Last week: 430 lbs.

Start (Jan. 2): 444 lbs.

Total lost: 12 lbs.

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The longer I live, the longer it takes me to do things and it’s driving me nuts. I’m not a patient person.

This week, what’s getting to me is the time it’s taking to lose weight and recover from health-related problems — recently an acute attack of gout in my left foot, a muscle strain in my lower right back and a bad cold. Like I said to myself while training for the Lake Placid Half Marathon several years ago, “One step at a time.” Most days, I’d rather leap than step, but my body can’t do that. It never could.

It’s times like these I have to remind myself that a little progress is better than no progress at all. For example, even though I gained 2 pounds this past week, 12 pounds lost in the first four weeks of the 2018 Lake Placid Diet averages out to 3 pounds a week, which is pretty good. Counting my blessings and looking at the silver lining is something I’ve had to learn over the years. Yet it still feels as though it’s taking forever.

That’s the struggle of the body and mind. Perhaps that’s why so many people stop trying to lose weight a month or two after making that New Year’s resolution; the crowds at the gym are the highest in early January, but they dwindle as the weeks progress.

It’s those times when I get sick or suffer an injury, such as the gout and the strained back muscle, when I get frustrated the most. This past weekend, after a sharp twinge in my back, I shouted, “Ahhhh. I’m so sick of being sick!” I was downstairs, and my wife was upstairs. She thought something had happened to me and told me never to scare her like that again. But I need to get it out. I needed some kind of release, and that shouting, almost as if I was shaking my fist toward the sky and swearing at God, was exactly what I needed at that painful moment.

When an injury happens, it’s like starting all over. Entry level exercise, when I can finally start moving again, begins with work around the house. Do the dishes, vacuum the floor, wash and dry the laundry, cook meals, take the garbage out. That gets the muscles moving without going overboard. Plus, there’s seating — and a bathroom — nearby.

That’s one reason why I like walking at the Olympic Center’s 1980 Rink during the winter. There are plenty of seats and bathrooms. Plus, if I forget my water, there are water fountains. Five laps around equals 1 mile. On Monday, I was finally able to get back to the Olympic Center to begin my spring training. At this point, it just means getting back on my feet and doing more walking than shopping at Price Chopper or Hannaford. I walked one lap. On Tuesday and Wednesday, my back was bothering me too much, so I didn’t walk. But the next time I get to the Olympic Center, I’ll walk two laps, then three and four before reaching a mile.

One step at a time.

It’s times like this, when I’m starting all over and hurting as I go, that I do best when I’m walking alone. This is a personal struggle, a painful one, and I know nobody else can do it for me. Only I can make this happen. When I feel better, I’ll start asking others to walk with me, but right now it’s a personal journey, a solo trek.

As long as I’m progressing, I feel as though there is hope that I will one day walk another Lake Placid Half Marathon. At this point, I feel as though I’m asking myself to walk to the moon. But I’ve done this before, so I know I can do it again.