Inspiration and Wonder from My Time as a Personal Trainer

No, no one's hired me as a personal trainer. I decided I would help my son succeed in his first attempt at competing in an individual sport: cross country running in the Public School system. He's eight years old.

My son has always struggled physically. He's not physically handicapped but he has other emotional struggles that have limited him in the past. He has always lagged behind with his fine motor skills and is even surpassed by some things that his four-year old sister can do. As his father who loves him, I have fiercely tried to help him overcome these limitations.

He's active but not a "jock." He's not a sports-oriented kid by any means. He's played soccer and it was a struggle. Mostly he doesn't participate in the games and is overwhelmed by the whole thing, but he happened to be on three teams that won A or B-side trophies so he felt proud and happy about the experience. 

Cycling is something that got into him at an early age, long before his dad could even get on a bike, so it wasn't me who influenced him. He runs around a lot, but not for sustained periods. In fact, he used to skip or hop involuntarily after taking only a few strides while running. This slowed him down in his soccer games. His coordination has been very slow to develop but it's coming along.

Even as a fat kid I had a whole lot of fun playing unorganized sports when I was a kid. I was no jock either but I had fun. In a world where obesity seems like an unstoppable epidemic, I want to encourage my kids to embrace an active lifestyle for the rest of their lives.

I started my son training about a month or so before his first race. I put him on the treadmill at home which he's used before, but mostly because he's seen me using it. He'd walk fast and hop every few steps involuntarily. It was unnatural and a little bit concerning. He loved looking at the numbers and seeing how far and how fast he was going. That continued into our training.

I got him to jog at a speed that prevented him from hopping every few steps. The treadmill forced him to keep going in a continuous, fluid motion. His heart and lungs could more than keep up at that speed. Soon he was asking me if it was time to do his training each day. He made charts to put on the wall to track his progress and even set goals for himself. I'm so proud of him.

Quickly, the hopping disappeared and he was getting faster and faster, covering the 1.2 KM distance of the race. He started running 1.2 KM at 10 minutes and 40 seconds. As he progressed, he pushed himself further to beat his "record" times. And he did, shaving 30 seconds or more off when he tried hard. I told him that you try to shave one or two seconds off when you're doing this sort of thing but he proved me wrong time and time again.

His last training session on the treadmill came in at 6:12. When we started, I had hoped he'd get down to 7:30. In the qualifying race he came in 14th and got to go onto the final race of fifty kids. We never dreamed he'd do that well. In his final race he came in 23rd. We call him the 23 fastest eight year old in the city. Had he shaved another 20 seconds off, he'd be the fastest. It's been surreal, especially since the kid couldn't even run properly when we started.

Even now he doesn't hold his arms up in a punching like motion when he runs. Instead, he flails them around randomly. We worked on this a bit at the end and made some progress. But it illustrates how physical things don't come naturally to him.

So what have I learned?

It was an astonishingly wonderful gift to watch my son's body and technique improve the way it did in a few weeks. And it was hardly work for him. The kid barely broke a sweat. 

Even in the last week, I could see his heart and lungs getting undeniably stronger from the training he did the week before. He could do far more at the same breathing level than he did a few days earlier. An eight year old's body can repair itself and strengthen really fast. A night's sleep does the trick.

I've seen this progress in myself, measured by constant heart-rate monitoring. But to see it happen before your eyes in a person you love is beyond description.

It reinforces the notion that you are the master of your body. You can change your body and it is ready to change for you. 

Running, I hope, will be a part of my son's life until the day he dies. He needs it, not only to stay healthy physically, but for all the psychological benefits it will bring him as well.

I'm Winning My Fight Against Obesity

My body continues to get smaller. My clothing sizes are changing. Most importantly, I've shed my disabilities by vastly improving my fitness level.

Even in months where my pounds don't decrease, I am boosted by the fact my fitness level is increasing. This I can control, very easily. Eating control is a lot more complex and difficult. And for me, maintaining exercise on a regular basis helps me want to be more in control of how I eat.

People so want to be "skinny." They so want to be a "normal" unfat person. It's the end all and be all for so many overweight people. It was for me fifteen years ago until I realized being thin didn't solve any of my problems.

Today, as a middle aged man, I'm focused on my physical ability. A year and a bit ago I thought I was on a short road to an early death. I had lost much of the use of my body. I was helplessly sedentary. Just rolling over in bed was a big deal.

It's not any more. I could stand to lose another 140 pounds of fat but it doesn't matter that much to me. What matters is my health and the fact that I have one hell of a strong heart these days. I've regained the ability to participate in everyday activities most people take for granted, everyday activities I was unable to do for much of the last ten years.

For me, my quest for "normal" is now a quest for a normal physical ability, not a normal body size. I am fat, but I don't feel fat. I haven't for a long time. I feel good about myself. A year ago I'd insist on "driving" the shopping cart at grocery stores with my family because I was ashamed of my body and leery of my capability of walking around the store without something to lean on. I'd return home exhausted and sore from head to toe. Nowadays I could tip the shopping cart on it's end and dance on top it. Well, almost.

As I achieve frequent new milestones with my journey to physically improve myself and ever increase my abilities, I am thankful for two things. The first, obviously, is my medical clinic which supports me. I needed that little nudge of guidance and encouragement to get me going.

Secondly, I have found that I am thankful for the gift of knowledge. Knowledge about the basics of physical fitness and how the body works. I'm far, far away from being an expert and I've got lots to learn, but I very much regret entering adulthood awfully ignorant of how the body works. All this should have been taught in school, but it wasn't, at least not for me.

The book that changed my life was The New Fit or Fat by Covert Bailey. The author was very well known in the early 90s for his PBS TV appearances. His best selling book taught the basics a fat person needs to know about changing their body. He argued that people are either fit or fat. Even thin people can be fat if they're not fit. And fat people can be fit. I'm getting to be one of those people now.

I learned about using heart rate monitoring for any and all exercise as a way to improve my fitness. I learned that the body adapts to whatever you do. He taught me the importance of making the muscles in your lower body hard and strong through gentle aerobic exercise such as walking. Finally, I learned how to quickly monitor and improve my fitness through this knowledge.

The book is now all but forgotten, and the author retired. I'm sure there are many other great books out there, but I strongly encourage you to learn about your body. You need to know how fitness works even if you never plan to put on a running shoe for the rest of your life.

I am tremendously lucky to have the gift of this knowledge. It's the foundation my future health is built upon.

My friend Jay lent me the book in 1993 when we were both underemployed and struggling. I took it to heart and never forgot its lessons. Without this knowledge, I'd be just another struggling dieter.

The Incredible Lift My Podiatrist Gave Me

Many of you have applauded me for being very enthusiastic about my fitness quest. But there was a dark cloud for me. It was the pain in my lower legs/ankles (mostly from tendons, I'm told) during jogging. It happened a few minutes in and caused me discomfort that subsided a few minutes after I finished.

This was a barrier to me being all I wanted to be physically. Now, I'm over 300 pounds still, and jogging probably could have been a bit much for me, but I suspected that it was something else. The rest of my legs did fine. This part of my leg would fatigue long before the rest of my legs.

I have high arches--very high arches. You can limbo under them. They've never really been addressed, until now. I decided to take advantage of my wife's work medical coverage and seek out an opinion from a foot professional.

Right away he saw significant problems with the way I walk. Friends have been telling me that I walk funny ever since I was in high school. Shoe salespeople could do little to help me.

I got my custom orthotics yesterday. They cost me $420! My insurance will pay for most of that, but boy, that's a lot money. A computer scans the bottom of your feet. They send the data away, and in a couple of weeks you get custom insoles to put in your shoes. They last a couple of years. I plan on mine lasting a hundred years.

I took them for a jog and I couldn't believe that I for once didn't feel discomfort in my lower leg tendons. The lower legs felt as the upper parts of my legs did. My legs were getting a work out, but there was no pain. I felt like I could go on forever.

This is huge for me. It opens up the potential for me to progress physically with no boundaries. I no longer have this problem holding me back. In short, I need feel I can get as fit as I want to. My jogging time can now start increasing up to a length I'm happy with, say twenty minutes or so, for now.

I've said before that there are probably a thousand things that led to my severe obesity. Bad feet was probably one of them.

The Fire in My Belly

When I started this process, I think the Tanita body composition scale said I was something like 200 pounds over-weight. I had a BMI of nearly 50. I really have yet to improve upon those numbers that much. Maybe more importantly of note, I had lived an ever-deteriorating sedentary lifestyle (how could I not have with those numbers?)

Over the two years prior to the start of my change I more and more often felt disabled. It's not that I was lamenting not being able to run a marathon, but that I couldn't do normal, able-bodied person things like stand up for an extended period, for example. I began to avoid everyday, common situations that might be too physically demanding for me. A social invitation had to be analysed: Could I fit in the booth at that restaurant? Could I handle being outside in the heat at a barbecue? I was feeling less and less capable. I was concerned that I was becoming truly disabled.

A severely overweight person misses out on a lot of things. Lacking speed and agility on the playground as a kid was only the beginning of my life's problems, not to mention the social stigma of being overweight (I wonder if it's any easier nowadays since there a lot more kids with weight problems.) The one time I tried out for organized sports when I was a child, I was sent home for being too heavy. There was a weight limit on the pee-wee football team. I could give you a thousand such examples. I  won't give them all to you at once, but I'll spread some of them out in other posts over time.

A fat person grows up feeling shackled, unable to do everything that a normal (healthy) person does, unable to live life to the fullest, unable to do everything they want to. Every day growing up they are more and more conditioned into believing they are not equal to the healthy majority.

This is why there's a fire in my belly. An exercise fire. I am determined to change my body to make it the healthiest, strongest, most capable I can. And walking's just not going to cut it.

I've been told for years by medical professionals to walk. Walking is healthy and is an excellent exercise for anyone of any age and any fitness level. But it only goes so far in changing the body to make it all it can be. I yearn to be more fit.

The fire was stoked last night when I went on a bike ride with my young son through every nook and cranny of our subdivision. It was casual, it was easy and I felt like I did when I was a kid. It brought me back to moments and evenings of riding my bike when I was young and the feelings of freedom and the fun that I had. Throughout the years, and through many bicycles, I've often felt I had a special relationship with my given bike of the day that involved bonding and trust. I once again have that relationship with my bike. If that sounds hokey, you've never been a passionate cyclist.

Those around me through the years have sometimes categorized me as someone who won't grow up. A very few frustrating people have thumbed their noses at me every time I did or said something less than serious. I pity this type of serious, constrained, often joyless person. There's nothing wrong with having fun and letting your guard down as an adult. There's nothing wrong we staying young. I've been a happier person and a better person for it.

But a person with a serious weight problem frequently misses out on those good feelings for all kinds of reasons. We often feel restrictions from being socially ostracised, not being able to participate in everything that life has to offer, or simply from the mindset you develop where you think you can't or shouldn't do a lot of things because of your weight. I never allowed myself to swim in public, for example (more on that on another day.) Is there anything more fun than playing in water? I missed out on that.

My medical professionals always seem to be telling me to take it easy and concentrate on changing my lifestyle in a lasting way. They remind me to be patient. But once the shackles start coming off, you want it all. If a person confined to a wheel chair for much of his or her life could suddenly walk, I'm sure they'd want to run. And run and run! That analogy might be a little overblown, but I hope it helps you better understand how I feel.

I do worry that, like with so many other things with me, it'll be all or nothing when it comes to fitness. I fear that I might not have the time or enthusiasm some day and just stop (again.)

For now, though, my life-long profession is that of athlete. I want to become a little more fit every day and start taking back what I've missed out on. That means jogging, cycling and having access to equipment at the gym. At the core of my fitness routine will be walking, but there's so much more my body is capable of, and it's exhilarating to discover that every day.

Obesity and Employment: Remembering the Way Things Were

I was asked earlier in the summer to remember how things were before I started exercising this spring and to write them down so I'd not forget. At the time I spoke of what dramatic changes I had seen in my energy levels and my everyday physical abilities.

You may have already read that last winter I found myself confined to a bed most of the day. I was too sore, too tired, too weak to do much more. As a stay at home parent, I began to regret my lack of physical ability to give my children all the attention they deserved.

My main activity with my three-year-old daughter was to read stories in bed with her during the day while my wife worked. I didn't have much energy to look after the house either. Putting a load of dishes into the dishwasher was a big deal. I really wasn't a shining example of a stay at home dad.

What's surprising to me now is how quickly I have forgotten the details of my daily life back then even though it was just a few months ago. I really need to not forget. I'm hoping this blog will help.

As a stay at home parent, I did poorly at my "job" due to my physical limitations (that were ever-deteriorating, it seemed.) I didn't much imagine myself with an actual job, with responsibilities, long days and unable to lay in bed whenever I required.

I do work a few days a year as a comic actor in film and television. It's a long, sordid story how I became an actor, so I won't bore you with it. I don't pursue acting, but sometimes I am pursued, mostly by people I know, to do the occasional comedy acting gig in front of a camera.

Most people, even those who share my affliction, might assume that motion picture acting is perfectly doable for someone with a severe weight problem. I was starting to find that this is not the case. I was becoming less than capable of the job physically. I began to struggle with the simplest of tasks.

In the last couple of years I'd have a hard time getting out of chairs in a scene. Or walking up a flight of stairs without gasping and sweating profusely. There's a long tradition of "fat" comic actors in North American, but I was getting too big and too limited to be an appealing choice for directors.

Last year I was asked to audition for a small one-time role in a national TV show. I was asked by a friend who produced the show who thought I'd be suitable for the part. He knew my abilities as a comic actor and probably thought the audition would just be a formality. But I had to walk up four flights of stairs to get to the audition and even after a half hour of waiting in the heat, still sweating profusely, I couldn't remember my name when it came time to perform, let alone my lines. I was completely humiliated and thought I'd never act again.

In the spring of this year, just as I was starting to make changes in my life through the support of my medical clinic, I suffered another humiliation. I was asked to audition for a bank commercial that could possibly lead to further promotional work. I nailed the audition comedy-wise and was a top two finalist, but in the end, they didn't want me promoting their bank based on my physical appearance (showbiz is a cruel profession.)

Last week I performed in what was probably the largest role of my 25 year (casual) acting career, at least largest in the quantity of the part (it's a low-budget web series.) When I was hired for it in April, I did a screen test with the acquaintance who asked me to be in his project. In that screen test I worried about my ability to get up out of a chair. In fact, it was quite difficult and I struggled.

But last week, when it came time to actually make the show, I was a different man. Last week I didn't have any problems putting in a nine or ten hour day (I actually asked at the outset not to have days longer than 8 hours, which they often are.) I didn't have any problem walking three quarters of a block away to change my costume a dozen times in a day. I didn't have any problems walking up and down steps, and I didn't have any problems getting out of chairs. I couldn't have done this capably a year ago, or even a few months ago.

The truth is, when I was hired for this in the spring, I had no idea if I could actually do it due to my health. If I hadn't started getting in shape, this project would have been extremely difficult for me, I would have likely faltered and suffered further humiliation. However, as it turned out, I aced the role and my acting career will live to see another day.

But I have to remember what things were like before I started exercising. It's important to my long term success.