Sunday, January 29, 2012

Somewhere between 180.4 and 181.6

We're coming up on the 1 year anniversary of my gastric bypass surgery.  We're essentially 5 days away.  More that 51 weeks have elapsed since the surgeons re-piped my guts.

Hard to believe a year has already come and gone.  I entered Providence Hospital in Burbank on Friday morning, February 4th, 2011.  They released me on January 6ths around 2pm.  I was home in time for the Super Bowl.  This year, the Super Bowl falls on Feb 5th.

So, I haven't reported on my fitness level much in this new year of 2012.  This week, my weight has been hovering between 180 to 182.  Yesterday morning, I clocked in at 180.4.  Just a few moments ago, it was 181.6.  These are normal fluctuation having to do with hydration level, time of day, whether you just evacuated, or just ate, just came out of the sauna, or just finished a little Mac-N-Cheese.

Regardless, this is the lowest my weight has ever been during my entire adult life.  Prior to this epoch, my lowest (consistent) body weight was around 192 pounds.  This was during my time in the U.S. Army.  This was circa 1989-1991.  This is when I was around 22-24 years old.  Hearken back to the end of the Joe Montana epoch in San Francisco 49er history.

Here we are, some 22 years later, and I am around -10 pounds lighter than that.  Furthermore, I fairly certain that I am leaner, and that I have greater muscle mass levels.  I didn't do much weightlifting during my time in the U.S. Army.  Army fitness was about body-weight calisthenics and cardiovascular fitness.  We did a lot of running in formation.  I also did some biking and Olympic rowing in those days,  I had no idea what a kettlebell was in those days.

Not many guys can say they are lighter, leaner, and stronger at age 45 than they were at 22.  Fewer still can say this if they were in pretty good shape at 22.  I can.  I am downright gaunt these days.  Muscle definition is showing all over my arms and shoulders.  The splits between muscle groups is pronounced on my calves and starting to show on my thighs.  Big gnarly vascularity shows in my calf muscles and forearms.

Most folks who see me have no clue I was ever fat.  Most people think I am a goddamn liar when I tell them what happened in 2011.

I have a fairly hilarious story to report for you on this point.  My brother's band swung through SoCal on the last leg of their current tour this weekend.  I caught the act on Friday night at the EchoPlex where they debuted their new music video.  Saturday night, they played in Santa Barbara, roughly 60 miles away from me, where my Mom caught his act.

Ben and I had dinner with our mom last night in Santa Barbara before the show.  Her response to my latest physical changes were hilarious.  She told me I was looking terribly gaunt; emaciated like a super model.  I just had to begin eating more.  I was going to have to set my wrist watch alarm and eat on a schedule.  I was just going to have to make an effort to eat more.

It is very mama-like for a mama to ask her son if he is eating enough.  It is very mama-like behavior to insist that your son eat better, or more.  However, I can solemnly assure you I have never heard any such talk before during my 45 years of life... At any point.  Never has my mother counseled me to eat more, or insisted that I eat on a more frequent schedule.

My brother and I ever rotflmao-ing over this, when he decided to pour fuel on the fire.  He mentioned I was about 20 pounds lighter than he is (currently) and a couple of inches taller.  Ben also mentioned that he believed I looked downright lanky now.  Of course, there was a mischievousness involved here.  He was trying to stir things up for the hell of it.

Of course, eating on a more frequent schedule is a good idea for body building purposes.

I just wish I could get over this carpal tunnel syndrome so I could rejoin a proper CrossFit gym and get back on the regular program.  I am enjoying my own private workouts, but I am certain I could learn more, and push harder with a full program and a regular coach.