H.I.I.T. me, baby...

Hot Water Sandwich is the place where I sometimes write autobiographically, and I'm approaching an anniversary that's fairly significant in my life. I also wanted to write a little bit about an article I read recently. So I decided to combine both objectives into one post.

Speaking of significant dates, 08-26-2004 was one of mine -- the day I was officially diagnosed with Type II diabetes. On that day, I had my annual physical exam and was rolling along at 256 pounds. My HMO doctor told me losing 50 of the 256 would be beneficial to my blood sugar levels, so I said WTF and decided to give it a shot.

It took 102 days of eating right and exercising, but on 12-17-04 I weighed less than 200 pounds for the first time in many, many years. I was amazed by how easy losing weight had been, relatively speaking, once I was accustomed to the idea, so I decided to try losing a little more. By early February 2005 I was down to 180 lb, and feeling healthier than at any time since I finished college. By May I weighed 165 and had replaced virtually every article of clothing I owned (other than shoes and socks), some twice. Over the next year, my weight was fairly stable, fluctuating between 160-165 pounds.

For reasons too complicated to rehash here, the memorable date I mentioned in the first paragraph arrived not quite three years ago, on Monday, May 22nd, 2006. That afternoon, I was admitted to the hospital to have my brain overhauled and steam-cleaned. I still have interesting ridges where they taped my skull back together, and big numb patches in my scalp.

I was wheeled out of the rehab center on 06-23-2006, the 33rd day after admission, weighing a slim 143 pounds. The month I spent in the institution broke my smoking habit, but I'd picked up the habit of eating doughnuts, candy, and ice cream and lying on my ass for long periods of time. By September I had gained back the 20 pounds I lost in the hospital and an extra ten to spare, and it was mid-October before I could exercise at anything near the level I had easily managed in May.

The bottom line is I'm carrying around 12 pounds more than I need, and I know exactly where they are: right at my beltline. My overall health is better without tobacco, but I still miss smoking and I know it'd be easier to shave the 12 pounds if I were still puffing on my pipe.

All of this leads up to some reading I've been doing about high intensity interval training, also referred to as H.I.I.T. (or HIT). I've decided to give it a try. The last time I ran sprints was a few days before Christmas last December, and that evening I ended up leaving DNA evidence on a sidewalk. But as they say, nothing ventured, nothing gained. If the results are what I'm hoping for, I'll be back here with an endorsement. The first two days, yesterday and today, went well, so I'm optimistic.