It seems like we’ve been here before my friends. I know this post may seem eerily familiar to “Starting All Over Again.” A spinal fluid leak tends to temper enthusiasm. Read on intrepid visitors.
In January 2013, I started eating right and exercising. I weighed 236.6 pounds and I endeavored to lose 56.6 pounds and weigh 180. My first goal, 190 pounds, I achieved in 11 months. It took me another year and suffering a stomach virus to lose the rest. I’ve been down as low as 176.6. I’ve tried everything from walking to running and weight lifting. I got to roughly 180 pounds and had no idea what I wanted to do next. I finally decided to drive to my ideal body type.
In the process of doing so I finally thought I figured out the formula. I thought I figured out the correct nutrition and exercise regimen. I was starting to see results. My “skinny fat” properties were starting to be replaced by a leaner, more defined look. I was getting stronger.
Men’s Fitness: “Meaning that while many of us might look svelte from afar or when fully clothed, deep down we suffer from a common male condition known as being skinny fat.”
I had figured out how to get body weight’s worth of protein into my body. I had overcome calf and hamstring injuries, and a few flare ups of a chronic back problem, and had increased my running to close to 20 miles per week.
I was in the middle of Jim Stoppani’s Shortcut to Shred program. I have finished this six-day-a-week, six-week-program once, done four weeks on another occasion and I was determined to get through the whole thing again. On Day 2 of Week 3, it happened. I was way too far forward on the the second rep of a deadlift with 115 pounds on the bar and blew out a disc at L4L5. The herniated disc was on the right side and was sitting on nerve roots and caused all kinds of hate and discontent.
I’m sure this is a rehash for many of my faithful readers but bear with me, I have a point.
A microdiscectomy, six weeks and a lot of comfort food has me on the edge of resuming my regimen. A dural tear caused spinal fluid to pool under my incision. The swelling is finally abating. My surgeon, Captain Chaos (written with much respect and admiration), hasn’t been worried about it and my paranoid ass was calling and pestering his nurses just about every other day.
Sidebar – this is such a compliment – I am a huge Dom Deluise fan and I loved the Cannonball Run movies…
So, at my six-week follow up with Captain Chaos, we discussed what’s next. I can’t run until July 29, and even then he wants me to take it easy. I can ease back into strength training. I spoke with an athletic trainer friend and I’ll be doing body weight exercises for the first two weeks before I hit the weights.
I’ve reached an impasse, a fork in the road (or a confluence), a real decision point. I’ll be 46 in eight days. I have managed to maintain my weight without any real exercise for the last two and half months. April 7 is when I had the accident. Surgery happened May 6. Here I sit on June 21 sipping Devil’s Cut bourbon, still experiencing some hip soreness and wishing this swelling away wondering what to do next.
That’s not really true. I have already decided what to do. It wasn’t much of a decision. Today is the last day of comfort food. Today is the last day of complacency. Today is the last day of “recovery.” Tomorrow I am back on the wagon. Tomorrow I go back to the high protein, low carb diet with which I was finally having success. I will achieve my ideal. My ideal is a year older than me. I wrote it before, I’ll write it again. I don’t buy genetics. I don’t buy predisposition. I just need to be more careful.
As I mentioned, I am almost 46, but in my mind I’m 20. Twenty-year-old me is invincible and can run and jump and lift and do a lot of things 46-year-old me has no business doing. Sit on your ass for the better part of 16 years, have what I consider “fresh legs” and a microdiscectomy is what you get.
I feel like I am starting over. However, the me that I am starting with is better than the me I started with the last time.
One of the things I had to do in my life was eliminate excuses. I don’t have time, I’m too tired, I work too much, my commute is too long, I like food too much…it’s one of the things I hear from people now and I can’t believe I sounded like that. I have adopted #NoExcuses as my mantra, my creedo, whatever you want to call it. I’m just going to be a little smarter about it. I never respected my chronic back problem. Now I have to respect what is going on with my surgically-repaired back. I cannot herniate the disc again. The next surgery will involve rods and screws if I hurt myself again.
I will achieve what I want. There is no question. There is no doubt. I will do it naturally and with nothing but healthy eating, grit and determination (and a little extra protein, and maybe some creatine).
I could just eat decently and maintain this weight. I am convinced of that. But that’s not the person I have become. Exercise has become such an important part of my life I can’t imagine it without it. The fat needs to go. Muscle will grow.
My surgeon says at three months post op I am full go, no restrictions July 29. I plan on hitting the ground running. One of the worst things anyone can do is to tell me what I can’t do.
Go ahead, tell me I can’t do this. I dare you.