Who Wears Short Shorts?

Not me. In fact, I’m thinking I’m at that special age in a girl’s life when she stops wearing shorts. A few years ago (and a few pounds ago) I thought it might be that time, but then the getting in shape/weightloss brouhaha shook down this year and I was hopeful that just maybe, just perhaps it was time. My legs and saggy thighs would look amazing and I would be able to wear those five to seven inch inseams…

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Specimen number one is a size 14 denim number with a five inch inseam purchaser from Old Navy. Five inches seemed like the right idea, until my butt seemed grow a few inches in these things. They definitely brought out that nice, wide mom-butt look that the 40-year-old-mom set is looking for. Eye roll. Specimen number one proves my point- I look awful in shorts that are long enough to cover my inner thigh droopiness.

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Specimen number two are also a size 14 from Old Navy. This time round I went with the daring three inch inseam on some olive colored cargo shorts. From a distance, I’m all like SCORE! the fit is good, the length doesn’t widen my booty… But then there’s this when you get up close:
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You’re welcome for not making that full sized. I think I’m sticking with capris and skirts this summer.
***
Today was a loooong day. Regular school stuff topped with a staff meeting followed by a track meet and finally life at home with children. I wanted to cry when I realized I had to make dinner when I got home. Life can be so unfair.
Anyhow, got home, helped my dear husband make some quick vittles and decided to spend some
time outdoors by way of tending my garden. With headphones. Playing New Kids. At one point this very cheesy but sincere NKOTB song came on and it was about going out with a bang. I got all excited and pumped that I am doing that- I’m starting the second half of my life strong so I can do it without compromising more than I really have to. Then I wanted to skip and run all over the yard so I decided to go for a run and ran my fastest mile in a while of 9:54! Yahoo! It was really fun. Sure ended my night with a bang, too! >

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Twang: A Story of Excuses

On Saturday morning I woke up, like usual, got out of bed, like usual, and when I got undressed to get dressed, I took off my shirt, like usual. Which means I invert it over my head and use the opportunity to stretch out my shoulder blades by pressing out against the pressure of the inside of the shirt… Heretofore, my favorite morning stretch.
Except…
On Saturday morning I did it, streeeeetchTWANG! Suddenly my back HURT. Like, all capital letters HURT! Right under my left shoulder blade! YEOWTCH! I stood there for a moment, tried to re-stretch to make… Whatever it was, pop back into place and stop hurting. But it didn’t. I called out to Bradley who helped me limp to the bed (do I sound pathetic, or what?!) and he promptly gave me a back rub. A few hours later, once again, after back rubs, Aleve and the hot tub, I was able to move again. We took it easy over the weekend- just a little running and hiking- and I thought I was good to go.
This morning, there I was, AGAIN, pajamas coming off, streeeetch, and BOOM. I did it again without even thinking about it. It was so bad this morning that I was certain I’d have to go home after my work meeting* to soak and lay around. But again, Aleve, shower, back rub and I was able to drive to work.
So… Today I got home and, after careful consideration, I decided to take a few days off of training. I feel like a wimp, but I’ll feel stupid if I push a little injury into being a big one through bullish behavior.
What am I going to do, then? Well, today we walked about four miles at a fast pace. When I run, I hold my upper body tight and build a lot of painful tension all around my bra. I think this injury is totally related. Boo. Hisssssss. So, for now, I am walking. The whole time today I just kept thinking of how much faster this would go if I ran, or how many more calories I would be burning if I were running. Ah well. Moving is what is most important.
I also started thinking about some of my early days of calorie counting and really careful strategic eating. One of my biggies was no night calories. I could drink tea, diet soda, water or anything with zero calories, but nothing ‘real’. Tonight I brought some herbal tea up with me to the bedroom (another strategy- avoid the kitchen after dinner) and hunkered down upstairs to write and plan the week’s outfits (intentional, busy activity to avoid thinking about food). I’m also trying to dial back the calories, but it’s staff appreciation week this week at my school and they provide the most delicious lunches alllll week. Best week all year.
***
I don’t know about the rest of the country, but here in Washington, we’ve adopted a lovely new teacher evaluation system. While fabulous in theory, and in practice it does make for great reflection, it’s added a genuine amount of stress to many teacher’s lives. If not in the putting together and thinking of the thing, then the stress it causes just by being new, thus, unpredictable.
Anyhow, I had my final evaluation for the year and earned marks that exceeded standard! I can finally let out the breath I’ve been holding all year! I can relax and just enjoy my students while we finish out the year. We may or may not have celebrated with fancy beverages at home after.

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Mother’s Day

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Today I was reminded that I live in an amazingly beautiful place. We hiked through St. Edwards Park again today, just a short 3 miler or thereabouts… But man. I felt like I was in a ‘Visit the Beautiful PNW’ advertisement or something. It’s amazing here… It’s Mother’s Day today, and I was showered with homemade treasures- a cute little pinch pot from Boy and a beautiful optical illusion card from Girl. Jude wrapped the pot in tissue to make it look like a big piece of candy. It was so cute! I had a delicious breakfast served to me, an Indian food feast for dinner, a hike, a run/ walk, I got a pair of jeans, some new capris and even a new purse. I’ve been spoiled rotten today. My family is wonderful. 🙂
Happy Mother’s Day to all moms, moms to be and those who are thinking of motherhood in one way or another.
***
I’m coming clean: I didn’t meet my goals this week.
o______o
I know. There could be worse things and there are definitely some solid reasons for not doing better, so I’m not being too hard on myself, but still. It annoys me that the little things impact the big things. Perhaps it’s the myriad of changes (oh my, changes are afoot, I’ll let you know more about what the hay is happenin’ in the very near future) and it definitely has to do with the stress of my job and family and my crazy emotions of the past week… Lots of reasons. Not excuses.
So, what went well?
I ran about ten miles.
I lost a few pounds.
What didn’t go well?
Three of those miles were on the elliptical.
None of those were for my long run. I skipped my long run!
PMS ended on Friday night, if you know what I mean, and I allow myself to take it easy when that happens, so I skipped my big run yesterday and today we hiked, which was awesome, but it wasn’t running, though we did probably get about a mile of running in with the kids, here and there. I guess that’s the thing to remember, though. It’s okay to take my training as it makes sense. I don’t have to be this perfect model of weightloss and exercise. I’m still doing great. We kept comparing this Mother’s Day to last Mother’s Day and realized how very far we’ve come as a family.
That said, within this paradigm of ‘Tamara Shazam’ that I have created, I’m allowed imperfection and failures and I seem to forget that. I intend to use this space as an opportunity for transparency and, thus, accountability. I don’t want to publicly fail…not that I necessarily failed this week. This site helps keep me in line, but that just means greater accountability, it doesn’t mean perfection.
Ok, I suppose, from that, you get a glimpse into my inner workings, the circular logic arguments I get in with myself. 🙂 When I think about it pragmatically, obviously the training schedule I’m on is a little intense for me. I have to remember I can go slow, listen to my body. That said, I should be trained up, at this point, for this level of intensity. I suppose it’s reasonable to expect that I should try for the same 3-3-3-4 mile schedule again this week with strength training sprinkled throughout. Maybe this week I’ll be successful again like the week before last and I’ll finish strong. Cheers for a healthy week with good intentions!

o

Whiny Wednesday

I like to get my runs done early in the week so they don’t hang over my head. We were busy Monday and Tuesday with various events, so I’m making both of my runs today and tomorrow (I already did one run on Sunday) with my longer run on Saturday.
Yesterday I wanted to run. Today, I wanted nothing more than to not run. But I still did. The first mile was brutal, the second and third were great, but then I decided to challenge myself. I decided to catch up with Bradley and run at his pace for the last quarter mile home. I picked up my pace and picked up my pace and picked up my pace and could not catch the man. I was running my butt off and was not an inch closer to him. Out of breath and wheezing, I asked him if he was trying to draft me. He answered that he was, and I burst into tears. It was not my finest moment, but I cried the rest of the way home about how I could never catch him and it’s so frustrating and wah wah wah. My sweet husband just looked at me and said that this was a hard run at the end of a hard day (first day of common core testing and other insanity) and I sure must be tired. I cried even harder because he is always so nice and even when I want to blame him for something he is always so kind that I can’t ever even believe that he would be mean or mocking!
As a side note, sometimes it stinks to be married to such a good, kind person. I never have a fall guy to take the blame for stuff my brain wants to deny its responsible for. I always have to realize own my own behavior! LOL
Anyhow, I walked in the door feeling defeated. I can’t even understand why. I did it. I ran. I made my training goal. think I’m a leeetle bit moody. Hmmm?

t

Downpour

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Workout one for this week is in the bag. I love those times in life when you force yourself to do something you didn’t really want to do to start with, and it ends up being magical. Today a friend of mine put the all-call out for someone to watch her kids for her while she went to hang some of her artwork. And since her kids are my kids’ favorites, it was easy to say yes and invite them over. After they left, I really wanted to get a run in, and Bradley had already gone while the kids were over, so I told Gigi to get dressed and she would be my buddy. She grudgingly went and put on her gear, and once we got started, she rocketed ahead of me. I tried to keep up with her, but she stayed just beyond the point where we could have a conversation… I was disappointed, having been seeking a bonding opportunity with my daughter, but I understood. I was ten, once, too and I remember my mom forcing me to do stuff. But still. Sniff.
About a mile into the run, she got a stitch in her side and had to walk, and turned to me full of accusing tears. “My side hurts!” She hollered at me. I told her that was fine, we could walk, and she just leaned into me, out her arm around me, and gave in. We walked quietly for a bit, and finally she was ready to run again. Just as we took off, the clouds burst open and started weeping down on us plentifully. The downpour washed away all the grief and hard feelings she was harboring, and suddenly I was running with my baby again; she came alive and we started chattering about Winnie the Pooh and blustery days and how Piglet might fare in our storm. We laughed, we ran, we hopped in puddles and played. By the time we got home, we were steaming, soaked to the bone and feeling alive and full of love! We talked our boys into a short mile around the block, and they came too, donning rubber boots and umbrellas. The rain finally let up right when we saw our house, perfect timing. We ended our workout with a soak in the hot tub and warm jammies for all. I couldn’t be more satisfied with today’s workout.

Success

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I would count this week as a success. I ran as much as I had planned, including not just a four mile run as my ‘long run’ for the week, but actually ran 4.5 miles today.
I’m ending this week feeling strong and capable. I ran 13.6 miles this week, all totaled. I did my strength training, and even discovered that long lost feeling of wanting to run. On Friday, after work, I considered a run in the neighborhood, remembered that Friday was just a weights/strength training day, then instantly I became full of sadness that I wouldn’t be out in the sun, running. I caught myself mourning the run that wouldn’t be and celebrated how much I missed running! That was such a good sign! I felt so proud of my body.
When I started running this week, I also started eating. I more than doubled my mileage from all of the winter weeks where I maxed out at 4-6 miles and the result, for the past few days, was ravenous eating. I was soooo hungry! It would start as soon as I woke up and all day my tummy was gnawing at me- FEED ME SEYMOUR! So I did. I let my gut guide me and I fed it, all week, to keep up with the running. I figured that getting in the condition to earnestly run again was worth the sleeve of Ritz crackers, the m&ms, the almonds, the extra bags of Pop Chips. My nutrition goal this week is to journal twice so I can look more closely at what I’m putting into my body and, generally, get back to some weightlosing eating habits again.
My other goal is to copy the fitness from this week exactly. I need to take three runs of three miles a piece, one run of about four miles, two days of strength training and one day of rest. Tomorrow I’m running three miles with a newer friend of mine. She is faster than me, so hopefully she will be challenged enough to enjoy the run. At the very least we can chatter like chickens for the duration. 😉
***
I had a few celebrations this week for people I know and love.

I want to give a shout out to my friend who approached me on Friday to tell me how she is finished being the fat girl* and she’s been walking every day, she’s lost 16 pounds and she is determined to lose more. She cited me for being her trigger, her inspiration, but I find that ironic since a few years ago she was one of my primary sources of inspiration for my own weight loss project. I felt so proud of her and her courage in owning her project and taking the first steps to becoming her healthiest self.

Another friend of mine shared about how good it feels to fit into her jeans again. You know the ones- you tucked them away in the back of your closet as a depressing reminder of how slender you used to be…? Well, she fits them again. Doesn’t that just feel good? (Actually, I have two friends to whom this story belongs this week!)

An old friend of mine is following her husband’s footsteps (he’s lost about 100 pounds now, I believe) and is going in for a gastric sleeve herself, now. I’m so proud of her for committing to making this change! Cheers for a brighter future with a great jump start!

My cousin has lost 90 pounds in one year after having weightloss surgery! I’m so proud of her stick-to-it-iv-ness after staring in the face of so much adversity and making such a big decision. Amazing, strong woman.

One of my immediate family members has been running races and jogging all over the place whenever the opportunity arises.

I get so proud of people when they start making strides towards their happiest self. And to be clear, when I say happy, I totally equate that with the sense of self these women (and man) share, the healthiness they’ve achieved. As I’ve often said, if you’re fat and happy, please, enjoy. But if you’re fat and unhappy, that’s a hard place to be. Besides, making changes that will make you happier and/or healthier is infinitely more meaningful than just the number of pounds a person has lost.

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*
For years I was the fattest girl in the room, the fattest girl at my place of employment, the fattest one in my family, the fattest one in the circle of friends and I hated it. It was like being slapped in the face when she said that she was done being the fat girl because I totally understood. Even if it’s a false sense of self perception, it’s no fun being the gold standard for fatness that everyone else compares and measures themselves against. The fatness litmus test… I’m proud of my friend for standing up and saying she refuses to be that anymore and that she is being proactive about it. You go girl!!! 🙂

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