Getting in Shape Kind of Sucks
January 25, 2011, By Craig J. Heimbuch 3 comments
Man it was easier being content with being fat. I slept more, ate what I wanted and only ran when being chased (and even then I weighed the consequences of getting caught by whatever manner of beast against the effort of running before I let fight or flight take over). Sure I was bound for ill-fitting clothes, never being comfortable and an early grave, but nothing comes without a price.
The biggest price of letting myself go was not the taut fit of my jeans, it was something more, deeper: shame and regret. I used to be in pretty good shape. No six-pack or anything like that, but pretty decent. I played tennis competitively four days a week, more when it was in season. And I'm not one of those guys who drones on about how great they were in high school - God knows there are enough of them - but I came across my student ID from my senior year and almost didn't recognize the guy in the photo. It's not fair for anyone to compare their 32-year-old self to their 17-year-old self, but looking at that picture next to recent ones, there was almost no basis for comparison. I was stunned and felt a certain creep of guilt, like I had cheated myself out of my 20s somehow by abandoning physical pursuit.
That's not to say that I did nothing physical in my 20s, but certainly nothing consistently. I would work out for a month, then quit, or hit the treadmill in advance of a backpacking trip. But for the most part, nothing. I can't say I ever really thought about who I was hurting - including myself - by allowing my midsection to expand like a dead fish on the beach. But something happened recently, something inexplicable. I started seeing fitness as being less about me and more about the people I love.
When you are young and going for a six-pack, it's about health, sure, but also vanity and ego. Vanity and ego start to go, as you get older. You get married, you have kids. You have a career and a house. You have priorities that start to remove you from your small, insular world and force you to look outward. Used to be I might drive without a seat belt. Whatever, I'm a great driver, right? Well, I don't want my children to pick up that habit, so now I buckle it every time.
The same goes for fitness. I want to set a good example for my children. I want them to stay healthy and to see me devote myself to something hard. And my wife deserves better. After three kids, she's never been more beautiful and yet her husband - a former athlete, tall and lean - is starting to look like he swallowed a beach ball. That's not fair to her now is it? A month or so ago, I wouldn't have thought about it, but I saw the pictures that came back after our daughter was born and was appalled. My wife was beautiful, our daughter as well. Our sons were tall and lean and then there was me - mushy. I was the family patriarch, but also the physical pariah. Something had to change, but I had no idea how to do just that - change.
I went and asked a coworker, Sean Brown - who found himself in a similar situation two years ago but is now training for his second marathon - what he did to get to where he is. He told me about the Couch to 5K program and introduced me to running writer and guru Joe Maruchella. I told Joe about my situation and together we devised the Whole New Dad training program now featured on this site. Similar to the Couch to 5K program you can find out there, this program is about a simple program and attainable goals. Joe does a great job of identifying with dads because he is one. He knows that fitness in your 30s and 40s is not about vanity; it's about something bigger.
I got a sneak preview of Joe's program, which runs every Wednesday in our Feeling Good section, and got a jump-start on the program. I was stunned how hard it was to run for one minute for that first running workout. Even more stunned how much I looked forward to the second. The program is simple, but that doesn't mean it is without sacrifice. I drag myself out of bed three days a week earlier than I would care to admit to go to the gym. I plugged in a podcast - usually Stuff You Should Know - and get to work. Some days, I feel like could go forever. Some days, I want to die with every step.
The first time I ran the fourth week program, I felt great for 90 percent of it, but felt myself dragging to clear the last eighth of a mile. I thought I would quit. I thought there were literally a million other things I wished I was doing at that moment - and I was right. But a strange thing happened. I saw those pictures from after Molly was born. I saw the picture from my high school yearbook of me hitting a tennis ball and I thought of all those little moments, all those misguided decisions that got me to where I am. I thought about mistakes and wiped the slate clean. I looked forward. I tried to imagine the photos of Molly's first birthday. I tried to imagine being back out on the tennis court.
But before I could get a clear picture, I looked down at the treadmill monitor and realized - I was done. For that day any way.
There are a million reasons to not get in shape. A million excuses to stay in bed. But if you are like me - married with three kids - you realize that there are four better ones to get your ass moving. And they will be waiting for you when you drag yourself home to the gym.
So, yes, getting is shape kind of sucks. But it's hard to think of anything else more worth it.
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