Good for you Cal.
I am losing some weight since a month . I am 65 years old.
So far so good.
Good health and happiness go hand in hand.
Raid,
I avoid the gym in my building because I deem it not so safe.
Covid-15 is the reported 15 pounds of weight gain that many experienced during lockdowns.
For me I figured out that I had to shorten my feeding envelope from 10-12 hours to 8-9 hours. No real suffering going on here and no real changes to my diet. I still eat a hearty dinner.
Some would call this dieting "intermittent fasting" but I suffer no hunger. For me it was a "Minus Covid-15." It was a simple adjustment. Walking and cycling are gentle exercises. Here in Madhattan it was not uncommon for Maggie or me to walk 10-12 miles on a Saturday, and then again on a Sunday. I walk 2.3 miles to work and home each way.
This baby-Victorian is about 4 blocks away from a 1500 acre preserve that has some of the best mountain biking single track in the northeast. I imagine my level of fitness and strength to revert back to when I was decades younger.
Back in my 30's I raced bikes and was an endurance athlete.
A funny story happened when I was 49 when at work this co-worker of mine was an elite marathon runner who had over-trained and gotten too ill to run. It was at a Friday meeting at work when he offered me his bib so I could run the New York Marathon in his place that Sunday.
Pretty much I had a day to get ready and one friend said that I ran the marathon "off the couch" because I had done no real training. I was somewhat fit from pushups and jogging 7 miles home after work say 3-4 times a week.
I ended up doing the marathon in just under 5 hours. The next day I couldn't walk. LOL. My position at the start was within sight of the Front Runners, and pretty much I had to avoid getting trampled for the first few miles, but eventually I recognized and passed those that had passed me earlier. LOL.
I could be one of those guys that get reported exceeding 115 years old. I have the lanky body and those Asian genes. Besides that I'm kinda stubborn.
Being stubborn I think many learn from immigrant parents. In this case it is a virtue, but then again I have a reputation and my friends say I'm mighty annoying. LOL.
"Maggie" my gal was annoyed with me. She was worried that I would cross the finish and stroke out like in the legend. Earlier that week in the headlines it was reported that some Olympic Marathon runner was trying to qualify for the Olympic Team and dropped in Central Park at mile 7.
"Don't tell Maggie."
She made me promise not to race, and I assured her that I just wanted to finish the 27.2 miles, but on the Staten Island Ferry I ran into this marathoner who offered me some hash brownies to prep for the race.
He let me know that he did this every year, but he also revealed that if I finished under 5 hours then my name would be published in the New York Times in some Marathon suppliment. So basically I had lied to Maggie, or simply I changed my mind.
There is a RFID issued that you tie to your running shoes for tracking and timing, so Maggie could track me on her Blackberry. In Williamsburg, just before the halfway point I ran out of a pack, kissed Maggie on the cheek, and said, "I got to go," before she could yell at me.
My half marathon time was 2 hours 10 minutes at Greenpoint the halfway point, but I made a painful mistake and got on a line to use a Porta-Potty to pee. I figured this would be my last chance before crossing the Queensboro Bridge into Madhattan.
I wasted 7 minutes, and stopping I rudely discovered was a mistake. I had a spike of lactic acid and the second half marathon was all about threshold of pain and suffering.
Somewhere in the north end of Central Park was a sign that said only 4 miles to the finish, but somehow I saw that sign 4 times. At that point I must of been hallucinating. I cursed to myself saying that Central Park is not that big "GXX-dam-it." I checked my Rolex and had to speed up to beat the 5 hour clock.
Anyways crossing the finish was one of those peak events in ones life. Not so different that having sex for the first time.
So my friend who have me his bib is Southeast Asian, and he has one of those Indian names that is long and un-pronounce-able. I ended up buying a plaque with a metalized photo of me running in Central Park with the my time, but instead of my name there is my friend's name that has something like 26-27 letters in it.
Evidently my training as a cyclist helped me. Inside I have this goal of possibly living past 115 years. I have all the right stuff if I don'y get stabbed or shot.
Cal