Today I had a quarterly checkup with my physician. I’m on medication to control my blood pressure and cholesterol. Since our family has a history of heart disease, I’ve needed for some time to be more proactive in reducing my risk for heart attack or stroke. It hasn’t helped that, for the past few years, I’ve been overweight. (To be honest, I’ve been, technically speaking, obese, although few people who look at me would say I’m overweight. My wife and physician are the notable exceptions.)
The doctor was encouraged to see that I’d lost seven pounds since my last visit, and he was happy to hear I’d been getting exercise. He also noted that I seem a lot more upbeat. I asked him what criteria he’d use so that I could get off the medication; he said that he wanted to see a twelve months of good numbers.
I’m mildly surprised at how running has affected my demeanor. We’re on day two of what looks to be a three-day span of rainy weather. This weather normally gets me down, but, for some reason, it’s not phasing me. Perhaps having run in the rain yesterday has something to do with it: I don’t feel like the weather has imprisoned me under my own roof. Or perhaps my body has become less sensitive to the alternation of nights and sunny days than it had been.
The one temporary downside to all this running is that, having lost several pounds, I find myself in that odd no-man’s land between even waist sizes. I don’t mind wearing loosely fitting clothing, but I’m looking even more rumpled than usual, and I’m feeling a little bit ridiculous.
I’ve not settled on a routine of scheduling rest days yet, even though I’m limiting myself to five days of running per week. To schedule consistent rest days is something of a challenge, because I have to balance running with chauffeuring kids to and fro. This week, however, it will work well for me to run Tuesday and Wednesday, rest on Thursday, and then to run Friday, Saturday, and Sunday.
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