Today was another Epic Fail.
I've had a lot of those lately.
So being here in Northern California kinda sucks, overall. I miss Maine (boy do I miss Maine!) and I have had the worst homesickness you can possibly imagine. But the worst of it isn't just missing Maine, or trying to get used the California; it's this total lack of running ability I'm dealing with right now.
We joined the YMCA here and I was delighted that they just transferred our membership from the Biddeford Y, rather than making us pay the $60 membership fee all over again. I figured I could easily regain my fitness, with some focused effort.
The first couple days went well. I took baby Kara, and she happily played in the childcare area while I did a Yoga and Pilates class for an hour. That was tough. I did the poses all right, and only fell over once (yep!) when I realized my hand was in the wrong position and tried to put it in the right one without standing up first. Bad move. Fail! (THUNK!) The teacher laughed and said that her theory is that if you don't fall over, you're not trying hard enough. I like her! It was a good class and I was proud of myself for doing so well.
That evening, I started to tighten up. I took some advil, then at 11 I took more.
The next morning, by body launched an all-out revolt. EVERY muscle was SCREAMING at me. "Stupid! Stupid! Stooopid!! See what you did? What were you thinking??"
Even raising my arms to get a glass from the cupboard was painful. And walking! Or bending! Or basically even moving!
Good lord.
It took me Friday, Saturday, Sunday AND Monday to get back to normal. Wow.
Just in time for Tuesday's class.
I was delighted on Tuesday that I did OK again. Not as well as the first time...I think my muscles were still in open revolt and didn't want to put themselves through the contortions I was attempting. But I managed.
Afterwards, Kara and I did a "baby gymnastics class" and she enjoyed it, despite putting on the brakes and saying "Nooo!" when I first took her to childcare that morning. I thought we were home free.
Then Wednesday comes along. I tried to take Karalyn in, and she had a meltdown. I really think it was partially my fault. Babycenter.com sent me this dumb article about "separation anxiety" and "terrible twos" and suggested you NEVER "sneak" out when you leave your child. That saying bye-bye will teach her that I will always come back.
Well duh. I've done "bye-bye" ever since she was little. But this time? Not so good. I should have just sneaked out and let them distract her. But Nooooo, I had to push it and do the bye-bye thing.
She melted down, but they were busy distracting her when I left for the treadmills. I had decided that this day, I would run a 5K without stopping. I was steaming along at a pathetic 11 min/mile pace (totally slow!) and suddenly, when I was at 2.2 miles and doing OK, I hear my name on the intercom...interspersed with the sounds of my daughter crying in the background.
Oh geez.
So much for running. Insomnia that night kept me from sleeping, so Thursday I didn't even take Kent to school so I could have the car. No YMCA for me that day!
That brings us to today. Another bout of insomnia had me only sleeping 5 hours, but I managed to get up to take Kent to work so I could have the car, and by 9:30 we were at the Y. She again refused to go in, but this time I distracted her and ran for the door when she wasn't looking.
25 minutes later: "Will Karina please come to childcare?!"
And it was a PATHETIC 25 minutes. I only managed 1.7 miles; some of that was walking! I couldn't even maintain my sad little 11 min/mile pace, so I did "sprints" of 9 1/2 min/mile for about a tenth of a mile or two, then walked. I cannot believe I used to do 2 miles at 10 min/mile, eight sprints at a 5 1/2 min/mile pace (interspersed with jogging 11 min/mile), then two more miles at 10 min/mile!
WHERE has my fitness gone? A couple minutes at 9 1/2 minute/miles?? Holy cow!
So now I'm in this new world. It's called Frustrationland, and I'm BOUND and DETERMINED not to let it get to me.
You might think that I've been here before. Well, I haven't. Remember, 17 years as a morbidly obese woman weighing in at 259 pounds meant that I didn't really have any fitness to speak of. I certainly couldn't run a mile, or even a half for that matter. So every new level was a new PR; a personal record, a "best" so to speak. So each fitness gain was greater than the one before. And every new gain left me feeling better and better, higher and higher.
Now I'm in Frustrationland, and the view is very different. I run a couple miles one day, and the next time I run 2.2 miles. Instead of being pleased at the gain, I'm annoyed that I can ONLY run that far. Running 10 minute miles used to be my "average" pace; now it's my sprints and I can only maintain it for a few minutes at a time. Gone are my 6-8 milers at that pace. I couldn't even complete a 4-mile race right now without stopping. Last Thanksgiving, I did four miles at a super easy 10 minute/mile pace because my leg was hurting!
So Frustrationland is a new and ugly place to live. It's almost as bad as Northern California. 20 "easy" miles in four hours looks so far away from where I am right now, I can't imagine how long it's going to take me to get BACK to that level of fitness.
After leaving the Y with a teary baby in hand, I went straight to my local FleetFeet store and begged for their help. I explained that I don't need stuff; I need resources. They gave me a handful of flyers, but more importantly I got on an email list and I'll be joining a Training Program to do a Thanksgiving 10K race. I explained my predicament, and they said the training will be a Galloway-style run/walk program. Looking over the signup sheet, I can see there are three levels:
1) Run/Walkers
2) Runners, 11-13 min/mile pace group
3) Runners, under 11 min/mile pace group
Peeking through the curtains of Frustrationland, I note that while once I would have checked off level 3 without hesitation, now I can't even be sure I would manage 2. I may have to do 1.
SO! At least I have a goal and a plan in hand. Starting next Saturday, Sept. 13, I will be meeting with a group of people and starting from scratch. I will have to go back to run/walk, and become a newbie all over again. I did this once; I can do it again. From June until September I went from a walk/slight jogger to a half marathoner. I am sure I can manage a triathlon by next spring, and maybe that marathon will be in sight for next year.
I can do this. I will do this. I canNOT let Frustration get me down.
Now if only Karalyn will cooperate and leave the separation anxiety behind...until she does, at least I have my training group, and maybe I'll have to get back to dawn running. It's worth it. Now that I know what fitness and health--and the conspicuous lack of both--feels like, I never want to lose either of them again.
"Success doesn't come to you...you go to it." - Marva Collins
____________________________________________________________________________
Disclaimer: I'm not a doctor. However, I am a teacher certified in both California and Maine to teach science curriculum, including the human body (and health/nutrition) to kids in grades K-8. This blog is my attempt to wade through the current thinking and my own journey to fitness and health, and to present it in a way that makes sense to everyone. As a woman who is successfully recovering from obesity, I feel it's even more important to help others understand what I did to lose the weight; what worked, what didn't, and what the struggle has been like as I went from morbid obesity to fitness. It doesn't mean that I have all the answers, however. If you want to lose weight or gain fitness and health, by all means, read my blog--I think I can provide some help and clarity. BUT, please know that I am NOT a medical expert, and you should most definitely consult with your own doctor or family physician before undertaking any exercise and/or weight loss efforts yourself. Weight loss and fitness are personal journeys. I'm making mine visible to the world, but each of us has to take our own steps with our own doctor's guidance; please make sure you check in with yours before you try to do anything I have done. Good luck, and congratulations for taking that first step!
Showing posts with label Team in Training. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Team in Training. Show all posts
Friday, September 5, 2008
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Transitioning from Jogger to Runner
"You need to be flexible with your workouts. Some days you just don't have it, but some days you will shock yourself with your strength." -- Dotsie Cowden, U.S. National Cycling Team member
____________________________________________________________________
Dianne Jones (blue and black) and
me (in purple), running at Long
Sands Beach during the inaugural
women's only Maine Coast
Half Marathon, Sept. 23, 2007.
I have never considered myself a runner. Even when, as a teenager, I would take my walkman out for long runs around San Francisco when in town visiting my sister, I would call it "jogging". It didn't matter if I was "jogging" for three hours--I was still only jogging, because I did it slowly, and I took walk breaks.
Running, on the other hand, was something that people did when they were (a) going really fast, or (b) going really long distances without stopping.
This past Sunday, I passed the point where I can now feel comfortable calling myself a runner.
How did that happen, you ask?
Simple. I ran my first-ever half marathon.
You may recall from an earlier blog that I signed up for the inaugural Maine Coast (women's only) Half Marathon in York, Maine, to be held on September 23. When I "jogged" the York Hospital 5K in June, there was a postcard on my car window advertising this race. Instead of tossing it, I held onto it--because of two little words:
"Walkers welcome!"
Well heck. I could WALK 13 miles, I knew that I could do that. Up to this point I'd only ever walked 7 at a time, but I figured from June to September I should have been able to improve to walking 13. So I held onto the postcard.
After spending the summer in Eureka, I was comfortable jogging a couple miles, so I decided to sign up for the half marathon. I was going to sign up as a walker, but there was a proviso that said, "If you plan to jog any part of this course, you must sign up as a runner." So I did, despite being scared to death of that term.
Over the past two months, though, I improved to the point where I could jog 7 miles straight, nonstop. That was a huge breakthrough, and I was so excited to try out my "new legs" in the half marathon last Sunday.
The experience was incredible. I finally splurged and got myself a real "cool-max" tank top to wear (me? in a tank top?)--no more hot cotton. I also got some cool-max shorts at Target, on sale yet. So the morning of the race, when I lined up, I felt good. There is something to be said for dressing the part. I felt like such a real runner!
My only concern was that the race was USA Track & Field sanctioned, which means the rule is no iPods. That was a big concern because I run best when I have music. I need the distraction. Otherwise I obsess about my legs, my breathing, my side (I always get a cramp), how far I have gone, and so forth. The music takes me out of that and allows me to just go, without all the internal dialogue messing me up. Thankfully, I saw lots of other women with iPods, and nobody seemed to be policing it, so I decided to wear mine after all.
The walkers set out first at 8:30 a.m. I was nervous about this. I had visions of being the last one in--not that it would be disgraceful, as long as I finished. I just didn't want to never be able to catch any walkers. I kept trying to figure out how far I'd have to run to pass at least one walker. It was my own little "pride" thing that I still need to get out of my system, I guess.
At 9:00, we lined up on the course, and I positioned myself about 2/3 of the way back in the pack. There were so many women! I saw all shapes, sizes, colors, fitness levels, some with iPods, some without, lots of women in cool max clothing and lots and lots of women in cotton. I was pleased that I'd run with my Moms on the Run group all this time, because at least I knew the cotton wouldn't hold me back today.
When the race started, we all moved forward at a walk. There was a "chip timer" on my shoelace that would activate when I crossed the start, thereby entering my official start time, so I wasn't too worried. I had queued up my iPod to start with Keith Urban's "Days Go By", one of my favorite songs, but somehow messed it up. It was a happy coincidence, though, because when I hit the "play" button, what I got instead was Rascal Flatts' "Life is a Highway".
If you have seen the Disney/Pixar movie "Cars", you will recognize the song as the one that plays when Mack the truck drives Lightning McQueen on an all night drive to get to California for the final race to determine the winner of the Piston Cup. That scene is one of my favorites of the whole movie, because although the scene is totally computer-generated, it accurately reflects what it's like to travel long distances out on the open road.
This made it the PERFECT song choice! It started just as I crossed the Start line, and the appropriateness actually brought me to tears!
I started out at what felt like an easy pace, and watched all these women run past me. That was a bit demoralizing, but I kept thinking, so long as I'm ahead of SOMEONE, that's OK! (That's my "pride" thing talking.) I finally settled into a field of women that seemed to be going my pace.
Suddenly, a women came up alongside me, and somehow we got to talking. Her name was Dianne Jones, and she's from New Jersey. Then another lady joined us. Her name is Jen Nachbur, and she's from Vermont.
I shut off my iPod as the the three of us started talking as we were running together. Jen was running for Team in Training, and so she had scheduled walk breaks that she took, so now and again it was just Dianne and me. Yet Jen kept catching up to us, despite the fact that Dianne and I just ran without stopping.
Dianne was a bit concerned about our pace. We were on an 11-minute-mile pace, which is a bit faster than she (or I) wanted to go. But I couldn't pull up, because I was comfortable.
That still strikes me--I was comfortable running!
Another amazing thing is that I started passing people. The same women who had passed me were now walking, and I was still running...and zipping past them. I was so beyond psyched. It was such a revelation--I could run well enough to keep my pace and pass other people who had started faster than me.
Dianne and me, joking with the photographer
That was an amazing feeling. I look back now, a few days past the run, and I remember it more with a sense of gliding than pounding. I felt so strong when I was running (and passing others); I felt like I could accomplish anything. I amazed myself at my strength.
During one point in the run, one race official who was stopping traffic started laughing. He told us, "Only women could run a half marathon and still talk all the way through it!" We laughed also and I yelled back, "We're multi-talented!"
About mile six, Dianne gave me a sports jelly bean, which helped because I was getting hungry. My stomach actually growled! I drank some Accelerade when it was offered at mile 4, and then by mile 8, I was getting really hungry. Once I passed the 7 mile mark, I told Dianne and Jen, "Every single step I take now is a personal best!" I had never run that far without stopping before.
At mile 8, I was all ready for some Accelerade...but to my surprise and delight, they were also passing out something called Clif Shot Bloks, which are thick 10-gram gummy squares of carbohydrate in the form of organic brown rice syrup mixed with electrolytes. They were handing out packets of a flavor called "Margarita with salt", but I didn't even look at that. I just knew I needed some fuel, and I needed it NOW.
After drinking some Accelerade and water, I ripped open the package (while still running) and ate one of the Shot Bloks.
Oh my. It was simultaneously the worst thing I have ever tasted, and the best thing I have ever tasted.
I was half expecting some kind of sticky-sweet stuff like the "GU" and gels many runners prefer. Instead I got a shot of margarita (yum!) with a lot of salt.
How smart is the Clif company to make margarita with salt? It turns out that when you run and sweat a lot, of course you lose salt. That means as you drink water, you lose your electrolyte balance--hence the need for sports drinks like Gatorade and Accelerade. By the 8 mile mark, I must have been pretty salt-depleted, because I was already talking about walking.
Two of the Shot Bloks fixed me right up, and I was good to go. I ate two more of them over the next two miles, then just held the package in my right hand--a good idea because it stopped me from clenching my fist, which also halted any cramps in their tracks.
I later forgot all about the Shot Bloks, unfortunately, and after mile ten I dropped to a walk for one minute. I wish I'd thought to try a Shot Blok first, but the walk break was good for me. Diane kept going, but Jen was near me, so after my one-minute walk break, I started running again. I knew the last three miles would be my toughest, despite it "only being a 5K" at this point, so I used my iPod to get my groove back. That helped a lot--I ran along, singing and smiling, waving at people and shouting "THANK YOU!" to any race officials I saw.
Over the last three miles, I took a total of four one-minute walk breaks. Jen and I stayed pretty even, but Dianne was long gone.
When we rounded the last corner to take us into the final stretch, Jen and I were side-by-side. I saw Kent and the girls, waving at me as I ran past, and then I yelled to Jen, "Shall we kick it?" She said yes, and we started to SPRINT. We finished the race that way--sprinting to the end.
Jen Nachbur and me in our final sprint
I'd done it! I finished my first half-marathon, running most of the time, and my final time was 2 hours, 36 minutes and 56 seconds, which put me in at an "11 minute, 59 second per mile" pace. Another personal best.
Afterwards, we all got medals, and I immediately went to find food and stretch. While I felt great during the run, as soon as I stopped, things started to cramp up. My stomach (which my Dad later said was my diaphragm) cramped, my legs started to ache, and I had to stretch, drink, stretch, eat, stretch, stretch, and stretch some more. I thanked Jen for keeping me motivated, and I found Dianne and thanked her for not letting me stop at 8 miles (I wanted to). Both of those women were SO key in getting me through as far and as well as I did, and I will forever be grateful to them both.
The rest of the day was spent resting, eating, and smiling. I later took a 30 minute walk to help stretch my legs, and Kent presented me with a gift--a $100 bill to buy a new iPod shuffle, one of the little ones, so I wouldn't have it banging against me as I run, and I won't have the headphone cords yanked out by weight machines or the jogging stroller any longer, because it won't be hanging down the front of me. I was shocked and really thrilled, and have already loaded it up.
The color? Bright pink of course!
That day will forever be etched on my mind as a highlight of my life. It was a day I did something I swore I could never do--run over ten miles non-stop, completing a half marathon in just over 2 1/2 hours. It has inspired me as nothing else in my life ever has--except becoming a mother.
I told both Dianne and Jen about my plans to try the Honolulu Marathon. They were both absolutely certain I could, and they both encouraged me to go for it. They said the time I have until that marathon (15 months) will give me plenty of time to train properly.
They also said if I could do this, then I could definitely do a marathon.
First, however, I still have one other little matter to attend to:
The Cape Elizabeth Land Trust Challenge Triathlon. That's next Sunday.
One goal realized (half marathon); one more to go (triathlon); one new one to train for (full marathon).
I'm gonna be one busy lady.
____________________________________________________________________________
Disclaimer: Look, I'm not a doctor. However, I am a teacher certified in both California and Maine to teach science curriculum, including the human body (and health/nutrition) to kids in grades K-8. This blog is my attempt to wade through the current thinking on weight loss, and to present it in a way that makes sense to everyone. As a woman who is successfully recovering from obesity herself, I feel it's even more important to help others understand what I did to lose the weight; what worked, what didn't, and what the struggle has been like as I went from morbid obesity to fitness. It doesn't mean that I have all the answers, however. If you want to lose weight, by all means, read my blog--I think I can provide some help and clarity. BUT, please know that I am NOT a medical expert, and you should most definitely consult with your own doctor or family physician before undertaking any weight loss efforts yourself. Weight loss is a personal journey. I'm making mine visible to the world, but each of us has to take our own steps with our own doctor's guidance; please make sure you check in with yours before you try to do anything I have done. Good luck and God bless!
____________________________________________________________________
Dianne Jones (blue and black) and
me (in purple), running at Long
Sands Beach during the inaugural
women's only Maine Coast
Half Marathon, Sept. 23, 2007.
I have never considered myself a runner. Even when, as a teenager, I would take my walkman out for long runs around San Francisco when in town visiting my sister, I would call it "jogging". It didn't matter if I was "jogging" for three hours--I was still only jogging, because I did it slowly, and I took walk breaks.
Running, on the other hand, was something that people did when they were (a) going really fast, or (b) going really long distances without stopping.
This past Sunday, I passed the point where I can now feel comfortable calling myself a runner.
How did that happen, you ask?
Simple. I ran my first-ever half marathon.
You may recall from an earlier blog that I signed up for the inaugural Maine Coast (women's only) Half Marathon in York, Maine, to be held on September 23. When I "jogged" the York Hospital 5K in June, there was a postcard on my car window advertising this race. Instead of tossing it, I held onto it--because of two little words:
"Walkers welcome!"
Well heck. I could WALK 13 miles, I knew that I could do that. Up to this point I'd only ever walked 7 at a time, but I figured from June to September I should have been able to improve to walking 13. So I held onto the postcard.
After spending the summer in Eureka, I was comfortable jogging a couple miles, so I decided to sign up for the half marathon. I was going to sign up as a walker, but there was a proviso that said, "If you plan to jog any part of this course, you must sign up as a runner." So I did, despite being scared to death of that term.
Over the past two months, though, I improved to the point where I could jog 7 miles straight, nonstop. That was a huge breakthrough, and I was so excited to try out my "new legs" in the half marathon last Sunday.
The experience was incredible. I finally splurged and got myself a real "cool-max" tank top to wear (me? in a tank top?)--no more hot cotton. I also got some cool-max shorts at Target, on sale yet. So the morning of the race, when I lined up, I felt good. There is something to be said for dressing the part. I felt like such a real runner!
My only concern was that the race was USA Track & Field sanctioned, which means the rule is no iPods. That was a big concern because I run best when I have music. I need the distraction. Otherwise I obsess about my legs, my breathing, my side (I always get a cramp), how far I have gone, and so forth. The music takes me out of that and allows me to just go, without all the internal dialogue messing me up. Thankfully, I saw lots of other women with iPods, and nobody seemed to be policing it, so I decided to wear mine after all.
The walkers set out first at 8:30 a.m. I was nervous about this. I had visions of being the last one in--not that it would be disgraceful, as long as I finished. I just didn't want to never be able to catch any walkers. I kept trying to figure out how far I'd have to run to pass at least one walker. It was my own little "pride" thing that I still need to get out of my system, I guess.
At 9:00, we lined up on the course, and I positioned myself about 2/3 of the way back in the pack. There were so many women! I saw all shapes, sizes, colors, fitness levels, some with iPods, some without, lots of women in cool max clothing and lots and lots of women in cotton. I was pleased that I'd run with my Moms on the Run group all this time, because at least I knew the cotton wouldn't hold me back today.
When the race started, we all moved forward at a walk. There was a "chip timer" on my shoelace that would activate when I crossed the start, thereby entering my official start time, so I wasn't too worried. I had queued up my iPod to start with Keith Urban's "Days Go By", one of my favorite songs, but somehow messed it up. It was a happy coincidence, though, because when I hit the "play" button, what I got instead was Rascal Flatts' "Life is a Highway".
If you have seen the Disney/Pixar movie "Cars", you will recognize the song as the one that plays when Mack the truck drives Lightning McQueen on an all night drive to get to California for the final race to determine the winner of the Piston Cup. That scene is one of my favorites of the whole movie, because although the scene is totally computer-generated, it accurately reflects what it's like to travel long distances out on the open road.
This made it the PERFECT song choice! It started just as I crossed the Start line, and the appropriateness actually brought me to tears!
I started out at what felt like an easy pace, and watched all these women run past me. That was a bit demoralizing, but I kept thinking, so long as I'm ahead of SOMEONE, that's OK! (That's my "pride" thing talking.) I finally settled into a field of women that seemed to be going my pace.
Suddenly, a women came up alongside me, and somehow we got to talking. Her name was Dianne Jones, and she's from New Jersey. Then another lady joined us. Her name is Jen Nachbur, and she's from Vermont.
I shut off my iPod as the the three of us started talking as we were running together. Jen was running for Team in Training, and so she had scheduled walk breaks that she took, so now and again it was just Dianne and me. Yet Jen kept catching up to us, despite the fact that Dianne and I just ran without stopping.
Dianne was a bit concerned about our pace. We were on an 11-minute-mile pace, which is a bit faster than she (or I) wanted to go. But I couldn't pull up, because I was comfortable.
That still strikes me--I was comfortable running!
Another amazing thing is that I started passing people. The same women who had passed me were now walking, and I was still running...and zipping past them. I was so beyond psyched. It was such a revelation--I could run well enough to keep my pace and pass other people who had started faster than me.
Dianne and me, joking with the photographer
That was an amazing feeling. I look back now, a few days past the run, and I remember it more with a sense of gliding than pounding. I felt so strong when I was running (and passing others); I felt like I could accomplish anything. I amazed myself at my strength.
During one point in the run, one race official who was stopping traffic started laughing. He told us, "Only women could run a half marathon and still talk all the way through it!" We laughed also and I yelled back, "We're multi-talented!"
About mile six, Dianne gave me a sports jelly bean, which helped because I was getting hungry. My stomach actually growled! I drank some Accelerade when it was offered at mile 4, and then by mile 8, I was getting really hungry. Once I passed the 7 mile mark, I told Dianne and Jen, "Every single step I take now is a personal best!" I had never run that far without stopping before.
At mile 8, I was all ready for some Accelerade...but to my surprise and delight, they were also passing out something called Clif Shot Bloks, which are thick 10-gram gummy squares of carbohydrate in the form of organic brown rice syrup mixed with electrolytes. They were handing out packets of a flavor called "Margarita with salt", but I didn't even look at that. I just knew I needed some fuel, and I needed it NOW.
After drinking some Accelerade and water, I ripped open the package (while still running) and ate one of the Shot Bloks.
Oh my. It was simultaneously the worst thing I have ever tasted, and the best thing I have ever tasted.
I was half expecting some kind of sticky-sweet stuff like the "GU" and gels many runners prefer. Instead I got a shot of margarita (yum!) with a lot of salt.
How smart is the Clif company to make margarita with salt? It turns out that when you run and sweat a lot, of course you lose salt. That means as you drink water, you lose your electrolyte balance--hence the need for sports drinks like Gatorade and Accelerade. By the 8 mile mark, I must have been pretty salt-depleted, because I was already talking about walking.
Two of the Shot Bloks fixed me right up, and I was good to go. I ate two more of them over the next two miles, then just held the package in my right hand--a good idea because it stopped me from clenching my fist, which also halted any cramps in their tracks.
I later forgot all about the Shot Bloks, unfortunately, and after mile ten I dropped to a walk for one minute. I wish I'd thought to try a Shot Blok first, but the walk break was good for me. Diane kept going, but Jen was near me, so after my one-minute walk break, I started running again. I knew the last three miles would be my toughest, despite it "only being a 5K" at this point, so I used my iPod to get my groove back. That helped a lot--I ran along, singing and smiling, waving at people and shouting "THANK YOU!" to any race officials I saw.
Over the last three miles, I took a total of four one-minute walk breaks. Jen and I stayed pretty even, but Dianne was long gone.
When we rounded the last corner to take us into the final stretch, Jen and I were side-by-side. I saw Kent and the girls, waving at me as I ran past, and then I yelled to Jen, "Shall we kick it?" She said yes, and we started to SPRINT. We finished the race that way--sprinting to the end.
Jen Nachbur and me in our final sprint
Afterwards, we all got medals, and I immediately went to find food and stretch. While I felt great during the run, as soon as I stopped, things started to cramp up. My stomach (which my Dad later said was my diaphragm) cramped, my legs started to ache, and I had to stretch, drink, stretch, eat, stretch, stretch, and stretch some more. I thanked Jen for keeping me motivated, and I found Dianne and thanked her for not letting me stop at 8 miles (I wanted to). Both of those women were SO key in getting me through as far and as well as I did, and I will forever be grateful to them both.
The rest of the day was spent resting, eating, and smiling. I later took a 30 minute walk to help stretch my legs, and Kent presented me with a gift--a $100 bill to buy a new iPod shuffle, one of the little ones, so I wouldn't have it banging against me as I run, and I won't have the headphone cords yanked out by weight machines or the jogging stroller any longer, because it won't be hanging down the front of me. I was shocked and really thrilled, and have already loaded it up.
The color? Bright pink of course!
That day will forever be etched on my mind as a highlight of my life. It was a day I did something I swore I could never do--run over ten miles non-stop, completing a half marathon in just over 2 1/2 hours. It has inspired me as nothing else in my life ever has--except becoming a mother.
I told both Dianne and Jen about my plans to try the Honolulu Marathon. They were both absolutely certain I could, and they both encouraged me to go for it. They said the time I have until that marathon (15 months) will give me plenty of time to train properly.
They also said if I could do this, then I could definitely do a marathon.
First, however, I still have one other little matter to attend to:
The Cape Elizabeth Land Trust Challenge Triathlon. That's next Sunday.
One goal realized (half marathon); one more to go (triathlon); one new one to train for (full marathon).
I'm gonna be one busy lady.
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Disclaimer: Look, I'm not a doctor. However, I am a teacher certified in both California and Maine to teach science curriculum, including the human body (and health/nutrition) to kids in grades K-8. This blog is my attempt to wade through the current thinking on weight loss, and to present it in a way that makes sense to everyone. As a woman who is successfully recovering from obesity herself, I feel it's even more important to help others understand what I did to lose the weight; what worked, what didn't, and what the struggle has been like as I went from morbid obesity to fitness. It doesn't mean that I have all the answers, however. If you want to lose weight, by all means, read my blog--I think I can provide some help and clarity. BUT, please know that I am NOT a medical expert, and you should most definitely consult with your own doctor or family physician before undertaking any weight loss efforts yourself. Weight loss is a personal journey. I'm making mine visible to the world, but each of us has to take our own steps with our own doctor's guidance; please make sure you check in with yours before you try to do anything I have done. Good luck and God bless!
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