Something Snapped after Ocean Beach

Family, friends, readers of this blog, people I pass on the street, anyone who has lived or worked below me, even those on the international space station who might happen to look down as San Francisco passes by know that I'm out of shape.  It's rather hard to miss.  Pudgy since I was a kid (I was told the baby fat would melt away, but it, like me, was stubborn), I've almost always been on the larger side.  To this day I cannot stand the word "husky."  Why anyone would use that term to designate a kid's clothing size is beyond me.  The only time I was actually, properly fit was in my late teens and early 20s.  Around Christmas of my senior year, I decided that I'd lose a bunch of weight.  And I did.  Almost 50 pounds in 6 months. 

My diet was one highly regarded by teens: work out like mad and don't eat.  I ran 3+ miles every day, even though I hate running, and limited my caloric intake to 3 turkey sandwiches a day, which worked out to about 800 calories.  Total grams of fat was limited to 8 or less.  I still call this my "manic diet."  I managed to keep most of the weight off until I met my future wife.  While she is still thin, fit, and gorgeous, my weight crept up slowly each year, with a brief drop when I lived in Japan, to what, I must admit, is a rather unhealthy poundage.  So, a couple weeks ago, I snapped - just like I had done in high school - and set out to do something about it. 

I bought a pair of running shoes and set up a workout track list on my wife's old iPod Shuffle.  For the past week I'd been walking at least 3 miles a day, sometimes with Mimi, sometimes on my own.  The approach hasn't been nearly as drastic compared to what I did in high school, but I'm feeling better with each walk.

San Francisco is a uniquely beautiful city and my daily walks have given me new opportunities to explore it.  This past Friday, while Mimi was in daycare, I drove over to Ocean Beach for my walk.  I strolled down the bicycle path along The Great Highway for about 1.5 miles and then crossed the road to walk back along beach.  Barefoot.  What a great way to get fit.  While out I discovered the lower reaches of Ocean Beach, which are far more beautiful, and less crowded, than the sandy stretches near the Cliff House and Beach Chalet.  Mimi would love them!  So, this past Monday, Sumie, Mimi, and I snuck out after work and hit the beach!

Mimi, like her Papa, loves the water.  It's hard to keep her out.  But, thankfully, she also loves digging in the sand.  Here she is with her Mama, bucket in one hand, shovel in the other.  

The only issue with Mimi's love of digging in the sand is where she does it.  Most kids one sees at the beach leave the confines of the beach blanket or picnic mat to dig their tunnels, fill their buckets, and build their castles.  Mimi, however, refuses to leave her comfy fabric perch.  Instead, she brings the sand to the blanket which, invariably, becomes covered in grime in a matter of minutes.  

Beach towel sufficiently filthified, Mimi and I walked down to the water.  Just like with pools, Mimi has no fear when it comes to the ocean.  Freezing cold Pacific waters?  Waves?  Bring 'em on!  

It really was all I could do to keep Mimi from going fully under.  She'd literally run for the largest waves so, once they broke, she could plop herself down in the deep (for her at least), frigid waters. 

Mimi and I eventually made it back to the blanket, the car, and finally back home where we were rewarded with a nice warm shower to wash off all that pesky sand.  I didn't get much exercise, but the three of us had a great time out on the beach.  And I knew I'd be going back to walk there sometime soon.  Well, at least that's what I thought...

Yesterday, realizing the workout limitations one pair of shorts presents, I walked over with Mimi to Ross.  There I bought a great pair of exercise shorts.  On my walk later that night, this time through Golden Gate Park, I took it up a notch and started jogging.  Everything was in place: shoes, shorts, music, and determination.  10 minutes after I started I was still going, and actually feeling alright.  The bouncing, however, had dislodged my iPod from my sleeve, so I slowed to adjust it.  30 seconds after starting back up, it happened.  Snap.  Something in my lower left calf decided that enough was too much. 

I hobbled back home, rather Frankenstein-like now that I think about it, and put my leg on ice.  I tied the bag with an old baby blanket of Mimi's, which Mimi, upon seeing it, insisted on having back.  We eventually compromised with an ice pack baby blanket of her own

I don't think I ruined anything - the injury is already feeling better, though far from 100% - but something in my lower calf definitely gave way.  Though I know I should take this as a kind warning not to push myself too hard, I can't quite get over the irony.  Here I am trying to get into shape, starting my first run in years and actually enjoying it, and then, thinking it's all in fun, pop goes my tendon.   It'll heal and I'll be back out there soon, I'm sure.  Until then, I guess it's push up time!