Running

I don’t quite understand what is happening with my body right now. I’m not pregnant (yes, I am certain, it is impossible thanks to my OB), but I’m days ‘late’ at this point and my body is acting like I’m in weightloss warrior week, completely skipping the misery of PMS and the aftermath. I’m not complaining. I have been teary- the end of the school year is particularly emotional this year as I truly love, adore and will miss my students terribly. But otherwise… Nada.
I’m embracing it. When I started shedding again this week I started dieting a little better, but I didn’t amp up the workouts or anything. Each day as I step on the scale I’m down a pound. Today the scale couldn’t decide if I was 235 or 234.8. Doesn’t really matter. It’s down, that is all I really care about. So I think next week I’ll amp it up a little more and push some more mileage. See if I can burn some more. Coz know what? I am ten pounds away from my 40 before 40! 225 is the magic number. It looks like I’m going to make it!

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Today we hit the track and I ended up running 4.5. I decided to make sure to do a few things to insure my success:
1. I let Bradley know that at the track I really need to keep my focus. One of the ways to do that is keep music or a podcast playing in my ear so I’m nicely distracted instead of dreading each step or turn of the track.
2. I decided not to count laps. I started my Lovecast (love Dan Savage) and decided I would run until it ended and that would be my mileage. I ended up running a mile more than I planned!
3. I decided to let the idea of ‘training’ go and instead just focused on going. I have a bad habit of apologizing for my speed, as if a 235 pound woman is going to be running consistent nine minute miles. I had a friend tell me what is important is that I’m DOING IT. It doesn’t matter how slow. And 10.5-11.5 minute miles are nothing to be ashamed of.
***
Miles ran: 11.5
Goal: 10
Abs: once!
Goal:3-4 (but this was a soft goal this week)
***
Next week:
Goal: 12 miles
Abs: 3-4

Numbers

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My husband, at his heaviest, was 240pounds. This morning this fact occurred to me- my husband and I now have shared a weight! Three- actually- 240, 239… I know that doesn’t seem like an amazing feat for some, but if you have ever been more than 100 pounds heavier than your spouse you understand that feeling of inequity, a little too reminiscent of the Jack Sprat nursery rhyme..
I think my husband is cute. A babe. To steal from Wayne and Garth, magically babelicious. Now, I know, wife blinders and all, but I seriously look at this man with jaw dropping awe. Often. It’s a weird thing, to walk alongside him through the mall sometimes. People look at him, look at me, back to him, at our kids, again at me, to him… The puzzle has not always been obvious. When people meet him for the first time after knowing me a bit, they often have the reaction of, “Wow! He’s cute!” They always seem surprised… I’ve been called his friend, his sister and, early in our relationship, people were more comfortable putting him and his mother together, rarely assuming he was with me. Such a handsome man would never be with a big, fat girl like me. But he was.
To be absolutely clear- my husband has always adored me and worshipped the ground I walk on, just as I do with him. Between us, there has never been a sense of inequity. It is the outsiders that draw my attention to it. But really, it’s my own bias that allows me to so clearly see what they see. My own insecurities are what make me infer the thought processes of those who rapidly look from one to the other, and I assume the worst. Clearly I need to stop that destructive behavior.
Anyhow, being more than 100 pounds was tough. I remember finally passing the point where I ‘only’ weighed 100 pounds more. And slowly- ever so slowly- the gap is shrinking. Right now we are only 43 pounds different in weight – he is obviously the lower weight. Two months ago, however, he weighed 220. He seemed thin and fit to me. Dashing as ever. That is only 16 pounds away from where I stand today. Granted, I’m 4 inches shorter than his 6’1″, but still, I never thought I’d see the day again.
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Ross is my store. I can take a risk on a dress or pants and only spend 15.00. And the Ross by my house? Bomb. No one goes there (but those of us who do make up for it with the volume we buy) , always stocked, usually awesome. We went today to pick up another shape wear running tank* and as long as I was there… Size 14 people. I can’t even… And every 16 I tried on fit! I turned around with the gray dress on and asked if Gigi thought there was any chance at all it might zip. She answered by zipping it up in one smooth stroke. I was last in a 14 at the tender age of 18. A 16 soon thereafter. Of course I had to bring them home. Both dresses bagged for 35.00. BOOM!
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I have found that when I run my belly flops around and hurts. You know how most women need a running/sports bra? Yeah. I need a torso bra. Like one of those bras that cars wore in the eighties. Remember those? What was up with that?! Anyhow, I have found that shapewear does for my tummy what bras do for ‘the girls’! At first I felt stupid for adding another sweaty layer, then I went running once without it. Ouch. My skin hangs down, but it has mass on the end of it- imagine a hammock. It really can shake so it needs to be controlled. Shapewear. One of my workout secrets. Nuff said.
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Yes, I’m obsessed with the comparisons. Thank you for humoring* me.

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I’m getting shapelier. Looks like slightly perkier too- like skin is shrinking. That is nice. 🙂
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*When I typed ‘humoring’, autocorrect changed it to ‘hump ring’. Where does it come up with these things?!

I Do Run Run

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Goals:
Miles – 6.3
Goal- 10
Abs- 0
Goal- 3 (4 for the goodie)

I am clean tuckered. It is a crazy work week, I think I’m going to go ahead and forgive the negligent abs this week. I’m not saying I’m giving up, I’m saying I’m not going to worry if I only get two workouts in. Or one.
***
I’ve had a bit of a struggle lately. I get doubtful sometimes and over-think things to the point of worry and I start brooding. Usually it’s about my interpersonal relationships, and when I get broody like that I start to sabotage myself. I think that is what happened this weekend. I was not making poor choices, or at least too many poor choices, but I was letting go a little. I was cutting loose, getting comfortable and started playing those games you play when you really don’t feel like making healthy choices… Broken cookies don’t count… A handful doesn’t count… It’s ok to walk… Or quit early… Or just not go at all.
Then it was like the universe saw and gave me a hug. There have been a few things that have happened over the past two days that have puffed me back up, made me want to stand tall and pumped me full of motivation again.
I feel amazing again. I weighed 238.4 this morning- a drop since my bloated 244 of last week.
***
One of my dearest friends contacted me. She is one of the people who I saw start losing and she started feeling amazing. She inspired me to start. She was indomitable! Then life happened, she fell out of practice and now she’s searching for the path that is going to make her the strong mother and wife she wants to be. So she called me. It was such an honor to have her reach out to me for help just like I did to her years ago, I’m so flattered to repay my debt.
In this conversation we were talking about exercise and what the doctors say. She has a series of injuries that prevent her from doing pretty much anything. She’s in a tight spot as each doctor prescribes another joint or muscle area to rest or exercise to avoid or perform. It’s tricky, but I also wonder what is the equational benefit between saving that joint and prolonging her life. If the exercise might compromise her knee but add ten years to her life, which is the better choice?
As my Grandma Johnson would have said, “It’s a deep subject.” <3

Goals – Win Some, Lose Some

That moment when you wake up on Sunday morning all content… Only to bolt upright in bed with the realization that you literally FORGOT to do your final abs workout to earn the goodie. I was so mad. (Not really, disappointed.) The super annoying part is that Bradley asked me if I wanted to go to Old Navy last night when we drove by, I said no and felt all smug that all I needed was to finish up one more workout last night to earn my shopping prize. Then I came home and heavily invested hours upon hours in TED Talks, thereby completely COMPLETELY FORGETTING my abs. Booooooooo! No present for me.

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On the other hand… I did make my basic goals. That is cause for celebratory booty shaking dances.
***
Workout Tally
Abs Workouts: 3
Goal: 3
Goal for prize: 4 (BOOOOO!)
Miles ran this week: 15.4
Goal: 15 (I did it!)

New goals:
Abs Goal: 3
Goal for Prize: 4 (again!)
Mileage Goal: 10
I’m lowering my mileage for two reasons:
1. I’m tired. My muscles are tired. My joints are tired. I need to take an easier, healing week.
2. I have an insane work week coming up, staying late at work and getting home late all week. Every stinking day. Running will be a lower priority and I don’t welcome the added stress.
***

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We went for a run yesterday at the track. I ran my 2 miles and then got out of there. Afterwards Bradley and I talked about our feelings about the track. It was funny because we have the exact arguments and feelings about those places, I just feel the way about street running that he feels about track running and visa-versa!
Track running is really good. The track is flat, so no undue stress on the body. It is cushy, so less impact on the joints. But even more than that, we can all go. Jude is not quite big enough to run more than 1/4-1/2 a mile. Gigi regularly racks up mileage, but Jude is still babyish, slow and, of course, not terribly interested. When we go to the track, three can run together while the other plays in the sand pit, climbs the track and field or football equipment, or he plays soccer in the field. It works out well, family-wise.
However, I feel very self-conscious running on the track. Whenever we go, I am the lone woman, circling. On top of that, and this is just my own issue, I am usually the fattest person at the track. I feel like a minority that doesn’t belong, similar to the way people probably feel working out at a gym next to the ‘hot bod’ babes. I feel highly visible and prefer the unassuming nature of the street. Of course I also like the natural world better, with hills, valleys, leaves and blossoms. I like the changing view, people’s houses, people and watching the world change.
Bradley, on the other hand, enjoys the track because he feels like it is where you are supposed to run. He feels self conscious, like running on the street is shoving it in people’s faces, all pious and judgey- you know, for the same reason people hate it when other people post about working out on Facebook.* I suppose it reminds people that they need to work out and no one wants to work out, usually, so he feels like a nag by default.
Street running, for me, is the exact opposite. To me, street running has no airs. If I’m doing it wrong, no one is going to mock me. I hear people make comments at the track all the time, “He has a weird style, but it works, I suppose.” “Yeah, I’ve been watching him. Slow and steady, he’s not fast, but good for him.” Pseudo-compliments from pseudo-experts. On the street they might think things, but there aren’t groups of ‘experts’ judging the ‘best’ way to do things. It’s just people in cars, houses or yards who see this person run by a few times every week. Furthermore, I like the hills, the views and the fact that because I run I am becoming a personality in my neighborhood. I’m starting to know people (and dogs) in my neighborhood and they are beginning to know me. I like that.
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I spent some time studying my Strava account yesterday and found the following:

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A few pieces of amazement:
1. Yesterday I was averaging 5 runs per week. If I ran today I’m sure I’d get the same result.
2. In the past 28 days I’ve run 55 miles and gone for 19 runs! WOW!
3. My total distance is 79 miles. I’m close to running 100 miles- AMAZING! I went from only having ever run 1 little mile in my life to having run almost 100 times that. Wow. Just… Wow.
I’m kind of in awe of myself. Meaning- I don’t sit around all self congratulatory all the time, but if someone from work told me this story I would be impressed. So I’m allowing myself to be impressed with myself. 🙂
*
Ooh goodness I am proud when i have just worked out. I ran a mile, a half mile, three miles- whatever! But if you post stuff like that on Facebook people hate it, to the point that they make memes mocking people who do it. I don’t get it. We should be proud of those things that make our hearts pump with joy and lust for life, not luridly fascinated by people’s sad lives.
I pick and choose who I share with personally. I post a lot here, yes, but if you come to this website you know what you’re going to find- workout stories and weightloss successes and struggles… maybe some failures. But there is a group of folks online and at my work who have I have kind of linked arms with and I tell them everything, spam them with pictures, brag when I worked out- all that. I NEED that. I hold myself accountable by sharing what I’m doing. I’m proud, yes, but also trying to build the expectation that I’m the person who works out, eats right… And if I ever stopped people would harass me about it, wonder about it, ask about it… I can’t quit if everyone knows. That would be humiliating. Being able to use Facebook for support like that without social retaliation would be nice, don’t you think?

Guess What I Ate Today?

It could have been worse. Much much much worse. This is my most loved week because it is Staff Appreciation Week at my school. Our PTSA supplies lunch all week long, negating the need to pack something. Instead it is delicious, hot, fresh, yummy- like I said: my most loved week at school. At the end of the table every day was a huge array of desserts to end each meal sweetly. I’m proud to say that I didn’t over eat the whole week. I ate about half a cookie all week. And then today happened.
I love Frost Donuts. On my birthday I don’t get cake or pie or ice cream. I get Frost. And I savor every delectable bite. If you go, I advise any fritter they serve and/or the salted caramel old fashioned. You won’t be disappointed.
Anyhow, guess what was for breakfast this morning? Yup. FROST DONUTS! I was such a good kid all day. I ate an old fashioned donut and then half a chocolate cruller. I scored two donuts for my kids and a banana, but that was it. Honest. When I came home? It was like all that energy telling myself no just burst out and I said YES YES YES!!!
Today’s diet:
Morningstar sausage
English muffin
1/2 cup yogurt
2T granola
Banana
Old fashioned delicious donut
1/2 cruller
4 chik nuggets
Carrots (gotta stay healthy, yo)
Pop chips
Baked lays
Cilantro lime dip for baked lays
Burrito
With more cilantro lime sauce (thank you PTSA for the leftovers)
1/2 burrito more
…drenched in even more cilantro lime sauce
Caramel covered with chocolate

How could it have been even worse? There were many delicious donuts to try. Muffins. Chips. I was called back to that stupid table all day- it was right next to the freaking copy machine – torture! I’d lean over it, inspecting this, that, considering a nibble but I’d walk away. Every time except the one when I ate the extra 1/2 cruller.
Apparently I can’t walk away from that cilantro lime dip though. Sheesh. I think I ate 1/2 cup of it. I was going to ask for the recipe but I think I had better abstain.
***
On top of the stellar diet today it was also an abstaining from exercise day. I’ve been running really hard all week. I realized that this is the first week I’ve been running ALL of my miles and not hiking any. On top of that, I upped my mileage from 12 miles to 15 so I’m actually running a substantial amount this week. Woot for me! I’m planning on running my final two miles tomorrow and I should make my goal with no problem.
Workout Tally
Abs Workouts: 3
Goal: 3 (Booty shakin’ going on here!)
Goal for prize: 4
Miles ran this week: 13
Goal: 15
***
I worked my abs a few minutes ago. I’m having difficulty finding photograph worthy things to post so I tried to take a picture of myself mid-crunch and captured… Something that doesn’t need to be shared. So I rolled over as soon as the crunching and took this one instead.
Happy Friday

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Couldn’t Wait

This was me about 20 minutes ago:

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Yup.
It’s not my fault. We went to Ross and Bradley encouraged me to get a bunch of new running pants. They were all so inexpensive and once I got them home I just had to try a pair out. Don’t judge. I also needed to work off the 1/2 burger, salad and deep fried habanero macaroni and cheese ball that I happily consumed when I got surprise taken out to eat to kick off Mother’s Day weekend.
So I had to run. And run. And run. I planned on the big block which is about about 1.8 and when I finished that one I felt pretty stinking good so I did the short block which is an even 1 mile and when I finished that one I realized how close I was to finishing a 5k so went around and short cut through the school to finish the whole thing, totaling 3.4 miles in 37 minutes! I felt amazing! Taking the time off was a smart idea. Running tonight was an excellent idea. Plus, I made my goal of 12 miles for the week! Anything I do tomorrow will be gravy.
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I fit a size 16 today when I was at Ross. A SIZE 16 PEOPLE. I bought those pants. You bet I did.

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Day Off

Yup… This cowgirl is going on day two of not exercising. It’s amazing how good I feel. I’m getting all healed up. Bruises are losing their vibrancy, joints are less hurty. I felt like I could run today, but I forced my hiney back down into the hot tub for more soaking. Rest through tomorrow, then I can run again. I’m looking forward to it.
I get a little, well, manic when it comes to getting my burn on. On a no exercise day like today it will get to 8:00 at night and all of the sudden I’m either changing into my running gear or I’m reverting back to being eight years old, pouncing on my kids and getting all wild with them right before bed, OR I’m aggressively challenging Bradley to tickle fights, king of the mountain trials and wrestling matches. You think I’m kidding? Talk to the hubs. I have gas in my tank, my babies. I have to move.
Several days of this and I really do remember what it was like to be that crazy kid who could rollerskate for hours then talk a million miles an hour in a made-up language to my BFF while turning cartwheels in the front yard after spending the day swimming and riding my bike around and around the block while singing camp songs at the top of our lungs. Think I’m kidding? Ask anyone I graduated with who lived in my hood. All of my neighbors. They all heard me.
For years I was told to calm down, to settle down, that I was like a fart in a skillet, that I would spin like a top, that I just. Never. Stopped. Miss Wiggle, squirmy wormy, that was me. I eventually ended up doing an excellent job of settling down. But I won’t ever do that again longer than a day or three. All of that energy that was inborn was for a reason- I need to move or I get unhealthy. Now that I have my chutzpah back I’m determined to keep it.
I really pushed myself during the past two weeks. I took that weightloss warrior thing to heart and didn’t take a day of rest for the entire time. This rest is good, but I’m anxious to get back to training. Squirm on, wiggle on, and just. Never. Stop, lady.