Insanity Day 0: My Last Day of Sanity

Day 0 of Insanity.

Tomorrow is the first day of the rest of my life. I suppose that's always true, but in my case I'm referring to a decision I've made. Put simply, I'm tired of being a middle-aged Oompa Loompa who can work up a sweat just watching someone exercise on TV, and it's time to do something about it.

This decision feels different than previous decisions to get in shape, I think primarily because I'm much more aware of my age, and the pace at which birthdays are flying by, than in the past. I suppose that's another thing that's true for everyone as they get older.

I've done some running in previous years, but my knees feel like there isn't much cartilage in there anymore. Could be arthritis. I don't really know. I am committed to getting them checked out by a doctor, but not until "after". For now, I just hope they can make it through what I'm about to begin. I've heard the program is really tough on knees, and to be honest that's really my only fear: That I won't be able to finish. My wife and Mom are probably more worried about me dropping dead of a heart attack, but I know my body well enough to know when I've pushed myself too far. As the infomercial that sold me on this program said, it's not about doing a certain number of reps. It's simply about giving 100%. My 100% will be different on day 1 than it will on day 60. I get that. Besides, I know what it feels like to be truly exhausted. It happened one day on a river...

I was in West Virginia in the fall of 2011, celebrating my buddy Colson's 40th birthday with a bunch of his and our friends. I think he was just trying to recapture an experience he and his now-wife had back in their college days. Trouble is, it was my first time whitewater rafting, so why not start with one of the biggest, baddest, most dangerous Class V+ rivers in America, the Upper Gauley. Seriously, just look it up on YouTube. There are five Class V rapids on the Upper Gauley, one of them called the Iron Ring (great name). The last thing I remember before we were ejected from our raft of 7 people (including a professional guide) was the guide screaming at the top of her lungs that 'We are f**king doomed!' Then I saw the rapid, basically a 15 foot waterfall flowing at 3,200 cubic feet per second (thanks to this being a "dam release weekend"). We dropped down into a hole sideways and all I could see was white water in every direction. Then I saw the sky. Then the raft flipped over, upside down, and I was in the water, wearing a life vest that barely has enough buoyancy to keep you afloat. Within seconds, I was completely disoriented, tumbling around underwater in the rapids with no way of knowing which way is up or down. And how do you hold your breath when your adrenaline is at full blast, and you're scared to death of an undercut rock that could suck you under or a foot entrapment to grab your ankle and drown you? (Yes they warn you of all this beforehand, but you're with "the guys" so you gotta do it, right?) I finally popped up and saw no one. No raft. No other people. So I started swimming to the side of the river. I wasn't sure which side to swim towards, however. Unlike the previous Class V rapids we had already been through, where the guide would say, "Now if you fall here, swim left as if your life depended on it" (yes, that's actually what she said), she had declared the Iron Ring a "no swim zone". Just don't fall out. It was that dangerous. Uhh...okay! So I decided to swim left as hard as I could. Keep in mind I'm in a full wet suit with another insulating vest on top of it, so it felt like swimming with all your clothes on, including shoes. I couldn't generate any thrust at all. If I had been in a swimming pool, a lifeguard would've seen me and jumped in to save me. Michael Phelps, I am not. Anyway, I saw more rapids approaching and quickly realized I wasn't going to make it to shore in time. So I braced for impact and tried to float feet-first through the churning water, barely keeping my mouth above the water for the occasional panicked breath. I reached the next break in the action and resumed my swimming to the left. I was spent. I was barely making any progress but I continued to push myself as hard as I ever had, because my life did depend on it. I was drowning. I was swallowing water and barely had enough energy to lift my head up to breathe. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of swimming I reached a flat, slippery rock along the shore. I was able to grab the far edge with both hands and slowly pull myself, more like drag myself, onto the rock. If it hadn't been slippery I don't think I could've done it. So I laid there, face down on the rock, panting like an exhausted dog after a long game of fetch at the beach. After a couple minutes I rolled myself over and tried to sit up. I couldn't. How was that possible? I literally couldn't sit up. All of my muscles felt like they were fully depleted of all their energy. I couldn't even speak. All I could hear was my own breathing, and my heart beating through my wet suit. Thump, thump, thump. Breathe. Just breathe. Long story short, after about 10 minutes, another raft paddled upstream through an eddy and picked me up. It was a struggle but I got on board. Others in my raft were picked up further downstream and luckily everyone made it through the experience physically unscathed. Those in our raft will certainly never forget it.

I soon came to the realization that I had truly pushed myself to the limit that day.. I don't mean from a fear perspective. Believe me, my Class V days are gone for good. No, the real lesson I learned that day was how far I could push myself physically, and make it through. It was much further than ever before...even further than that Navy SEAL training I did through work on Coronado Island in San Diego the year before. So I learned I can do more than I thought I could, and the biggest obstacle wasn't my muscles. It was my head.

So that brings me back to today. A willingness, and even desire to push myself as hard as I can. This is what I'm thinking about the day before beginning this journey. I'm starting the BeachBody workout program called Insanity tomorrow. One hour a day. Six days a week. It's the Upper Gauley of workouts, except without the undercut rocks and foot entrapments. Once again, the biggest obstacle is the one between my ears. I need to keep my head in the game, and take this day by day.

I know I needed some constant motivation, so I decided to write this blog. I've never done one before, and don't know if anyone will even read this. But knowing that I have to "answer to the blog" ever day will help push me to push me, if you know what I mean.

Tomorrow I take the Fitness Test. I will take some "before" pictures, which I'll post along with my "after" pictures at the end of the program, about 63 days from today. Wish me luck.

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For the curious, here I am from that day on the river. I'm the one in the blue helmet. Taken at Pillow Rock (the second of five Class V rapids) in the fall of 2011 on the Upper Gauley.