The Failed Experiment

At the beginning of the summer, I played a game of Ultimate Frisbee in the rain with a few guys. I got my ass kicked in more than one way that day. For one, I made a brand new scar when the disc hit me square on the schnoz.



For two, I found that I could only run and keep up for about 10 minutes. After that I felt like someone was sewing a pocket onto my stomach. I didn't much like that feeling.

A couple weeks later, I received word that I'd been "drafted" into the Ultimate League in Stewartstown. I was excited because, even though I'd roughed myself up a bit that day in the rain, I had a ton of fun. So much fun, in fact, that while on Retreat, we played couple of awesome games during some free time. The result was much the same as the previous game: so much fun, but soo much crampiness and discomfort. The next day at the beach, I was inspired to go on a run with a friend. Jimmy, the friend, is a high-schooler who runs track and plays soccer. He is therefore in much better shape than this old man. The run felt good, tho. Probably the first time in my life that running for running's sake felt good. I was intrigued.

About a week or so after returning from Retreat, I announced to Loban (the roommate) that I wanted to try to start running in the morning before work. This was to try to get into some semblance of physical fitness for the upcoming Ultimate season. He was very enthusiastic about joining me in my venture, so we decided to start the following Monday.

We were on track for the first week--almost. Friday it rained. A lot. I didn't really feel up to it and Loban was not down with getting soaked unless it was exclusively from his own sweat. So no running took place that soggy morning. With that, we decided to avoid environmental factors altogether by using the small workout room that is provided by our apartment complex. We did that for the next week and a half or so. It was working pretty well: we would do the stationary bike or the treadmill for about 10-15 minutes each day. Doesn't sound that hard, but I was faced with some serious challenges.

The real challenge wasn't the workout itself; even though that was tough at times, that wasn't what overwhelmed me. No... the real bitch to get over was getting up early. That and I have terrible eating habits, and decent nutrition is key to getting in shape.

Those two obstacles turned out to be too much for me to overcome. My Early Morning Excercise Project didn't make it into week 4, whereas Loban kept it up for a week longer than I did, then quit too.

For me, it became a constant struggle that brought me back to my childhood: My fight against bedtime. I tried to give myself a bedtime between midnight and 12:30 because if I wanted to be able to function the next day, I had to get to bed earlier, because I was getting up earlier. Turns out getting to bed by bedtime, regardless of who set it for me, is not something I can do. There's too much stuff that I want to do later at night for me to go to bed that early. I have been slightly nocturnal since a young age, and I've finally realized that there's no fighting it (not that I wanted to before...).

It was a matter of clashing lifestyles. In the end, it came to a decision: either live my life normally or keep throwing my life outta whack in the pursuit of a bit of endurance on the Ultimate field. I opted to give myself the self-satisfaction of staying up later. I enjoy it. I do still wish I could find time to go and make myself into a person who cares about their level of physical fitness, but apparently I'm more ok with being out of breath during games than I would be with forcing myself to hit the hay prematurely.

The irony of the situation is that both things (going to bed early and getting up early to work out) were both "for my own good". They were also both changes that, if I was to succeed in undertaking them, I would need to use some self-discipline. Apparently I'm not real big on that, which disappoints me.

Near the end, while my desire to go exercise was still present but the realization that this might not be the time of day to do it was on the horizon, I felt increasingly icky about bailing on both Loban (and myself) each morning. The first few times I bailed it was because I was getting over a bout of Celiac-related problems, so it was legit. At first.

Then I started agonizing each morning over whether I'd go or not, feeling bad if I didn't. It came to be an annoyance to wake up because I knew I'd be deciding whether or not I was going to stick to it. Ignore the fact that 'to decide' is not one of my favorite verbs in the first place, but then combine it with my least favorite time of day, and add in a sense of failure I got after making my decision...well...let's just say it sucked.

I do still have the desire to get into some sort of healthy regular exercise routine, but first I need to find the time to fit it in, and work on my nutrition.

It's strange, because I was not into playing sports when I was young. (I played soccer until middle school or so.) But now I'm I'm being more active this summer than I've ever been. First this fitness kick, then Ultimate. And I still play volleyball on Tuesday nights in New Freedom, which continues to be fun. The sports in the evening thing seems to be something that I can do. Maybe there's a hint for future physical endeavors in this pattern...

Maybe I'm a LATE bloomer in more than one sense of the phrase.