Friends and Kitties!
Sheebie here, and today my post is all about this Man:
my Dad.
Read the article HERE.
Do you see how he's swinging all happy and carefree and strong from the bars? He hasn't always been like this.
Allow me to digress.
My Dad is a wonderful guy, smart, funny, and he and my Mom have always watched their weight, exercised, and made (for the most part, LOL) intelligent food choices. He's had a few health issues kick him in the pants--prostate cancer*, a hernia operation, and the assorted aches and pains of getting old, and that was all--until recently. Late last year some routine tests revealed that his kidneys were excreting excess protein; and further blood work showed that his A1C, the long term measurement for diabetes, was on the rise indicating early onset of the disease. Being such a conscientious person, my Dad was more than a little upset that his body, which he treated so well, was failing him. I had been down to visit my folks in October and I had been struck at how frail he was looking, and I was quite concerned for his health--but how do you scold your parents when you're not sure what's wrong?
Well. Fortunately my parents invested their money wisely and sent me to college, where I majored in the thing that interested me the most--due to my upbringing in a healthy (and maybe a tiny bit obsessive) household--biochemistry. So I gave my Dad's test results some serious analytical thought and deduced (in a nutshell) that he didn't have enough muscle mass anymore. Now I had the ammo to give him a gentle scolding tutorial on how to heal himself, so I fired off a long e-mail and he took it to his doctor, who said (in another nutshell) "I think your daughter's right".
::fistpump::
Never one to let moss gather, my Dad joined a gym, and hired a personal trainer--a wonderful woman named Myrya--who has, over the past four months, shown my Dad how to build himself up.
And what a job she's done!
Of course, he's done all the actual hard work--and it shows. When I went down to visit last month the change in my Dad was incredible. He stood straighter, his chest was broader, even his hands looked firmer and more muscular! The essential tremor is gone in his head and hands, and he moves like he did twenty years ago. He's put on about five pounds, and I estimate that in total he's actually gained about seven pounds of lean, mean, metabolizing muscle and pared off a couple in fat.
It's been a huge paradigm shift for both he and my Mom, with him going to a supervised, organized work-out. First and foremost, my Dad has to eat more, and for a guy used to counting every calorie and gram this has been a little hard. Mom helps, by giving him a nice big snack every afternoon, the lucky dog. He's learned all about proper hydration, and maybe most importantly of all, the value of rest. They both used to do some cardio and stretching and light resistance work six days a week, which didn't give their bodies any significant recovery time. This has all changed. Not only have they pared down and simplified their routines, they take days off, and naps, too!
They say you can't teach an old dog new tricks, and so I'm forced to the only logical conclusion: My Dad ain't old yet!
Happy father's Day, Daddy--I'm so proud of you. You are an inspiration, both to me and to your son-in-law, who cites you as an important impetus for losing weight and getting healthy himself. I am everso grateful to have you as my Dad.
I Love You.
Happy Sunday, All!
XX Trish XX
*which he beat down to the mat, begging for mercy.
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