(1) This massive appellate brief business, having taken the lion's share of my attention and time this week, has meant that I have not gotten to the gym at all, and only spent half an hour at a leisurely pace on the treadmill in the basement, which I hate doing for a number of reasons, not the least of which is I have to stare at unwashed laundry and assorted kid and husband clutter to do it.
(2) This complete lack of exercise has translated into a complete lack of energy and patience on my part. I have also noticed the physical symptoms of stress more acutely than usual, like a tight back and shoulders and headaches.
(3) I miss the gym. Mark this day in history. I miss it because I miss having time to myself in a place where noone bothers me, and I can take a shower in peace, with warm towels to dry off with, and I can focus on myself and my needs.
(4) On a positive note, I've been eating well and sticking to my plan and haven't dived head first into a vat of chocolate, even with the massive stress I've been under.
(5) This brief is due on Tuesday, but it's close to being done, and if I can swing it I'll be shipping it out before then, because I need to run, or bike, or elliptical, or row, or something.
Friday, January 21, 2011
Friday, January 14, 2011
Friday Five: Fatigue Edition
(1) The intervals in the Bingham plan are good; four days a week plus two days a week cross training are not. I feel like I've been run over by a Mack truck. I think I'll ramp back to three days a week of run/walking.
(2) I'll probably do three days of cross training (bike, rowing, and elliptical probably) and see if that helps. If not, I'll drop back to 2 cross training days and have 2 rest days.
(3) Depending on how (1) and (2) go, I may be reassessing my spring schedule. It seemed a little ambitious on paper to do a half by May, and that may prove to be doubly so in reality. Also, a very good friend of mine from church wants to step outside her comfort zone and complete a sprint duathlon in June; she wants me to do it with her and I can't think of a better way to spend a spring day.
(4) The other thing I'm realizing is that I probably need fewer races in the spring/summer/fall to keep me motivated. I've been exercising 3-4 times per week for almost a year now, and I think that's become a permanent habit. I don't think I'll need as much external motivation.
(5) Yes, I've been eating enough and hydrating well.
(2) I'll probably do three days of cross training (bike, rowing, and elliptical probably) and see if that helps. If not, I'll drop back to 2 cross training days and have 2 rest days.
(3) Depending on how (1) and (2) go, I may be reassessing my spring schedule. It seemed a little ambitious on paper to do a half by May, and that may prove to be doubly so in reality. Also, a very good friend of mine from church wants to step outside her comfort zone and complete a sprint duathlon in June; she wants me to do it with her and I can't think of a better way to spend a spring day.
(4) The other thing I'm realizing is that I probably need fewer races in the spring/summer/fall to keep me motivated. I've been exercising 3-4 times per week for almost a year now, and I think that's become a permanent habit. I don't think I'll need as much external motivation.
(5) Yes, I've been eating enough and hydrating well.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Metrics: January 9, 2011
5 miles.
80.30 minutes.
16.05 minute/mile.
13.6 pounds gone.
9.7 pounds until my 10% body weight goal.
1.6 pounds per week average loss.
6 weeks until I meet my 10% body weight goal.
$387.50 in the road bike fund.
80.30 minutes.
16.05 minute/mile.
13.6 pounds gone.
9.7 pounds until my 10% body weight goal.
1.6 pounds per week average loss.
6 weeks until I meet my 10% body weight goal.
$387.50 in the road bike fund.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Three Things Thursday
(1) I've settled on a training plan for the St. Jude Marathon. It's from "Marathoning for Mortals" by John Bingham, affectionately known as The Penguin for his slow pace and penguinlike stride. Since Mr. Bingham has lost 80 pounds, written many books, and was a long time columnist for Runner Magazine, it seems clear that speed or lack thereof is no deterrent to being known for your athletic tendencies.
(2) I'm combining the plan from John Bingham with a bunch of stuff I learned from Danny Dreyer's book ChiRunning. At first, the idea sounds a little woo-woo, but the idea is to basically be a mindful runner, land on the forefoot with a slight forward lean, and focus on form first, then distance, then speed. It seems to be working.
(3) I'm down 5 percent of my body weight. In about 4 weeks, I should be down 10 percent of my starting body weight. I should also be in a size twelve jeans. I think the last time I wore a size 12 was in college. No, I know the last time I wore a size 12 was in college. Also, I can feel my abdominal muscles under my pudge for the first time -- hm, since I was pregnant and I had baby feet pushing against my uterus. Before that? How about never.
(4) Yes, I know it's Three Things Thursday, cut me some slack, I'm chatty today. I'm a big believer in celebrating small successes along the way to a big goal. In the past, I'd celebrate with food. Now, I celebrate by treating myself to something that will encourage me a little closer to my big goal. My treat for my first 5k was a Camelbak Alterra hydration waistpack. I already had a hydration backpack, but it does not fit particularly well over my ample bosom. Sweetness loved his, and so now I have one. There are benefits to having a gear junkie for a husband.
(2) I'm combining the plan from John Bingham with a bunch of stuff I learned from Danny Dreyer's book ChiRunning. At first, the idea sounds a little woo-woo, but the idea is to basically be a mindful runner, land on the forefoot with a slight forward lean, and focus on form first, then distance, then speed. It seems to be working.
(3) I'm down 5 percent of my body weight. In about 4 weeks, I should be down 10 percent of my starting body weight. I should also be in a size twelve jeans. I think the last time I wore a size 12 was in college. No, I know the last time I wore a size 12 was in college. Also, I can feel my abdominal muscles under my pudge for the first time -- hm, since I was pregnant and I had baby feet pushing against my uterus. Before that? How about never.
(4) Yes, I know it's Three Things Thursday, cut me some slack, I'm chatty today. I'm a big believer in celebrating small successes along the way to a big goal. In the past, I'd celebrate with food. Now, I celebrate by treating myself to something that will encourage me a little closer to my big goal. My treat for my first 5k was a Camelbak Alterra hydration waistpack. I already had a hydration backpack, but it does not fit particularly well over my ample bosom. Sweetness loved his, and so now I have one. There are benefits to having a gear junkie for a husband.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Athena
Today, the weather is more genuinely Wisconsin: bitter cold with a biting wind. If 2010 was out like a lamb, 2011 is in like a lion -- a really mad lion.
Speaking of change, I worked really hard on it in 2010 and anticipate more of the same in 2011. It's interesting, though, how change will ripple and spread into places one doesn't expect.
In 2010, I got really tired of being tired. My doctor thought it had a lot to do with weight (too much) and exercise (too little) . I decided I'd work on the exercise piece and the weight thing would fix itself. But it didn't work that way, and it never will, because the same voice that tells you "it's just one muffin" will also add loudly that "you JUST RAN THREE MILES." After eight months of vigorous exercise, I got really REALLY mad that the scale number wasn't going down, and realized I was going to have to (sigh) watch what I eat.
So I joined Weight Watchers. At first, the plan emphasized calorie counting, and just about the time that I was gonna throw in the towel and resign myself to being a slow, chunky fit person, they changed the plan to encourage more whole foods, discourage artificial and processed foods, and basically made fruit and veggies not count for purposes of tracking your food. This made all the difference in my ability to think I could stick to the plan long term, and since I joined I've lost ten pounds and maintained over the holidays. Today I'm back on the bandwagon, and anticipate that I'll be down to my goal weight by summertime.
This brings me to two points. One, given my height (five nine) and my overall build (big boned and muscular), even my goal weight will exceed my husband's weight, and I will never look "willowy" or "lithe" nor will I ever leave the athletic category designed for big women: Athena. While there's something cool about being in the same category as the Greek goddess of war and strategy, I must admit it's discouraging to know that a healthy weight for me would still classify me as "fat" among athletes.
Which brings me to my next point, which is, I don't know if it's the nature of being me or the nature of being human, but it seems that when I decided to change myself, to set boundaries and goals for myself, to do things in my own best interest, I get encouragement from people I don't expect (which is great) but I also catch a lot of flack from people I don't expect (which stinks). As a woman, it's hard to do the right thing for yourself, to set goals and meet them, to run farther and faster than you ever have in your life, and then learn that people (especially other women) are threatened by it, want to sabotage you, or question your motivations, or even your sanity, and then, on top of THAT, to know that even when you meet your goal, you'll still . . . well, weigh more than the average man. To know that you can also probably chick the average man is kind of cold comfort.
I know that names have meaning, and I don't think that there could be a better name for a class of big, strong, and athletic women than Athena. I am honored to be one. I guess I just wish I had Athena's self-assurance too.
Speaking of change, I worked really hard on it in 2010 and anticipate more of the same in 2011. It's interesting, though, how change will ripple and spread into places one doesn't expect.
In 2010, I got really tired of being tired. My doctor thought it had a lot to do with weight (too much) and exercise (too little) . I decided I'd work on the exercise piece and the weight thing would fix itself. But it didn't work that way, and it never will, because the same voice that tells you "it's just one muffin" will also add loudly that "you JUST RAN THREE MILES." After eight months of vigorous exercise, I got really REALLY mad that the scale number wasn't going down, and realized I was going to have to (sigh) watch what I eat.
So I joined Weight Watchers. At first, the plan emphasized calorie counting, and just about the time that I was gonna throw in the towel and resign myself to being a slow, chunky fit person, they changed the plan to encourage more whole foods, discourage artificial and processed foods, and basically made fruit and veggies not count for purposes of tracking your food. This made all the difference in my ability to think I could stick to the plan long term, and since I joined I've lost ten pounds and maintained over the holidays. Today I'm back on the bandwagon, and anticipate that I'll be down to my goal weight by summertime.
This brings me to two points. One, given my height (five nine) and my overall build (big boned and muscular), even my goal weight will exceed my husband's weight, and I will never look "willowy" or "lithe" nor will I ever leave the athletic category designed for big women: Athena. While there's something cool about being in the same category as the Greek goddess of war and strategy, I must admit it's discouraging to know that a healthy weight for me would still classify me as "fat" among athletes.
Which brings me to my next point, which is, I don't know if it's the nature of being me or the nature of being human, but it seems that when I decided to change myself, to set boundaries and goals for myself, to do things in my own best interest, I get encouragement from people I don't expect (which is great) but I also catch a lot of flack from people I don't expect (which stinks). As a woman, it's hard to do the right thing for yourself, to set goals and meet them, to run farther and faster than you ever have in your life, and then learn that people (especially other women) are threatened by it, want to sabotage you, or question your motivations, or even your sanity, and then, on top of THAT, to know that even when you meet your goal, you'll still . . . well, weigh more than the average man. To know that you can also probably chick the average man is kind of cold comfort.
I know that names have meaning, and I don't think that there could be a better name for a class of big, strong, and athletic women than Athena. I am honored to be one. I guess I just wish I had Athena's self-assurance too.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Run Into the New Year 5k, West Allis, WI
What can I say about a New Year's Eve race in Wisconsin where I didn't have to wear a hat or gloves, or even a long sleeved shirt? All I can say is, I think the unseasonably warm weather today in the Milwaukee metro area (55 degrees!!! Seriously!!!) was a direct result of my running in below freezing weather two weeks ago to test out my gear. If I hadn't done it, well, it would have been freezing, so since I did it, God laughed at my plans and gave me drizzly warm weather. So, to the other 1900 or so participants who were the direct beneficiaries of my pre-planning: you're so very welcome.
But I digress. It was unseasonably warm, and so I wore the usual: running capris, a singlet, and the fivefingers with toesy socks. I tied a running jacket around my waist just in case. We left the house and got to the race about 30 minutes early. The pre and post run activities are held inside one of the exhibition halls at the State Fair Park -- including allllll the portapotties -- so when we walked in to get our timing chips, we were assaulted by the smell of . . . uh, Wisconsin's wonderful "dairy air." We stood around waiting for the race to start and saw, along with my dear husband's paper New Year's hat, a Viking helmet, a woman wearing a bridal veil (15th wedding anniversary!) and a Kermit the Frog stocking hat (admiring the headgear at these races is a good way to pass the time).
Five minutes prior to the start, we went outside to the seeding corrals. Sweetness and I found the "open seeding: all runners" corral and lined up in the back. Not too many walkers in the "all walkers" corral behind us, to my slight dismay.
The starting gun went off, which meant we had about 3 minutes of walking before we crossed the chip timing mat, but once we did, Sweetness started pacing me on the one minute run/walk pace we'd discussed. The first mile went quicker than I'd expected, probably because, as Sweetness told me later, my stride was a little longer than usual. And also, because I wanted to at LEAST finish faster than the people who were doing the race on motorized scooters. Yes, for real, I'm not kidding.
So we knew by mile 2 we (meaning I, because poor Sweetness, who ran it right by my side, was at half his normal running pace) needed to slow down a bit. We altered the run/walk intervals to 1 minute run/2 minute walk for mile 2. By mile 2, the really really fast people were finishing the 5k, and also, some of the really really fast people running the 10k (two loops of the 5k) were starting to pass us. Also, it is apparently my pattern that at about the halfway point of any athletic event I
get really irritable and negative, even if I've done the distance before in training. Don't know why, haven't a clue, but because poor Sweetness was there (and obviously bored, because he was practically going in reverse in the Sweetness time/space continuum) for about a quarter mile, the conversation went thusly:
Sweetness: "Okay, time to run again. Oh, wow, that guy looks really tired. Hey, aren't those the other kind of minimalist shoe you were telling me about? Aw, what a cute couple up ahead. Hey, let's see if we can pass them. "
Me: (hissing) "Talk less. You need to talk less. How much more running?"
Sweetness: "Thirty seconds."
Me: "That is appropriate (pant) and helpful talking. More (pant) of that kind of talking."
Sweetness: (oblivious to my minor discomfort) "Okay!!! ten seconds left."
And so on. Until mile three.
My mile 2 time was slower, right on target, so I thought we would do thirty/ninety, and I'd finish pretty strong. Mile three was also on target, and due to the weirdness of the course, we crossed the path of my sweet ten year old stepson, who was running the 10k.
Now, apropos of nothing, though I love my stepsons dearly, my stepson's mother and I . . . well, there's never been much love lost between the two of us. And of course, Mommie Dearest (yeah, it's accurate) was there with Sweet Stepson and probably waiting at the end of the course, and would rush Sweet Stepson and my other two stepsons far far away from us as quickly as possible, so as not to have to, you know, actually behave like an adult and allow my Sweetness to see his sons. This hurts my husband tremendously . And so, I cannot tell you how much this was suddenly harshing my mellow. Well, you can probably guess.
On the other hand, I am not one for letting mean people harsh on my mellow for too long. And by the last quarter mile of mile 3, I'd devised a plan. Heh.
I saved up what spring I had left in my step for the last .1 of the course, the last turn before the finish chute, and came around the corner, not sprinting, but not jogging either, a nice smooth stride, and smiling. Silly Stepson was standing at the finish, swinging a cowbell (as I am sure he had done for the entirety of the race). I yelled his name, and he looked up, confused. I couldn't help but laugh -- Silly Stepson is not known for the quick draw -- and I ran past Mommie Dearest commenting on how surprised Silly appeared to be to see me . . . running. Heh.
I crossed the timing mat -- couldn't suppress a primal yell -- then told Sweetness to find Sweet Stepson on the last quarter mile of the course and run the chute with him. Thus, I got to finish my 5k with my husband, scream my head off for my stepson and my husband, my husband got to run the finish with his son, and I got to irritate my husband's ex-wife and go home with my sweet husband next to me . Win/win/win/win/WIN.
All in 47 minutes and some change. Not bad for a Friday afternoon.
But I digress. It was unseasonably warm, and so I wore the usual: running capris, a singlet, and the fivefingers with toesy socks. I tied a running jacket around my waist just in case. We left the house and got to the race about 30 minutes early. The pre and post run activities are held inside one of the exhibition halls at the State Fair Park -- including allllll the portapotties -- so when we walked in to get our timing chips, we were assaulted by the smell of . . . uh, Wisconsin's wonderful "dairy air." We stood around waiting for the race to start and saw, along with my dear husband's paper New Year's hat, a Viking helmet, a woman wearing a bridal veil (15th wedding anniversary!) and a Kermit the Frog stocking hat (admiring the headgear at these races is a good way to pass the time).
Five minutes prior to the start, we went outside to the seeding corrals. Sweetness and I found the "open seeding: all runners" corral and lined up in the back. Not too many walkers in the "all walkers" corral behind us, to my slight dismay.
The starting gun went off, which meant we had about 3 minutes of walking before we crossed the chip timing mat, but once we did, Sweetness started pacing me on the one minute run/walk pace we'd discussed. The first mile went quicker than I'd expected, probably because, as Sweetness told me later, my stride was a little longer than usual. And also, because I wanted to at LEAST finish faster than the people who were doing the race on motorized scooters. Yes, for real, I'm not kidding.
So we knew by mile 2 we (meaning I, because poor Sweetness, who ran it right by my side, was at half his normal running pace) needed to slow down a bit. We altered the run/walk intervals to 1 minute run/2 minute walk for mile 2. By mile 2, the really really fast people were finishing the 5k, and also, some of the really really fast people running the 10k (two loops of the 5k) were starting to pass us. Also, it is apparently my pattern that at about the halfway point of any athletic event I
get really irritable and negative, even if I've done the distance before in training. Don't know why, haven't a clue, but because poor Sweetness was there (and obviously bored, because he was practically going in reverse in the Sweetness time/space continuum) for about a quarter mile, the conversation went thusly:
Sweetness: "Okay, time to run again. Oh, wow, that guy looks really tired. Hey, aren't those the other kind of minimalist shoe you were telling me about? Aw, what a cute couple up ahead. Hey, let's see if we can pass them. "
Me: (hissing) "Talk less. You need to talk less. How much more running?"
Sweetness: "Thirty seconds."
Me: "That is appropriate (pant) and helpful talking. More (pant) of that kind of talking."
Sweetness: (oblivious to my minor discomfort) "Okay!!! ten seconds left."
And so on. Until mile three.
My mile 2 time was slower, right on target, so I thought we would do thirty/ninety, and I'd finish pretty strong. Mile three was also on target, and due to the weirdness of the course, we crossed the path of my sweet ten year old stepson, who was running the 10k.
Now, apropos of nothing, though I love my stepsons dearly, my stepson's mother and I . . . well, there's never been much love lost between the two of us. And of course, Mommie Dearest (yeah, it's accurate) was there with Sweet Stepson and probably waiting at the end of the course, and would rush Sweet Stepson and my other two stepsons far far away from us as quickly as possible, so as not to have to, you know, actually behave like an adult and allow my Sweetness to see his sons. This hurts my husband tremendously . And so, I cannot tell you how much this was suddenly harshing my mellow. Well, you can probably guess.
On the other hand, I am not one for letting mean people harsh on my mellow for too long. And by the last quarter mile of mile 3, I'd devised a plan. Heh.
I saved up what spring I had left in my step for the last .1 of the course, the last turn before the finish chute, and came around the corner, not sprinting, but not jogging either, a nice smooth stride, and smiling. Silly Stepson was standing at the finish, swinging a cowbell (as I am sure he had done for the entirety of the race). I yelled his name, and he looked up, confused. I couldn't help but laugh -- Silly Stepson is not known for the quick draw -- and I ran past Mommie Dearest commenting on how surprised Silly appeared to be to see me . . . running. Heh.
I crossed the timing mat -- couldn't suppress a primal yell -- then told Sweetness to find Sweet Stepson on the last quarter mile of the course and run the chute with him. Thus, I got to finish my 5k with my husband, scream my head off for my stepson and my husband, my husband got to run the finish with his son, and I got to irritate my husband's ex-wife and go home with my sweet husband next to me . Win/win/win/win/WIN.
All in 47 minutes and some change. Not bad for a Friday afternoon.
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Three Things Thursday: December 30, 2010
(1) I am now the proud owner of three, count them, three pairs of Vibram Fivefingers. I believe that takes me out of the "enthusiast" category and places me squarely in the "crazy" category. It definitely places me in the "I have more Fivefingers than Sweetness" category, which makes him insanely jealous.
(2) I am also the proud owner of five (yes five) new pairs of toe socks. Three are Injinji (rainbow stripey!), two are Walgreens knock-offs with monkeys and sunflowers and black argyle. I heart them all. My eight year old daughter got hers from Santa. She hearts hers too. She's asked when she can have "toesies" (meaning Fivefingers). The kid already has a wetsuit for the triathlon she's doing in July. Oh, what have I DONE??????????
(3) I am also in possession of a super cool headlamp with a night vision setting. Which means Sweetness will probably soon drag me into Operation Hardcore: Phase Two -- Running in the Dark. With a headlamp. I wish I had known earlier in my life how much being active makes me feel like a total superhero, what with the technical gear and gadgets. A slow, chunky, middle-aged superhero, but a superhero nevertheless.
(4) Yes, this is a bonus. Tomorrow's the 5k. My stepson, who is 10, will be running the 10k. He'll probably finish the same time as me. Ah, youth is wasted on the young.
(2) I am also the proud owner of five (yes five) new pairs of toe socks. Three are Injinji (rainbow stripey!), two are Walgreens knock-offs with monkeys and sunflowers and black argyle. I heart them all. My eight year old daughter got hers from Santa. She hearts hers too. She's asked when she can have "toesies" (meaning Fivefingers). The kid already has a wetsuit for the triathlon she's doing in July. Oh, what have I DONE??????????
(3) I am also in possession of a super cool headlamp with a night vision setting. Which means Sweetness will probably soon drag me into Operation Hardcore: Phase Two -- Running in the Dark. With a headlamp. I wish I had known earlier in my life how much being active makes me feel like a total superhero, what with the technical gear and gadgets. A slow, chunky, middle-aged superhero, but a superhero nevertheless.
(4) Yes, this is a bonus. Tomorrow's the 5k. My stepson, who is 10, will be running the 10k. He'll probably finish the same time as me. Ah, youth is wasted on the young.
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