236 or…Davey G and a dramatic attempt to lower his cholesterol Part 1.

(Note: I’m splitting this up into multiple parts due to its length and due to the fact that part 2 still needs work. And to add dramatic tension. Hang in there.)

I’m going to write about something that may or may not interest anyone, but I write it out of the hope that maybe I can pass along a little of what I have learned in a relatively short period of time. I have found in the many years that I have been writing semi-publicly, I have been surprised at the positive reactions I receive when I simply write from the heart. Today, ironically, it is about the heart that I write.

Or more specifically, cholesterol.

I have always been in reasonably good health--no major diseases, I don’t get sick very often, and I am fairly active. I ride a bike to work, (and recreationally--read here) I walk frequently, and I work on my feet in a fairly un-sedentary life. I would consider my eating habits--well, not the best, but I have only ever had a vague sense of caution about what I eat. For example, I have always known that it is not a good idea to eat a lot of fried food, and that maybe red meat all the time is not always such a good idea. Once, back in high school, I was so freaked out by something the health teacher said about bacon that I didn’t eat it for 2 years. I don’t eat fast food, because I hate the way it tastes, I don’t eat potato chips---I could go on, but the point is that I have always believed that my lifestyle and eating habits were much better than the average American.

But overall, that has meant that I have gone under the assumption that because I was “active” and “ate well” that I didn’t really need to think about things like fat content or nutritional content because after all, I’m not fat and I take vitamins, and beyond that, I also don’t smoke.

So little did I suspect that I would have a problem with high cholesterol.

I hadn’t been to a Doctor’s office in over 12 years until I got insurance and began seeing one regularly. The first time I went I was holed up for 2 hours while I was given every conceivable test and questioned extensively about “family history” and my own personal habits. I was given kudos for not smoking, chided slightly for a 3 to 5 beers a day habit (only partly as a bi-product of working in a bar for so many years) and overall given a clean bill of health.

The next time I visited, I was told that my blood-work was “excellent” but that my cholesterol was just barely on the higher end of okay--just under 200. I figured that was fine, and I wasn’t told to change anything, so I didn’t.

On a later visit, I was told that my cholesterol had risen--up to about 214, and I was given the Fear of God speech, about how cholesterol builds up in your system and takes 15 years to get to your heart, which would put me right on schedule for a mid-life heart attack. The Doctor wasn’t worried, because there was no history of this in my family, but it was merely a friendly warning. I left the office with the thought that the one thing I was absolutely going to change right here and now was to go back to my boycott of bacon that had been so successful almost 15 years ago.

Then a few days later, I got a phone call from the Doctor’s office. “We need to see you. It’s about your test results.”

That’s never a good sign. But I went through all the possibilities, crossed out the more unlikely ones--if I had cancer or something, they wouldn’t tell me, they’d send me to a specialist first, right?--and tried not to worry about it until I could actually know what it was.

I made an appointment and saw my usual Doctor’s counterpart, a man with whom I was unfamiliar. He gave me the bad news: my cholesterol number had shot up to 236, and they wanted to put me on medication…

How did this happen? How could a healthy person like me have such a problem like this?

At the risk of being overdramatic, I have a lot to live for. In addition to a wife who loves me enough to keep me healthy and many animals who need me, I have so much I want to do. I have always planned on living to an old age and always being mentally and physically capable to write (speaking of which...) and make music and otherwise make the world at least marginally better for other people. I want to write many great books and travel to see wild polar bears and none of the things I want to do can be done if I die or become incapacitated when I’m 50. So I need to stay healthy and for the first time in my life, I need to care about what I eat and what I do to stay fit and avoid costly medication or future hospitalization.
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I told the Doctor “Wait, hold up,” and then told him that I needed some time to work on this before they put me on medication. Up to this point I had taken no steps to fix this, because no one had ever really told me how dire a situation it was. It was only then, sitting in that office that I became convinced that now was the time to take this seriously, that I could no longer “take my health for granted.”

I had to completely re-examine my life, and what I could do differently. Avoiding bacon is a good first start, but where else was I going wrong?

Next up: Things I love, but might have to cut down on…

Thoughts after the Tour du Port, October 4, 2009

Yesterday was my first venture into an organized bike ride: the Tour du Port, 50 mile course, organized by OneLessCar.org.
From Their site:

Every day we advocate for providing safe and effective transportation alternatives for all citizens through education, lobbying, and facilitation between our communities, governments, and state and local representatives. We believe that Maryland can be an example of the economic and social good that comes from a society where everyone – regardless of age, physical condition or economic background - has the opportunity to bike, walk or use mass transit to get where they need to go.

Why did I do 50 miles, instead of, say the 40, 20, or 12 mile course? Well, after doing an 80 mile round trip to York and back this summer, I thought 50 seemed about right. I learned a few things after that ride that prepared me pretty well for this one. For one thing, I got the water consumption right: four liter-sized bottles. And, remembering how much my hands hurt after that ride, I wore gloves for this one. I brought enough energy bars, had the right clothes (not biker gear, just something warm but not heavy), and overall, I was better prepared than I had ever been before.

I took the Metro at 6: 30 a.m to get to the event, while it was still dark out. There were more people on there than I would have thought at that hour on a Sunday, and many were sleepy. For me, half the challenge of this ride was just getting up so early. When I got to the Canton Waterfront Park, I signed in, got a pink wristband, and was told to get a “cue sheet,” which was a list of all the directions (but sadly, no map). Quite a few of the riders were scratching their heads: is this going to be confusing? How will we know where to go?

Luckily, the ride was pretty well marked. While the roads themselves were not closed to traffic, there were green arrows on the pavement, pointing which way to go, and at most of the major turns there were volunteers pointing the way.

If it is at all possible to read the cue sheets I have posted here, you might be able to figure out the route. I can tell you that we started at the park, went down through the Inner Harbor, to Federal Hill, then to Locust Point (where the volunteer pointing system broke down for a minute and a group of us got lost), then back to the harbor and over to Patterson Park, then into the heart of Dundalk and beyond…

Honestly, after a certain point I didn’t really know or care where I was. All I knew is that I was riding down a highway in East Baltimore, and as I am a pretty slow rider--ahead of the hundreds behind me but not really fast enough to keep up with the faster people--it did feel like a very solitary venture for long stretches. At least, until I looked behind me and saw more bikers coming.

The ride continued into the county, into farther points and places I’d never visited. There was the rest stop at North Point State Park, which, as I checked the cue sheet, turned out to be the 32 mile marker. Only 18 to go…

It was then sometime after this stop, maybe on the second pass of Dundalk Community College that I began to hit that wall. Tiredness, wind, and the hills were starting to take their toll. I stopped to eat another Clif Bar, change up my water and watch some more bikers go by. It was really quite a turnout. It was amazing to think about how for this one day, bikes truly ruled the streets.

I finished the ride in just a little over 4 hours, which means I was going at a pace of about 12 or 13 miles an hour. Not too bad for me.

Biking is very important to me, perhaps even more so now that I do not have a car. I enjoy the activity, the exercise, the fact that it saves me from things like having to worry about parking tickets or buying gas, plus in most cases it beats riding the bus. I don’t bike to make a political statement in some kind of Critical Mass-y sort of way, nor do I take it seriously enough to have a technical conversation about it. It is simply something I do because I have always done it. That said, I whole-heartedly support what OneLessCar.org is trying to do. Maybe if they can get people to consider altering their behavior, we can have less-congested cities, and healthier people. And while I’m at it: kudos to Mayor Dixon and her support for this event. And kudos to the city for putting up more bike lanes and to the Baltimore Bicycling Club for all those new bike racks around town.