More visual evidence that no one looks good exercising

Oh yeah. That's me right there to the right, looking less like an athlete and more like a cramping sloth whose shorts are way too tight as I make the final turn at a 10K I ran this past weekend in the lovely Newport section of Jersey City. My friend Theresa took it upon herself to snap this shot of me passing the girl I was using as a pace-setter for the final mile and while I would have preferred she didn't share it with the outside world, such is life sometimes. There I am, dragging myself through the last half mile of the longest distance I had ever run with my noticeable green and yellow shoes that are far too snazzy for a man with my fashion sensibilities.

On the plus side, though, it's hard to lose me in a crowd.

So yes, a few weeks after I ran an actual organized race for the first time, I decided to test my mettle again by doubling the distance. This may not have been wise. After all, 6.2 miles, while not an insurmountable distance, was not something I had ever pushed myself to. In fact, I often opt for the elliptical rather than jogging outside these days because I know my ankles and knees have gotten somewhat balky and running on pavement for roughly an hour straight isn't really going to help that. What's more, when you get past three miles or so, it's wise to kind of train for these things and gradually improve your mile base rather than just throwing yourself into the fire. My training involved exactly one run of 5.5 miles a week earlier, which nearly killed me since I may (definitely did) have had too much to drink the night before.

But hey, when you've lost 40 pounds in five months, I suppose you take it upon yourself to prove just how physically fit you are by indulging in these feats of endurance. If you're lucky like I am, the result of this is, well, survival. Beyond surviving, if you can deal with the lingering pain for at least a little while you're ahead of the game. In my case that pain was pretty ever-present, as I could feel some nasty discomfort hitting my right hip about halfway through the race. Fortunately for me, that is gone now, but my legs were extremely stiff for the first 48 hours after the race and just now are starting to loosen up a bit on me. All of those aches made the fact that my shoe got soaked when I stepped in a puddle during the first half mile seem immaterial by comparison.

At least the puddles should have been expected. It was a rainy day in the New York metropolitan area, which made me question why my friend Bert suggested we wait under the overhang of a nearby hotel until the race began. After all, we were going to get wet anyway. The pain in my hip was not expected though, making for an interesting personal struggle when your desire to finish is diminished by the assumed relief of resting, poor planning throughout the morning and the realization that you're never ever ever ever going to look like most of the people that run these races even if you keep collecting those spiffy number bibs.

But fear not, dear readers! I did in fact finish, running a spiffy 54:53.13 as my final time in my first 10K race, essentially a double of my 5K and according to most estimates, well ahead of the pace I probably should have run considering my 5K time and lack of preparation. A closer look at the final numbers, however, led to an entirely different kind of pain. Finishing your first 10K in a pretty respectable time is highly gratifying. That kind of gratification can go down the tubes when you look at the list of finishers and see that not one, not two, not three, but eight people who were above the age of 70 finished with faster times than I did. Whoops.

Then again, the winner of the race, Alene Reta, has been suspected of doping in the past so what can you really trust about these numbers? Not much I guess.

All I can trust in is that I was in good enough shape to finish and my hip just might feel normal again sometime soon to boot. If it doesn't I guess I'll do the unprecedented and see a doctor for the second time in a month, a remarkable turn of events considering this past Friday I went to the doctor for a routine physical for the first time in two and a half years. I suppose I should go more often, but when my doctor told me I was "doing an awesome job" with my health, I didn't really see any major incentive to come more regularly unless I need to, say, determine my physical fitness for climbing a mountain. (Journalism warning: This is called burying the lede. In this case it has been buried deeper than most mine shafts.) Most of you already know this, but for those who don't, I am going to East Africa this summer, specifically Kenya and Tanzania, for a lengthy vacation that will include, among other things, climbing Kilimanjaro. This is, obviously, not an easy task, but it's one I believe I'm capable of, though getting a doctor's opinion was an important precursor to my plane flight this July. The first opinion I got, from the doctor's assistant, was not exactly what I expected.

"White people are crazy."

Is it crazy? Yeah, probably, but I'm not really sure it's all that much crazier than running three, six or 26 straight miles without stopping just to see if you can. The more jarring opinion on anything I got was from my doctor, who told me that while my weight-loss plan was both successful and impressive, I didn't need to lose anymore weight. This is, obviously, good news, but it's strangely disappointing when you're oh-so-close to a highly publicized weight loss goal. (Note: The doctor measured me at 182.) On the plus side, my doctor didn't tell me that I couldn't lose anymore weight, so we forge on. After all, there are less than six weeks left, so it's truly nose to the grindstone time, though this will not be helped by the wedding I'm attending this weekend in North Carolina.

No matter. It's the home stretch, I'm this close, I'm going to finish the race. Is it necessary? Apparently not. But at the very least I can reassure myself than when I finish this race, well, I'll look a hell of a lot better than I did when I finished that 10K in Jersey City.

CROWD-SOURCED WEIGHT LOSS PLAN DAY 171!

Days until sister's wedding: 39
Target weight: 175
Starting weight: 219
Weight today: 179.8