The Dean's List

It was inevitable...

noreply@blogger.com (Dean Landers) — Sun, 29 Jan 2012 04:21:00 +0000

Most people have done it. They change their diet, and everything is going great.
But then, you have a moment where you want to go back to your old way of eating. Some call it a cheat. My wife calls it "living."

So, today was sort of a cheat day. The wife and I, along with baby boy, headed out to breakfast with some friends. I had an egg omelet with cheese and sausage, and a bowl of fruit. I skipped the toast. Probably should have skipped the cheese. Seemed like there was a lot of cheese.

Lunch was whole wheat pizza with some pepperoni. Low fat cheese. One of those fundraiser pizzas. After not having any pizza for a month, this tasted like a gift from Athena.

And then came the deal-beaker. Wendy's. You might think, "oh noes!"

Well, I had a burger, with cheese, on a white bread bun, a cup of chili, and a diet soda. I could have gone for fries, but I figured the burger was enough.

So now, I'm sitting in my recliner on the top floor, kind of regretting the burger. I have that solid feeling in my stomach. I feel like it's sticking out again. This is not a good feeling.

I did take some time, while eating the burger, to savor it, just a little. Still, it doesn't seem as if it was worth it. I'm going to have to find a better cheat next time.

Tomorrow is a new day.

On the right track..

noreply@blogger.com (Dean Landers) — Wed, 18 Jan 2012 18:21:00 +0000

I like to think that I'm an intense guy. But, I know that I'm really not all that intense. I have my passions, and my passions bring out the best in me.

Some people are passionate about exercise. I, for one, am not afraid to admit that I am not. But, with DDIP, the passion is brought to you. And if you just absorb a little of what's being thrown at you, you will open yourself up to more absorption.

So, when I wake up at 4:29am on the days of DDIP, I want to go back to bed. I want to curl up with my wife and dog and not think about exercise. I want to listen to my infant son coo and caw and get comfortable in his cradle.

But, as soon as my truck starts up and I start driving, I start feeling that energy. I start to get excited about what is about to be thrust upon me, what's going to make me sweat and hurt and wear me down.

Today was a perfect example. I see BBM walking in to the gym, and I felt myself get nervous. Her workouts have been hard lately. Not just DDIP hard. We're talking making you do things you haven't done before, pushing yourself to a limit, and then exceeding that limit. All the while, she's telling you to NOT GIVE UP, and to KEEP GOING. To push through your mental block. To exceed your own expectations.

********

The "diet" is going great. I still have more sugar to cut out, but I'm treating this as a weaning process and not a cold turkey process.

I believe I'm already down a fair amount, after two weeks of eating this way.

And, by "diet," I mean the following definition:

di·et/ˈdī-it/

Noun:

The kinds of food that a person, animal, or community habitually eats.

Still cookin'

noreply@blogger.com (Dean Landers) — Fri, 13 Jan 2012 01:40:00 +0000

Well, I do have one thing to admit. I haven't weighed myself. I'm embarrassed. It's kind of strange being embarrassed by yourself, when nobody is around. But, I don't want to see that number. I want to wait some more time and see how I do. Maybe after the first 30 days. I officially started January 5th.

Last night, after going without dairy for 10 days or so, I tasted some sour cream. It honestly tasted like somebody frothed a gold bar of nectar and placed it in my mouth. It was rather incredible. I didn't let myself have too much of it. I have too many goals in front of me.

I'm not going to give up on this. I'm just starting. I will win.

My goal for this session in DDIP is two-fold. 1. Get back to where I was. I was strong before. I just want to get stronger. Be able to do those pushups again. I came up with an exercise the other day that is going to require more strength before I show people. I can't wait. 2. At every single class, bring with it the fire I've had in the past. Get people motivated. Get people awake and alive. Yell every class. Let go of inhibition and be LOUD.

Every time I think I'm going to step back, my wife is there to make sure I'm doing the right things. She wants me to weigh myself. I think that if I do, I'll be able to resist the urge to go to Wendy's.

Wow

noreply@blogger.com (Dean Landers) — Fri, 06 Jan 2012 21:14:00 +0000

So, I went shopping last night. For food.

I noticed a very interesting thing about my experience. Other than the fact that I don't know where ANYTHING is in the new store close to my house...

All of my shopping basket contents were from the outer perimeter of the store. Not a single thing came from an aisle. I bought nothing in a box. Or a can.

There can't be anything wrong with that. I did spend a tiny amount of time in the freezer section, though, just to get some frozen vegetables.

Tonight's menu includes:

Roasted pork tenderloin
Roasted sweet potatoes, peppers, onions, and other vegetables
Some type of salad, with a vinagrette dressing
Water (copious amounts)

I can feel the hunger in my stomach. But I'm not exactly "hungry." I think I'm a little "unfull." When I lost 33 pounds on Weight Watchers several years ago, I remember feeling this way. After the second week, I didn't feel that way any more. So, I'm banking on this being a temporary situation. I already feel less "sloshy" during workouts. I know there hasn't been a major reduction, but I can feel the bloating go away.

Going to be a great weekend.

Day 3 - Knowing how far you have fallen

noreply@blogger.com (Dean Landers) — Wed, 04 Jan 2012 20:29:00 +0000

Today showed me how far down I've gone from where I once was. Pushups are harder. Leg lifts are nearly impossible. Squat thrusts/burpees are unimaginable. But, today, I have to admit that I had some fire. I led the warmup. Tried to get the gang going (and myself), ready for BBM to thrash us around for an hour.

I still haven't made it to the grocery store yet. Simply because the child has needs, and I need to be hanging out with the baby at night. Something about that fatherly bond. So, the plan is to go Thursday. The Mrs. has already made a list. I also haven't weighed myself in ages. I guess I should, just to find out where I reside on the scale.

I forsee the most difficult thing being eliminating dairy from my diet. And that's really just because we have SO MUCH DAIRY in the house right now. And yes, it's delicious.

A few links to some resources:

Robb Wolf's website, the author of The Paleo Solution:
http://robbwolf.com/

A Paleo Quick Start Guide:
http://robbwolf.com/wp/wp-content/uploads/2010/09/thePaleoSolution_QuickStart.pdf

A Paleo Shopping List:
http://robbwolf.com/wp/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/shopping-list.pdf

Soon, I will do a review of The Paleo Solution. Drill asked me to, and I said I would after implementing the diet for a while. I think I'll do that sooner than later.

Day One

noreply@blogger.com (Dean Landers) — Mon, 02 Jan 2012 21:06:00 +0000

So, today is Day One. Numero Uno.

The best way to describe it? "You gotta start somewhere"

I remember when I started DDIP. How I felt. How I hurt. How, when during exercises, I could feel my belly sloshing all over the place.

That's how I felt today.

After one month of eating bad food, not working out, I've taken a complete back step of where I was. I felt awful. I felt fatigued. I felt like a fat guy.

I couldn't do the exercises. I couldn't complete every set. I had to take breaks.

And then, something happened. Drill, who was leading the group, walked by me and said, "remember what your motivation is, Deano. He's at home, sleeping in his crib."

I smiled. It hit me. It made me realize why I was there. I'm not there for myself anymore. I'm there for him. I'm there to make myself better so I can be around a long time.

I didn't quit. I didn't give up, other than take a few "breathers" during the class.

I just kept thinking about that baby boy, all 7 and a half pounds of him. About how we almost lost him.

In school circle, Drill pointed out that he and I had been in communication with each other. Then he said he was taking me on as an AB. We're going to work together for the next 8 weeks to get better. To get healthier. To start this party right.

I haven't stepped on a scale. I'm afraid to. But, like I said, you gotta start somewhere. Weight is a NUMBER. That's it. I just have to make that number, whatever it is, start to shrink and get closer to where it needs to be.

And I know just the person who can help me.

The new year upon us...

noreply@blogger.com (Dean Landers) — Fri, 30 Dec 2011 22:27:00 +0000

When I started DDIP, I was heavy, out of shape, miserable. We've talked about this. Again and again.

I used the training to get stronger, faster, and lose some weight. One thing I never really changed was my diet. I wasn't interested. I thought I was training hard enough that I didn't NEED to change anything.

Well, when the baby was born, I couldn't work out as much, and after a month of him being here, I've realized that I MUST CHANGE IT NOW.

I've read a book or two. Now it's time to implement. Not going to be easy. Total change in approach and a completely different way to eat.

Eat to live. Not live to eat.

Motivation Station

noreply@blogger.com (Dean Landers) — Thu, 27 Oct 2011 15:04:00 +0000

Motivation is a funny thing. Some days you have it. Some days you don't. I like to think that I usually have it. I'm usually that guy that people can turn to for a spark. For a shout out. For a smile.

Yesterday, I didn't have it. I kept putting my knees down on the plank walk. I had trouble with the stairs (my ankle still struggles with the shock of high impact exercises...)...but then...I arrived at the foam pit.

I hate that thing. I swear at it. I have hate in my heart when an instructor presents it to us. I loathe it, because I struggle with it.

When Rob showed it to us yesterday, I told myself, "if he thinks I'm going through that stupid thing, he can go screw."

Well, I stared at it. The foam pit stared back at me. I kept staring. Then, Rick Bruno, the hard-charging motivator that he is, came over to me, and said, "you're going through this thing whether you like it or not. Because I'm going with you."

After a solid minute of talking me into it, I took that plunge. I jumped in. I struggled, but I traversed the blocks. I climbed over them, I climbed through them. Rick Bruno was with me the whole way.

I have him to thank as my source of motivation. As a disciplined squad leader, a devoted father and husband, and one of the hard-chargin' motivators of DDIP-IVMF, he is the reason I made it through yesterday.

Sometimes You're the Fly. Sometimes You're the Windshield.

noreply@blogger.com (Dean Landers) — Thu, 25 Aug 2011 15:23:00 +0000

I'm not sure if it's this weather or what, but something has me down today. Headache, fatigue, restlessness. Part of it is stemming from still being hurt to the point where I can't run and I need to run. I need to feel physical exhaustion. When I'm physically exhausted, my mind works better. It's more focused on tasks and not on exerting stored energy.

Yesterday was the Manna Run. It's when we take food to the local pantry and donate, running the entire way. It's a good feeling to give, especially when a volunteer is nearly brought to tears from the amount we give (if you have 100 people donate, each person doesn't have to give much to make a difference).

Several DDIPers got together BEFORE THE MANNA RUN, to log a few more miles. I kept thinking to myself, "I want to run, but I'm still not ready."

So, in an effort to keep the Manna Run (or walk, as it were) interesting for me, I brought the dog. She needs exercise, and a good 2 miles (to Manna and back to our starting point) would do her good. So she an I brought up the rear while the rest of the group ran. Then I thought I could run. I took a few of those giddyup-steps.

No chance, at all.

The tendon is still sore where the sprain happened, and it's still swollen. So, at this point, I don't know how long it's going to be before I can get back to doing what I was doing. All I know is that it's dragging me down, mentally.

I feel like I was making improvements, getting in better shape, slimming down, and then I got whacked with an injury.

Now, I see many of my comrades, friends, fellow DDIPers making wicked improvements, and I can't resist but feeling jealous. Jealous that I can't charge hard with them, that I'm limited. I can't even do the sprints that I used to excel at. It's extremely frustrating.

So, I need something to lift me back up. Fix my mind back to where it was. Put me in my place.

I know my setback isn't nearly as bad as other's, such as Lundin or my wife. But I'm always quick to get down on myself. I'm the first one.

Getting back.

noreply@blogger.com (Dean Landers) — Thu, 18 Aug 2011 14:58:00 +0000

When you're hurt, your mentality changes. At least mine does. I constantly think that I'm going to lose all of my gains and replace them with fails. I fear that I won't be able to do a pushup. A sit up. A squat thrust.

I finally went back to the doctor. He told me that it was okay to go back to DDIP, but to lay off the high impact exercises and the running for a while. Three more weeks of no high impact exercises and most likely another month to THREE months of long distance running. But, he told me to get back on it and do what I could do.

Something in my body told me to take a break. Let the body rest. It ended up being a bit longer than I had planned, but for some reason I felt like I needed it. I started back to class last Friday, officially. I missed a week and a half of the session. I made sure I made it to a Drill workout on Friday, and started back to regular workouts on Monday.

The first thing we did was pushups. I honestly thought that I wasn't going to be able to do them. And yes, they kind of hurt. Hurt, in the sense that I couldn't do them. However, while they were hard, I could do them. It wasn't impossible. We did more on Wednesday. I started feeling that range of motion come back. I could get all the way down, keep my back straight.

So, I'm back. I have to modify a lot of stuff. I can't do side-straddle hops, I can't run, and I can't jump. But I can modify. I can keep the motivation up. I can keep up with the group.

While I was "hurt," I started losing that motivation. I lost that dedication. But I realized that all I needed was to put one foot in front of the other, make the right steps toward the goal, and not look back.

It's all about hard work and some determination. By the end of the summer, I hope to be running again. Which, when I type that sentence, I can't believe I'm saying it. I want to get out and put the miles behind me, and see the miles in front of me.

Long ways to go. I've come a long way. One little set back isn't gonna push me down. I'll push back.

Firework

noreply@blogger.com (Dean Landers) — Tue, 05 Jul 2011 03:23:00 +0000

Well, it happened. I got hurt.

Not badly. Just hurt.

We were on a trail run on Friday morning, and ended up in a bit of a precarious position. I jumped over some new sewer cover that was elevated above the ground, and landed on both feet, but my right foot landed on an angle.

CRRRAAAACKKKK!

YEOUCH!

I said a lot of colorful words, and realized that I had hurt myself. It was probably from a tough week of training, running, work, et al that had me tired. Luckily, Coop and Sheetz were there to help me, immediately put ice on the ankle, and help me hold it up until the calvary arrived.

I didn't know who was gonna come and get me. I just knew I couldn't make it back without a lot of help. After we waited for a little while (not that long), I see a familiar Volvo coming down the road, throws on the flashers, and stops in the middle of rush-hour traffic. Crazy Chrissy came to get me. And Coop. And Sheetz.

Apparently, she heard I was down, and hauled ass back to her car to come and get me, and hurt herself in the process. She basically did the same thing to herself that I did to myself, spraining her ankle. She has weak ankles just like I do, but I tend to think that hers are worse. Bad news when you do the kind of training we do. I'm surprised I made it this long without getting hurt.

So, I'm out a week or so, I would guess. This is going to put a short hold on my half marathon training, which sucks, but I'll just have to wait until I can get this thing moving again.

However, that's not what this post about. It's about DDIP, the friendships, the togetherness, the people. She knew I was hurt, so she came back to help me, to the detriment of herself. Some people in this program just 'get it.' Those are the hard chargers, the A-team. The people who stick together.

Booger Crumbled

noreply@blogger.com (Dean Landers) — Fri, 17 Jun 2011 13:22:00 +0000

First of all, I need to tell you something about me. I hate running.

I really do. I run in races and things, but I still hate it. I do the races and whatnot because I have to overcome the problems I have with running.

So, I asked one of our instructors, Ironwoman BBM, about what she saw on Wednesday at the Manna Run, and she introduced me to something called Chi Running (www.chirunning.com)

I watched a few YouTube videos, and thought to myself, "can't hurt to try." So this morning, Drill took IV on a NASTY fartlek through the depths of Harleysville. I tried the new motion of running with my arms at my sides, leaning forward, using my legs to propel instead of just lifting them up and down.

And running no longer hurt. Well, that's not entirely true. It hurt a little, most likely because the shoes I wear to class are completely dead. There's very little cushion, my foot moves inside of them, and they generally suck. I was able to accelerate better and keep a better pace. I still got tired, my legs were on fire, but I didn't really feel pain while running.

My next step is to order the book on Chi Running. Read up a little. And continue training. I'm not training for anything in particular, except for the future.

I'm not a runner. Maybe 50 lbs from now I could consider myself a runner. But I'm definitely not a runner. Because running sucks.

How to stay alive

noreply@blogger.com (Dean Landers) — Sun, 29 May 2011 03:02:00 +0000

I was approaching 300 pounds. I was miserable. I ate McDonald's food three times a week. I hated a lot of things, including my job. I needed something. A catalyst. Something to lift me up.

That was over a year ago. I've come far. I'm almost closer to 200 than 300. It's a long process. It's something that takes effort.

I don't know if I put as much effort into a year of college as I have into my health in the past year. I'm not perfect. I've had setbacks. I've had plateaus. I've made mistakes. I've succeeded. I've failed.

I've met some great people. I've made new friends. I now have a group of people who ask me to hang out. I have a group of friends to count on. I have people who sent me random text message telling me that I'm a motivator, that I've impressed them, that I'm making strides.

It's not a bunch of bullshit. It's an ego boost, yes, but it's also something that builds you up from the inside. The mental game is just as important as the physical game.

I've gone from having a 40 inch waist to a 36 inch waist. I've gone from wearing 2XL shirts to wearing XL shirts. I can still wear my 2XL shirts, but my wife usually asks how my swim is going when I'm in them.

I like where I'm going. I like where I've been. If you don't know where you've come from, you may not know where you're going.

I had it in myself all along. This program brought it out. Now that it's out, I never want to put it back in. I will wear it with pride.

Feeling Alive

noreply@blogger.com (Dean Landers) — Thu, 26 May 2011 01:04:00 +0000

After my first session, we moved locations to Franconia Park in Harleysville. I had learned the meaning of DDIP from an inside location, but now I was going to be training outside. Something I dreaded.

Not that training outside is bad. But it's hard. And dealing with something that was hard was something I was a little concerned about. I didn't want another obstacle. I wanted things to get easier.

This is NOT how DDIP works.

So, we moved to the outdoors, and training in part-dark, part sunrise, part early morning began. The bugs. The dirt. The mud. A playground of land to run in. To do pushups in. To sprint in. To do side-straddle-hops in.

I was still at the point where I was new to the program. It was my second session, but I was determined to make myself stronger. The problem was that I hated to run. I still do. As soon as I step off, I want to quit. I want to stop.

There is no quitting in DDIP.

Somehow, we were lucky for those 8 weeks, because there was no rain. None. It made for some dusty mornings, but it made it easier to deal with.

There's a different mentality when training outside. The source of motivation is different. When you're in a gym, you're constantly moving back and forth. So when you feel like you're lagging behind, here comes somebody to help you out.

Outside is different. We would go on runs, or marches, and people would extend away from you. You have to find it within yourself to catch them, or at least keep up with them. It's not easy. Especially when you are slower than them. Heavier than them. Not in as good of shape as them.

But, I persevered. I'm still persevering. I'm still trying to catch up. I've found a group of people who don't judge you by how fat or thin you are, by how beautiful or ugly you are, or by how fast or slow you are. They don't judge you. They find out who you are, and accept you as you are. There is no judgement. There's only encouragement and motivation and acceptance.

If the rest of the world was like this, we'd all be better off.

Our First Graduation

noreply@blogger.com (Dean Landers) — Fri, 20 May 2011 00:38:00 +0000

Our first graduation was at GMC (www.gmc.edu) on a Friday. Melissa was still recovering from surgery, but she went with me to join in the raucous good time. Both platoons (and the nighties) all got together and basically celebrated the past 8 weeks as a unit, celebrating what we'd accomplished and looking at how far we had come. I don't remember a whole lot from that day, but something very important happened.

Drill gives out awards each session to different recruits. This is something extra that he does to award sometimes the recruit with the most heart, the most discipline, the most motivating, and the coveted honor grad.

Discipline and Motivation awards are nearly self-explanatory, but the Heart and Honor Grad aren't exactly known to the layperson. The Honor Grad goes to a veteran who has been around, exemplifies what DDIP is all about, and has earned a free 8 week session. Drill has described the Heart Award as a 'rags to ritches' story of fitness. Somebody who comes into the program with little physical prowess and completely encompasses themselves into the undertaking.

Drill called our names that day for the Heart Award. I had no idea what it was, but I imagine that the commitment to success after the major injury to Melissa and the fact that we never faltered in our mission is what made us get recognized.

Whatever it was, it showed me that I had come a long way since being called "fatass" and "fat piece of sh!t" in high school so many years ago. I had finally been accepted into something where there is no fake, no garbage, no politics, and no negativity. I had waited my entire life to find something like this. This was my comeuppance. It was something that I deserved. It was something that I needed.

Now that I had found it, I wanted to capitalize.

Moving along...

noreply@blogger.com (Dean Landers) — Mon, 16 May 2011 00:11:00 +0000

After Melissa had her surgery, we were in a world of hurt. She was off work, depressed, sad. Little did we know that the group of people we had recently friended were more than willing to help us. Dinners, visitations, hanging out....they were a group of people we had known for roughly 6 weeks, but were always trying to help us. She began her long recovery from the couch as I tried to help as much as I could while still trying to hold it together in New Jersey.

I was still determined to keep going strong. And Melissa encouraged me from the couch. It wasn't easy for her to see me making improvements while she had the worst setback she could have imagined.

I had to keep charging, but I needed her with me. Mentally and spiritually. Good things were to come.

An interruption...

noreply@blogger.com (Dean Landers) — Sat, 07 May 2011 02:25:00 +0000

I've been working on some stuff to tell my DDIP story, but this morning is too much to NOT talk abot what went on. My post to the DDIP collective website....

Everyone should understand that we are a part of something. Sometimes all the love spawns animosity, and can manifest itself in a friendly competition.

I'm glad to be a part of something where we push each other harder and harder every day, motivate each other, praise each other, and help each other.

This is an amazing group of people, from the newbies to the most experienced of the veterans. I'm proud to know each and one of you.

Congratulations to the award winners. Each of you has earned a special place within DDIP. Congratulations to the new graduates, who have now been indoctrinated within the ranks of this program.

I honestly don't know where I would be right now without DDIP. I don't know where I would be without the likes of Drill, Coop, Stoney, Val, Crazy, Cherone, Patrick O'Neil, BBM, Iron Mike, Hurricane, Instructor Phil, Tami, Cook, Rico, Bruno, Beebach, Zimm, KC, Cook, Bandit, Hooly, Ten, et al. You all are my second family up here. I've never been made to feel like an outsider. And that list leaves NONE of you out. You are all a part of this. If I had room I would list every single one of you.

An amazing group of people we have here. I say that a lot, but it's true. You all are the reason I get up in the mornings. You're my reason for losing almost 50 pounds. You've done this for me.

I can only hope that I give a sliver of it back to you.

My mother came to visit IVMF a few weeks ago. She wanted to see what this was all about. She walked out of there and said, "WOW."

If you guys ever need anything, call me. Text me. Email me. Whatever. I don't care what time it is or where I am. I will try to help.
Bring on Session 23.

We had a huge group of people this morning, dressed in black, decked out with war paint, all to bring some motivation and excitement to graduation. Words cannot express right now the amount of excitement and cohesiveness we had. I've been up since 4am.

Best graduation so far.

These two people pulled me from a personally tough 8 weeks, along with some very select others, namely Ten and Stoney. Just incredible. I love these people.

A Real Bad Day...

noreply@blogger.com (Dean Landers) — Sat, 16 Apr 2011 21:23:00 +0000

April 14, 2010.

Things in life were improving. Work life was getting better, as a new zest for life was coming to fruition, as the catalyst was exercise. Married life started improving, as I wasn't always suffering from bad moods and exhaustion.

Drill was in the house that morning, at the Indian Valley YMCA. Drill's workouts were always different from the other instructors. Drill's workouts were...different. He always mixed it up, giving you different ways to tackle motivation, harness it, and exact it upon some unsuspecting passerby. He drove us to new heights.

He designated that morning as "ARMY PT Test" morning. We were going to see how many situps and pushups we could do in a minute. And then we were heading out on a 2 mile run. We were being timed by the now notorious BBM (Barbara Beth Martin), so we were gonna go get after it for an hour.

We headed outside, and started with pushups. My AB, Patrick O'Neil, started off. I'm pretty sure he eclipsed 60+, as an experienced veteran. Then came my turn.

I remember my first day. We did pushups that day. I could do 4. Without stopping. 4. Four. F. O. U. R. Four.

That day, I felt pretty good. This was 5 weeks in. I did 52. I couldn't believe it.

Then we did situps. Patrick hit some obscene number near the triple digits. I didn't fare nearly as well, as I think I was only around the 40 mark. Way up from the zero I could actually do the first day without evacuating my dinner from the previous evening. Or at least some gaseous representation of it.

So, I was pretty happy. Pretty motivated. Pretty excited. The group took off on a run, which I still wasn't acclimated to doing. Melissa and I stayed in the back of the pack. She told me how many pushups and situps she did, how proud of herself she was. How she couldn't believe how far she had come in 5 weeks. Shannon was with us. I'm not sure who was the proudest of the two of us. Me, Melissa, or Shannon.

We caught up to the group as they were completing this two mile jaunt around a cinder-based track near an elementary school. I took off, trying to keep my breathing steady, my shoulders relaxed, and motor through two miles like it was nothing, when in reality it was the farthest I'd run since high school.

I finished up, and some people were still motoring along. Melissa wasn't really supposed to run that much, as she has a condition that causes her bones to be quite brittle, and a break could happen from anything majorly high-impact. So, she was slowly trotting around the track. Working hard, since she always did.

So, she hits her last straight-away. Patrick is with her. Drill is with her. LKC is with her. People motivating her along, telling her she can do it, to sprint off the rest few steps. To work hard. To finish strong.

And she did. She was strong. I saw it all. I saw that fire in her eyes. I saw her smiling.

She crossed the finish line, triumphant. She took that last tell to transition back to walking. And then everybody who was there that day, will tell you, heard something pop.

POP.

Melissa's Achilles tendon tore. It tore in half. Like an old rope on a sailboat that has been pulled taught one to many times. Completely shredded.

She collapsed onto Patrick O'Neil. Her world collapsed. Her life collapsed. My entire outlook on the future twisted on that cinder track. Everything she had worked toward for the past 5 weeks was obliterated. It happened in an instant.

Drill and Patrick helped her into the Jeep. She couldn't move it. Luckily she wasn't in that much pain. I stood there, helpless. I couldn't fix anything now. I was picturing her needing surgery, laying in bed, or on a couch, for months. What would I do? The program and exercise routine I was starting to fall in love with just tore my wife into a million pieces.

We got home, and I grabbed a few things to take to the hospital, like my phone, wallet, etc. Drill ran over from his house, and duct-taped a giant ice-pack to her ankle. He gave her a kiss and said "stay motivated." I could tell that he might have been a little heart-broken over it. All three of us were.

I took her to the hospital. ER doc fitted her with a temporary cast, told us to see an orthopedist, and sent us along. By 1pm that day, we met with a surgeon, scheduled an MRI for the next day, and went home. Tears flowed. I tried consoling her. Not much was going to improve her mood.

She had surgery on the 22nd of April. What followed was a summer of her being on the couch for most of it. I was still working in Jersey.

The amazing thing that happened was that members of the DDIP family brought us dinners, came and visited, continually asked about her and how she was doing. I didn't miss a class because of the injury (an advantage of the class being at 5:30am), so it was still helping me, but hurting her every day because I could go and she couldn't.

[DISCLAIMER: We knew that something like this could happen, so we never really blamed the DDIP program for her getting hurt. It was just unfortunate that it happened there. She could have been walking our dog, stepped off of a curb, and torn it then. Never will we ever direct the blame anywhere except for a case of bad luck and terrible timing.)

A New Birth

noreply@blogger.com (Dean Landers) — Tue, 05 Apr 2011 23:35:00 +0000

After the first few weeks of DDIP, something happened on the inside. I started finding a balance I'd never had before. I'm fairly certain, looking back, that it was from the physical exhaustion that my mind was able to catch back up.

See, the physical torture that my body was going through with the driving to work every day, a suffering marriage, and a suffering mental state started having a toll on my weight and my happiness. I was losing that balance I had in my life previously to starting to work in New Jersey.

I considered DDIP a new birth for me. I was meeting great people, I was working out like I'd never worked out before, and I thought I had found an answer to a lot of my troubles. I was sore a lot, but I was sleeping like a baby at night. I was truly finding who I was again.

I learned that DDIP wasn't really the answer I had been looking for. DDIP was simply the catalyst of my motivation. The motivation came truly from within. It was always there. When Shannon talked about it to me, I knew that's what I wanted to do.

The motivation was there all along. Everybody has their motivation. It's the job of the individual to find it.

The Introduction of Drill

noreply@blogger.com (Dean Landers) — Thu, 31 Mar 2011 02:21:00 +0000

Your first class with Doctor Drill is something you'll not soon forget. The man can take over a room with a simple "Good Morning, IV!" He can build you up. He will make you laugh. He will make you feel like you can do anything.

I remember when he walked into that gym that first day. He commanded attention. He commanded respect. He struck fear into you, if you didn't know was about to happen.

I was petrified.

When he walked into the room, we were already standing at attention. We were already warmed up. He walked in and stared us down. He was a Drill Sergeant. Not unlike R. Lee Ermey from Full Metal Jacket. Gunnery Sergeant Hartman. I was completely unprepared.

Drill knew everybody. He knew every name. He knew how we felt.

He led us through an hour of exercises, most of which I failed to accomplish. From side-straddle-hops, to super jacks, to combo-calisthenics (not for the faint of heart), I'd never been through such a workout.

It was fantastic.

Class took on a whole different meaning from there on in. Drill classes were different when he was there. The other workouts were great, but he had (and still has) such a presence that everything changes when he is/was there.

Every DDIPer out there will tell you, never miss a Drill workout. The reasons for never missing are:
1. He'll know that you aren't there. He will ask why.
2. You'll most likely miss something that hasn't been done yet. And may never be repeated.
3. He'll know that you aren't there. He will ask why.

No workout is EVER the same at DDIP. They all have similarities, but none are ever the same. That's the best part.

Newbie Soreness

noreply@blogger.com (Dean Landers) — Thu, 31 Mar 2011 02:10:00 +0000

Veteran DDIPers talk about something called "Newbie Soreness." It, they say, is expected, for people not used to rigorous physical training. It doesn't come the day of your training. It doesn't come the day after you training.

It comes two days after your training. If you don't believe me, ask anybody. They'll tell you. They'll tell you that it's something that everybody goes through. They'll tell you that it's worth it. They'll tell you to just keep working.

It was St. Patrick's Day, 2010. My wife, the Irish fan she is, LOVES her some St. Patrick's Day. We got up that morning, worked out, and went to work. We got home, and decided we'd head out with her brother and his girlfriend for a green beer and a bite to eat.

Everything was fine.

Until we sat down for dinner that is. I knew I was sore. What I didn't know was that it would be impossible to stand up AFTER dinner, as my muscles had contracted and cemented during dinner, unbeknown to me.

My legs hurt. My arms hurt. My eyes hurt. My head hurt from processing all of the hurt.

I learned that stretching and drinking enough water to flood a small basement helped, but only a little. The soreness was something that you earned. It was something to remind you that you worked hard. It was something to remind you that you were still alive. And it was something that would eventually go away.

My Personal Indoctrination

noreply@blogger.com (Dean Landers) — Mon, 21 Mar 2011 14:20:00 +0000

My wife and I walked into our first ever DDIP workout, scared to death. I didn't know anybody, outside of Ralph and Sho'neil, and I didn't know what to expect. All I knew was that the next 60 minutes were going to possibly change me forever.

After people started to show up, I noticed that we were welcomed with open arms to a group of people. All walks of life were in the gym that morning. The old, the young, the large, the small. They were all there for one reason: to get fit.

A post-knee-surgery Zimm hobbled in on a crutch, and Shoneil takes one look at him and yells out, "TINY TIM!!!" Hugs and smiles followed.

I was introduced to two instructors: Iron Mike and Becky. They seemed nice and quiet, until the class started. Then they turned into two yelling, screaming, motivating machines.

They started out by doing side-straddle-hops. This, to the lay-person, is the jumping jack. Not hard...right? The slight difference is that this group does them 4-count style. So each count is REALLY 2 side-straddle-hops.

We start off, sounding off each count. We get to 20. I'm warmed up. We get to 30. Legs are warm. We get to 50. My calves are on fire. We get to 60. I want to go home. We get to 70. What the hell did I sign up for? We get to 100. I was spent.

Welcome to DDIP.

The next 57 minutes were spent running through a gauntlet of exercises, stretches, and cardio routines. I remember Mike making us do pushups. I could do 4. Four. F. O. U. R. 4.

We were welcomed with open arms and big smiles. We left the gym with sore arms and sweaty bodies. I knew I was in for the long haul.

At the time, I was working in south Jersey, and had a long car ride to get there in the morning. I was apprehensive about doing the workout and then driving for an hour or an hour and a half in the car, but I had to try it.

I was afraid that I would fall asleep at the wheel after waking up at 4:41am (I always set my alarm for an odd number), but what I realized was quite the opposite. After the workout, I woke up even more. I was alive.

And then came the soreness....

I remember the day well...

noreply@blogger.com (Dean Landers) — Fri, 18 Mar 2011 15:16:00 +0000

My boss called me up to his office. It was performance review time for me. I had been at the job for a year after being laid off, and I was now commuting an average of 90 minutes each way to make ends meet. I had to provide for my family.

It was November, 2009.

The review process didn't go as planned. Basically, the word was, "Change your ways or leave."

In DDIP, we use the motto "Change Before You Have To."

It was already too late for me. I HAD to change. I had to figure things out. The obscene amount of driving, the stress, the exhaustion, and the job itself had put me into a bad spot with my health. I no longer weighed my usual 250 lbs. I was now pushing 290 lbs. I couldn't go up a flight of stairs without losing my breath. I was in a bad state. The worst part was that I absolutely hated working there.

A day later I left for a family vacation. I caught up with the family, who was already there, halfway through the week. I told my wife about it. She was sad for me. I was sad for myself. I knew I had to do something.

(Note to the reader: If you can do a small amount of math, you will find a gentleman who a) hates his job, b) drives 3 hours in the car every day to get to that job, c) has suffering health because of it, and d) can't bring himself to get away from it for an entire week to spend with his family)

Yes, I was in a downward spiral.

So, the holidays came and went. The new year began. I still hadn't found my solution. Work had gotten a little better because of effort. But I was still miserable.

My wife and I took a trip north one day to visit a friend of hers and run some errands. The friend worked at a restaurant. We sit down, and Shannon (the friend) mentioned to me that she's tired. My response to her statement changed my life forever.

"Why are you tired?"

She began explaining to me about the Dr. Drill Instructor Program. My eyes and ears opened up. I absorbed every word she said about workouts, comraderie, 5:30am, and a genius.

I was ready.

My wife took a little more convincing to get her to go along with it. I begged. I pleaded. I cajolled. Eventually, she gave in.

A week later, we were meeting Dr. Drill for the first time.

I instantly knew that this was MY answer.