m spending on my feet and ladders over the summer.

Savannah stopped by with Copper and asked me if I’d like to go for a hike.  It was the last thing my heel needed, but I felt the need to do something and the bleachers were my other consideration.  We drove to the park and I strapped on the pack. 

We hiked for an hour and I could feel the pain with each step.  I resolved to call the doctor and discuss another cortisone shot before my trip to the Adirondacks next week.  I did notice general fatigue from the hike with a 40-pound pack, but based on the recent workouts, not too surprising.

Hike duration: One hour.
Training Heart Rate: 100 bpm.
Calories Burned: 500.

Contemplation...

Tuesday, July 21, 2015
With more painting and staining, both at work and on the second job, I was again quite tired by the time I arrived home and began the serious contemplation of what I should or shouldn’t do.  There was leftovers calling from the refrigerator and it would be so nice to just warm them up, put the TV on, put my sore feet up and watch for a couple of hours.  It was fleeting, but it was a definite consideration.

I changed into my cycling gear, filled my water bottles and climbed aboard UB Express.  It was pushing seven and I didn’t want to take a two-hour ride and end up too close to dusk, so I took my 90-minute route.

I expected to still be feeling the 1172 bleacher steps from the day before and that would have been normal, but as the ride progressed, I realized I was feeling rather strong.  I started pushing harder and climbed my hills aggressively and out of the saddle.  By the time I arrived back at the park for the final miles of the ride, I was starting to think I was actually rounding into shape.  It is funny how quickly I can still do this, but I know the older I get, the tougher that will get.  Better to stay in shape all the time.  Like I didn’t already know that.

I’m moving ever closer to having the house ready to put on the market which invites the question ‘where will you live when it sells?’  It’s kind of important and I have given it considerable thought, but drawn no definitive conclusion.  I could do the obvious and simply buy a smaller home.  I could rent something, too and I’ve looked at that.  I’ve also looked around the 12-room house and wondered what I’ll do with all the stuff that has filled it.  Certainly I will need some of it, but I had been thinking I needed something with a particular square footage to accommodate these things.  It occurred to me that if I did that, my things were kind of owning me instead of the other way around.  I suppose that’s when I seriously began to have doubts about owning a home or even renting.  I’ve contemplated work and travel, considering buying a Toyota Tacoma with a cap and camping tent off the back, packing tools and recreational items like my kayak and bike, and heading for the open road.  I could store things I’ll need after I return, which is undetermined.  It’s worth some consideration and at a perfect time in my life.  I have no commitments to speak of and remain in good health.  The open road looks inviting in my mind…

Bike Workout: One hour and 50 minutes. 
Training Heart Rate: 120 bpm biking.
Calories Burned: 1540.

Pushing myself...

Monday, July 20, 2015
My volunteer group at the farm had gotten several painting jobs started, but none completed.  That’s okay since I love to paint, but I found myself on my feet all day, which is never good for my heel.  I went to my deck staining job from the farm and spent another several hours on my feet before climbing exhausted into my car for the trip home and some dinner. 

And, of course, the guilt began to creep into my brain.  I was driving within a stone’s throw of the Mayfield bleachers and I did have all the gear I needed in the car to do my workout.  I kept telling myself ‘you’re tired and did a whole day workout’ but in the end the need to be ready for the Adirondacks won out.

I put the pack on, grabbed my Nalgene bottle, which I filled at the drinking fountain, and climbed the first nine steps up that took me from field level up the beginning of the bleacher seats.  I set the water bottle down and began the first climb to the top.  I knew I’d have to break the 1015 total steps I’d taken on the previous workout, so that meant at least 24 trips to the top and back. 

My legs were shaking after 20 sets, but I pushed past 1000 towards…well…I wasn’t quite sure.  I walked up every aisle in the bleachers and there are seven.  If I stopped just after 24, I’d be in the middle of the bleachers and that just wouldn’t do so I pushed myself to complete the fourth cycle and ended up with 28 sets and 1,172 steps – an even number, LuAnn.

My legs have never trembled so much from a workout and it felt good.  I was getting closer to be ready though I was only carrying forty pounds in the pack and was contemplating making that heavier.  Probably not a good idea since my hip has felt good, which the additional weight could screw up.  For now, I’m satisfied.

Bleacher workout: 40 minutes.
Training Heart Rate: 120 bpm.
Calories burned: 500

Nineties and high humidity can change some things...

Sunday, July 19, 2015
The heat and humidity remained on Sunday and I knew my commitment to work out would wane as the day progressed, so I forced myself to go to the park early for a Survival Workout.  I told myself I could do that and then, if I could push the limits, I’d go to the bleachers after family dinner and do a thousand or so steps.  First things first, though.

I knew just how lousy the workout conditions were when Dakota struggled to keep up with me as I walked from station to station.  I haven’t been doing the workout consistently, but was able to do 90 push-ups at the start.  As is often the case with layoffs, I found the second and third set much more difficult; the muscular endurance just wasn’t there.  I will continue to fit in the Survival Workout just because I know and appreciate the importance of balance in conditioning, but my focus as I prepare for trips to the Adirondacks will be on endurance and the ability to walk many miles with elevations changes.  Cycling and climbing bleachers with a weighted pack has done the trick in the past, so no need to re-invent the wheel now.  I am compelled to be the person in the best shape when going there, too, since I’m the one encouraging others to go and don’t want to be the weak link in the chain. 

I completed the workout with 20 sets, not as hard as the previous outing, but more than enough to feel like I’d put in a good day.  Dakota struggled to hop back in the car, partially from exhaustion and partially because she’s getting to be an old lady.  I wanted to do some painting and staining on a couple of different jobs, but decided it could wait until the coming week when the temperatures would again go below ninety.  Sometimes you just need to stay inside and suck up the air conditioning.

Survival Workout: 60 minutes. 
Training Heart Rate: 100-150 bpm.
Calories Burned: 600.

Tough training day brings me closer to 'Adirondack' shape...

Saturday, July 18, 2015

I started the morning with breakfast at Kleifelds with my sister and then a walk around the farmer’s market in Willoughby.  I grabbed some peaches and listened to Cecilia speaking to former classmates who also knew LuAnn well and they spoke of her in near reverence.  She seems pretty special and I guess I’m lucky to have her in my circle of friends and the chance to share the Adirondacks with her.  I know she will be awe-struck and that alone will make the trip special.

I drove to Mimi’s after and began three of the hardest hours of work I’ve done in awhile.  The heat and humidity must have resembled a tropical rain forest.  Water was running off my face in torrents as I pulled weeds from her jungle, cut down dead bushes and small trees, scraped paint from the front of the house, and hauled debris into the woods.  I noticed poison ivy all around me and prayed I was careful enough to have avoided another outbreak. 

I drove home and took a cooling dip in Pat’s pool.  “I just set the pH and now you’ve messed it all up again,” he said.  He lives to balance the chemicals in the pool and I present challenges as great as global warming when I bring my sweat into play.  He should thank me.

Refreshed, I drove back to Chagrin Falls and spent three more hours on the deck and completed the staining of the rails and steps.  I stayed in the shade so as not to melt.  Once back home, I quickly changed into my riding clothes and jumped on the bike before I had the chance to convince myself it was too hot or that I’d already done enough.  I vowed to ride easy, but planned to put in at least two hours and did.  I went through the hills of Waite Hill and rode back by way of Squire’s Castle so I could get in a little extra mileage and one more hill.  I finished two full water bottles on the ride and could have used a third.  My legs were still feeling the bleacher workout, but I could sense myself getting stronger and knew I’d be ready for some climbing in the Adirondacks.

I finished the night in front of the TV and tuned in the movie ‘Cake’ with Jennifer Aniston on Netflix.  She plays the part of a woman suffering from chronic pain and some major, tragic personal loss.  She is addicted to pain killers and is living alone in extreme depression and sadness.  At one point, she asks a man to just lie down with her during the night while she sleeps because she misses that simple, human intimacy of being close to another person.  I get that.  There are people who can be alone all the time and prefer it.  She was one of them.  I believe I am, as well.

Finally, I'd like to say hello to my cousin Donnie who I know will be reading this at some point.  He was in a serious motorcycle accident two days ago and is recovering.  He always joins me in the Adirondacks for a meal at Noonmark and the opportunity to see good looking women in spandex.  Sometimes he actually hikes with me, too.  He is my closest friend and like a brother and I pray for his full recovery.  See you soon, Hemi.

Bike duration:  Two hours and 15 minutes.

Training Heart Rate:  120 bpm.

Calories burned during workout:  1900.

Lots of sweat. No exercise.

Friday, July 17, 2015

I had 15 volunteers coming to the farm to do various projects that I would supervise with the majority involving painting.  I’m quite particular about my painting and know that there is a definite skill involved that not all people possess.  I’ve seen the work done at the farm by volunteers in the past with the tell-tale colors of wall paint on ceilings, door frames, moldings and glass.  I decided therefore, to get in early and do the cutting myself.

Once they arrived, I put them in different areas and traveled around to help where I could.  The humidity was near 100 percent and the thermometer was pushing 90.  We worked hard all day and by quitting time I was bushed, but not done.  I drove to my deck staining job and worked there for four hours before finally calling it a day.  I was tired and hungry and again without the energy or time for a workout.  I was still recovering from yesterday’s efforts, as well and decided to leave it at that.  No point in pushing for an injury when the Adirondacks are two weeks away.

"I like even numbers..."

Thursday, July 16, 2015

As I suspected, Wednesday at the farm was all about cleaning up the disasters created when monsoon rains have water running everywhere except where it belongs.  It was a physical day of shoveling stone, moving downed trees, and clearing debris.  By day’s end, I was tired, but I had some staining to do for one of my after work clients, so headed there.  Three hours later, I was ready to call it a night without a formal workout.

I made up for that Thursday, though.  My normal partner for hay deliveries was not present, so I had 200 bales all to myself.  I’m guessing they come in around fifty pounds, so grabbing them from a conveyor and stacking them in the loft is a considerable workout.  It took about forty minutes to get it all in place and I felt like I’d made up for missing a workout on Wednesday.

I drove to Jefferson and my new charges, LuAnn and her daughter Kristen, to take them through a formal Survival Workout.  Once there, I discovered LuAnn had already done portions of the workout earlier in the day and had managed a bike ride, as well.  She was motivated and was not going to be an issue.  Kristen, on the other hand, was going through an unusual pre-workout warm-up.

“So just what is that you’re eating?  I want to know what to call it when you throw it up once you start working out,” I said.

“Work out?”  She looked surprised as she bent her head back to take a long swig from her ‘Mike’s Hard Lemonade’.

“Well sure a workout.  I thought you wanted me to help you develop chiseled abs and trembling pecs…along with the ability to run a world class 5K,” I said.

She seemed to remember hearing something about getting in shape.  “Yeah…I told my mom I’d give it a try after telling her I wouldn’t.  I don’t know about that running thing, though,” she admitted.

We spent the next half hour talking about the reason to bother with a training program at all.   She’s 23 and lean and although she had an interest in looking better, couldn’t come up with any kind of distant ‘goal’ to wrap her head around.

“I have always found that sticking to any program works best when you have something in particular to train to do.  You know…riding a bike across the country or hiking the Pacific Crest Trail like the woman did in the movie and book ‘Wild’.  Even picking a race to run, like doing a 5K in the fall, let’s say.”

“Would you do it with me?” she asked, sincerely.

And now I was cornered.  I’ve been thinking my running days are over after the horrible time I had with foot pain this past spring.  “Of course I will,” I said.  And of course I will.

We agreed to meet next Thursday when she won’t eat and drink before hand.  I think she will find quite quickly that she has hidden and untapped fitness potential and it is going to be fun to help her discover and hone it.

I left for home about seven, but was thinking I should drive straight to the Mayfield bleachers and get in a workout.  Now…part of my brain was saying ‘you did the hay thing and can skip it’, but it was fading as I approached my exit.  I drove up the gate of the stadium, changed quickly and grabbed my pack from the trunk.  It’s still holding forty pounds and I think I’ll leave it at that weight for a few weeks before adding more salt – my weight of choice.  I started up the bleachers with my goal to do two more sets than I’d done on the previous workout or 24 total sets.  There isn’t much to do while you climb, so I started doing a calculation as to how many steps I’d do.  Some aisles have 43 steps, others 41 and one has only 30.  I climbed and totaled and as I approached 1,000, knew I’d be squeezing in another set to break that number.  I ended with legs trembling and 1,015.  I texted LuAnn to let her know my achievement expecting her to be impressed.  She wrote back, ‘I like even numbers.  If you’d have done 1,016 I’d have texted ‘Wow!’ 

Even number next time for sure.

Bleacher work duration:  45 minutes.

Training Heart Rate:  110-140 bpm.

Calories burned during workout:  500

A new member of the Survival Workout Club...

Tuesday, July 14, 2015
I was starting to think that again, the weather reporters were off their gourd regarding thunderstorms when the skies began to darken.  It got to an ‘end of the world’ kind of black over the farm until finally the rains came.  And how they came.  For over 30 minutes, it rained harder than I’ve ever seen.  The creek and pond on the property overflowed, washing away the carriage trail and the road out front was under 8 inches of water, as passing motorists experienced.  I did my best to clear overflowing gutters to keep the water from entering the stalls and carriage room, but to little avail.  We have a couple of acres of roof and the water it caught couldn’t possibly stay in the gutters and downspouts of the structure. 
It had slowed by quitting time and I drove away knowing I’d have a mess to deal with over the next several days.  I headed to LuAnn’s thinking about the workout I wanted to create and put her through.  As I approached her place, I noticed the local high school not five blocks away.  ‘Bleachers’ ran through my devious mind.
She was dressed in a t-shirt from a 5K event and I started thinking things about running.  “Oh no – I don’t run.  This was just an event at McKinley school in North Willoughby I was helping with,” she said.  It also happened to be the same shirt she’d been wearing in a facebook posting her daughter had put on her page the previous day, which I mentioned.
“I HAVE other shirts, John,” she said.
“Me too, but I like this one.  Facebook would show that I was wearing it last night too.  Thought I’d get that out there before your daughter got home and pointed it out,” I confessed.
I started with my typical explanation of the workout and the keys to success, like going to failure on the different exercises regardless of how many repetitions that took.  I told her we’d start with push-ups.
“I can’t do a single push-up,” she confided.
I looked at her arms, upper body and lack of body fat and said, “yes – you can.”
She continued to nay say as she got to the ground and into the position.  I put my foot on her butt, pushed it down and told her to think of herself as a plank.  Giggling slightly, she lowered herself to the ground and pushed up to her starting position.  Then did it two more times before getting up. 
“I told you…I can’t do a push-up.”
“Umm…you just did three?”
We argued about the definition of ‘can’t’, but I think I convinced her she could do more than she thought and that ‘can’t’ had little room in my exercise vocabulary.  As we toured her property looking for rocks and logs to lift, steps to climb and things to jump on top of, she said again and again that she couldn’t only to demonstrate that, when properly motivated, she could.  “Stop kicking me,” she said.  “Stop saying you ‘can’t’ and just do what I tell you,” I replied, as any good trainer would.
We walked to the track and did some bleachers, karaoke’s, sprints, walk the line for balance, squats, and bear and crab walks.  She walked some funny, girly way at some point with her hands waving back and forth and looking generally silly.  “You can get away with that, but I’d look quite unmanly if I did it.  And you do know people are watching you…right?”
She didn’t seem to care and was rather enjoying the workout.  Was I doing something wrong?
We returned to her place and did some core work after which I wrote down the different sets she’d done with descriptions to remind her what they all meant. 
“When are we doing this next?  I need to get back over and put Kristen through the paces,” I said, referring to her daughter who had missed the evening’s festivities.
“Well…next Monday might work,” she said, noticing the disapproval in my eyes.  “Or this Thursday?”
She mentioned an auction as a way of an excuse to get out of the workout – or so I took it.  “Thursday it is.  Auction?  I don’t care about no stinking auction.  You’re working out, too,” I said.  I can be so tough and forceful.  I’m sure she was frightened and submitted.
I drove home, fed Dakota and hurried up to the track where I added to what I’d already done with LuAnn by hitting the bleachers with my pack.  Half way through my 22 sets, a young girl who’d been running on the track came into the bleachers to watch and question.
“Do you have lots of weight in your pack?”
“About forty pounds,” I said.
“Well…how come you’re walking up and down the steps?”
It probably seemed rather pointless to her.  I told her about climbing mountains and how this got my legs strong and my lungs able to handle it.  She seemed quite interested.
“Do you put your clothes and food in there where you go?”
“That and my tent and sleeping bag and lots of other stuff, too,” I said.
She was going to be a backpacker someday, I’m sure.

Bleacher workout: 40 minutes.
Training Heart Rate: 120 bpm.
Calories burned: 500

Savannah's 23 and I'm celebrating with apple pie ala mode...

Monday, July 13, 2015

Savannah turned 23 today and I had told her I’d take her out to ‘The Local Tavern’ for dinner where I tend to load up on cheesy fries and a burger smothered in things loaded with fatty calories.  Not your ideal training meal for a guy whose supposedly turned the corner.  Ah…what the hell.

I was reading the burger menu when I noticed a sidebar which claimed that any burger entrée could be made with a chicken breast.

“So you can make that 2, 000 calorie dinner I usually eat with a chicken breast so that it’ll have only…like…1,800 calories?” I asked our waitress.

“Absolutely,” she replied.

“I’ll take it.”

But I didn’t eat it all and I left at least half the fries on my plate.  I mean I’m really getting serious again.  I’d gone to the park before dinner and spent a hard 50 minutes doing 22 different sets of exercises for my Survival Workout.  I hadn’t done one in two weeks and it was a pathetic effort, but I did it.  I found that my first set of anything was off about ten percent, but the second and thirds were more like a third off.  I was exhausted and paying the price for the layoff, but I still pushed myself to do as much as I could and the 22 sets toasted me.  I was also considering LuAnn who would be going through the workout tomorrow for the first time and I figured if I was a wet noodle, I’d go easier on her.  She recently moved to Jefferson and has found that her commitment to exercise has waned.  She has expressed an interest in going to the Adirondacks, but as a true outdoor person, understands the need to be in shape if she’s going to enjoy the backcountry.  She asked me to lay out a program for her using her 2-acre yard and I’m more than happy to oblige. 

After dinner, I returned home and found the Dutch Apple Pie from Patterson’s was still sitting on the counter in the kitchen.  Not sure where I thought it would go since I live alone and that’s where I left it, but there it was not four feet from the freezer and a container of Breyer’s Vanilla Bean Ice Cream.  Damn.  I caved, warmed the apple pie, added the ice cream and watched a rerun of ‘Lost’.  Well…three days in a row of formal exercise, at least.

Survival Workout:  60 minutes

Training Heart Rate:  100-150 bpm.

Calories burned:  600

Starting to flow...

Sunday, July 12, 2015

I went to bed Saturday night with the knowledge that if I didn’t get up and head out on my bike first thing in the morning, I was unlikely to do any exercise all day.  We would be celebrating Savannah’s birthday around 1:30 p.m. and with rain scheduled for the afternoon and into the early evening, it was unlikely I’d do anything after.  It was also going to be my only day to lie around like a slug and sleep a little extra.  What should I do?  Thankfully, guilt won out in the end.

I calculated the time I needed to be riding.  I had to put the spaghetti on three hours before dinner was to be served and I had to put meatballs I didn’t have into the sauce.  That meant ride for two hours, shower, go to BJ’s for the frozen variety, get home and have them in the crock pot with Ragu sauce by 10:30 a.m.  Therefore, I needed to be on the bike and rolling down the driveway by 7:30 a.m.  In addition to missing some lazy sleep time, I would have to sacrifice a trip to Kleifelds for breakfast.  The sacrifices I make to keep from looking sixty.

I hit the road right on time.  I was taking my favorite course through Waite Hill which meant I’d be encountering lots of rolling hills and a couple of steep ones.  I was a little concerned about the groin injury; backing up the bleacher workout with a strenuous ride could be a bad idea, but what the hell.  I could feel the throb in the groin area after five minutes of riding, but the old me had returned and I was determined to ride on through…and then whine like a little girl later.  I did ride with some degree of moderation, taking the hills in easy gears and not pushing so hard on the flats.  Then I saw a couple of riders up ahead.

It was a man and a woman riding along Eagle and heading towards the Holden Arboretum.  I tried not to be competitive and push because I’m old and don’t do foolish things anymore.  As we began to climb though, I could see that I’d overtake the lady pretty quickly.  Her partner had looked back and seen me and was sprinting ahead to keep from being passed.  This bothered me because he’d clearly been riding with the woman and simply because he didn’t want to be overtaken, had left her in his dust.  How unchivalrous. 

I passed her by and said ‘good morning’ and moved on towards the boyfriend/husband or whatever he was.  I’m a good climber and although the groin was hurting, I had to catch and pass the guy before he hit the turn off for Holden, which I was sure was his destination.  It was only a quarter mile ahead. 

I pushed down hard and caught him one hundred yards from his turn.  “Hey…asshole…you left your wife back there to beat me up the hill.  How’s it feel that I’m blowing past you like the cheesy weenie that you are,” I said as I went by.

Okay…I just said ‘good morning’ and only thought that last thing.

I finished the ride in just under two hours and was proud of the effort.  Not the effort of the ride, but the effort to start it.  For me, this is always the hardest part when I’ve lost my groove and probably true for most people.  It’s so easy to just say ‘I’ve waited this long, what’s one more day?’  Well…no more.  I’ve got some new people and one old friend…me...to inspire.  I’m going to be a rock again.  I’m going to walk that Continental Divide and I’m going to ride my bike across this country and some other things, as well.  I’m not going to get any of it done with excuses.  It is time. 

Bike duration:  Two hours.

Training Heart Rate:  120 bpm.

Calories burned during workout:  1700.

Into the bleachers...

Saturday, July 11, 2015

Let’s skip past Thursday and Friday since they were both days that included lots of work and no real exercise.

Thursday, I had 15 volunteers to supervise as they attempted to paint various areas of the farm.  I’m a bit of a stickler about painting, particularly when it comes to the trim where most amateurs consider close good enough.  It’s not their fault.  Having the steady hand to do the trim work around doors, windows and the ceiling takes patience and practice both of which are in short supply when you get a group of random sales people together to do a job.  I asked if anyone was comfortable with a brush and three hands shot up.  When I distributed brushes and one of the volunteers asked for a smaller one, I knew he wasn’t really comfortable.  “We can scrape it off with a razor later…right?” Um…well…we can if we have to, but ‘HELL NO’.

Friday was a long day of painting, repairs and more heavy lifting.  I received an email that one of our volunteers had some plywood the farm could have if I was willing to pick it up.  I was, of course and asked for her address.  Maureen/Mo came back to the shop with the information.

“The person with the wood lives on Bass Lake Road and his name is Jon.  He’ll be there to help you load it,” she said.

I thought for a moment.  “Is his last name Duer?”

“Yeah.  How did you know?”

“He’s my nephew,” I said, putting the pieces together.  “He’s not going to help me load that plywood, he’s going to do it alone.”

I arrived at his farm and we stacked the wood into the back of the truck.  It had been nailed into his loft and he’d neglected to remove the thirty nails which held each sheet in place.

“I’m going to spend the rest of the afternoon taking these friggin nails out of this plywood,” I said. 

He smiled.

I finished the day by working four hours on a side job staining a deck.  The people are so nice and when I was told I was staying for dinner, I didn’t argue.

Saturday started with brickwork on my house.  A friend who does that kind of work stopped over and we began mixing mortar to apply to the outside of the front of the brick façade where the brick faces had been popping off.  I climbed on the roof and did the same on the chimney and we both sweat profusely.  I did introduce him to an ice cold fruit smoothie half way through the day though.

I felt like I’d done plenty, but as it got closer to sunset, I made up my mind to put a bag of salt in my backpack and head for the Mayfield bleachers for an tough climbing workout.  I’d lightened the salt bag from fifty to maybe thirty pounds and loaded it into my pack.  All told, I was probably lugging about forty pounds on my back as I headed for the bleachers.  I spent the next 40 minutes going up and down and mixing in a mile walk on the track.  I ended up climbing over 800 steps in my twenty sets in the bleachers and wondered if the groin injury would return and debilitate me the next day.  I had plans to ride two hours in the morning, but only a good night’s sleep would confirm that plan.  I was reasonably pain free during the workout and it felt awfully good to be testing myself again.  Climbing steps with that weight truly taxes the quadriceps and is excellent preparation for the Adirondacks…or the nut house. 

Bleacher work duration:  45 minutes.

Training Heart Rate:  110-140 bpm.

Calories burned during workout:  500

An honest to goodness bike ride...

Wednesday, July 8, 2015

I keep telling myself ‘you’ll get back to riding tomorrow’ and manage to put it off another day with a variety of excuses.  Too much hard work at the farm leaves me tired, but conditioned.  Extra jobs after work don’t leave enough time.  Getting the house ready to sell takes priority.  And…it’s raining again.  The last one is actually legit.  The others?  I could do any of them and still ride the bike for an hour or so without any real problem, but I’ve gotten lazy.

Well…I was close to running out of time for a ride in daylight when I just made myself change into my cycling outfit and hop on the bike.  Ninety minutes later I was happy with myself. 

The ride offered some challenges.  I noticed the groin injury almost immediately, but was determined to ride through it.  I was careful on hills and tried not to pull too hard on the pedals as you can when clipped to them, but for the first twenty minutes, it was nagging.  After that, I think it loosened to the point that it was no longer a problem though I was concerned about the next day.  With injuries like this, at some point you just have to try it out and see what happens.  I tend to do too much too soon, but not this time.  Well…let’s see what tomorrow brings.

I am trying to embrace being single.  For the first time since Holly left, I’ve told myself to enjoy this time.  I’m healthy and strong and my head is coming around to what I have to do to live the rest of my life with a semblance of sanity.  I can make a difference yet in the lives of others and in my own, so do it.  I can also just enjoy an evening of solitude and not having to answer to anyone’s needs.  It can be refreshing or disconcerting.  I’m trying to make it refreshing.

Bike duration:  90 minutes.

Training Heart Rate:  120 bpm.

Calories burned during workout:  1275.