The Eight Measures of my Success

A year ago I was ON FIRE, working out, feeling GREAT, and losing weight. This September I'm exhausted, frustrated, fighting food cravings, sedentary, and regaining a bit of weight. As I look to turn it all around, I was jotting down a few notes - after all, I know EXACTLY how to do this! The hard part isn't "doing" any aspect of this - it's being CONSISTENT. And when I was writing down all my daily health & fitness metrics I want to hit ... it felt like too much.
Too hard. Too complicated.

So? Simplify, dumbass!

Each of these metrics had a LOT behind it, but hell, I know what to do! It just felt too hard to hit ALL EIGHT of these ... every DAMN day. So ... I figured ... since I was failing at being perfect, what would be the "minimum effective dose"? Rather than beating myself up for not hitting 100%, what would 70% look like?

Then I thought, make it even easier, dumbass! Don't 'score' or weight these by impact - each one is a Y/N answer every day, and out of a possible 8, how about if I just aim to always hit at least 5?

If I do 5 of these, EVERY day, that'll pretty much kick ass! That should be an easy calculation every day, and 'should' be something I can catch up each night while watching TV before bed.

In the meantime, here is what each one means to me:

1. 10k steps. Self explanatory. I don't care if it's a Rucking day, Mall Shopping, or Lawn Mowing. 10k per day.

2. Fast until hitting my Blood Glucose "trigger". This is Marty Kendall's "Data Driven Fasting" where we use the body's fuel gage (blood sugar) to determine the length of our daily intermittent fasting. Roughly speaking, I'm looking to hit 86, I wake up in the mid 90's, and I'll hit trigger around Noon.

3. Finish each day at, or under, 2,000 calories. Easy metric, just have to track food. Sometimes (especially when 'out'), I'll just take a quick meal-photo, then log it later using the photo as a reminder / reference.

4. Protein at or exceeding 180g per day. This, and the next measure get into "food quality", but THIS one is simple - stay "protein forward!"

5. P:E = 1:1
This one gets complicated. Requires serious food tracking & planning. "P" is Protein in grams. "E" is "Energy", which is simply the added combination of Fat & Carbs. 1:1 is the ration I need to hit - and it's damn hard. Staying among Paleo-ish (single ingredient) foods is key, staying protein forward is key, and "pre logging" to plan it all out is key. Putting chocolate vital proteins in my morning coffee sets the table nicely. From there, just think "Paleo & Low Carb", and I can get there. High Carb / Low Fat gets me all wongly.

Wongly - Bad! ;-)

6. Rucking. Easy Y/N answer, just takes a serious block of time. Might try a 5:45 wakeup to hit it from 6am to 7am. Requires a 10pm bedtime, which may not be realistic.

7. Weights. Easy Y/N answer, just takes a Pool Workout, or equivalent KB type workout.

8. Sleep = 7 hours or better. I'd like to get REM better than 2 hours, and DEEP better than 1 hour - but 7 hours asleep on a regular basis would be HUGE!

Chapter One

Chapter One

This Ravenswood neighborhood was beautiful.  Old brick buildings, with tall oaks lining the streets. I hadn't been sure what to expect, but it was lovely.  It was a perfect Summer day in Chicago, 72 degrees, and not a cloud in the sky.  I was driving my rusty, crappy old convertible, happy for the rare opportunity to enjoy the weather and have some time behind the wheel.

I was here to meet a fellow car & watch nerd, and he'd given me directions to his office parking garage, where I'd be able to park my old Fiat next to his old Land Rover, where we would debate the pains & foibles of trying to maintain two wildly different kinds of notoriously unreliable cars.  After comparing engine bay views and animated discussions of Marelli VS Lucas wiring, we went upstairs to his office & workspace.  As an independent watchmaker who I'd become friends with, I'd brought a number of watches to show and talk about on his podcast, which frankly, I wasn't too sure about.  I don't own any high-end "legit" watches, but I had a few that I'd been gifted or inherited over the years.  They might not be worth anything to anyone else, but nevertheless, they were priceless to me. 

His office was a typical Chicago loft – high ceilings with large wood beams, brick walls, a soft old Persian rug covered the wide-plank floor.  Slightly battered Eams lounge chairs flanked a bar cart with an old silver-faced stereo, and a loft area above the large, open steel-framed casement windows held his watchmaking space. A slight breeze and birdsong permeated the light, airy space, and it immediately felt like home.

After setting up the camera & microphones, he poured us a couple of drinks and I un-rolled the leather sheath.  Each watch had a story, and it seemed like most of my major life events were tied to one or another.  I'd arranged them chronologically, and he pointed at the first one, asking "what the heck is THAT thing?" It was a large, very worn watch, sitting next to a diminutive Heuer chronograph that bore the Abercrombie logo on it's face.  We both chuckled, and I took a sip of my drink before telling him about my grandfather Clarence and his two watches.  The Bourbon warmed my throat, and briefly I considered it a good omen.

My grandfather Clarence had grown up on a Tennessee dirt farm during the depression, believing his only way out was through education.  His mother had been a school teacher before the burdens of multiple children had brought her home full-time.  The other children, while diligent about chores around the farm, none of them showed the spark that young Clarence did, and she fanned that flame.  Too far to walk, the county library would send books via the local postal service, and each week Clarence traded old for new, as the postman cursed his heavy load.  Once he was in High School, Clarence earned straight A's, and the guidance counselor wrote him a glowing letter of recommendation, with little doubt in his mind it'd go nowhere, just like every other dirty white-trash  kid that had been through his school.

Timing and luck were on Clarence's side though.  President Roosevelt's depression-era Works Progress Administration had recently spawned the Tennessee Valley Authority with the newly minted awesome task of bringing electricity to every corner of the state.  To do this, they were granting scholarships to rural farm kids that showed promise, allowing Clarence to matriculate in far away Knoxville in 1937.  Clarence would graduate with his degree in civil engineering, just a few months before WWII started.  The US Army was desperate for engineers, and Clarence became a 2nt Lt.  Just before shipping out, his mother gave him the watch her father had carried through The Great War, in France.  Considered overly large and unfashionable for the time, it had laid unworn in a drawer for many years, but once Clarence wound & set it, he was pleased to find the old Elgin kept good time.  Originally the pocket-watch for a conductor on the Tennessee Central Line, an enterprising jeweler had welded loops on either side, allowing it to be worn on the wrist as many young Army officers had learned in the trenches of France.  Clarence considered it a lucky family talisman that had gotten his father home safely, and so he wore it all through Africa, and then Italy, as he and his section used their engineering skills to create bombing maps from grainy reconnaissance pictures for the 8^th Army Air Force, and indeed, the watch came safely home with him.

He'd always admired the sleek new chronographs worn by the bomber pilots, imagining that they made his trench watch look clunky and old-fashioned, no matter how well it kept time.  When he came home and began his career with the TVA, evaluating areas for potential hydro-electric projects, he put the watch in a drawer as his father had done, and got himself a handsome chronograph from the era's best outdoor outfitters, Abercrombie & Fitch.  His new job saw him walking off into the woods for weeks at a time as he'd camp & live off the land while surveying valleys.  He needed quality boots and outdoor gear, and he'd seen the watch while shopping at the new downtown Abercrombie in Memphis.

Clarence gave me his father's trench watch when I got orders deploying me to the middle east.  A short decade later, I inherited his Heuer chronograph with a note that he'd been incredibly proud of me, saying I should keep these watches together for the next generation, so they could come home as safely as we'd done.

 

Prologue

I hate flying into DC. 

The chaos always starts at whatever airport you're departing from – and it doesn't matter WHERE that is, because the people going to DC are invariably the same.  Forget about the summer tourists, I'm talking about "The DC People".  The suit-wearing, matching designer luggage & briefcase,  and the overall 'uptight & conservative' look I can spot from 3 gates away.  The ubiquitous Burberry trench coat & speakerphone conversations always cause my shoulders to ratchet up a few degrees.  Between the monied political types & well paid private business types, the over-privileged attitue and commensurate seat assignments invariably means I get a damn middle seat.

However, this flight I get the rare treat of a port-side window seat.  A consistently bumpy flight has ensured the GAO accountant next to me has spilled at least one gin & tonic on me, but as the plane follows the Potomac on it's decent, I get the nice view straight down at the Pentagon, watching the Patriot missile battery track us as we make the big right turn to line-up on our final approach into Reagan National.

Waiting at the luggage carousel I can hear at least three separate speakerphone conversations as the lawyers & accountants confirm their car service pick-ups.  Immune to the use of headphones or (god forbid) airpods, they mimic favorite reality TV stars as they hold their phones in front of gaping mouths, speakerphones loud enough to get past my tinnitus with surprising clarity.

My father's battered old Land's End bag finally makes it's way around the carousel, it's old thread-bare monogram beginning to show signs of outright fraying.  Refusing to upgrade to a newer style of roller-bag, I'm convinced that being able to carry my bag like a grown-up is somehow superior to the matched-luggage of the consultants.

Predictably, the rental car counter is packed.  It's Spring in DC, and apparently it's pouring rain, making the marble floors slick & squeaky, and I'm reluctant to set my bag down in the puddles.  The little voice in my head mentions it'd not be a big deal if I had a new roller-bag, but that voice rarely has anything nice to say.

In the car, mildly soaked, I struggle to find to find light switches and HVAC controls, but finally I have the defrost on, the windows begin to clear, and somehow I even find WHFS on the radio.  Confident that I remember the way with 100% clarity, I plot a stop at my old favorite Walgreens for Excedrin. The DC Spring pollen has already lit my head on fire, and my CostCo sized Excedrin was forgotten in my rush to leave on short notice.  Cussing a blue-streak a few minutes later, I blame the dark and rain for missing my exit, but the profanity does little to reduce the cranial pounding.  I know I've been awake too long, and the late-day airline coffee is pulsing a staccato rhythm behind my sinuses.

At the Walgreen's in my old Shirlington neighborhood I sit in the car for a few minutes, waiting to see if the rain will let up, enjoying the end of The The's "This is the Day".  Once the DJ starts talking, I decide to make a run for it, slipping & nearly killing myself on the wet marble entrance floor.  A slow-moving, clearly disinterested employee is mopping the floor and he admonishes me to slow down.  Muttering to myself about less-slippery ice rinks I've been on, I look for the 'pain relief' signs, invariably in the back of the store behind the aisles of high-margin seasonal junk and candy.

Making my way to the check-out counter, a little kid runs right into my right thigh, and bounces down onto the floor, looking at me wide-eyed.  She's a cute little tow-head, and I try to smile behind my headache and hold my hand out to help her up.  Her little fingers grasp my index finger with surprising strength, and I hear her whispering something to herself.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"You're the man."

"What man?" I ask, confused.

"In Mommy's picture."

Realizing I have no idea, or any desire to continue this conversation, I turn towards the check-out counter, just as a harried looking woman rushes around the end of an aisle, clearly looking for this confused little girl.

Just as I begin to recognize the woman's coat & the familiar fall of blonde hair across her shoulder, the little girl points at me excitedly, saying, "Mommy, it's the man from your picture!"

The woman looks at me, and I feel the world slide from under my feet.  

Gear, not Stuff

The last few years has seen me evolving my fitness routines … "significantly", to say the least.  I have settled on a few routines, and as I've gotten past the "novice" stage, my knowledge & desire for better gear has evolved quickly (and of course, expensively!).

Mainly, my workouts now consist of: 

1. Seasonally (warm), The Pool where I do my deep-end jump-squats.  I use my 35lb Thor's Hammer kettle bell from Tribe WOD

2. Seasonally (cold), weekly Crossfit visits, where I use my Battle Bottle 64oz "supertanker" and my Polar HR monitor

3. Rucking (Home), GoRuck Plate Carrier with 45lb plate

4. Rucking (Office), GoRuck Navy GR-1 XPAC with a 30lb "long" plate

5. Extras - Brute Force sandbag, currently loaded with 20lbs of sand, and an American Ruck 30lb "paincake" (hybrid ruck-plate / kettle-bell)

Each piece of gear here went through a few rounds of iteration before I landed on the items that simply "worked" for me.  Sometimes due to increasing ability (pool workouts started with a much smaller KB), sometimes due to a lack of knowledge (didn't understand the different Ruck Plate sizes, so I had to re-order a "long" RPC and the big-bitch 45lb plate from Go Ruck).  When I ordered the PainCake, I is-read the description, thinking it was a 20lb plate.  I let my 20lb plate move on - then this 30lb plate arrived - it's 20 KILOGRAMS.  The Battle Bottle is a bit excessive - but I wanted a bottle w/ a sleeve that could hold my phone, as i run my Polar HR monitor, and track my progress.  Mostly though, figuring out the GR-1 XPAC was "The One" was a royal BITCH.  I went through four other packs, and chased a number of "samurai" packs before finding this one.  I was leery of looking too "tactical", and the 5.11 packs were covered in Molle loops and had 1,000 zipper & velcro pockets, and generally were very nicely made & affordable - but just not "me". The GoRuck "Rucker 4.0" was a beast and I LOVED the orange interior, but it was too small to function as a hybrid office pack, and the lack of a front pocket pissed me off.  The XPAC version of the GR-1 has zero exterior Molle loops, no big "GO RUCK" logo, and in the Navy color w/ tan interior it "looks" very civilized.  the lighter interior color helps when digging out gear, and this bag has a few pockets - not TOO DAMN MANY like the 5.11 - just the right configuration.  the front pocket is a bit tight to pull out my BOSE headphones case, and I wish the straps had a loop or two for a sternum strap - but if i really want to load up, I'll just use the RPC.

So, I may add another interior sandbag to the Brute, I may transition to a smaller Battle Bottle, and I need to trade my 30lb long plate for a 20 … but really … what I have here is a very solid setup, and I could't be more pleased!

New Year / New You

 

For 2023 I'm going to be tracking five key metrics to my Health & Fitness:

1.  Sleep:  Foundational to EVERYTHING.  My Öura ring tracks it wonderfully, and i have a few goals for improvement.  Before the end of the year, I was trying Natural Calm & Melatonin gummies, which seemed to help with sleep latency (the time to fall asleep).  I am going to be setting more consistent bed times / awake times, which along with morning walks should help "set" & regulate my brain's circadian rhythm.  A new sleep mask & earplugs should help reduce the number of times I wake up, and my overall goal is to increase my Deep Sleep, and the over/under on time in bed / time asleep.  A few simple "guidelines" will remain in place, including minimizing screen time / eating / exercise within two hours of bedtime.  No coffee after 12pm, iced tea in the afternoon, and only water after 5pm.  More water = more better.  I love the metrics on this, and it'll be fun to monitor and tweak as we go.

2. Blood Sugar:  The body's fuel gauge doesn't lie!  I really want to lean-in on Marty Kendall's teachings, including the Macro & Micro Masterclasses to help manage & minimize cravings.  REALLY interesting work draws som very tight correlation between waking Blood Sugar and weight numbers, and I want to drill this shit down HARD. 

3.  PE Ratio:  The 1:1 protein to energy ration is SUPER powerful, and i want to incorporate this with a renewed focus on whole, single-ingredient foods.  Not necessarily "paleo" or low-carb, or anything … just "real food", in the proper ratio, with roughly 190g pf protein and an 1800 calorie cap each day.  This should drive satiety, AND muscle growth.

4.  Activity:  I'm loving the Rucking, missing my pool workouts, but looking to pick up a few Crossfit times a month.  I'd "like" to find another home workout or calesthenic type thing that govves with me, but I'm hitting a motivation-wall.  Need to just get over it.  I want to continue the Never Skipping Monday / hard Things on Friday routine, and the 10,000 steps a day needs to become base-level table-stakes.  Going early or even first thing seems to work best, as the days always get crazy & it becomes tough to work it into smaller & smaller schedule holes.

5.  Weight:  If the rest of this works, the weight should continue to take care of itself.  Watching it, and then tweaking things as needed to continue is kinda what I do, and while it took me a LONG time to get to this point, it feels GREAT to have figured out my matrix of success.  

Goal:  Meeting the old Marine Corps height / weight standards (190lbs for me), with the minimum PFT of 3 pull-ups, 80 sit-ups, and a 3 mile run under 30 minutes