Recovery, Accountability and Affirmation, baby

OK look. I'm not going to say I was on a bender. I think a bender requires a certain negative, down-in-the-dumps mental state. I was decidedly the opposite of that the entire time.

This was entirely a celebration of my birthday and of seeing friends and family I haven't seen in a long time and of just generally being young and alive.

But the nine-day period from Friday, June 17 through Saturday, June 25 -- whew. I do believe that's as close as I'll ever come to a bender.

Two ridiculous nights in Savannah (if you missed it, read all about it in my three-part Savannah story: Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.). A night with two old college friends, Tanner and Clark. My birthday with my best friend Jon and his girlfriend, which most decidedly earned a place on the Swanson Pyramid of Greatness. And then a ridiculous Saturday night, partying with one of my newest friends for her birthday (and mine, as she excitedly told almost everyone, leading to many shots [Thanks, Katie haha]). Five nights out of nine were spent drunk. Before last night, I hadn't had more than five or six hours of sleep per night in two weeks. I mean. I didn't even do that in college. It couldn't have been more awesome though.

A quick word about Saturday night before I move on to my fitness update.

Mike is a a friend of Katie's who I met for the first time Saturday night, and he was absolutely raving about this shot combo he loves. You take a shot of Jameson whiskey and chase it with a shot of pickle juice. Yes, you read that right. And yes, it sounds like a nightmare.

It wasn't long before he was tapping Katie and me on the shoulder and holding Jameson and pickle juice. Well then. Here we go. I have to say, it was not nearly as terrible as I thought it was going to be. The pickle juice immediately canceled out the burn of the Jameson. But then I just tasted pickles for a while afterward. Other drinks cleared that up eventually, but you know. Pickles.

Without question, the best part of the night was the dancing. Ask my cousins or my brother. I was just itching to dance the entire weekend in Savannah, but there was never really an outlet for it. The dueling piano bar was promising, but it just didn't work for me.

Saturday night, however. Man. Let's go. They played a solid mix of hip hop and 80s and terrible pop songs, and it just happened.

I know three things:

1. I almost assuredly make a fool out of myself when I'm dancing.
2. When I get a little drunk, I cannot stop myself from dancing.
3. I care not at all that I look a little foolish.

I have to say, it was awesome. They absolutely had me at "Take Me Home Tonight."

The night ended with me falling asleep on the Metro, and eating a double Quarterpounder and fries from McDonald's at 4 a.m. So, like I said, that night closed out a nine-day span that's as close as I'll ever get to a bender.

But it was a fun, happy bender. So there's that.

Now, after spending three days in Savannah and six days in Charlotte, I was expecting my little weight-loss odyssey to hit a speed bump. I ran exactly once -- the day before I went to Savannah. And I most definitely did NOT really keep track of what I was eating. And then, oh yeah, I drank, like, a million drinks.

After Saturday night, I knew nothing of note was going to happen on Sunday. I ran a few errands that needed running after being out of town for 10 days. I walked to Jersey Mike's (great success!), and then I collapsed on the couch for the remainder of the day, only leaving to take the dog on the second of our twice-daily two-mile walks. It was magnificent after so many days in a row of GO GO GO GO GO.

Today was going to be the day I got back to it. I walked the dog, then I went to the gym to run. I was ready for the run to be rough. Like, really rough. Yes, I run on a treadmill. But that's because it's easy on my knees, and I don't like running in the heat. So whatever. I usually just get on and run 30 or 35 minutes on speed 6, which is a 10-minute mile pace. Nothing crazy.

As soon as I started, I could feel it was going to be a good one. I always start off the run with "The Distance" by Cake. I felt completely energized. I was cruising. I pumped it up to 6.5 around the two-mile mark. At 2.5 miles, "Knights of Cydonia" came on. If there weren't other people in the gym, I would have probably yelled in excitement. It has a perfect, driving drum beat. Just exactly what you want to hear when you're running. So great.

I pushed it up to speed 7.5 for the last half mile because of the song, and I was rolling, man. I made it to 31 minutes straight, and then walked a four-minute cool down. I felt so, so great. I was expecting a day where I ran a mile and a half, walked for a few minutes and then ran another mile and a half or so. This blew me away.

I hadn't weighed myself yet because I was afraid to, honestly. If you were keeping track, before I went to Charlotte and Savannah, I'd made it down to 206 from 227. 21 pounds! I fully expected to see a 210 or a 212 or 214 on the scale today.

I got home from my run, stretched and got ready for my shower. I got on the scale. 205.5!!

What the shit!

I'm fully aware I lost a good bit of water weight running on a treadmill for 35 minutes, but that number still means I did not gain any significant weight over the past 10 days. Color me floored.

So that's where I'm at now. It's almost July, so I'll take some more progress pictures with no intention of posting them publicly just yet. My short-term goal is to be less than 200 pounds by the end of July, but I'm just going to keep on working, and we'll see what happens.

For now, I'm happily standing at 205.5, which has contributed greatly to me being happier than I've been in years. I just need to make sure I get out there soon to dance again. And! Softball game soon! Less than two weeks!

Nick, if you were here, I would pound my chest, yell "MAN LET'S GO" and then chest bump you. Goddamn I feel good.

Let us go.

-BG