HEALTHY LIVING

SAVING MY LIFE... A Healthy Journey
A Diary Of My Daily Battle To Beat Diabetes
By Mark Hallburn
Publisher
PutnamLIVE.com

Maintaining my weight has been a battle-post high school. As a child,                                  I wore slim pants and                                   was the skinniest kid                                     in school. Really.

Growing up, I had                                     plenty of exercise.                                   With a pool in the                                     backyard and a bicycle                                    to ride, as well as                                       Little League and                                   playground football, I                                 never battled my                                       weight.

Summers were spent                                     at the beach, surfing                                Southern California's                                 waves. I wasn't "cut"                                    as I detested weight                                  lifting (surfing is SO MUCH more mentally challenging!) however, I was in very good shape. When winters brought cold water to Huntington Beach, I took up tennis and managed to keep most of the weight off.

College and work cut into my free time and as I filled out, the battle with the waistline began. I joined health spas only to rarely visit, as I was too busy. Various apartments had pools, and I swam thousands of boring laps when I didn't have time to get to the beach. I also sold my surfboard to pay tuition one semester which meant I was now body surfing, a better step for physical fitness.

In my 20's and into my 30's, I was able to keep my weight around 235. Not great for a 5-foot-10 inch tall man, but tolerable.

The nutrition crazed Southern California culture made healthy eating fairly easy. Fish tacos (really, they ARE delicious!) replaced Big Macs, fresh fruit shared my diet with too-fattening cheese and crackers, and, choices of salads were everywhere.

At various times I lived within a block or 10 miles of the beach. I kept a wet-suit in my office closet, body surfed at lunch, owned and sometimes used a treadmill, and, during the 70-degree San Diego winters, took long walks at beautiful Balboa Park, the San Diego Zoo, or Sea World.

Working at TV stations also helps the weight battle. When you work with pretty people, meaning skinny reporters and anchors, there is always a support system for healthy eating. Fresh fruit and fat-free deserts are brought in, and workout buddies are formed. Semi-celebrity news people don't like working out alone. They are often bothered by autograph seekers who want to talk about their glamour jobs. People mean well, but it interferes with the focus of a workout.

So, at various times, I worked out with a former San Diego sports anchor, and when I worked for CBS in Los Angeles, worked out with several anchors at the health spa across the street. Two-three hour lunches made it easy, and the shower and locker room in the basement of Columbia Square made it convenient.

Then I moved to West Virginia in 2000.

How do I say this tactfully: West Virginians love their food. And there is plenty of it. What we don't have is an ocean to surf, many sidewalks to ride bicycles on, and fish tacos are practically non-existent. Our access to fresh fruit is more limited, and a healthy lifestyle is just beginning to become part of our culture. And don't forget those endless family events with tabletops covered with fattening foods. I just can't say no! Various family members living in our home, didn't share my desire for healthy foods, brought home junk, and, of course, I ate it, even though I knew better. Making things worse, I was out of television and away from my "support groups."

When I arrived in Hurricane, I weighed 235 pounds. Cutting down a couple of trees and various yard projects kept me in reasonable shape, but few months later I shattered a forearm and was not allowed to exercise for months. Even after, my ability to do log-cutting and other activities has been severely limited.

While I brought the treadmill with me, it quickly broke, was not replaced, and though I bought an exercise bicycle and a rowing machine, they were never used.

Through the years, my weight ballooned to a very unhealthy 337. I wasn't happy, felt ugly, looked fat in pictures, kept outgrowing clothes, but without surfing and healthier food options, it was easy to make lame excuses while my weight kept increasing.

Through the years, my diabetic father, Jim, kept warning me not to follow his path. Despite living in a complex with a WONDERFUL heated pool (which I did countless laps in when I visited), two volleyball courts, a basketball court AND a full-size softball diamond, dad never used them and became an insulin-dependent diabetic. Countless phone calls from him contained the same irritating lecture: Don't become a diabetic. I blew him off, after all "It can't happen to me!"

It did.

Last summer, June 30th, I got the reality check: My wonderful Doctor, Rene Sta Ana, called and left me a voice mail. The tone of his voice scared the crap out of me. Blood tests came back. I was diabetic. The instructions were clear: "Get to my office NOW!" He didn't have to say "Do not pass Go, do not collect $200" He meant NOW and I got the message.

When I arrived, there was a row of pill bottles, a blood-glucose meter, a box of strips, and a very concerned doctor who wanted to save my life.

The orders were simple: "Cut back on the fatty foods, get you backside moving, and lose weight or die."

Dad was right. And, I hate when he's right and I know that he was right all along and I refused to listen.

I got Dr. Sta Ana's message, and started on a journey of losing weight. That day I weighed a huge 337. I was embarrassed, somewhat scared, and angry at myself for allowing this to happen. Making excuses was easy, my lifestyle had changed, but, ultimately, I COULD have exercised more and eaten less.

The other reality check was just two months away. After nine years of battling miscarriages and a stillborn, we finally had a baby on the way that looked like he would survive the pregnancy. Fatherhood was staring me in the face, which I loved, but I was in poor health. This meant I had to grow up, quit making lame excuses, and lose weight so I didn't have a stroke or heart attack and leave behind an eight-year-old son who would spend his life without his daddy.

Now THAT's a reality check!

Last July, I took a job in Myrtle Beach. While I quickly learned the employer wasn't a good match, the lifestyle change was perfect timing. Though inland, I lived at a hotel with a heated pool. This gave me lap time a couple of nights a week. And on Sunday afternoon's I hit the beach. Though the waves in Myrtle are a joke as far as body surfing is concerned, just swimming in the ocean is healthy. And when you're swimming, you aren't eating! Working long hours on the TV station's web site while maintaining PutnamLIVE.com didn't give me much time to exercise, but I had some time.

Hotel refrigerators are perfect for healthy living. They are so small you can't stuff them with a bunch of junk. And the tiny freezers don't allow room for fattening TV dinners. Shopping just for me meant lots of fruit, non-fat yogurt, fat-free deserts, and making good diet choices.

Finally, I was on my way to a healthy lifestyle again.

Amazingly, with all of the great restaurants in Myrtle Beach, with their endless buffets, I only endulged once in in four months, and even then, I hit the salad bar more than the prime rib buffet.

Working at the TV station meant more healthy eaters around me. The fruit and salad crowd were around me again, and though I didn't find a workout partner, the encouragement was wonderful.

My first month in Myrtle Beach had quick, positive results. I actually had to cut a notch in my belt to make it smaller. Though I didn't have a scale, I could see, and feel the difference.

Matthew was born August 29th, and the photos of me holding him made it obvious I had a way to go still. Too many chins made for an apparent fat father. And it pushed me harder to do something about my health.

I returned to West Virginia in late September. I lost my ocean exercise lifestyle again, but did manage to better maintain my diet.

Through the year, it became obvious that I was losing some weight, though not enough. For a while I considered a personal trainer, but didn't like the admission that I couldn't do it on my own. I considered a weight-loss diary on PutnamLIVE.com knowing that if I went public with my battle, I HAD to stay committed. I considered teaming up with the YMCA, or Teays Physical Therapy, to make things happen, but never had the courage to pick up the telephone. Oh, I thought about it, almost daily, but there was always a lame excuse for not picking up the phone or simply stopping in.

One day I couldn't make excuses anymore.

Earlier this summer, Keith Rappold of All Bases Covered called me to tell me about a new personal trainer that was moving into Tim Meeks' sports complex. He suggested that I call Clint Alley, a highly qualified personal conditioning and wellness expert. I knew that Keith's telephone call was the answer. I trust Keith and Tim's judgment completely. They are the finest of people. And if Keith recommended Clint Alley, he had to be "The real deal."

He is.

A former Tech Sergeant, retired after 20 years of serving our country, Clint Alley has a master's degree in personal training and has built a wonderful workout center, Power Up Strength and Conditioning, next to Kali's Pizza in Teays Valley.

While Clint was in the process of building Power Up, I went out and did a story about him and his programs. You can read it by clicking on the blue link below this paragraph.

Power Up Strength And Conditioning: Getting You In Shape The Right Way.

Clint Alley has one-track mind when it comes to diabetes-get rid of it. And getting rid of it means getting into shape the right way, changing your diet, and keeping a healthy lifestyle. That means his clients have to be committed to the program while he is committed to them. It's a two-way street. Working out with Clint means you can't cut over to Hardee's and have a thickburger to celebrate your lifting for the day. Buy the salad instead.

I first started working out with Clint in late July. Day by day, step by step, he started building me up to a new level of lifting, stepping, and other small exercises to get my body ready for the months to come.

And it will take months. I didn't need Clint to tell me that I would lose 100 pounds (my goal) in 30 days. Fantasyland is back in California. Losing 100 pounds is a journey, not a sprint.

I stopped by to see Dr. Sta Ana and check in with his scale. I was very pleased to learn that since June of 2007 I lost 34 pounds on my own. That's a good first phase. However, I realize I can't do it one my own, and that's where Clint comes in. KNOWING that I have appointments with him three times a week, knowing that I need to make progress, and can't eat junk in between, will keep me heading in the right direction.

And Clint Alley will make me head in the right direction. Part coach, part drill sergeant, part counselor, he is the perfect personality to drive me. I need a tough, but compassionate person. Clint is just that. I can "picture" him doing the Jack Nicholas line, "Truth, you can't HANDLE the truth!" while at the same time, after each set of exercises, he asks me how I feel, if my bad arm and bad knee are holding up, and encourages me to move forward in my journey to lose weight and beat diabetes.

Please join me in my journey as I start and enter a daily diary of my workout routine which commenced earlier this summer. I hope you are inspired to a healthier lifestyle, and, if you choose a personal trainer, give Clint Alley a call at 304-633-9217. He'll get you into shape-the right way!

October 15th-24th: I take some time away from my workouts to catch up on web site work and other issues. Running PutnamLIVE.com is a full-time job in addition to my 2nd shift full-time job.

October 6th, 2008: I'm beginning to hate the bicycle, but Clint calls it "My friend." Clint is crazy. Still, I am moving forward. Progress is good.

October 3rd, 2008: Another day of leg and shoulder workouts. I can feel the muscles toning up and getting stronger. I have a chicken quesedilla for lunch and a small salad for dinner. I am beginning to get tired of salads. I turn down the chance for Chinese food for lunch. Dieting is a hassle but the results are worth it. I have a son that I want to see grow up. I grab some plums and grapes to snack on through the day.

October 1st, 2008: I take my Wednesday off from Clint to prepare our home for the delivery of some furniture. By the time we are done moving a huge waterbed frame, I've had quite a workout and wish I was at Clint's instead. I HATE moving furniture and vacuuming!

September 29th: Another day for the legs. The bicycle gets a workout and so do I.

September 26th: It's leg day again. Of course, that means another day with "my friend" the bicycle. I grab a bottle of cold water from the fridge. (I keep it stocked for Clint and I.) It also means more steps, leg stretches, and other exercises to move me into shape. Workers come in and put up more mirrors and Clint's Power Up Strength and Conditioning continues to take shape. He's in his new building next to Kali's a great improvement over his former smaller facility. Each day I come in, Clint is smiling about a new piece of equipment, or more weights. These are tools to help people get into shape and stay there. I finish my workout with more sweat than ever as Clint continues to add more reps and more weights to my exercises. Though I have only been doing this about a month, I can already feel progress and look back on the "baby steps" that I started out from. 

September 24th: I do 5 1/2 miles on the exercise bicycles. I hate the bike, but it makes me sweat. As a journalist, I am sitting down more than moving, and I need this bike. After all, the one at home was never used, which is one of the reasons I got fat. Clint tells me the bike is my friend. Soon he will be installing flat screens in his new building to give me something to watch while I ride. Until then, I get "pumped" with his great selection of rock and roll music which I turn up when I arrive. Today we work on arms and shoulders, lifting, pulling, and doing other exercises. Clint has names for all of these things, but I don't remember them. I trust his judgment and go through my workouts. It's tiring, but I can feel my arms firming up and have more energy than I did a month ago. I actually remember my tennis shoes and leave them for my next appointment, much to Clint's chagrin.

September 22nd: I forget my tennis shoes on leg day. Clint jokes that I should bring them in and leave them there. I offer to take him up on that. While he was joking, I am serious. After my 10 minutes/2 miles on the bike, I do a series of leg steps, leg lifts, and other leg exercises. While I can "feel" each of them, none are painful and each means progress on my journey. Clint's encouragement and diligence is a perfect fit.

 

 

Clint
Alley