4XLT

(For all those who have been threatening to tar and feather me for not blogging for a week, it’s been because I’ve been working – leading worship at a conference / retreat for the past week in rural southeastern Oregon. But, I’m back in Portland now, here to tell you all a story of the longest night of my life – this past Wednesday, when I walked sixteen miles for twelve hours through the night in the wilderness.)

Today’s Weigh-In: 356.8 pounds
Pounds To Go: 16.8
Days Till Goal: 30

Those of us attending the conference in Harney County had a free day Wednesday before the Portland group planned to pack up and head home on Thursday morning. Being the only person under forty-five at this particular event, I was pretty much left flying solo for the day, which is just fine by me.

Up Into the Woods

I’ve got a terrible, terrible, chronic case of wanderlust that I inherited from my grandma, so my plan was to head out and see the countryside in southeast / central Oregon. Setting out from the small town of Drewsey (west of Burns forty miles), I headed north into the Malheur National Forest south and east of the town of John Day. It was absolutely fantastic!

I was particularly awed by Strawberry Mountain. I’ve come to the decision that I’d one day like to have a cabin near it. In addition, I loved getting a chance to wade around in the cool mountain rivers in the Forest. I waded around in them, laughing like a little kid. I just couldn’t contain myself!

The Road That Wasn’t A Road At All

After leaving the forest and getting back into dry, high desert country late in the afternoon, I looked to make my way back to Drewsey. At this point, I was about seventy miles east of John Day on Highway 26 and was figuring of making a 150 mile loop through Vale to get back to the Drewsey area off of Highway 20. I passed through an almost deserted town called Ironside and saw a green and white highway sign noting that Juntrua (close to Drewsey) was 57 miles to the south. I assumed the road to be dirt or gravel maintained ranch roads, so I pulled my truck off of the pavement and headed down the rural road.

Any semblance of a maintained road quickly gave way several miles in.

The “road” became little more than a poor dirt and rock track some miles in. After fording two small creeks and working my way over the hills, I stopped my truck to take in the comical sight of the world’s most absurd traffic junction / intersection. The dirt track to Juntura continued forward, but a sign indicating a small town to the east was matched with, well, nothing. Any road was just some valley grass with a hint of truck tracks trodden down into the ground. I got out of my truck to laugh, stretch my legs, and take a photo.

The Problems Begin

It was then i noticed a distinct hissing sound coming from my front passenger side tire. Crap. I figured I might try to drive a couple more miles before the tire gave way and try and get to some level ground to change it. So, I hop back into my truck and start praying like crazy.

I make it maybe three to five miles further before the tire goes completely. By this time, I was on a larger hill / mountainside ridge facing the west. It was at about 5:45 at this point. I figured it wasn’t going to be particularly fun to change the tire in flip flops and shorts while mucking around sticky sage brush, but those were the cards I’d been dealt. Not that big of a problem, really.

What became a big, big problem was the fact I had no jack. So, even though my spare tire looked great, I wasn’t going to be able to replace it!

That’s when the “oh crap” moment hit. The road I was on is so remote that I knew the cavalry wasn’t going to be coming into the rescue. My only option at that point was to walk out, and being smack dab in the middle of Ironside and Juntura, I knew that the Beulah reservoir lake might be my closest bet, and if no one was found there or along the way, then I’d have to push all the way to Juntura, which was about thirty miles to the south along the “road.”

I found a scrap piece of paper that I wrote a “HELP ME” note to stick in my window in case anyone would drive by the truck:

HELP HELP HELP!
Tire shredded. No jack. Can’t use spare.
Am walking out south to Juntura
Name: Will Phillips – Phone: (503)XXX-XXXX
Emergency Contacts: (Names and numbers of the local Drewsey folks)
Started walking out 6:00pm Wednesday, July 16. No one knows I am here.

I took a look around my truck and though of what I should pack along. I had an empty McDonald’s cup from lunch earlier that day that I grabbed, along with some truck bed straps (in case I hurt myself and needed to use the straps as a brace). I had some gloves (came in very handy), and then I grabbed my Bible (which I ended up not reading at all, to be honest), my camera, a pen and note pad, and finally, my cell phone and car charger.

I’m Walking Out

Around 6:00pm, I headed out down the road wearing my flip flops (which, along with not having water, is what sucked the most), not sure of much anything except that it was highly unlikely anyone would be coming to my rescue. I wasn’t scared or afraid. Ultimately, it was all a mental game of just how far I was going to have to walk before I found someone. The thoughts of mountain lions and bears were a little unnerving, but I saw that there were no ledges, really, for a cougar to get a jump on me, and I knew the odds were astronomical for me to actually run into a black bear – but weirder things have definitely happened!

From time to time the first couple of hours and miles, I would test my cell phone from time to time, only to find again and again that there was no signal. My accompanying cries of “HELLO??? CAN ANYONE HEAR ME???” rang out unanswered. I have never felt so truly alone in all my life.

I never really was in fear for my life, but those random thoughts did creep in for stretches early on in the walk. I thought of what I would write in the note pad to my family when they found my body in the wilderness. Who would I even write to? I ultimately decided on my mom and pop, my sis, and then my best friend Nate. I actually was planning on writing what I wanted at my funeral!!

(For the record, I want “Alive” by P.O.D. played and want Nate to preach something good.)

I thought of what my life had come to in various ways. In my more spiritual moments, I felt like a Franciscan monk crossing over the Alps and was constantly reminded of Paul’s list of hardships in II Corinthians 11: shipwrecked three times, stoned, whipped, robbed, etc. But more frequently, I found myself wanting to throw in the towel of this crazy thing called ministry once I made it back to civilization. Get rich, get ripped, find a hot babe, live for myself alone.

Early on in the walk, I spent a lot of time mentally going back and forth between thinking that I’ll either have a rock hard, resilient spiritual faith when I get through with this experience, or I will be ripped from what little I had left at the time.

Later on, my mental state was all a matter of “Keep walking. Put one foot in front of the other. Get around this ridge and you can sit or stop for a bit. get to the lake. Water would taste really good right about now.” Entertainingly enough, I kept my mind occupied by trying to think of everything good I have ever tasted in my life. Here’s what I thought of a lot:

A&W Root Beer
Water
Milk
Cream Soda
Cherry Coke
Boulevard Wheat beer
Dr. Pepper
Fruit Juice
Black Butte Porter

Walking Through the Night

Night came, and fortunately, the moon was full and bright, so I kept walking. I wasn’t tired, but I was definitely getting sore. Eventually I rounded another ridge on the mountainous area near Castle Rocks, I caught site of the Beulah reservoir in the distance, I steeled my resolve to try and make it to some water, as I was getting to parched.

I eventually had to stop and sit. Sitting turned into leaning against the incline of the hill. Leaning turned into grabbing a large rock and setting it down to use as a pillow. I was able to catch what I figure was about fifteen – twenty minute of napping until I got too cold. So I set out shuffling down the rocky path in my flip flops. By the time I made my way to the lake, I realized with frustration that this end of the lake was fenced off by ranchers and I was unable to get to the water.

At the lake, the rocky path I was on intersected with a decent dirt road which made walking a lot easier, even though by that time I was incredibly sore. As I crossed another cattle grate, I heard a bubbling brook by the road. I stopped to happily take some big gulps of brown water. Who knew dirty, silty water could taste so good?

I eventually make my way to a place where I could access the lake for cleaner water. After some more big gulps, I lay down on the sandy-grass shore and take another nap for fifteen minute before the wind gets to me. After I force myself up, I shuffle back to the road and in shouts of joy, see a car’s lights heading my way!

I turn my cell phone on so they could see the light and I wave my hat around while I yell for them to stop.

The SUV drives by. It doesn’t even slow down.

I officially lose hope.

Breakfast Salvation

My pace slows down for the next couple of miles as I work my way down the edge of the lake towards the dam. Day breaks and I still haven’t seen anyone.

I cross around one last ridge and drop into the end of the lake. It was with such great joy and relief that I see someone at the campground! A lone Suburban and tent are near the water, and as I turn into the campground from the main road, I see someone come out of the tent.

Not wanting to spook anyone, I holler out “GOOD MORNING! CAN YOU HELP ME?” while I was still 100 yards away or so. As I get closer, I explain that I’d blown a tire and had no jack and had been walking down from the mountains since six yesterday evening. I ask the time, and am told it is getting close to six in the morning. That’s a full twelve hours of walking.

This couple, a Jim and Toni from Baker City, end up being incredibly nice and hospitable to me. They offer me water and even fix me breakfast (bacon, eggs, pancakes, coffee, and asprin – the best breakfast I’ve ever had). After eating, they were kind enough to drive me back to Drewsey where I made phone calls to everyone to let folks know I was okay, but beat up.

Now hobbling around like an old man, I feel very happy to be back amongst the land of the living. What a long, long night!

Today’s Weigh-In: 356.8 pounds
Days Till Goal: 41
Pounds To Go: 16.8 pounds

Whoo boy, what a long weekend. I’ve never been one to divulge personal details on a blog (well, except for my horrifyingly honest rants as an eighteen and nineteen year old), so don’t expect me to do it now. Let’s just suffice to say that I had a long, long, loooong weekend that wasn’t exactly the best times I’ve ever had. To spite how bad it was, I’ve just got that much more of a fire to cross my hundred pound mark in the upcoming months.

And even in spite of the comedy of errors that is flying these days, it was a great feeling to get back to Portland last night. I’m ready and raring to keep the health fight going strong (as I’m proud to say I did okay over the long weekend – not perfect, but good enough to keep the pounds down).

I’m setting the date for my next twenty pounds at the 18th of August. Back in May before I hit my laziness plateau, I wanted to cross the century mark by the first of August, but I simply don’t know if that’s feasible at this point. I’m not going to make any claims that I’ll eat 100% perfect, but I’m going to try and be smart about scheduling my cheat meals and making sure I keep my metabolism going hot like a locomotive boiler. That’s best accomplished by regularly eating my five meals throughout the day and going and taking care of my cardio (I hate cardio) on my non-lifting days.

If I keep it up, I am absolutely confident that I’ll cross into a hundred pounds plus totals in August. If I continue with my three pounds a week schedule, that puts me at the Monday, August 18. Just for the silly sake of cool numbers, if I make it ten days earlier, that will put me at a hundred pounds on 08-08-08, which is just sweet.

And, if I keep the three pounds a week metric up through the end of the year, that would hypothetically crank me into the mid 280s by New Year’s. I’m not pulling for that, even as logical as that would seem. The three pounds weekly seems to be pretty sustainable when I choose to live smartly, but the final numbers of the 280s is what seems off to me.

Of course, as I write this I see that it’s just a mental block more than some biological, nutritional, or physiological issue. And I now that even if I hit below the 300 mark, I’m going to be no thin studmuffin. I’ve had some friends complimenting me on the eighty pounds so far, but to be honest, I don’t feel any different than I did back at 440. I have no idea what’s going on there, as I haven’t really plumbed the depths of that part of the mental game.

If I end the year around the 310-300 mark, I will be thrilled. So, once I cross into the 330s, I’ll be charting the course to take me there. When I hit my goal in August, it doesn’t mean that I’m just going to take it easy to the end of the year (4.5 months for forty-ish pounds). I’m finding I am working really effectively, mentally and physiologically, to a “high intensity interval” system of sorts now. I push hard for a few weeks, then take a bit of a break (not relapsing, but moreso maintaining), then repeat.

The immediate dilemma I have to work around is a week long conference in rural southeastern Oregon I will be at starting this weekend through the next. No gym, no ellipticals, and probably not much in the way of healthy food options. The rubber meats the road here, and so I’ll need to expertly plan my food options, pack plenty of protein meal replacement bars to keep my ongoing food intake going strong. I’ll have to use all my willpower to not pig out on food, and think of how to work out with no weights. I’ll be looking around for good body weight exercises to use.

Here we go. And for the rest of you still slugging out the last couple of pounds in the Ocean’s Eleven challenge, keep it up. I am sitting back here wondering who’s going to pull this off. As for me, I’m not formally participating in the eleven pound race, simply because when we started I was at 373, and naturally the weight will drop off a lot faster from me than you guys in the mid to low 200s. Damn, I’m around 150 pounds heavier than some (most) of you guys. That sucks. But I’m working hard at catching up – I want to see you guys working hard to out-pace me, too! Keep it up!

I want that hundred pound mark!!

Today’s Weigh-In: 359.6 pounds
Days Till Goal: 3
Pounds To Go: GOAL MET!

Today marks the eighty pounds of total weight loss threshold for me. For me, that means I’ve only got a measly twenty pounds to go until I start putting up triple digits. Granted, at 340 I’ll still be a big, fat guy, but 340 is a ton (or is it a hundred pounds) better than 440. And, not to mention, once I get to 349 (much less all the way to 40), I’ll officially be closer to the 300 mark than the 400, which is a great mental boost.

As happy as I am at how I’m progressing, I must not get comfortable with where I’m at. I’ve still got so far to go to get too elated about eighty pounds when my two goals remain sixty and a hundred and ten pounds away, respectively.

A lot of us health bloggers have made some great, amazing progress in our weight loss journeys, but then have gotten happy about it and have, well, hit a wall. It’s about time for another revolution.

The July Uprising

It’s been a rough couple of months for us around the FAT Coalition. Billy started up the Ocean’s Eleven Challenge three weeks ago, but apart from that initial burst of energy, things have gone back to a pretty sluggish pace for a lot of us.

Good grief, some of us have even gone so far to either out and out go on a break or just admit they’re making poor health choices and shrug.

It’s obvious to all of us that I’m the reigning high-end heavyweight of the Coalition, even at the 80 pounds lost mark. With that admission, I’ll be the first to admit that for simple causes of biology and phisology the weight drops off of me more easily that some of you much healthier and thinner than I am.

But that doesn’t mean much to me at all. I’m interested in effort and focused determination to get a better life that those which we have all been living. What I’m concerned about is this ho-hum attitude the Coalition’s been sporting as of late. While in some regards I absolutely respect Rob’s break from the weight loss battle, on the other hand I want to smack him in the face. Of course loosing weight and getting healthy is hard. None of us would have packed on the pounds if keeping them off was a walk in the park!

I guess I’m just about at my wit’s end of reading post after post of “Well, I drank a lot and then ate poorly this weekend. Oh well, hopefully I can keep my weight down in spite of it.” Don’t get me wrong here, I am a big fan of using cheat meals, but make them mean something for you. Give yourself a regular cheat meal – especially when you hit major goals in addition to one or two throughout your week.

Talk as much as any of us want about eating 100% clean, none of us have the willpower to sustain that for an extended period of time. Granted, I’m wanting to make a twenty pound weight loss burst to hit 100 pounds of weight lost so far, but when I get back to my “normal” weight loss routine after that, I definitely enjoy my cheat meals. Probably because I can look forward to them and know they are coming when I start to crave Chinese or Indian buffets.

But don’t go halfway and talk about wanting to get healthy and in shape and then not back up your words with getting drunk and eating piss poorly and not going to the gym for lifting and cardio. Get in or out of the boat. And, damnit, you better be getting in and achieving the better body and better future you want.

As for me, I spent the whole month of May straddling in and out of the boat and it is repulsive to me. What I found out about my time there in the weight loss doldrums is that I always have to keep my battle in the front of my mind. When I forget about my goals, then the numbers don’t change. If I think, “eh, I’ll be okay at Burger King,” then it’s so much easier for me to keep thinking that way and then, what do you know? I spend all of May and the better part of June between 370 and 375.

But when I force myself to stay angry and dissatisfied at how my life is and how I look like, then I make the numerous small decisions every day to stay healthy. And really, that mental battle is all this whole seemingly complex machine reduces to. Eat a small amount often throughout the day. Get active. Stay angry. And screw anybody who wants to shove French fries or fried chicken or pizza down my throat.

And when that “anybody” is myself, I have a reminder to take a look at what in the world I’m wanting to do with this weight loss stuff. Do I really want to better myself, or am I just talking big words, but ultimately being satisfied as a lazy, compromised, fattie?

I want better for myself. I will hit 340 and a hundred pounds lost. I want to be under 300 pounds. I will be 250.

And I want better for all of you than a lot of what I’ve been seeing lately!

I Rise This July

If you’re with me this month, then show some support and encourage your fellow Coalition bloggers to do the same. Add the July Uprising badge below to a blog post and get to dominating the next thirty one days.

http://4xlt.willphillips.org/img/uprising.jpg

I’m sick and tired of where I’ve been in my fight against my own apathy as of late and sure sick of reading about everyone else’s. Let’s turn the tide this month.