Reflections on the last 90 days

Greetings!

There's a lot to sum up; a great deal--of me--has changed in the last few months. Let's start with the numbers...

The stats

Day 1:

Weight: 166 lbs
BMI: 24.1
Body Fat %: 23 (est.)

Day 90:

Weight: 141.6
BMI: 20.4
Body Fat %: 11.7

Total weight lost: 24.4 lbs

Total pounds of fat lost: 21.6 lbs


Better than numbers

Day 10:



Day 90:





Old threads...

...hmm... a little baggy...

New threads:

That's more like it.

This is just as important as any of the pseudo-intellectual babel you're going to read later, so let's do it first...



Thanks!


First, to my roommates, Mike and Rob, who were not just supportive but, even more important, shockingly apathetic. I commandeered the common areas of our house for my work-outs, used up all the dishes for my meals, blasted stale rock music for an hour a day, and sweated like a horse all over the living room. Thanks for caring and, especially, for not caring.

To my jump-rope, food scale, exercise bands, push-up bars, yoga mat, and steel bar--thanks for taking the abuse and lasting so long. I'll have to try harder to wear you out. (Except the food scale--you've earned your retirement).

To my friend and grad school colleague Julie, who reacted with "woah, you've got some Lance Armstrong going on!," and not, "Wow! You're so skinny now!" or "Hey, have you recently lost a ton of weight?!"

To everyone who reacted with, "Wow! You're so skinny now!" or "Hey, have you recently lost a ton of weight?!" Keep it coming--it's only going to help me crank out more squats, dips and pull-ups.

To the cute girl at the bar for the quite unmistakable eye-contact, just because I walked in dressed all nice.

To my family, for (as usual) supporting me unconditionally in whatever the hell I want to do. Sometimes I actually remember just how rare that can be, and I'm grateful for it.

To everyone who suffered the before- or after-math of any of my meals--actually, I don't care. I'm probably going to keep eating all of those eggs. Deal.

To my friends who I didn't get to see as much these past 90 days--which is most of you--our friendship is very important to me, and I want it to last a long time. Which is why I did this thing.

To Nancy, Rob, Molly, and all of my other enviro-fascist friends--thanks for inspiring me to subscribe to the CSA, hit the farmer's market, and, ultimately, join your ranks.

To Jenny and Grace--it humbles me greatly to think that I could inspire anyone to do anything, and much more to do something this intense and challenging. You're both doing great--keep it up! (...I'll be watching ;)

Thanks to everybody who spied on my blog or Facebook page and posted comments--especially Ren and the other 'upperclassmen' of the PCP. Your encouragement and suggestions meant
A TON, and helped pull me back from the edge on many, many occasions.

Finally, a HUGE thanks to all of my fellow PCPers, the 'Rats: Mikhael, Kristen, Todd, Jennifer, Jason, and Maren. You guys kept me inspired, and kept me honest, and I hope I was able to send even a fraction of what you gave to me back in your direction.

And, of course, to Patrick--thanks, dude.



For those currently working their Project, or anyone who will be at some point in the future, here's a brief action-item summary for your benefit (and, actually, for mine--once this little post-PCP break is over):

Things I could have done better.
-More sleep--so important for muscle growth! Add it to your lists of exercises. Check it off when complete--i.e., 8 hours.
-Don't over-cook your eggs; 11-12 minutes, tops (depending on your altitude, of course). Or, alternately, eat them raw. You'll need as much protein, with as much quality, as you can get from your grams.
-8-minute abs are terrific--I wish I would have done them more consistently. Hopefully they'll make more regular appearances in my routine in the weeks, months--and year--ahead.
-Stretching--period.
-Super-sets. There's no break between exercises; don't put one there. (Luckily, I caught this in time for the last day--and the burn was exquisite.)

Things I just had to accept.
-Gas. Nasty, socially-awkward, and sometimes rancid. Get over it. Better yet, REVEL in it--we're animals, and this is just another bodily function.
-Form on the exercises is going to suck initially--to learn to ride a bike, you need to first learn how to fall off of it. Keep trying, and it'll become more graceful (but not easier!) with time.
-Saying no to many social opportunities, if they would leave me with unacceptable choices such as eating poorly, or cutting out exercises. Meet for coffee. Coffee is better for socializing, anyway; less food in your mouth, more time to talk.

Things I nailed.
-I NEVER missed a work-out--no matter how late or early in the day, where in the U.S. (or wherever) I was, or how tired I was.
-With the exception of two separate occasions where I skipped a single exercise (Kung-Fu sit-ups), I ALWAYS got in ALL of my sets. (And don't ever skip the Kung-Fus--they really do make you strong!)
-Except on a handful of occasions where I was stuck on the road and had to improvise a bit--and one early lapse for Ethiopian food--I kept the diet to a "T". (Outside of my indulgences, Wednesday was the first day I tasted cheese on a salad in 3 months).

That being said, I was lucky to have relatively few distractions, and despite the odds, I never caught a cold or bug. Yours may be a much more challenging Project in these respects. The point is not to be perfect 100% of the time--as I've noted on many occasions, over many blog entries, I'm certainly not. The real point is to become aware of what you are doing to yourself--your activity and what you are eating--and take responsibility for them. Being overweight or out-of-shape is a consequence of choosing to be inactive and eat garbage. Once I realized that it's a choice, I became empowered. I started to see all of the tiny, yet crucial, pivot-points in my day that led me to become, year after sedentary year, the guy in the first set of photos. The last 90 days on the Project has taught me how to recognize the decision points--and make the choices--that have allowed me to become the guy in the last set.


The Unexpected Activist

I read a LOT during the past 90 days: e-mails, blogs, 3 books (including two by Michael Pollan).
I've joined a CSA (Community Sponsored Agriculture) program. I've learned how to cook a rutabaga, okra, beets, artichokes, and many other things I'd always passed by in the produce isle. I've become a HUGE devotee of my local farmer's market, and committed to buying almost ALL of my produce there.

I've gained a much greater understanding of why our culture is so unhealthy. For me, the consequences of our dysfunctional food culture, and the twisted economics of its production and distribution system, have hit very close to home. Just over a year ago, my family lost a member to Type II diabetes when my step-brother passed away. He was just 27. It was terrible--there is nothing to describe losing a brother at a young age. My father, my aunts, and my uncles all suffer diseases directly related to the Western diet. Their children have already ingrained many of the habits that will lead them straight to development of the same conditions--and probably much earlier in life, since they are even less active than their parents were at their age.

We are cannibalizing ourselves--not literally, but socially, economically. Some of us, to make yet more money, are pumping addiction into our food culture, just to earn a higher rate of return than would ever be possible in more natural markets. So naturally, we're suffering the consequences. The corn syrup, sugar, fat, and salt we consume are in some ways no different, fundamentally, than the coca, nicotine, THC, and alcohol that we warn children about until they turn 18 or 21 and hopefully know enough to make the right choice (though many still don't). Both sets of chemicals make us feel good; in small doses, both are practically harmless or, in the case of the former, necessary. And both, taken to their excesses, as we have been doing, yield the same results, almost as quickly: lower quality-of-life, sickness, and death.

In as many interactions as possible with my family, friends, and colleagues, I've tried to share (but not shove) what I've learned. I've given away or lent out several Michael Pollan books--and will continue to do so, along with anything else that may start a conversation or a debate, and maybe lead to a little change. Whatever else I can do, I'll do. But I know that the strongest statement, the one with the most powerful influence, is how I live my life. And that's reason enough to stay true to what I've learned over the past 3 months.

*****

Life on the PCP is like trying to solve a giant, ever-changing socio-biological equation; your challenge is to keep it as balanced as possible. It's easier to attend to tangible, quantifiable elements such as your diet, sets, and reps; it's far more difficult, at least at the outset, to attend to less quantifiable needs like sleep, shopping, and cooking time. Especially when many of us have been conditioned to adhere to the economically efficient rhythms of the 9-5 desk job, while ignoring or blocking out feelings of fatigue, thirst, and hunger. We start out counting grams and checking off sets because our minds and our bodies have grown so distant; we're like two people from completely foreign cultures trying to give one another directions to the same place, at the same time, in different languages. It's taken time and a lot of effort, but I've become much more aware of what my body is telling me, and much more willing to listen.

At first, writing about my experiences while dieting and exercising seemed totally alien. Looking back, I don't think there's a more effective way I could have approached working toward my physical potential. I simultaneously became the author of my own change and the narrator of its story. Doing so, I internalized that change, slowly filling the gap between the current and future me, until they finally met in a present that's other--yet so much more--than what I was aiming for.

And I'm not "done." Day 90 is much less the end of the Peak Condition Project, and much more the beginning of a new way of life.

Peace,

-Brett