It's been a hideous three months.
Our friend Mark passed away at the end of March; at that time, I was up to running four miles at a shot and feeling pretty good about it. But then he died and I fell apart, along with my husband.
Needless to say, I haven't run much at all since then. A couple miles here and there, but I'm all messed up inside. My days are swapped with my nights; I get all motivated and charged up at 1:30 in the morning (well, 1:42 a.m. is what it is right now), but then in the morning I can't move. Worse yet, I caught Kent's and Sylvia's cold, or whatever it was, that causes crushing headaches. I've been battling that for almost a week now.
So right now, at 1:42...no, 1:43... a.m., I'm fired up and ready to run. In seven hours, I'll just want to sleep, and my head will be exploding.
That is, if the pattern follows that of the past week.
What to do, what to do?
I couldn't sleep--again--so I got up and looked online for triathlons. Nothing like signing up for a race to get you charged.
I found one in Boise in August. I emailed Pam, and asked if she wants to do it with me. If she says yes, I'm signing up. Then I have to start getting serious.
Just...the past few months have been difficult. Kent was pinkslipped, and we didn't know if he'd be rehired. It wasn't until this past week, after school was already out, that we found out that his job was saved, and he will be rehired next year. However, then he'll be pinkslipped again. His district in Maine wants him back, though, so we'll probably return to Maine--for good this time--in July of 2010.
Thank goodness. I miss Maine, and my house. I can't wait to go back to it.
Plus of course Kent's depression over Mark's death has been difficult for everyone. I didn't know how to help; truthfully, there's not much I can do. He'll have to get through this somehow. I can't fix it for him. You aren't essentially brothers with someone for 33 years and then get over that loss overnight. As a friend said recently, "Grief isn't linear." Some days he's fine; others, he falls apart. I'm sort of that way too. It's been hard to want to move. Sometimes I simply want to watch TV or play on Facebook or read until I grow so still, moss creeps along and covers me up.
So. Motivation. What I miss is my own treadmill. It's an excuse--but I do miss that ready place to run. Sometimes it's hard to get out the door. I want to, but then I don't. And I find excuses, and the next thing I know...I'm sleeping in, or my headache plants me in one place.
But I remember the running, the feeling of strength, feeling like I had all the oxygen in the world when I was running along and felt like I was flying. No shortness of breath, no tightness in the chest...just strength and breath and life.
And I so miss that.
So this is supposed to be a blog about how I "fixed" myself, and went from obese to athlete. Except it has turned out to be a bit of a treatise on how a crappy life situation can sideline you instead. And I'm still struggling with that.
I know I can fix this. I just need to get moving and do the hard work I need to do to get back to my fit self.
The first steps: sign up for a triathlon. Hopefully with Pam. Also, sign up with the local running shop's 10K training program. That starts on Tuesday. I have to do something; if I'm forced to go, beause I paid money and people are expecting me, I'll do it. And I know myself. Once I get started, I won't be content with a little run here and there. I'll want to improve my stamina. After all, the ultimate goal is the Honolulu Marathon this December.
Actually, that's not true. The Honolulu Marathon is A GOAL. The ultimate goal is my fit, healthy, happy self. Back in Maine. I don't want to go back as I am; I want to go back as I was.
Running is the key. It just takes the first step.
Then again, all the greatest journeys in life always start with that first step.
As John Bingham would say, "Waddle on, my friends." I guess I'll be doing that literally, starting this week! :)
Go, Me!!!
Showing posts with label goals. Show all posts
Showing posts with label goals. Show all posts
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Monday, March 30, 2009
The scale said WHAT? (GAH!)
Oh man oh man oh man.
Everything associated with the move to California has been a mess. My weight is just one more part of it.
I gained 20 pounds in the move, and then stopped running and gained 15 more since December.
So now I'm flirting with the edge of 200, and feeling really annoyed about it.
However, I got back on track. I got a "fitbook", which I love, as it helps me plan and keep track of my exercise and nutrition (without freaking about calories), and I've been running 3 times per week plus doing strength training once or twice a week.
I lost five pounds the first week.
I gained two the next.
And today? The scale is telling me I gained three more. Along with 2% body fat!
How is this possible?? How can a person gain two percent body fat in three days--since Friday, when last I weighed myself??
Welcome back to Frustrationland!! AGAIN!
(Sigh!)
I don't understand this. I wish I hadn't bought one of those fancy scales that gives you the body fat percentage. It's just confusing me. I might give it away and get a cheapo plain scale.
I used to have a big, glass scale we got at Brookstone, and it was simply a digital scale. But it was so huge and heavy, and you couldn't tuck it away anywhere, so I gave it away when we moved. Oh, what I wouldn't give to have it back. I tracked in the 0.1 range for weight, and as I said--it didn't do the body fat thing.
Anyway, it really makes me mad more than anything. I didn't lose 100 pounds only to regain 35 of it.
Again, not that, in the grand scheme of things, it's such a huge deal. At a size 12, I'm still way more healthy than I was at a size 20. And being able to run a 5K at an 11 minute per mile pace is pretty darn awesome too. I'm sure my cholesterol and triglycerides are doing fine, they always are when I eat lots of salmon and walnuts and all that good stuff, which I am right now. In fact, I'm actually eating disgustingly healthfully, a lot of organic, very little sugar (OK I had two...three!...cookies yesterday), and lots of "real" food. I only shop the "perimeter" of the store, where all the fresh stuff is, and rarely venture into the aisles unless I need cereal for Kent and the kids.
What I'm not doing is eating a lot of veggies, but the fitbook has a checkoff for veggies so that's helping me there.
Again, as I said, in the grand scheme of things, I'm a lot healthier than I was. I'm more fit, more active, stronger, and more capable than I was for 15 years.
However, I'm not where I was last June, and right now that's killing me. I liked being that fit; I liked being able to run 20 miles. And I liked feeling slim and small, although I must admit, my face got a little too thin. I was looking a little haggard there. Or was that the two solid weeks of packing that did it? (wink!)
I think right now what's bothering me the most is that I don't feel small like I did before. I liked that feeling. Like Kent and I weren't the same size--and frankly, for a while, we were. And right now, with my clothes the wrong size, even if they're mediums and larges (and not extra-large or 1x or 2x), I still don't feel small.
So back to the drawing board. I just finished reading a book called Real Food, by Nina Planck, and she wrote a lot of interesting things about eating real eggs and real milk and even butter, not that I want to slather all my food in a pound of butter, but certainly it's better than hydrogenated margarine.
I will keep on the pace I'm on--strength training, running, and try to add walks in where I'm not doing either. And I'm tracking my food now, so I'll be better about getting those veggies and fruits in. That's something that, frankly, I've been horrible at lately, and I know that I was eating way more of them when I was lighter. And I need to re-read YOU: On a Diet, by Dr. Oz. I did that before and it helped me to see it was all physiological.
And right now, when the scale is telling me I gained 3 pounds and 2% body fat in one weekend, I need all the help I can get to remember it's NOT the Diet Gods out to get me.
I just gotta get back in the zone of want-power; I can do this. I did it before. I will do it again.
Have fun and enjoy health!
Everything associated with the move to California has been a mess. My weight is just one more part of it.
I gained 20 pounds in the move, and then stopped running and gained 15 more since December.
So now I'm flirting with the edge of 200, and feeling really annoyed about it.
However, I got back on track. I got a "fitbook", which I love, as it helps me plan and keep track of my exercise and nutrition (without freaking about calories), and I've been running 3 times per week plus doing strength training once or twice a week.
I lost five pounds the first week.
I gained two the next.
And today? The scale is telling me I gained three more. Along with 2% body fat!
How is this possible?? How can a person gain two percent body fat in three days--since Friday, when last I weighed myself??
Welcome back to Frustrationland!! AGAIN!
(Sigh!)
I don't understand this. I wish I hadn't bought one of those fancy scales that gives you the body fat percentage. It's just confusing me. I might give it away and get a cheapo plain scale.
I used to have a big, glass scale we got at Brookstone, and it was simply a digital scale. But it was so huge and heavy, and you couldn't tuck it away anywhere, so I gave it away when we moved. Oh, what I wouldn't give to have it back. I tracked in the 0.1 range for weight, and as I said--it didn't do the body fat thing.
Anyway, it really makes me mad more than anything. I didn't lose 100 pounds only to regain 35 of it.
Again, not that, in the grand scheme of things, it's such a huge deal. At a size 12, I'm still way more healthy than I was at a size 20. And being able to run a 5K at an 11 minute per mile pace is pretty darn awesome too. I'm sure my cholesterol and triglycerides are doing fine, they always are when I eat lots of salmon and walnuts and all that good stuff, which I am right now. In fact, I'm actually eating disgustingly healthfully, a lot of organic, very little sugar (OK I had two...three!...cookies yesterday), and lots of "real" food. I only shop the "perimeter" of the store, where all the fresh stuff is, and rarely venture into the aisles unless I need cereal for Kent and the kids.
What I'm not doing is eating a lot of veggies, but the fitbook has a checkoff for veggies so that's helping me there.
Again, as I said, in the grand scheme of things, I'm a lot healthier than I was. I'm more fit, more active, stronger, and more capable than I was for 15 years.
However, I'm not where I was last June, and right now that's killing me. I liked being that fit; I liked being able to run 20 miles. And I liked feeling slim and small, although I must admit, my face got a little too thin. I was looking a little haggard there. Or was that the two solid weeks of packing that did it? (wink!)
I think right now what's bothering me the most is that I don't feel small like I did before. I liked that feeling. Like Kent and I weren't the same size--and frankly, for a while, we were. And right now, with my clothes the wrong size, even if they're mediums and larges (and not extra-large or 1x or 2x), I still don't feel small.
So back to the drawing board. I just finished reading a book called Real Food, by Nina Planck, and she wrote a lot of interesting things about eating real eggs and real milk and even butter, not that I want to slather all my food in a pound of butter, but certainly it's better than hydrogenated margarine.
I will keep on the pace I'm on--strength training, running, and try to add walks in where I'm not doing either. And I'm tracking my food now, so I'll be better about getting those veggies and fruits in. That's something that, frankly, I've been horrible at lately, and I know that I was eating way more of them when I was lighter. And I need to re-read YOU: On a Diet, by Dr. Oz. I did that before and it helped me to see it was all physiological.
And right now, when the scale is telling me I gained 3 pounds and 2% body fat in one weekend, I need all the help I can get to remember it's NOT the Diet Gods out to get me.
I just gotta get back in the zone of want-power; I can do this. I did it before. I will do it again.
Have fun and enjoy health!
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
5Ks and other fun stuff
Well I forgot how much fun running can be!
I know, I know. That probably sounds a lot like, "Wow, I forgot how much having a root canal with no anesthesia can be!"
But it's true. When everything "clicks", running is just...joyous. I had completely forgotten that in all the chaos of the past eight months or so.
Last week, when I was into my 2nd week of my couch-to-Bay-To-Breakers-12K program that I made up for myself, I was seriously wondering if I had completely lost my mind. I have been starting slow, doing run/walk intervals. In my past running life, that meant run 2 miles, walk a minute. My new goal was to simply run for three minutes, after which I would reward myself with 30 seconds of walking.
Oh, and that run? Yeah. It was at a 5 mph pace, which is a 12-minute mile. That's my former "I'm dilly-dallying" or "I'm running 20 miles today so I'm taking it easy" pace.(Whine!)
Was it a "taking it easy pace" last week? Heck no! It was almost an all-out, do-it-or-die sprint!
That's how fast you lose your running mojo. Three months and wham, I'm back to being a beginner.
But wait? What glimmer of hope was that? I ran a 5K one day, and 4 miles two days later.
I know, I know. I had to walk 1 1/2 minutes of every darned mile, but I did it. I put in the mileage.
Fast-forward to St. Patrick's Day. Despite it being a "Baby Gymnastics" day, I didn't dare take Karalyn to the YMCA child care center. She was still too sick. So I had to wait until Kent got home, at which time I dashed off to do a quick hour on the treadmill.
See what I mean? An hour on the treadmill. And I'm treating it like a "quick hour" running.
That's how fast the running bug bites you.
So anyway, I realized that if I intended to get everyone fed and to bed on time, I really only had about 40 minutes, plus driving time, but I thought I might be able to get a 5K out of it. I started two weeks ago with 2 minute run/30 second walk intervals; last week, I went to 3 minute run/30 second walk. Naturally, this week, I went to 4 minute run/30 second walk.
I was prepared to die on that treadmill. Last week I was seriously dying, slogging through those three minutes, watching the clock, counting each 60 seconds, thinking there had to be something wrong with my watch interval timer. I scraped through by my fingernails, and worried about what this week would bring.
So I got on the treadmill, hit the button to start my 12 min/mile pace, and went at it. 4 minutes run, 30 seconds walk.
2 miles in, I'm thinking, what's going on here? I didn't get it. I wasn't nearly as winded as I had been last week. I was flying right along, barely noticing until the timer beeped that it was time to do the walk. I seriously debated running through the intervals but decided to do it the right way. But after 2 miles, I kept thinking, "This should be harder."
I was flying! It was slow, but I had that "flying" feeling back, just like I used to get on my favorite five-mile run, the Presidential Loop in Kennebunkport, Maine.
Like the running was effortless.
Light.
Fun!
So, being the glutton for punishment that I am, I upped the speed. I thought, "I should be working harder here. I'm not nearly winded enough." (I'm such a dork!) So I bumped it up to a 10 minute 56 second-per-mile pace, with 4 minutes run/30 seconds walk.
That felt a little tougher, but even that wasn't quite enough. I did another mile, and thought, for the last tenth, I'll just bump it up to a ten-minute-per-mile pace for the last tenth.
My vanity got the best of me; after a tenth of a mile, I thought, "That was it?" and ran another tenth.
My Personal St. Patrick's Day 5K turned into a 5K-Plus-1/10th-mile run!
Time? 38:56.
No, it was definitely not blazingly fast, but better than, oh, say, three weeks ago when I wasn't running AT ALL.
But in the meantime, I discovered this visceral joy in running. It was so easy and effortless that I was watching Oprah and not even noticing the time go by. I was tempted to say that Oprah was just too distracting--and yes, medical mistakes CAN be quite distracting--but nothing is THAT distracting when you're having a hard run.
It's when it's easy that I lose myself and feel like I could run forever.
I went home afterwards, and longingly looked at the Honolulu Marathon website. I kept thinking, "I ran 20 miles. I was going to do San Francisco, but then the move from hell happened, and I never did it...I knew when I did that 20 miler that I could have definitely done six more. I nearly did then. I wish I had...but that's OK. Now, I want to do THIS marathon!"
I blurted it out to Kent. "Hon, I want to do the Honolulu Marathon. It's the one I really wanted to do. It was my first goal. I think I want to go for it this year."
His reaction?
"OK."
...Oh. OK then! We're on!
My new goal: December 13, 2009: The Honolulu Marathon. It'll give me a chance to go back to my old stomping grounds. I haven't been there since that summer of 1982. It's been so long. I want to see the old apartment complex, and walk my favorite walk from Kapiolani Park down to the Hale Koa hotel. I want to check out Ala Moana, and take the tram at Pearlridge. And I want to smell all the plumeria I can get my hands on. They're still one of my favorite flowers.
It's my goal. I am already checking out flights, and now I simply need either to reserve a room at a hostel, or find someone to go with me to split the hotel costs. Kent is willing to stay with the girls, although perhaps our parents can watch them and we can go together. It's a thought.
But this time, I'm not going to stress over whether I can go fast enough to beat 5 hours. I will train to complete it; if I break 5 hours, great. If not, I just want to finish it. It's a better goal for a marathon "virgin" anyway.
Anyway, this morning, since Kara was better and I didn't feel like I'd subject other kids to her cold, I planned to go to the Y to do weight training and then simply walk for a bit, but after almost an hour of Cybex (including a very humbling assisted-weight pullup session lasting for exactly THREE pullups), I got on the treadmill and soon was doing what I call "reverse intervals", with 2 minutes' walking and 30 seconds in an all-out sprint.
I used to do these on a six-minute-per-mile pace; the best I could scrape out was an 8-minute-per-mile pace today. It was tough, but I had a good time with it.
Tomorrow, more running on tap. I think I'll aim for another four miles. I am hopeful that I'll have another "flying" day, but if there is one thing I have found in running, it is that the days you expect to be easy rarely are; and sometimes, the days you expect to be the most impossible end up being the kind of days you live for.
Have a lovely day, and here's to an even better tomorrow...we hope!
I know, I know. That probably sounds a lot like, "Wow, I forgot how much having a root canal with no anesthesia can be!"
But it's true. When everything "clicks", running is just...joyous. I had completely forgotten that in all the chaos of the past eight months or so.
Last week, when I was into my 2nd week of my couch-to-Bay-To-Breakers-12K program that I made up for myself, I was seriously wondering if I had completely lost my mind. I have been starting slow, doing run/walk intervals. In my past running life, that meant run 2 miles, walk a minute. My new goal was to simply run for three minutes, after which I would reward myself with 30 seconds of walking.
Oh, and that run? Yeah. It was at a 5 mph pace, which is a 12-minute mile. That's my former "I'm dilly-dallying" or "I'm running 20 miles today so I'm taking it easy" pace.
Was it a "taking it easy pace" last week? Heck no! It was almost an all-out, do-it-or-die sprint!
That's how fast you lose your running mojo. Three months and wham, I'm back to being a beginner.
But wait? What glimmer of hope was that? I ran a 5K one day, and 4 miles two days later.
I know, I know. I had to walk 1 1/2 minutes of every darned mile, but I did it. I put in the mileage.
Fast-forward to St. Patrick's Day. Despite it being a "Baby Gymnastics" day, I didn't dare take Karalyn to the YMCA child care center. She was still too sick. So I had to wait until Kent got home, at which time I dashed off to do a quick hour on the treadmill.
See what I mean? An hour on the treadmill. And I'm treating it like a "quick hour" running.
That's how fast the running bug bites you.
So anyway, I realized that if I intended to get everyone fed and to bed on time, I really only had about 40 minutes, plus driving time, but I thought I might be able to get a 5K out of it. I started two weeks ago with 2 minute run/30 second walk intervals; last week, I went to 3 minute run/30 second walk. Naturally, this week, I went to 4 minute run/30 second walk.
I was prepared to die on that treadmill. Last week I was seriously dying, slogging through those three minutes, watching the clock, counting each 60 seconds, thinking there had to be something wrong with my watch interval timer. I scraped through by my fingernails, and worried about what this week would bring.
So I got on the treadmill, hit the button to start my 12 min/mile pace, and went at it. 4 minutes run, 30 seconds walk.
2 miles in, I'm thinking, what's going on here? I didn't get it. I wasn't nearly as winded as I had been last week. I was flying right along, barely noticing until the timer beeped that it was time to do the walk. I seriously debated running through the intervals but decided to do it the right way. But after 2 miles, I kept thinking, "This should be harder."
I was flying! It was slow, but I had that "flying" feeling back, just like I used to get on my favorite five-mile run, the Presidential Loop in Kennebunkport, Maine.
Like the running was effortless.
Light.
Fun!
So, being the glutton for punishment that I am, I upped the speed. I thought, "I should be working harder here. I'm not nearly winded enough." (I'm such a dork!) So I bumped it up to a 10 minute 56 second-per-mile pace, with 4 minutes run/30 seconds walk.
That felt a little tougher, but even that wasn't quite enough. I did another mile, and thought, for the last tenth, I'll just bump it up to a ten-minute-per-mile pace for the last tenth.
My vanity got the best of me; after a tenth of a mile, I thought, "That was it?" and ran another tenth.
My Personal St. Patrick's Day 5K turned into a 5K-Plus-1/10th-mile run!
Time? 38:56.
No, it was definitely not blazingly fast, but better than, oh, say, three weeks ago when I wasn't running AT ALL.
But in the meantime, I discovered this visceral joy in running. It was so easy and effortless that I was watching Oprah and not even noticing the time go by. I was tempted to say that Oprah was just too distracting--and yes, medical mistakes CAN be quite distracting--but nothing is THAT distracting when you're having a hard run.
It's when it's easy that I lose myself and feel like I could run forever.
I went home afterwards, and longingly looked at the Honolulu Marathon website. I kept thinking, "I ran 20 miles. I was going to do San Francisco, but then the move from hell happened, and I never did it...I knew when I did that 20 miler that I could have definitely done six more. I nearly did then. I wish I had...but that's OK. Now, I want to do THIS marathon!"
I blurted it out to Kent. "Hon, I want to do the Honolulu Marathon. It's the one I really wanted to do. It was my first goal. I think I want to go for it this year."
His reaction?
"OK."
...Oh. OK then! We're on!
My new goal: December 13, 2009: The Honolulu Marathon. It'll give me a chance to go back to my old stomping grounds. I haven't been there since that summer of 1982. It's been so long. I want to see the old apartment complex, and walk my favorite walk from Kapiolani Park down to the Hale Koa hotel. I want to check out Ala Moana, and take the tram at Pearlridge. And I want to smell all the plumeria I can get my hands on. They're still one of my favorite flowers.
It's my goal. I am already checking out flights, and now I simply need either to reserve a room at a hostel, or find someone to go with me to split the hotel costs. Kent is willing to stay with the girls, although perhaps our parents can watch them and we can go together. It's a thought.
But this time, I'm not going to stress over whether I can go fast enough to beat 5 hours. I will train to complete it; if I break 5 hours, great. If not, I just want to finish it. It's a better goal for a marathon "virgin" anyway.
Anyway, this morning, since Kara was better and I didn't feel like I'd subject other kids to her cold, I planned to go to the Y to do weight training and then simply walk for a bit, but after almost an hour of Cybex (including a very humbling assisted-weight pullup session lasting for exactly THREE pullups), I got on the treadmill and soon was doing what I call "reverse intervals", with 2 minutes' walking and 30 seconds in an all-out sprint.
I used to do these on a six-minute-per-mile pace; the best I could scrape out was an 8-minute-per-mile pace today. It was tough, but I had a good time with it.
Tomorrow, more running on tap. I think I'll aim for another four miles. I am hopeful that I'll have another "flying" day, but if there is one thing I have found in running, it is that the days you expect to be easy rarely are; and sometimes, the days you expect to be the most impossible end up being the kind of days you live for.
Have a lovely day, and here's to an even better tomorrow...we hope!
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Officially Back in Training
Today was my 2nd day of run training. I am back at it. But to explain how, I first have to back up a bit...
On Saturday, Feb. 28, I went to Sacramento on my own to get this laptop (MacBook) repaired--there was a crack in the casing. While I was there, I went to SportsAuthority, and looked for a sports watch. I needed one in the worst way. I totally scored, and found a brand new UnderArmour training watch. It was normally priced $89, and was marked down to $50. I was so excited; the price was right, and it had all the features I needed. It's pink and it has a chronometer and an interval timer. The chronometer tracks my overall time and the splits (individual laps or segments of sport, such as in a triathlon), up to 75 different splits. The interval timer lets me program run/walk intervals, with an alarm, so I can run a set time and then walk a set time, which is a standard training routine for new runners, or returning runners like me.
So now, we're heading back up to last Tuesday. I took out my new watch, and set it with two intervals: a 2 minute, and a 30 second. That is, I planned to do 2 minutes of running followed by a 30 second walk. I hoped I'd be able to handle that much running, and that I wouldn't have to dial up the walk segment to a minute or even (gasp) time equal to running.
After Karalyn went to baby Gymnastics last week, I dropped her off at child care to "play", which she willingly did in lieu of going home for a nap, and then I hit the treadmill.
I went two miles of run/walk, and walked an additional two after that. It was tough but I did it. I walked the next day, and that was it for the week.
Cue up the music for today...duh duh DUHHH! What would have happened after one single run? I decided to be positive, and so I reset my watch for a 3 minute run, 30 second walk. Once again, after baby Gymnastics, Kara went to play and I hit the treadmill.
Watching the little TV monitor on the treadmill kept me occupied so I didn't dwell on the time. I watched "What Not To Wear," which is a really fun show where people's wardrobes are hijacked, dumped, and then the two hosts give the person $5 grand to buy a new wardrobe, following their suggestions. The lady today had lost a lot of weight but still had the roll around the middle...sort of like me!...and so it was interesting to see what kind of wardrobe they had her choose. She was still a size 18 or so, which I am not any longer--I'm currently a 12, up from my former size 8 in Maine--but it was still interesting.
The time flew by and before I knew it, I had run a 5K. I did 3.2 miles! I was elated! I walked an additional 2 miles, like last week, and then realized that, along with the elation, I felt depressed at the same time.
Depressed? Why?
My pace was pretty much a 12-minute mile pace, or 5 mph. That was my slow-and-easy pace when I ran my 20 miles back in May, and even back then I wasn't doing a 3 minute run and 30 second walk. I was running pretty much the full five miles with a short break and then rehitting another 5, for four loops. My normal easy pace was 10 minute miles for 6 miles at a time (sometimes more, up to 12 miles); my race pace was around a 9 minute mile. And here I was, run/walking a 12 minute mile.
However, the sense of elation returned when I realized that after months of not running, I was able to run/walk a 5K faster than the first ever 5K I walked with Maddy, way back in 2007. I also remembered a post I saw late last night when I was perusing a site called "43 things" that there were a whole lot of people who had as a goal, "Run one mile". And I thought...I just did 3.2, on 2 days' practice.
So I'll take being elated. My training will be to compete in the 12K Bay t0 Breakers race in San Francisco. There is a killer hill early in, and I know I will probably have to walk at least some of that, but I hope to run the rest of it, at least most of the rest of it. That will be about an 8 mile run. I've walked it before, and was wicked sore afterwards, but that was back in 1992 and I was also horribly unfit back then. I have been wanting to do the Bay to Breakers for almost 2 years, now, and now I will have my chance.
I hope to run more this week. We head to Eureka for a family visit this weekend, and I plan to do some running there, too. Hopefully by the time next Tuesday rolls around, I will be able to maybe bump it up to 4 minutes' run, 30 second walk. We'll see.
Either way, I'm back in training! Yay me! :)
On Saturday, Feb. 28, I went to Sacramento on my own to get this laptop (MacBook) repaired--there was a crack in the casing. While I was there, I went to SportsAuthority, and looked for a sports watch. I needed one in the worst way. I totally scored, and found a brand new UnderArmour training watch. It was normally priced $89, and was marked down to $50. I was so excited; the price was right, and it had all the features I needed. It's pink and it has a chronometer and an interval timer. The chronometer tracks my overall time and the splits (individual laps or segments of sport, such as in a triathlon), up to 75 different splits. The interval timer lets me program run/walk intervals, with an alarm, so I can run a set time and then walk a set time, which is a standard training routine for new runners, or returning runners like me.
So now, we're heading back up to last Tuesday. I took out my new watch, and set it with two intervals: a 2 minute, and a 30 second. That is, I planned to do 2 minutes of running followed by a 30 second walk. I hoped I'd be able to handle that much running, and that I wouldn't have to dial up the walk segment to a minute or even (gasp) time equal to running.
After Karalyn went to baby Gymnastics last week, I dropped her off at child care to "play", which she willingly did in lieu of going home for a nap, and then I hit the treadmill.
I went two miles of run/walk, and walked an additional two after that. It was tough but I did it. I walked the next day, and that was it for the week.
Cue up the music for today...duh duh DUHHH! What would have happened after one single run? I decided to be positive, and so I reset my watch for a 3 minute run, 30 second walk. Once again, after baby Gymnastics, Kara went to play and I hit the treadmill.
Watching the little TV monitor on the treadmill kept me occupied so I didn't dwell on the time. I watched "What Not To Wear," which is a really fun show where people's wardrobes are hijacked, dumped, and then the two hosts give the person $5 grand to buy a new wardrobe, following their suggestions. The lady today had lost a lot of weight but still had the roll around the middle...sort of like me!...and so it was interesting to see what kind of wardrobe they had her choose. She was still a size 18 or so, which I am not any longer--I'm currently a 12, up from my former size 8 in Maine--but it was still interesting.
The time flew by and before I knew it, I had run a 5K. I did 3.2 miles! I was elated! I walked an additional 2 miles, like last week, and then realized that, along with the elation, I felt depressed at the same time.
Depressed? Why?
My pace was pretty much a 12-minute mile pace, or 5 mph. That was my slow-and-easy pace when I ran my 20 miles back in May, and even back then I wasn't doing a 3 minute run and 30 second walk. I was running pretty much the full five miles with a short break and then rehitting another 5, for four loops. My normal easy pace was 10 minute miles for 6 miles at a time (sometimes more, up to 12 miles); my race pace was around a 9 minute mile. And here I was, run/walking a 12 minute mile.
However, the sense of elation returned when I realized that after months of not running, I was able to run/walk a 5K faster than the first ever 5K I walked with Maddy, way back in 2007. I also remembered a post I saw late last night when I was perusing a site called "43 things" that there were a whole lot of people who had as a goal, "Run one mile". And I thought...I just did 3.2, on 2 days' practice.
So I'll take being elated. My training will be to compete in the 12K Bay t0 Breakers race in San Francisco. There is a killer hill early in, and I know I will probably have to walk at least some of that, but I hope to run the rest of it, at least most of the rest of it. That will be about an 8 mile run. I've walked it before, and was wicked sore afterwards, but that was back in 1992 and I was also horribly unfit back then. I have been wanting to do the Bay to Breakers for almost 2 years, now, and now I will have my chance.
I hope to run more this week. We head to Eureka for a family visit this weekend, and I plan to do some running there, too. Hopefully by the time next Tuesday rolls around, I will be able to maybe bump it up to 4 minutes' run, 30 second walk. We'll see.
Either way, I'm back in training! Yay me! :)
Friday, January 16, 2009
New Year, New Me?
Wow. I thought I was going to be better about this, and somehow life intervened. It's been a crazy ride but I think we're settled, now...
When last I posted, I had joined a couch-to-10K program. That kinda went by the wayside, although it got me trained enough to run the Portland, Oregon Kaiser Permanente 5-miler in early October, and in about a 10 1/2 min/mile pace, which is not bad considering how out of practice I was. The 5-miler was run just after the Portland Oregon marathon was begun; being there with the other marathoners was energizing, and the announcer who was telling everyone to stick with their training, hydrate, and so forth was really amazing.
Anyway, the next week I found myself back home in Maine for a fabulous two weeks with my girls. Kent stayed home to teach, but we got to go back and see our friends, stay overnight in our own house, stay the last time in my in-laws' condo (it has since been sold), and say a proper goodbye to all the places we love. And we got to spend time with Auntie Sue, the girls' Godmother, who drove up from Hoboken to be with us for a couple of the days.
My house in Maine
When we got back to Redding, we were essentially homeless; my sister had decided while we were in Maine that since she had upcoming surgery, she would need her "space" and "quiet", and told Kent we needed to be out by the following Sunday, the day after we arrived back home. She eventually relented enough to tell Kent that he and Maddy could stay there, but that Kara and I had to go to Eureka. Considering I had to be in Redding quite a lot anyway since we were in escrow on a house, that made no sense, and Kent refused to split us up, especially since we were still living out of suitcases. All our stuff was still in storage in Maine.
Anyway, that gave us exactly 5 days to find someplace to live; considering nobody rents apartments starting the middle of the month, and we couldn't afford anything more than a no-tell motel (which I would not subject my daughters to), we ended up moving to my in-laws' home in Willow Creek, two hours away. Thus began a hellacious 2-week odyssey of driving back and forth from Willow Creek to Redding, two hours each way, every singe day. Even on the weekend we had to drive in for either horse lessons for Maddy or school events for Kent. On only two days did Kara and I stay home; the other days we drove in. I could recount the hours spent sitting in the parking lot of the local library while Kara slept in the car, as we waited for Kent and Maddy to get done with school so we could drive two hours back to Willow Creek, only to do it all over again the next day...but it would bore you as much as it did me.
It takes a lot of work to be homeless.
Finally, we were in an apartment for a month. Kara and I went out almost daily for a run and walk, because there was nothing else to do but sit there and watch tv, which got very boring. That month went by in a blur of nothingness, but finally our anniversary arrived at the end of November, and with it the keys to our new home.
Our "home away from home" while in exile in California
We quickly started moving our possessions over to the house--what little we had, which was what we brought with us in the car and what came over with Maddy, and the few things we'd bought since. My in-laws AGAIN came through by bringing us some beds and blankets, some utensils, cups and so forth, so we could move into our home for real. We lived like that for a week, until our things finally arrived from Maine on December 5, 2008--almost exactly five months after we had packed them.
We were so happy to see the word MAINE on this truck!
When last I posted, I had joined a couch-to-10K program. That kinda went by the wayside, although it got me trained enough to run the Portland, Oregon Kaiser Permanente 5-miler in early October, and in about a 10 1/2 min/mile pace, which is not bad considering how out of practice I was. The 5-miler was run just after the Portland Oregon marathon was begun; being there with the other marathoners was energizing, and the announcer who was telling everyone to stick with their training, hydrate, and so forth was really amazing.
Anyway, the next week I found myself back home in Maine for a fabulous two weeks with my girls. Kent stayed home to teach, but we got to go back and see our friends, stay overnight in our own house, stay the last time in my in-laws' condo (it has since been sold), and say a proper goodbye to all the places we love. And we got to spend time with Auntie Sue, the girls' Godmother, who drove up from Hoboken to be with us for a couple of the days.
My house in MaineWhen we got back to Redding, we were essentially homeless; my sister had decided while we were in Maine that since she had upcoming surgery, she would need her "space" and "quiet", and told Kent we needed to be out by the following Sunday, the day after we arrived back home. She eventually relented enough to tell Kent that he and Maddy could stay there, but that Kara and I had to go to Eureka. Considering I had to be in Redding quite a lot anyway since we were in escrow on a house, that made no sense, and Kent refused to split us up, especially since we were still living out of suitcases. All our stuff was still in storage in Maine.
Anyway, that gave us exactly 5 days to find someplace to live; considering nobody rents apartments starting the middle of the month, and we couldn't afford anything more than a no-tell motel (which I would not subject my daughters to), we ended up moving to my in-laws' home in Willow Creek, two hours away. Thus began a hellacious 2-week odyssey of driving back and forth from Willow Creek to Redding, two hours each way, every singe day. Even on the weekend we had to drive in for either horse lessons for Maddy or school events for Kent. On only two days did Kara and I stay home; the other days we drove in. I could recount the hours spent sitting in the parking lot of the local library while Kara slept in the car, as we waited for Kent and Maddy to get done with school so we could drive two hours back to Willow Creek, only to do it all over again the next day...but it would bore you as much as it did me.
It takes a lot of work to be homeless.
Finally, we were in an apartment for a month. Kara and I went out almost daily for a run and walk, because there was nothing else to do but sit there and watch tv, which got very boring. That month went by in a blur of nothingness, but finally our anniversary arrived at the end of November, and with it the keys to our new home.
Our "home away from home" while in exile in California We quickly started moving our possessions over to the house--what little we had, which was what we brought with us in the car and what came over with Maddy, and the few things we'd bought since. My in-laws AGAIN came through by bringing us some beds and blankets, some utensils, cups and so forth, so we could move into our home for real. We lived like that for a week, until our things finally arrived from Maine on December 5, 2008--almost exactly five months after we had packed them.
We were so happy to see the word MAINE on this truck!The next month (December) was taken up with finishing painting (almost the entire inside), unpacking, putting away, setting up, and breaking down boxes. It took two weeks, and then we were off to Eureka for Christmas with the family. We were there for a week, and Kara had her 2nd birthday party at my in-laws' house the day after Christmas. Then we came back home, and started to live "life for real".
Looking back, I suppose my sister did us a favor overall. Despite the two hour drive, my daughter announced that she'd rather do the drive if it meant we got to be a family again, just us four. And it was nice to get back into our own routines, and not always worry about if I was disturbing them when they were trying to watch tv. I did that one time too many, and I just couldn't handle it anymore.
The sad part is that my sister's and my relationship is somewhat strained since; I was angry enough not to go see her in the hospital, where her cyst removal turned into a hysterectomy; she was insensitive enough to tell me that she "wished" that she and I "had the kind of relationship" where we were like best friends.
My apologies for digressing here...but it IS my blog, isn't it? ;D ...what blows me away is that I am used to the kind of relationship where people do what they can to help, and you do the same. It's not like I didn't cook, or clean; I did. It's not like I didn't run errands and ferry kids around; I did. But when it came down to it, she was interested in her recovery to the exclusion of everyone else.
My example of the difference is this: that when her ex-husband's truck died, it was our brother who drove him an hour away to his home; when she needs her kids to go to Eureka because she's got something else to do, she either has our parents drive over to get them, or she meets them "halfway" in Weaverville...two hours for them, one for her. By comparison, when my in-laws realized that our whole family was down with the flu, they offered to drive six hours to pick up Auntie Sue (who's flying in to Oakland tomorrow), then another four to drive her up to Redding; then they'd still have three more to get home.
THAT is the kind of give-and-take we're used to. And can't you tell, it still bothers me.
Wow, that was really a digression. But that's also part of the "What the heck are we doing here" piece, because if we're here for family, and that family routinely puts themself first to the exclusion and detriment of everyone else...well, that's not the kind of family connection we were looking for. We want to be loved, not "used". We want family to want to come over and visit, not ask us to come pick up her kid and ferry her here or there.
So since we got settled into our new house, I've been looking for jobs. I want something I can do after school is over so I can stay home with Kara, and I'm selfish enough to want to love what I'm doing. I have a feeling that's pretty selfish, especially in this economy.
I've also done a little running, once with Maddy. But I hadn't really gotten back into things. Something felt...off. Weird. I think it's not being in Maine. Kent and I keep saying, Yes, we're here for family...but that's it. There is no other connection. The crazy weather (80 degrees yesterday on January 15!!) is kinda nice, especially since it's 1 degree (yes, ONE) in Kennebunkport tonight...but other than that? Nothing. We just don't feel this place is home. We keep saying, "two years". We'll see...it depends on whether Kent can get rehired at his old place on the pay scale. If he has to start over...well...maybe not.
So things were going along kinda weird, like I didn't know what was next...and then Kara got sick...and then I got slammed. Think an hour and a half of cramping stomach that has you rolling around on the ground talking about the emergency room. The only reason I didn't let Kent take me was I didn't want to wake the girls. Holy cow. It eventually passed, but I had the worst stomach flu over the next 24 hours. As a runner, I never got sick much--and I haven't been that sick since April of 2006, which I remember because it's when I discovered I was pregnant with Kara.
The illness was eye-opening, though. I realized how far I had gone from my healthy lifestyle. I was staying up late, not sleeping enough, not eating well, not drinking enough water (although I drink a lot of decaf tea), and definitely not running or even walking. I spend too much time hunched over a computer--granted, some of it job-searching--but as I was lying there between spasms on the floor, I told Kent, "I'm so sorry, I can't believe this, you're awake because I let this happen." He ended up having to the day off school because he was up most of the night with me; then it turned into two days off school when Maddy came down with the same thing I did. Poor Kent had to disinfect floors (after Maddy "christened" them being sick all the way down the thankfully-tiled hallway), make runs to the store for sprite and kids' motrin, and basically run things while I spent most of my time in bed or curled up in a ball somewhere.
Today I felt well enough to actually get up and start doing some laundry that needed to be washed. All I needed was to let some germ-infested blanket re-infect us all! Kent is a little bit sick now, too, not nearly where we were, but definitely sick. The plague has definitely hit.
So I got to wondering, what lessons do I learn from this mis-adventure? A lot! And oddly enough, I already learned them once before:
This last one is what's been eluding me. In Maine, I was working at Borders, watching while Kara grew up, and enjoying the waxing and waning of each year through the various seasons. Here, everything is pretty much always the same; sometimes it's a bit colder, sometimes a bit warmer, but there are flowers blooming outside the local Holiday Market, for heaven's sake! There are no seasons to this place, so it is hard to find any kind of natural beginning and ending to anything. It's all kind of the same.
I don't have a job yet, and we are not connected to this house at all. Again, I go back to feeling like we're here treading water, just biding our time until we can go home. A forced exile, if you will. We are Mainer Expatriates living in a foreign culture.
So my purpose, my goal, my focus....
Well, there is a half marathon coming up in May in Humboldt County, and the Bay to Breakers in San Francisco in May as well. Those will do for goals. Purpose and focus? Be a good Mom, I suppose; help us get through the time until we decide we want to stay here for sure, or go home. We do still have our house there. It never sold, so it's being rented. That means we do still have time to decide if we want to go back. Right now, we say resoundingly yes!
The big part of my focus is going to be not getting myself so unhealthy that I fall prey to illnesses that I would normally shrug off. I know I left myself wide open for this--my sister and her girls got sick often enough while we were there that I should have gotten something, but I never did. Until I stopped running, sleeping, and eating properly.
The purpose? I'm not so sure. I'm still working on that one. I know we're here in California for something; the job was too easy to get, the move to fast to have been without reason. As my father-in-law said, it was the right decision at the time. Now? We feel it was a massive error. But we didn't know until we tried. So now we sit and wait to find out why we were led out here. I don't know what that is; maybe it's simply to ensure we can be here when my father turns 80 next month. Who knows. Whatever it is, I have no doubt that it will reveal itself in time.
So, meanwhile...a new year, a new me. Back in the saddle for real. If this illness wasn't my wake-up call, I don't know what it was.
I'm heeding the call. Time to get up and lace up those Nikes!
Best wishes to you all for a lovely, prosperous, healthy, and JOYFUL 2009! We will be joyful tomorrow, when a bit of home in the form of Auntie Sue comes to visit for a week. Yay!
Looking back, I suppose my sister did us a favor overall. Despite the two hour drive, my daughter announced that she'd rather do the drive if it meant we got to be a family again, just us four. And it was nice to get back into our own routines, and not always worry about if I was disturbing them when they were trying to watch tv. I did that one time too many, and I just couldn't handle it anymore.
The sad part is that my sister's and my relationship is somewhat strained since; I was angry enough not to go see her in the hospital, where her cyst removal turned into a hysterectomy; she was insensitive enough to tell me that she "wished" that she and I "had the kind of relationship" where we were like best friends.
My apologies for digressing here...but it IS my blog, isn't it? ;D ...what blows me away is that I am used to the kind of relationship where people do what they can to help, and you do the same. It's not like I didn't cook, or clean; I did. It's not like I didn't run errands and ferry kids around; I did. But when it came down to it, she was interested in her recovery to the exclusion of everyone else.
My example of the difference is this: that when her ex-husband's truck died, it was our brother who drove him an hour away to his home; when she needs her kids to go to Eureka because she's got something else to do, she either has our parents drive over to get them, or she meets them "halfway" in Weaverville...two hours for them, one for her. By comparison, when my in-laws realized that our whole family was down with the flu, they offered to drive six hours to pick up Auntie Sue (who's flying in to Oakland tomorrow), then another four to drive her up to Redding; then they'd still have three more to get home.
THAT is the kind of give-and-take we're used to. And can't you tell, it still bothers me.
Wow, that was really a digression. But that's also part of the "What the heck are we doing here" piece, because if we're here for family, and that family routinely puts themself first to the exclusion and detriment of everyone else...well, that's not the kind of family connection we were looking for. We want to be loved, not "used". We want family to want to come over and visit, not ask us to come pick up her kid and ferry her here or there.
So since we got settled into our new house, I've been looking for jobs. I want something I can do after school is over so I can stay home with Kara, and I'm selfish enough to want to love what I'm doing. I have a feeling that's pretty selfish, especially in this economy.
I've also done a little running, once with Maddy. But I hadn't really gotten back into things. Something felt...off. Weird. I think it's not being in Maine. Kent and I keep saying, Yes, we're here for family...but that's it. There is no other connection. The crazy weather (80 degrees yesterday on January 15!!) is kinda nice, especially since it's 1 degree (yes, ONE) in Kennebunkport tonight...but other than that? Nothing. We just don't feel this place is home. We keep saying, "two years". We'll see...it depends on whether Kent can get rehired at his old place on the pay scale. If he has to start over...well...maybe not.
So things were going along kinda weird, like I didn't know what was next...and then Kara got sick...and then I got slammed. Think an hour and a half of cramping stomach that has you rolling around on the ground talking about the emergency room. The only reason I didn't let Kent take me was I didn't want to wake the girls. Holy cow. It eventually passed, but I had the worst stomach flu over the next 24 hours. As a runner, I never got sick much--and I haven't been that sick since April of 2006, which I remember because it's when I discovered I was pregnant with Kara.
The illness was eye-opening, though. I realized how far I had gone from my healthy lifestyle. I was staying up late, not sleeping enough, not eating well, not drinking enough water (although I drink a lot of decaf tea), and definitely not running or even walking. I spend too much time hunched over a computer--granted, some of it job-searching--but as I was lying there between spasms on the floor, I told Kent, "I'm so sorry, I can't believe this, you're awake because I let this happen." He ended up having to the day off school because he was up most of the night with me; then it turned into two days off school when Maddy came down with the same thing I did. Poor Kent had to disinfect floors (after Maddy "christened" them being sick all the way down the thankfully-tiled hallway), make runs to the store for sprite and kids' motrin, and basically run things while I spent most of my time in bed or curled up in a ball somewhere.
Today I felt well enough to actually get up and start doing some laundry that needed to be washed. All I needed was to let some germ-infested blanket re-infect us all! Kent is a little bit sick now, too, not nearly where we were, but definitely sick. The plague has definitely hit.
So I got to wondering, what lessons do I learn from this mis-adventure? A lot! And oddly enough, I already learned them once before:
- Get enough sleep. This is job #1!
- Eat good food. Eat REAL food--nothing processed, nothing fake, just good stuff as close to its natural state as possible.
- Drink enough water; decaf tea works but water is really excellent for keeping you hydrated. Important when you're sick.
- Get out for walks at least, runs if possible.
- Keep everyone to a good, solid schedule, so that everyone has enough energy and fuel to get them through their various activities.
- Have a purpose, a goal, a focus.
This last one is what's been eluding me. In Maine, I was working at Borders, watching while Kara grew up, and enjoying the waxing and waning of each year through the various seasons. Here, everything is pretty much always the same; sometimes it's a bit colder, sometimes a bit warmer, but there are flowers blooming outside the local Holiday Market, for heaven's sake! There are no seasons to this place, so it is hard to find any kind of natural beginning and ending to anything. It's all kind of the same.
I don't have a job yet, and we are not connected to this house at all. Again, I go back to feeling like we're here treading water, just biding our time until we can go home. A forced exile, if you will. We are Mainer Expatriates living in a foreign culture.
So my purpose, my goal, my focus....
Well, there is a half marathon coming up in May in Humboldt County, and the Bay to Breakers in San Francisco in May as well. Those will do for goals. Purpose and focus? Be a good Mom, I suppose; help us get through the time until we decide we want to stay here for sure, or go home. We do still have our house there. It never sold, so it's being rented. That means we do still have time to decide if we want to go back. Right now, we say resoundingly yes!
The big part of my focus is going to be not getting myself so unhealthy that I fall prey to illnesses that I would normally shrug off. I know I left myself wide open for this--my sister and her girls got sick often enough while we were there that I should have gotten something, but I never did. Until I stopped running, sleeping, and eating properly.
The purpose? I'm not so sure. I'm still working on that one. I know we're here in California for something; the job was too easy to get, the move to fast to have been without reason. As my father-in-law said, it was the right decision at the time. Now? We feel it was a massive error. But we didn't know until we tried. So now we sit and wait to find out why we were led out here. I don't know what that is; maybe it's simply to ensure we can be here when my father turns 80 next month. Who knows. Whatever it is, I have no doubt that it will reveal itself in time.
So, meanwhile...a new year, a new me. Back in the saddle for real. If this illness wasn't my wake-up call, I don't know what it was.
I'm heeding the call. Time to get up and lace up those Nikes!
Best wishes to you all for a lovely, prosperous, healthy, and JOYFUL 2009! We will be joyful tomorrow, when a bit of home in the form of Auntie Sue comes to visit for a week. Yay!
Friday, September 5, 2008
Dealing with Frustration
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!
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!
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Back in the Saddle...er, Treadmill...again
Here we go again!
Today was my first day back on track. Since we got here a few weeks ago, I've been checking out a bunch of fitness clubs in the area. One had great classes but the facility was really run-down and gritty. Another one had no pool, so wouldn't have worked for Maddy or ME when I am back into triathlon training. Another one had a pool, great classes, fitness focused on women, treadmills with tv screens on them...but the membership fee was $650! (You don't PAY that though...they knock it down to $480 or so through various "incentives", then you knock off $18 every month you work out...that requires a 3 year commitment at least.)
I was getting bummed but then we found the Y. WHY I didn't look before, considering we belonged to one in Maine, boggles the mind. I'll blame it on being brain-dead due to not exercising.
That same brain-dead-edness also stopped me from considering that my sister's remote control might not be programmed properly (it wasn't) until AFTER the Olympics were over...and after I programmed it properly, requiring finding appropriate codes online, I discovered SHE DOES get NBC. It didn't come in until I set the remote to find the channels automatically...and the channel did not come up when manually hitting the "up channel" button on the VCR.
So we missed the ENTIRE Olympics for nothing.
Argh!!!
Anyway, I digress.
The YMCA here is fabulous. They have the 25-yard pool (outside) and another inside for waterobics or whatever you call it. They have a nice cardio theatre and Cybex weights, and their treadmills are in the upstairs area--and they all have their own TV screens. It's called "Cardio Theatre" and it rocks!! I was bummed about not having access to my own choices on the treadmill, now that I no longer have a basement entertainment center (or a treadmill, for that matter). No problemo--I have full cable choices right at eye level, and I control them. YES!
There is a great daycare, and Kara was a real trooper for her first day there. She was there for an hour and fifteen minutes, and only called for me a couple times. She never cried, and she happily had her milky and some "cack-ows" (crackers) for snack. She was delighted to see me, though, which was gratifying!
There are also CLASSES. Did you see that? I said, there are CLASSES!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I have been missing classes since we moved to Maine. What classes? ANY classes! I'll take whatever anyone offers! YES, my home YMCA had classes, but I never tried going to them because I had my own treadmill and I was biking on my own and swimming at the Y. So I didn't bother.
NOW, however, as I'm trying to rebuild my fitness base, I'm delighted to have the option.
Why?
Here's a secret: I know how to do ab work, but unless someone's standing over me cracking the whip, I won't do it. It's a pain, I get bored, and I need the mental/verbal direction to get me going. I'll do it if it's a class, but otherwise...no.
So there are two classes I'm going to take. One is a 1x a week ("Extreme" targeting glutes and guts), and the other is a 2x a week--Pilates/Yoga! So between those, and running 3x a week, I should be doing well within the next two months. I figure it took me two months to lose it, it'll take me 2 months to get it back. I don't have any illusions that I'll be back to running 20 miles on my LSD (Long Slow Distance) runs in just two months, but being able to run 8 to 13 at a time would be wonderful.
This morning, I was so tired I was literally almost cross-eyed. Thankfully Kara slept in, so after dropping Kent & Maddy at school, I went back home and slept for a couple more hours. I was really headachy, and felt so tired that I nearly didn't go to the Y after all. Finally, though, I remembered an old piece of advice I read on RunnersWorld.com:
If you don't feel like going, just at least get dressed, and head out the door. If you get started and still don't feel like running, turn around and go home. However, chances are that you'll feel better and be glad you went.
So I did it. I got dressed, fed the baby, and then took off for the Y. I intended to hang around the babycare area at first, but they told me they'd call me if she cried for "more than ten minutes" (MY child? Miss Sunshine?), and it was best to "dash out before she sees." So off I went. I was on a treadmill in a matter of minutes, and happily settled in at an 11 min/mile pace to the tune of HGTV on my personal video screen.
I lasted two miles.
TWO MILES! How totally pathetic is that?? OH MY GOSH! I couldn't believe it! Two months, and I go from running 20 miles comfortably to feeling like my legs are made of lead in just TWO miles!!
This is COMPLETELY unacceptable!
I had to slow to a walk (15 min/mile pace), then kicked it back up to a run for a mile. After that single mile, I had to walk again, then I ran one more. I finally had enough and walked another 20 minutes, and then that was it.
FOUR MILES. How sad! Four miles used to be my "quick dash" on the treadmill. That was a non-running day. Now that was all I could manage!
I am SO not happy. But I knew this would happen.
This is the weird thing: once you get fit, you hate losing it. And it can be utterly demoralizing and depressing, and it's so easy to say, "Oh well, crud, I blew it, I might as well have another Oreo." And I've done a LITTLE of that, but I knew that I was playing around with unhealthy food for a short period of time, and that I would rapidly getting sick of eating like that...and that soon enough, I'd be back on track. I hit that point this week...and last week when I ate a lot of M&Ms while watching Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.
So it's time to get back into it. The classes are very exciting. I know that with my single-minded focus, which I am infamous for, I will regain my fitness soon enough. I look forward to being able to fit into my clothes better, and hopefully with the glutes/gut and the pilates/yoga, I'll be even more fit than I was before.
Is there a six pack of abs in my future? I doubt that. However, I can certainly tighten things up. And a stronger stomach will make a stronger back, eliminate my back spasms, and help my running form as well. And my shirts will look nicer, too.
So here we go. Time to kick booty again. My willpower AND my WANT-POWER are up and running!! I'm up for 2x pilates/yoga, 1x glutes/gut, and 3x running per week. The other day I'll probably swim or walk or something. Or maybe I'll just take naps. LOL.
Now I just need our house to sell so we can buy one here, and we'll be good to go.
Anyone wanna buy a house in Kennebunkport, Maine? It's really pretty and a screamingly low price for Kennebunkport!
(See that TV in the pictures? That's my basement...the treadmill used to be to the right of the picture, facing the TV...it is such a gorgeous house...!)
Happy days, everyone!
____________________________________________________________________________
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 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!
Today was my first day back on track. Since we got here a few weeks ago, I've been checking out a bunch of fitness clubs in the area. One had great classes but the facility was really run-down and gritty. Another one had no pool, so wouldn't have worked for Maddy or ME when I am back into triathlon training. Another one had a pool, great classes, fitness focused on women, treadmills with tv screens on them...but the membership fee was $650! (You don't PAY that though...they knock it down to $480 or so through various "incentives", then you knock off $18 every month you work out...that requires a 3 year commitment at least.)
I was getting bummed but then we found the Y. WHY I didn't look before, considering we belonged to one in Maine, boggles the mind. I'll blame it on being brain-dead due to not exercising.
That same brain-dead-edness also stopped me from considering that my sister's remote control might not be programmed properly (it wasn't) until AFTER the Olympics were over...and after I programmed it properly, requiring finding appropriate codes online, I discovered SHE DOES get NBC. It didn't come in until I set the remote to find the channels automatically...and the channel did not come up when manually hitting the "up channel" button on the VCR.
So we missed the ENTIRE Olympics for nothing.
Argh!!!
Anyway, I digress.
The YMCA here is fabulous. They have the 25-yard pool (outside) and another inside for waterobics or whatever you call it. They have a nice cardio theatre and Cybex weights, and their treadmills are in the upstairs area--and they all have their own TV screens. It's called "Cardio Theatre" and it rocks!! I was bummed about not having access to my own choices on the treadmill, now that I no longer have a basement entertainment center (or a treadmill, for that matter). No problemo--I have full cable choices right at eye level, and I control them. YES!
There is a great daycare, and Kara was a real trooper for her first day there. She was there for an hour and fifteen minutes, and only called for me a couple times. She never cried, and she happily had her milky and some "cack-ows" (crackers) for snack. She was delighted to see me, though, which was gratifying!
There are also CLASSES. Did you see that? I said, there are CLASSES!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I have been missing classes since we moved to Maine. What classes? ANY classes! I'll take whatever anyone offers! YES, my home YMCA had classes, but I never tried going to them because I had my own treadmill and I was biking on my own and swimming at the Y. So I didn't bother.
NOW, however, as I'm trying to rebuild my fitness base, I'm delighted to have the option.
Why?
Here's a secret: I know how to do ab work, but unless someone's standing over me cracking the whip, I won't do it. It's a pain, I get bored, and I need the mental/verbal direction to get me going. I'll do it if it's a class, but otherwise...no.
So there are two classes I'm going to take. One is a 1x a week ("Extreme" targeting glutes and guts), and the other is a 2x a week--Pilates/Yoga! So between those, and running 3x a week, I should be doing well within the next two months. I figure it took me two months to lose it, it'll take me 2 months to get it back. I don't have any illusions that I'll be back to running 20 miles on my LSD (Long Slow Distance) runs in just two months, but being able to run 8 to 13 at a time would be wonderful.
This morning, I was so tired I was literally almost cross-eyed. Thankfully Kara slept in, so after dropping Kent & Maddy at school, I went back home and slept for a couple more hours. I was really headachy, and felt so tired that I nearly didn't go to the Y after all. Finally, though, I remembered an old piece of advice I read on RunnersWorld.com:
If you don't feel like going, just at least get dressed, and head out the door. If you get started and still don't feel like running, turn around and go home. However, chances are that you'll feel better and be glad you went.
So I did it. I got dressed, fed the baby, and then took off for the Y. I intended to hang around the babycare area at first, but they told me they'd call me if she cried for "more than ten minutes" (MY child? Miss Sunshine?), and it was best to "dash out before she sees." So off I went. I was on a treadmill in a matter of minutes, and happily settled in at an 11 min/mile pace to the tune of HGTV on my personal video screen.
I lasted two miles.
TWO MILES! How totally pathetic is that?? OH MY GOSH! I couldn't believe it! Two months, and I go from running 20 miles comfortably to feeling like my legs are made of lead in just TWO miles!!
This is COMPLETELY unacceptable!
I had to slow to a walk (15 min/mile pace), then kicked it back up to a run for a mile. After that single mile, I had to walk again, then I ran one more. I finally had enough and walked another 20 minutes, and then that was it.
FOUR MILES. How sad! Four miles used to be my "quick dash" on the treadmill. That was a non-running day. Now that was all I could manage!
I am SO not happy. But I knew this would happen.
This is the weird thing: once you get fit, you hate losing it. And it can be utterly demoralizing and depressing, and it's so easy to say, "Oh well, crud, I blew it, I might as well have another Oreo." And I've done a LITTLE of that, but I knew that I was playing around with unhealthy food for a short period of time, and that I would rapidly getting sick of eating like that...and that soon enough, I'd be back on track. I hit that point this week...and last week when I ate a lot of M&Ms while watching Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.
So it's time to get back into it. The classes are very exciting. I know that with my single-minded focus, which I am infamous for, I will regain my fitness soon enough. I look forward to being able to fit into my clothes better, and hopefully with the glutes/gut and the pilates/yoga, I'll be even more fit than I was before.
Is there a six pack of abs in my future? I doubt that. However, I can certainly tighten things up. And a stronger stomach will make a stronger back, eliminate my back spasms, and help my running form as well. And my shirts will look nicer, too.
So here we go. Time to kick booty again. My willpower AND my WANT-POWER are up and running!! I'm up for 2x pilates/yoga, 1x glutes/gut, and 3x running per week. The other day I'll probably swim or walk or something. Or maybe I'll just take naps. LOL.
Now I just need our house to sell so we can buy one here, and we'll be good to go.
Anyone wanna buy a house in Kennebunkport, Maine? It's really pretty and a screamingly low price for Kennebunkport!
(See that TV in the pictures? That's my basement...the treadmill used to be to the right of the picture, facing the TV...it is such a gorgeous house...!)
Happy days, everyone!
____________________________________________________________________________
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 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!
Friday, September 21, 2007
On Becoming an Athlete
"Act like the person you want to be." --M.J. Ryan
Never in my life have I considered myself an athletic person. Sure, I would ride bikes, swim, skate and skateboard, and even scuba dive--but I never considered myself an athlete. To me, athletes are those people who have something like 0.2% body fat, can run a marathon in fifteen minutes, swim the English Channel on a lazy Saturday, and score perfect 10s in the Olympics.
Nope. Definitely not an athlete here.
But as the CELT Challenge Triathlon looms large in my future--just 8 days away now--I am faced with the very real notion that, when it is over, I will be considered a triathlete.
Me? Not even an athlete, but a triathlete?? That's like lumping me in with those 0.2% bodyfat Olympians that I previously mentioned!
But yet it's coming. And after the past week and months of training, I know that I'm ready.
The past couple days have been tough, though. Baby Kara has been waking up every hour or so starting just after midnight, and spending at least an hour awake between 3-4 in the morning. She cries for her "woobie" (pacifier), she gets up onto her knees, she crawls around, she stands. Sometimes she cries, sometimes she just babbles, but always, she's awake and naturally that wakes us up, too.
It has made it tough for me to be motivated to go out and move. Just last Tuesday, after a particularly trying morning when she was awake from 3 am to 6 am, I finally gave up at 6 (after four hours of sleep) and let Kent take care of her while I went to the club. I did strength training only and then came home because Kent needed to go to work.
I decided that, since I was already dressed for exercise, I would go out and do some running. When I got home, however, Kara had fallen asleep. Figures! She was out until almost 9 am.
Finally, though, I strapped her into her jogging stroller--this time with the fleece liner in, as it was fairly cool out--and took off on my run.
I decided to run to Maddy's school and back; that's 5.2 miles in all. My best distance was 4 miles at ths point, so I thought 5.2 miles was a good test.
Little did I know that, despite the lack of sleep, I certainly had my athlete hat on that day. I made the 5.2 miles and still felt fresh! I wasn't moving super fast--it was about a 12.5 minute mile pace--but I felt like I could run forever. So I passed the house on my return trip and kept going the opposite direction.
Finally, after a while, I decided the baby had been out long enough. We'd been gone for an hour and 25 minutes, and I had run the entire time. I never stopped or walked. And later, when I retraced the route in my car, I found that I had run 6.8 miles.
6.8 miles?? That's the kind of distance that marathoners do! I was completely flabbergasted.
And then I realized that, what I had done (despite being exhausted) was to put into place one of my favorite quotes, from M.J. Ryan, which is at the top of this blog:
"Act like the person you want to be."
I was lying in bed, feeling tired and miserable, and though to myself, what would I do if I were an athlete, or someone who was seriously training for a big triathlon?
I'd shake the tiredness off and just go do it. So I did.
And what a result! 6.8 miles.
Doing that run, for the first time, made me feel like an athlete. I felt like a runner, not a jogger. I realized that I had the stamina to do the kind of run that "real" runners do.
And it got me excited. If I could run almost 7 miles, then what else could I do?
That morning, I decided on my big goal for 2008:
I am going to run the Honolulu Marathon in December.
Later that momentous 6.8 mile day, I told Kent my plan. He immediately started talking about logistics (would we all go or just me, where would we stay, etc.), which pleased me to no end. He didn't say no, he didn't pooh-pooh the idea, he didn't tell me I couldn't do it. He simply started to plan ahead to 15 months from now when I line up with God knows how many other people for a 26.2 mile run around Oahu.
Maybe I'm nuts. That's a big goal, and 15 months from now I might even be living in Europe (if Kent or I get a job teaching overseas, as we are thinking of doing). But I have my goal now for the winter. Rather than maintaining my fitness, I'm going to learn how to run long-distance. I am going to become a marathoner.
I can do this.
After all, in 8 days, I'll already be a triathlete!
____________________________________________________________________________
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!
Never in my life have I considered myself an athletic person. Sure, I would ride bikes, swim, skate and skateboard, and even scuba dive--but I never considered myself an athlete. To me, athletes are those people who have something like 0.2% body fat, can run a marathon in fifteen minutes, swim the English Channel on a lazy Saturday, and score perfect 10s in the Olympics.
Nope. Definitely not an athlete here.
But as the CELT Challenge Triathlon looms large in my future--just 8 days away now--I am faced with the very real notion that, when it is over, I will be considered a triathlete.
Me? Not even an athlete, but a triathlete?? That's like lumping me in with those 0.2% bodyfat Olympians that I previously mentioned!
But yet it's coming. And after the past week and months of training, I know that I'm ready.
The past couple days have been tough, though. Baby Kara has been waking up every hour or so starting just after midnight, and spending at least an hour awake between 3-4 in the morning. She cries for her "woobie" (pacifier), she gets up onto her knees, she crawls around, she stands. Sometimes she cries, sometimes she just babbles, but always, she's awake and naturally that wakes us up, too.
It has made it tough for me to be motivated to go out and move. Just last Tuesday, after a particularly trying morning when she was awake from 3 am to 6 am, I finally gave up at 6 (after four hours of sleep) and let Kent take care of her while I went to the club. I did strength training only and then came home because Kent needed to go to work.
I decided that, since I was already dressed for exercise, I would go out and do some running. When I got home, however, Kara had fallen asleep. Figures! She was out until almost 9 am.
Finally, though, I strapped her into her jogging stroller--this time with the fleece liner in, as it was fairly cool out--and took off on my run.
I decided to run to Maddy's school and back; that's 5.2 miles in all. My best distance was 4 miles at ths point, so I thought 5.2 miles was a good test.
Little did I know that, despite the lack of sleep, I certainly had my athlete hat on that day. I made the 5.2 miles and still felt fresh! I wasn't moving super fast--it was about a 12.5 minute mile pace--but I felt like I could run forever. So I passed the house on my return trip and kept going the opposite direction.
Finally, after a while, I decided the baby had been out long enough. We'd been gone for an hour and 25 minutes, and I had run the entire time. I never stopped or walked. And later, when I retraced the route in my car, I found that I had run 6.8 miles.
6.8 miles?? That's the kind of distance that marathoners do! I was completely flabbergasted.
And then I realized that, what I had done (despite being exhausted) was to put into place one of my favorite quotes, from M.J. Ryan, which is at the top of this blog:
"Act like the person you want to be."
I was lying in bed, feeling tired and miserable, and though to myself, what would I do if I were an athlete, or someone who was seriously training for a big triathlon?
I'd shake the tiredness off and just go do it. So I did.
And what a result! 6.8 miles.
Doing that run, for the first time, made me feel like an athlete. I felt like a runner, not a jogger. I realized that I had the stamina to do the kind of run that "real" runners do.
And it got me excited. If I could run almost 7 miles, then what else could I do?
That morning, I decided on my big goal for 2008:
I am going to run the Honolulu Marathon in December.
Later that momentous 6.8 mile day, I told Kent my plan. He immediately started talking about logistics (would we all go or just me, where would we stay, etc.), which pleased me to no end. He didn't say no, he didn't pooh-pooh the idea, he didn't tell me I couldn't do it. He simply started to plan ahead to 15 months from now when I line up with God knows how many other people for a 26.2 mile run around Oahu.
Maybe I'm nuts. That's a big goal, and 15 months from now I might even be living in Europe (if Kent or I get a job teaching overseas, as we are thinking of doing). But I have my goal now for the winter. Rather than maintaining my fitness, I'm going to learn how to run long-distance. I am going to become a marathoner.
I can do this.
After all, in 8 days, I'll already be a triathlete!
____________________________________________________________________________
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!
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
SCORE!!!!!!!!! GOALS!!!!!!!!!!!!!
No, I am not referring to the recent appearance of David Beckham, sans shirt, on the LA Galaxy.
I am referring to the nice little suit I bought this weekend.
It's my new Goal.
David Beckham has nothing to do with it. But I know that his wife, Victoria Beckham (formerly Posh Spice) would TOTALLY approve.
Let me digress.
I started this weight-loss journey at 259.6 pounds, as I have mentioned in a previous blog or two. After months and months of moving and eating properly, I have wound my way down to a new low of 162.5.
I am beyond psyched! Not just at the number, but at the ease of movement and the MUSCLES that have come as a direct result!
The other reason I am psyched is that I have discovered that I have moved far, far, and even more far from my former perception of fashion as being "pointless" and "too expensive".
I LOVE CLOTHES.
Oh God. OK. That is probably the single most Paris-Hilton-like statement I have EVER made in my life. But oh my gosh! I have a figure!
(And, as I told Kent...I know how to use it!!)
So I have been having the best time, not just buying new clothes, but finding clothes that are cute AND completely, totally inexpensive.
It started with moving beyond my former "skinny" jeans that were size 16 "Elizabeth" jeans from the Liz Claiborne for Women line.
I became a size 14, and suddenly I needed new jeans. I went to the Elizabeth outlet at Kittery, Maine, where I always bought my jeans, and found to my delight that size 14 was as small as they went.
This became my new goal: move out of Elizabeth clothing. Not only did I want to be a 12, I wanted to wear a size medium as well.
My goals all along have been the next ten pound increment (as measured by breaking into the nines--like 229, 219, 209, 199, and so forth), and the next size down in clothing.
I ALWAYS write my goals down. I found a long time ago that if you write it down, you make it real. I have found that every goal I've written (except the most recent), I have met.
Every one.
So my goal when I hit 14 was to get to a 12, and to move from a Large to a Medium. And when I did, I vowed to find a way to buy some cute clothes, despite being a stay-at-home-mom with little income.
Size 12 occurred this past June, just before we headed to California. To my surprise, the Medium came with it.
So cool!
So I bought some great $19 "Adirondack" jeans from L.L. Bean (which were wicked soft and comfy), and a cute white pima cotton shirt for $16, both of which ended up being free because I had coupons worth $40 for L.L. Bean. I found some new shirts on clearance at Macy's, and I also got a size 12 cute blue-with-white-polka-dots skirt and some khakis when the New York & Co store at my local mall went out of business. Those I got at 75% off, so they were each around $7.
I wore those clothes all summer, and boy I felt great!
But an odd thing happened. Of course, being in 12s and Mediums meant my next written goal was 10s and smalls.
And guess what happened in California?
I may not have budged past 165 the last three weeks I was there, but my size changed. I went from a 12 to a 10, and from a Medium to a small.
I am a small.
Oh.
My.
God.
WHAT a shock!
I celebrated by going to Target and splurging by spending $20 to buy a cute khaki skirt in a size 10, and then I also got a couple shirts (Mossimo striped polo, that was a size Large because that line is very tight, marked down to $2.50 on the sale rack, and a small white short-sleeved sweater marked down to $5 and change, also on the sale rack).
I also had to buy a belt for my 12 Khakis that no longer stayed up on their own. Marked down to $3.50 on the sale rack.
The other surprise about being a smaller size--there are lots of options for sale clothing on those perennial sales racks in stores like Target!
Cool.
I cannot go any further than Small, but I did make a new goal: Size 8.
And my inspiration?
That suit I bought...
I have discovered that not all clothes are available at malls. There is Target, and its sales racks; there are outlet malls (of which we have several in Maine); and, there are secondary sites, like eBay-types and consignment stores, all of which have some really killer deals, especially if you are a size small.
Like the suit I bought.
In a size 8.
So what kind of suit is it?
It's beautiful. Red, I think it's a wool blend because it's a warmer suit. The jacket is so cool, it has a little swishy skirty-like bottom to it, and the skirt is a "pencil" skirt that flows over the hips and hugs the legs and makes you look like a total Diva.
And it's a size 8. I can put it on, but I cannot quite button it up yet, but I vow to.
Because I got it for $10.
And it's a Christian Dior.
Oh.
My.
God.
I got a CHRISTIAN DIOR "The Suit" for $10!!!
I could not believe it when I stumbled across it.
Do NOT ask me where. I won't tell. ;) That's my secret.
But it made me think, perhaps there is another one out there somewhere?
Score #2 this past Tuesday:
A Christian Dior suit jacket (sadly, no skirt), but the jacket is super long, below the hips, and it's a more traditional suit fabric. Black, and beautiful...and I look like I have Sophia Loren's body in it. I mean, I have these beautiful, sexy-as-hell curves that would make J.Lo jealous!
And it's already my size!
It would look totally killer with a long, pleated, wide skirt. I didn't find one of those, at least one that even came close to someday fitting me. I could also wear it witha pair of tan pleated trousers, which I already have. It actually even looked totally awesome with my khaki shorts.
And I got that jacket for less than $7.
I also got another pair of L.L.Bean jeans, a pair of Calvin Klein jeans (OH MY GOD, Calvin Klein??), a United Colors of Benetton suit jacket in a dark slate blue, and a really killer leather cropped jacket that looks all worn in and has a neat brass-buckled belt on it, which looks like something Angelina Jolie would wear (not that I even LIKE her, but it's that type, sexy and feminine but edgy, like I'm about to leap on a Kawasaki Ninja ZX-14!). The brand name on that jacket is "Compagnie Internationale EXPRESS" (in a size small), not that I even know what that brand is.
Oh and I also got a pair of Aeropostale khaki pants as well.
I got some other stuff but those were the highlights.
The cost? Everything was less than $15 each. Even the jacket.
Beautiful clothes are so much fun, and these consignment shops are such a blast. You can find some amazing things if you spend the time to look. And I am a hunter. I have developed into one after almost two decades as a morbidly obese woman, because if you are that size, you HAVE to hunt to find things that not only fit, but look presentable.
Now, I can look more than presentable.
So watch out, new goal. I have a hot little red Christian Dior that has my name on it.
Have a fabulous evening, and remember:
"To accomplish great things, we must not only act but also dream. Not only plan but also believe." - Anatole France
__________________________________________________________________________________
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!
I am referring to the nice little suit I bought this weekend.
It's my new Goal.
David Beckham has nothing to do with it. But I know that his wife, Victoria Beckham (formerly Posh Spice) would TOTALLY approve.
Let me digress.
I started this weight-loss journey at 259.6 pounds, as I have mentioned in a previous blog or two. After months and months of moving and eating properly, I have wound my way down to a new low of 162.5.
I am beyond psyched! Not just at the number, but at the ease of movement and the MUSCLES that have come as a direct result!
The other reason I am psyched is that I have discovered that I have moved far, far, and even more far from my former perception of fashion as being "pointless" and "too expensive".
I LOVE CLOTHES.
Oh God. OK. That is probably the single most Paris-Hilton-like statement I have EVER made in my life. But oh my gosh! I have a figure!
(And, as I told Kent...I know how to use it!!)
So I have been having the best time, not just buying new clothes, but finding clothes that are cute AND completely, totally inexpensive.
It started with moving beyond my former "skinny" jeans that were size 16 "Elizabeth" jeans from the Liz Claiborne for Women line.
I became a size 14, and suddenly I needed new jeans. I went to the Elizabeth outlet at Kittery, Maine, where I always bought my jeans, and found to my delight that size 14 was as small as they went.
This became my new goal: move out of Elizabeth clothing. Not only did I want to be a 12, I wanted to wear a size medium as well.
My goals all along have been the next ten pound increment (as measured by breaking into the nines--like 229, 219, 209, 199, and so forth), and the next size down in clothing.
I ALWAYS write my goals down. I found a long time ago that if you write it down, you make it real. I have found that every goal I've written (except the most recent), I have met.
Every one.
So my goal when I hit 14 was to get to a 12, and to move from a Large to a Medium. And when I did, I vowed to find a way to buy some cute clothes, despite being a stay-at-home-mom with little income.
Size 12 occurred this past June, just before we headed to California. To my surprise, the Medium came with it.
So cool!
So I bought some great $19 "Adirondack" jeans from L.L. Bean (which were wicked soft and comfy), and a cute white pima cotton shirt for $16, both of which ended up being free because I had coupons worth $40 for L.L. Bean. I found some new shirts on clearance at Macy's, and I also got a size 12 cute blue-with-white-polka-dots skirt and some khakis when the New York & Co store at my local mall went out of business. Those I got at 75% off, so they were each around $7.
I wore those clothes all summer, and boy I felt great!
But an odd thing happened. Of course, being in 12s and Mediums meant my next written goal was 10s and smalls.
And guess what happened in California?
I may not have budged past 165 the last three weeks I was there, but my size changed. I went from a 12 to a 10, and from a Medium to a small.
I am a small.
Oh.
My.
God.
WHAT a shock!
I celebrated by going to Target and splurging by spending $20 to buy a cute khaki skirt in a size 10, and then I also got a couple shirts (Mossimo striped polo, that was a size Large because that line is very tight, marked down to $2.50 on the sale rack, and a small white short-sleeved sweater marked down to $5 and change, also on the sale rack).
I also had to buy a belt for my 12 Khakis that no longer stayed up on their own. Marked down to $3.50 on the sale rack.
The other surprise about being a smaller size--there are lots of options for sale clothing on those perennial sales racks in stores like Target!
Cool.
I cannot go any further than Small, but I did make a new goal: Size 8.
And my inspiration?
That suit I bought...
I have discovered that not all clothes are available at malls. There is Target, and its sales racks; there are outlet malls (of which we have several in Maine); and, there are secondary sites, like eBay-types and consignment stores, all of which have some really killer deals, especially if you are a size small.
Like the suit I bought.
In a size 8.
So what kind of suit is it?
It's beautiful. Red, I think it's a wool blend because it's a warmer suit. The jacket is so cool, it has a little swishy skirty-like bottom to it, and the skirt is a "pencil" skirt that flows over the hips and hugs the legs and makes you look like a total Diva.
And it's a size 8. I can put it on, but I cannot quite button it up yet, but I vow to.
Because I got it for $10.
And it's a Christian Dior.
Oh.
My.
God.
I got a CHRISTIAN DIOR "The Suit" for $10!!!
I could not believe it when I stumbled across it.
Do NOT ask me where. I won't tell. ;) That's my secret.
But it made me think, perhaps there is another one out there somewhere?
Score #2 this past Tuesday:
A Christian Dior suit jacket (sadly, no skirt), but the jacket is super long, below the hips, and it's a more traditional suit fabric. Black, and beautiful...and I look like I have Sophia Loren's body in it. I mean, I have these beautiful, sexy-as-hell curves that would make J.Lo jealous!
And it's already my size!
It would look totally killer with a long, pleated, wide skirt. I didn't find one of those, at least one that even came close to someday fitting me. I could also wear it witha pair of tan pleated trousers, which I already have. It actually even looked totally awesome with my khaki shorts.
And I got that jacket for less than $7.
I also got another pair of L.L.Bean jeans, a pair of Calvin Klein jeans (OH MY GOD, Calvin Klein??), a United Colors of Benetton suit jacket in a dark slate blue, and a really killer leather cropped jacket that looks all worn in and has a neat brass-buckled belt on it, which looks like something Angelina Jolie would wear (not that I even LIKE her, but it's that type, sexy and feminine but edgy, like I'm about to leap on a Kawasaki Ninja ZX-14!). The brand name on that jacket is "Compagnie Internationale EXPRESS" (in a size small), not that I even know what that brand is.
Oh and I also got a pair of Aeropostale khaki pants as well.
I got some other stuff but those were the highlights.
The cost? Everything was less than $15 each. Even the jacket.
Beautiful clothes are so much fun, and these consignment shops are such a blast. You can find some amazing things if you spend the time to look. And I am a hunter. I have developed into one after almost two decades as a morbidly obese woman, because if you are that size, you HAVE to hunt to find things that not only fit, but look presentable.
Now, I can look more than presentable.
So watch out, new goal. I have a hot little red Christian Dior that has my name on it.
Have a fabulous evening, and remember:
"To accomplish great things, we must not only act but also dream. Not only plan but also believe." - Anatole France
__________________________________________________________________________________
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!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)