Muffin-Top

When it comes down to it, I really am just a fat kid stuck temporarily in a skinny man's body. My first school uniform was "husky" sized as I'd spent several weeks with my grandparents before 6th grade. I had not yet discovered exercise. So it's pretty natural that given 2.5 hours of daylight, 768 ft. of snow this year, an average temperature of -29, and diminished exercise that I'd put on some, let's call it, "necessary insulation" over the winter.

My training partners and friends here really are the best, they pull no punches. My co-workers recently had to tune my suspension on my mountain bike to what they called "fat Ryan" setting. Several weeks ago, I also saw something I've never seen before 161 lbs. on the scale. Granted I was dressed and it was in the afternoon but even so, that would put me eeking in at just under 160. The real blow came yesterday though.

My friend Jen, a fellow winter warrior, and I were doing a swim set in which we exited the pool on the deep end every 25 to dive back in. She offered to switch sides of the lane with me. "Why?" I said. "So you don't scrape your muffin-top on the diving board," she glibly said. As I peered towards the other end of the pool, I saw the diving board encroaching on my much needed deck space. Out of sheer stubbornness I refused, and, yes, endured some scrapes on my muffin-top. Desperate times...

I have appointed Jen Luebke, Professional Triathlete, as my Under-Coach charged with muffin-top dissipation. She will use state of the art techniques, cutting edge science, and high maths to track my progress, including walking jigowatts, running wattage, swimming miles-per-hour, perceived rate of exertion, and frequent humiliation through the poking of my back fats.

Here's to a fitter, faster and more insecure me!

In all seriousness though, a special thanks to Elliot, Jeff and Jen for helping me to weather a tough and long Montana winter!