December 13, 2011 Getting back on it.

I remember way back in 2004 I took an entire year (probably more like 6 months) and dedicated myself to sitting on the couch.   Though I didn’t particularly set out to sit down, I found myself occupying my couch day after day.  The Simpson’s reruns were showing regularly on TV, I found the joys of Neopolitan icecream milkshakes, and I started buying Chuckeye steaks instead of the normal lean breakfast steaks I had eaten for years.

The Year of The Couch wasn’t a protest or a grand statement but there was an underlying sentiment to why I turned my back on exercise for a short period of time.  I was tired of being skinny.  Actually, I wasn’t tired of being skinny but I was tired of other people telling me I was skinny.  “I’ll just sit on the couch and get fat.  That’ll show them.  Hrumphhh.”

Not only was the Year of the Couch a dumb idea; it didn’t even work.  I didn’t get fat.  In fact, I hardly got out of shape at all.  I may have gained 5 to 7 pounds and my abs were a little softer than normal but I barely showed any signs of outofshapeness.  Boy, I really showed them didn’t I?  After reentering my normal world of hyperactivity, I found myself in prime shape within a few months.

I want to compare that experience in 2004 with my experience of the last few months of 2011.

Yes, once again I have, unwillingly this time, dedicated myself to sitting on a couch…AT STARBUCKS!!!  OMG! What have I done?  I have probably been active less than a dozen times since August.  Though I am still in decent shape, my body has suffered a worse fate than it did in 2004.  I am noticeably softer, noticeably flabbier, and noticeably less inclined to run inclines.

The initiation of downward spirals often go unnoticed until the momentum is at a runaway pace.  Luckily, I have caught this progression before it is too late (I hope).  Yesterday, I hit the Enterprise South mountain biking trails hard with a nonstop full circuit.  Today, I rode the riverwalk for 17 miles and ran 6 sets of inclines at the Chickamauga Dam all the while hearing the soft lull of “Tramond” beckoning me back to fitness.

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