Tamara Shazam!

So…
We went to Oregon!
Camping.
Ocean mischeif. All that.
If you want to see the complete awesomeness, you should check out my Instagram. I’m #tamarashazam.
But I’m not here to talk about our vacation madness. I’m here to talk about something that happened on vacation.
I went running!
Squeeee!

(This collage is my sweaty running face and my return to still-sleeping babies and hubs)
I know. It shouldn’t be that big of a deal, but I’ve always treated vacation like it’s a vacation from pretty much anything responsible regarding health. Eat and drink as much as you want and don’t worry about the calories OR exercise. As if. Exercise? Ha ha! You get that just from walking around, shopping, being cold and sleeping uncomfortably, right?
Of course I’ve seen those ‘overachievers’ who jog around the campsite or actually used their vacation for an enduring, athletic challenge, but Bradley was the first person I ever knew who actually used the gym at the hotel on vacation. He didn’t use it begrudgingly either- no. He would come back and enthuse over or disparage the quality of the gym, the wear on the machines. If it was a good gym, he’d find opportunities to go down two or three times a day to jog the treadmill or try out the elliptical. I was dumbfounded and would hang out watching cable in the dark, air conditioned room while eating and drinking merrily. He’d return and we’d rouse and follow on to our next adventure.
But this time? I packed my running shoes and a set of running clothes. And knowing my past vacation road trip eating habits, I was determined not to come back heavier than I left (232.8). I’ve been pretty careful and I am doing well, I have to say. But part of that reason is because of running and being very intentional about making opportunities to be physical- I’ve dug countless sand castle moats, I climbed 164 stairs, I ran up hill trails, I swam in the ocean, I traversed baby powder like sand and I ran around the camping loops.
Yep, I was that guy. The one we all hate who wakes up at 7:00 and goes for a run around the campsite. The campers are just waking up, rubbing their bleary eyes, possibly hung over, and there I am jogging past them. I don’t judge, but having always been the bleary eyed one in the past, seeing me would make me turn judgement on myself, dislike what I saw and then I would wonder why that person didn’t realize this was VACATION for goodness sake! But run run run I did…
I’ll admit, I didn’t run forever. Or even close. I started out with good intentions of three or so miles but running in the campground is rough! My lungs were burning! I think the moist, ocean air coupled with extensive particulates from campfire smoke made for some thick, pea-soupy breathing. Catching my breath was tricky and my lungs were burning by about a quarter mile in. Not a lot changed after that, so I stopped right at two miles. But I did it. I ran on vacay!

The other point of interest was how my own desires and impulses have changed regarding ‘treats’ on vacation. In the past, I’ve always been that sucker who is drawn into the candy shop, who yearns for caramel corn and ice cream cones. This trip I didn’t want any of that. We went to Trader Joe’s to load up on healthy snacks before we left, but we returned with most of that stuff unopened. We went to the salt water taffy shop, but my sack is still full of taffy. I got an ice cream cone and could barely finish it. I bought cheese curds, but could only eat a couple before I felt like vomiting. It was weird. What I was way into wasn’t all the crappy junk food, it was the beach and sand castles and body surfing and playing its my kids. Not to mention digging my giant awesome pit.

It was fabulous.

You know how I get all worried about Bradley running slow to stay back with me? You know how I spend all of this time worrying about holding him back? Not that HE ever complains. quite the opposite- he keeps telling me how much he loves to run with me, so he is not the problem at all… Well, yesterday he went for a run without me. I was fine with that. I walked with Jude and had a knee that was talking to me (saying, “Ouch? Maybe?”) so I played it cool and stayed behind. Upon his return he told me he likes running with me better. Why? Because he burns more calories. 😀

HE BURNS MORE CALORIES WHEN HE RUNS WITH ME. I feel vindicated! relieved! It is because I run forever. When he runs a 5K he does it in half the time I do and that results in just a couple calories fewer burnt. I no longer feel guilty AT ALL that I make him run at my fat burning pace. Turns out, it is his fat burning pace too and he hit a huge summer milestone today!
The other thing we tried today was having him run about 30 feet ahead of me. It turns out that when he stays just in front of me or right next to me I get all stressed out that I try to keep up with him in case he says anything and I want to be able to hear him. Of course I also don’t want to hold him back, but I think it’s the listening component that I get overwhelmed with. Staying a good distance away allows me to not feel like I’m drafting him and it allows me to focus a little more deeply on my run and pace rather than keeping up and remaining a polite listener.
***
Bradley bought me the pink jammies a few years ago. I have always wanted footies and, hey, they were in a size 2X for 6.50. He bought more than one pair and they didn’t fit. I was sad and they didn’t make it back to the store in time so they remained at our house. We were able to unload enough of them so I am down to one pair, and today as we were cleaning out the garage I found these and put them on… They FIT! Woohoo! Watch out school spirit pajama day…
Sometimes it’s the small things. Like footsie jams on a 39 year old woman.
***
I did a better job on eating whole foods and eating clean today.
Prunes, carrots, chick peas, almonds, tomatoes and celery all made it down the hatch. Way better than yesterday. Score for me!
***
The vindication is against me, btw, and my silly self sabotaging brain. 🙂

Today, this has nothing to do at all with being a weightloss warrior or runner or anything. Today’s post is a result of last night’s activity that resulted in a subsequent day of couching, writing and iPad surfing and will also result in me crashing to sleep by 8:00 tonight because I was up until 4:AM last night and was on a ‘midnight’ potty trip at 6:30 this morning when Jude woke up. 🙂
Parenthood plus New Kids has me Hangin’ Tough.
Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh!
{this is a direct copy from my family blog}
***
Many many moons ago, when I was a young teenager, I was bitten by the boy band bug. It started innocently enough… My friend liked this band called New Kids, but I knew they weren’t for me. I was the kind of girl who ironically listened to Alabama, Neil Diamond, Elvis and Kenny Rogers alongside The Cure, Soft Cell, B-52’s and Pet Shop Boys. But my dirtiest secret was that I harbored a deep love of pop music. I regularly (secretly) listened to Madonna, George Michael, Whitney Houston and anything else they played on KUBE or K-PLUS. Anyhow, my friend, Theresa, played the New Kids for me and I decided that if I HAD to pick one I GUESSED it would be Donnie. I bought the poster. The rest is history.

A few years ago the New Kids came around on tour. They were with the Backstreet Boys and, really, I wasn’t terribly into seeing them perform together. I was an older fan – 16 while the rest of the audience was 10-13- so BSB was really something I never engaged with. More than that, I had pushed my New Kids phase to the far recesses of my mind where you keep those embarrassing anecdotes that you roll out during those Q&A moments when you need to tell something surprising about yourself. New Kids have been my go-to. Bradley asked me if I wanted to go to the concert. Of course I didn’t. I was over them. Right? Then my cousin Cassie went and I realized my folly. I missed my one chance at seeing ‘The Happy Boys’ (as my dad called them) one more time in my lifetime. I swore that if they returned, I would attend their concert no matter how embarrassing.

This past weekend my cousin Cassie, again, flew to LA to catch NKOTB, again, and I remembered that promise. I steeled myself, looked deep into my soul and realized a couple of things:
1. I don’t really care if you think NKOTB suck. I think they suck too. But I love THEM.
2. It’s okay for me to like pop music. I love pop music. I hate that I love it, but my brain hooks on stuff like Katy Perry, Wham, Taylor Swift and all of that in the same way it hooks on Iron and Wine, Decemberists, Death Cab and other more adult/contemporary/indie rock. I love them all SO much. They can coexist in my musical vernacular beautifully. (Seriously, you should see some of the odd combinations of music that I run to.)
3. For some unexplainable reason I just really wanted to go. It was IMPORTANT to me.
So I impulsively went online, did a little research, and bought tickets. And I didn’t buy the cheap seats this time. I decided to live my midlife crisis out in style and went to the third tier price point, though a part of me wishes I just did it big and spent the 300 on a front row seat… but I digress. First I tried to solicit a few friends, but there were no takers. I could tell who really wanted to go though. They kept texting me song lyrics and wishing me the best. To all of you who didn’t go-
YOU MISSED OUT!!!!
I’m not kidding.

It was kind of funny, really, because as soon as I bought the tickets for Gigi and I, I had buyer’s remorse. Then I also went and bought a greatest hits album. Nostalgia had made the music sound a lot better in my head than I remembered. It was pretty bad, and even after the concert I still think a lot of their old crap is still crap. I played it to an unimpressed Gigi who turned out to not be terribly excited about going to the concert…
But…
After Boyz II Men…
After 98 degrees…
It all started with Donnie Wahlberg’s voice telling me that this was our night. That I planned for this. I waited 25 years for it. I worked for it. I earned it- the right to own the night and have the best time.
And he was so smart to say that. It was like an invitation- let’s all pretend, for an evening, that it really is 25 years ago and I’m 16 and they are 20 and we all were screaming and dancing and having the best time.
I’m not kidding when I tell you I almost cried in that moment. I seriously had to get ahold of myself. Then I just slipped into it, easy as that, rose to my feet and started screaming.
They played old stuff, new stuff, I didn’t care. I was so in the moment. My girl and I had our hands up, hollering, clapping, waving. I held her in my arms so she would have a perfect view and we danced and sang and had one of the very best times in my life. Ever.
As it was winding down, I felt tears threaten me again. I didn’t want to let the magic go. I realized that when they eventually end up in Vegas (I think that’s an inevitability at this point) I will totally go see them again.

Observations from the show:
1. It was really funny to see 98 Degrees shuffling around with their boy and moves with their thinning hairlines and spreading midsections. Adorable in that “My dad wears ‘hip’ Hawaiian shirts” kind of way.
2. I thought a lot about Jon- the New Kid I wrote a typed 108 page story about wherein we got married and started a family. He has severe anxiety about performing and last night he totally just dialed it in. No pelvic thrusts. No major showcased moves. No solos. I was sad to see the former front runner for husband and father of my children so apathetic. He wasn’t awful or anything, it just clearly was not where he wanted to be. I wonder if this will be his last tour. On top of that, he lives as an openly gay man now and I wondered how weird it was to be singing to all of these women about how much he loves them and wants to be with them. Compound that with the ‘girls’ wearing Tshirts and holding signs espousing their love for him… I would feel awkward and the need to explain all the time my status and, that really, they should focus their attentions elsewhere… Perhaps that’s why I’m not a gay man. In a boy band.
3. Sir Mix A Lot came to the show and provided me with the opportunity to explain what ‘Baby Got Back’ means to my daughter as about ten ripe and round women stood onstage shaking their juicy butts.
4. Donnie Wahlberg is a total exhibitionist. I saw his butt crack all night. He showed us his abs a million times. He had his hand down the front of his pants on more than one occasion. He grabbed his crotch over and over. He made out with women in the audience. His pelvic thrusts were the thrustiest and most copious. It was pretty cool.
5. NKOTB done growed up. Donnie wasn’t the only thruster. They all thrusted. Then for good measure they thrusted more. Annnnd, what’s a little more thrusting when there’s already so much pelvic thrust in the room. THRUST! It was the defining move of the night. Except Jon. He did not thrust. He stomped. And while they definitely all look like they’re in their forties now, at least three of them made certain the audience knew they still had abs of steel. Gigi was mortified when I screamed with glee as they tore through their tanks. It was a pleasant moment for me, horrible for her.
6. Joey brought his middle son, Griffin, out onstage to start singing Tonight. It was really cute and was Guinevere’s best moment.
7. The Tacoma Dome is really hot and humid when filled with hundreds of screaming women in their thirties and forties.
8. My daughter is a really fun kid. I’m excited for years of this kind of stuff in the future. We did our hair, got dressed up, went out to eat, danced sang, and had the best time ever for her first concert. I love that kid. It wouldn’t have been the same with anyone else.
9. I fit the concert t-shirt. For the first time my worlds united (enough disposable income + small enough body) presenting a glorious option of spending a ridiculous sum on a cheap tshirt. I love the shirt. 😀
(I’m wearing it right now!!!!!)

By Jove! I’ve got it!
I figured out my burn speed and it is very very ridiculously slow.

Those are some sloooow miles! Ha ha! But I’m totally cool with it. It feels good to run slower, I enjoy it more, I can talk more, I don’t feel like I’m dying quite as much… I stopped three times on my run to count my heartbeats and was consistently in fat burning zone. It feels right to run like this.
Speaking of feeling like dying (how’s that for a bizarro segue?!), I realized something yesterday on my run. I went without my compression tanks for two days to see what happens with the rash. Turns out it happens consistently and right now I’m sporting a pretty awesome red rash. I’d show you pictures, but really, you’ve seen it once you’ve seen my belly plenty. Anyhow, the other realization was that I didn’t hit the overheated panic point either time. I think the compression aspect really is detrimental to my workout- I insulate the heat while also squeezing my entire abdomen. No wonder I feel like I can’t draw a breath! I’m like a pioneer woman in corsets or something. So, for now, I need to figure out how to meet in the middle- protect meh belly while also breathing and maintaining a reasonable temperature.

I was interested to look at the patterns on my Wii Fit today. Indeed, my gain and loss is evident. The most interesting thing, however, is that when I rise and dip, my entire family rises and dips on their tracking graph. That tells me that it’s not just my PMS that makes me gain. It’s a whole family thing. We’ll have to watch that more carefully in the future.
***
Today I just wasn’t into running. Bradley was out on a job and I stayed home with the kids and got some painting done in our living room. First of all, it looks so crisp and clean in our living room. It’s amazing what some fresh paint can do. Two, when I used to paint it would make me sweat like crazy and get out of breath. Today it felt like nothing. Three, because it felt like nothing I felt like I needed to do something to get some physical exercise. While I painted I watched Extreme Makeover: Weightloss Edition. At one point this woman looks over at her partner and says, “I’m going to do one hour on the bike, one hour on the treadmill, one hour of weights and then we’ll see.” An hour on each! I was amazed. It reminded me that it doesn’t always have to be running and running doesn’t have to be a 20-40 minute workout and that’s it. I can also ride my stationary bike as often as I want. So today I rode my bike for about an hour and did an arms workout. I forgot what a good workout the bike can be. My thighs are burning!

I have been really been struggling lately. I know I’ve talked a little bit about recommitting to things, being better about diet, being more consistent with exercise, but I haven’t talked about what has had me in the tailspin.
First, you should know that within two weeks of hitting 229.8 (for about 37 seconds) I bounced right back up to 234. Then it became 237. Then I hopped on the scale a week ago and it said 240. 240! I couldn’t believe it! I knew that I was stressed, that I had PMS, that I wasn’t sleeping well- all of those things… But I was still running, hitting weights somewhat consistently and still staying within my calorie allowances. But I SERIOUSLY gained a full ten. I was pissed. Livid. And confused as all get out!
How was this happening?
Well, four days after day one of my cycle and four days after the start of warrior weeks and guess what?! It was eight pounds of water! Today I started out weighing in at 238- I was pleased. By the time I finished my run this afternoon – and ate and drank normally all day, mind you- I weigh a comfy 232.

I haven’t posted a sweaty faced run picture in a while. I know what my fans want, so here you go- sweaty faced Tamara.
Today it was only about 73 but the humidity must have let up or something because I really enjoyed my run. I never had a panic moment. I never ran out of breath. It was perfect! I took off and never stopped until I was back home after 2.8 miles. I was pleased with that. My mileage was only around 12:00, but when I took my pulse I was in fat burning zone heaven. Hopefully I will see some changes in the next few weeks. I would SERIOUSLY like to end the summer out of the 230’s!

I took this picture last night while I was watching the fireworks bloom. I decided to be one of those fools who takes a picture of the explosion, so I held my camera in the air and started clicking before I realized I had the camera flipped to me (it’s an iPhone- just as a reference point) and caught this. I love it because it’s the rare surprise candid selfie and I look so happy in it.

The heat. We’ve hit on that, I’m know, but I thought dealing with the heat was really just a mind over matter kind of thing. An excuse to NOT work out for me. Turns out, not so much. The past few days have left me gasping with that tightness in my chest, and the tightness is sustaining beyond my run a bit and I feel the strain in my lungs hours later. Today we took the run from a different direction in hopes that those trigger points wouldn’t get all uppity and freaky on me. It worked. On top of being more downhill than uphill, I didn’t get to those spots where I usually freak out. I also tried this thing called ‘listening to my body’, you know, when I feel so tired or overheated or out of breath that I can’t breathe so I just walk fast for a minute before I continue? That kind of listening to my body. Who would have thought?!
I have been thinking a lot about my burn, my aerobic vs. anaerobic workouts. Like Bradley said, the anaerobic burns both fat and muscle but it mostly just trains me to endure. I decided to dial back my effort a little and run EVEN SLOWER if you can imagine. It was super irritating then, when this lady was power walking on the opposite side of the street keeping up with us. SO annoying. I don’t allow Bradley to walk alongside me when I run slow so it was super humiliating that this woman just kept up with us. For almost a mile. No joke. It was hard because I knew I could go faster but this is about my burn and my body, not her need to prove that she could walk at my run speed. However, we eventually split away from her and my pacing was solid, slow and hopefully did some good burn work.
***
Ok. The next part may be a TMI moment, but here it is anyhow.
You know how I told you that I wear compression tanks under my clothes at all times to keep my belly from flying around like a cantaloupe in a hammock?
Yeah, so the other day I was hot and I wanted to run. I thought about it and decided to forgo the compression wear to not end up as hot. As I was running I started feeling a mild stinging happening under my belly fold at my waist – you know, the crease right at my natural waist where my belly folds over. Then it started to burn. Of course I ignored it… But this is what happened:

I only thought of taking a picture three days after the run, but the result was a red, chapped line that ran all along the entirety of my waist crease.
I simultaneously had two thoughts- woohoo! This means insurance will cover my skin removal surgery (my insurance will cover a tummy tuck as long as you’ve maintained the weight for 6 months, it gets irritated/rashy and you document it).
The other thought I had was that I’ve pretty much convinced myself that I don’t care that much about skin surgery anymore. I’ve seen pictures of women who have lost piles of weight who are wearing bikinis on the beach standing next to their glowing husbands, stretch marks and saggy skin evident but no biggie. My hubs could give a hoot about the surgery. He just wants a wife who is happy with her body and sense of self, so the decision is entirely mine. I’ve decided to wait until I actually have the weight gone before I make the decision and I can see what I’m working with. But if I have to wear compression gear to workout for the rest of my life because under my belly I get all red and rashy? I will likely say yes to surgery.
***
The rest of my time this summer has looked like this so far:

Not bad…

I woke up Sunday morning,
I looked up on the wall,
The skeeters and the bedbugs
Were having a game of ball.
The score was 6 to nothing,
The skeeters were ahead,
The bedbugs hit a homerun
And knocked me out of bed!
Singin’ – Eener meener and a miner mo,
Catch a Whipper Whopper by its toe,
And if he HOLLERS, HOLLERS, HOLLERS, don’t let him go!
Singin’ – Eener meener and a miner mo!

Remember that song? I think I yelled it on the way to school every day in first grade. Something about that whipper whopper…
***
Anyhow, I did wake up this SUNDAY morning, got up, headed downstairs and let the dog out. As she’s getting older she’s like a real geriatric person with weird sleeping patterns and everything, panting all night, only sleeps well with her ibuprofen… Anyhow, so I got up at about 6:00 to put her out and stepped outside to find it was ALREADY HOT! At 6:00 AM! And I’m not talking the kind of early morning heat that makes you say, “It looks like it will be a nice day.” No. This hot was all in your face from the moment it hit the land, breaking a sweat at 6:00. Sheesh. And I live in Seattle!
That said, it was a perfect moment to be all vacay cheesy – like I’m at a resort or something, so I started doing some yoga- just the sun salutation (how appropriate) and a few other simple poses that I learned from the Wii Fit. It felt like it should- all holistic and commune-y and naturish. The next step should have been to go to the co-op for some quinoa and bulgar or something (which I’m mocking but I actually really like that stuff 🙂 ).
After communing with nature I went back up into bed and stared at Bradley until he woke up. Today is his 40th unofficial birthday (long story short- he has a 12/29 birthday that has always sucked because of its location in the year- who wants another gift to buy or cake to eat smack in between Christmas and New Years?! So we moved it to his half birthday, or really close to his half birthday), so I wanted to get our run out of the way ASAP because I wouldn’t have to worry about when we would do it, or the calories I will consume because of this day. As soon as his eyes fluttered open I asked for the run. Thankfully he said yes because it was 8:00 and already pushing 75 (remember – 75 in Seattle is hot).

{In honor of my Birthday King, I invoked the force today…}
So we stretched, got dressed and off we went.
Heat running has been hard on me. I thought for a long time I didn’t like the heat because I just don’t like to sweat. It turns out the heat offers some other fun stuff. The biggest issue for me is getting overheated and losing my breath. For some reason it’s harder for me to get my breath in the heat. I get the shallow breathing, but not the deep breaths that replenish my oxygen. The result is that a little over a mile into the run, my chest tightens down so hard that I can’t get a good breath, so then I start very intentionally deep breathing, which doesn’t go deep enough so my breathing just becomes hyperventilation and from there it turns into a panic attack.
The last time (before today) we ran, I wouldn’t let myself stop. When I got home after three miles I was dripping sweat and could feel my heartbeat all over my body, so hard, and my lungs and chest were gridiron solid. I was having a hard time breathing. I stripped down, got into my bathing suit and jumped into the pool and as soon as the cold water hit me my lungs opened up and I could breathe again. I sat submerged in the pool as my heart beat -BOOM BOOM BOOM- and I cooled off, finally getting my breath again. I learned from that day the the heat really does impact me.
I’m wondering if it’s an asthma thing- I’ve heard of exercise induced asthma and heat induced asthma. Maybe I need to explore that a little bit more with my doctor. I also want to do one of those exercise heart test things that you do on the treadmill at the doctors’ to see if I’m just pushing myself too hard, maybe, and my heart is going to explode! I don’t have a real, authentic fear of that, but it’s not a bad idea to get a clean bill of health as I continue to move forward.
***
I took my heart rate today-
Immediately post-run: 153 BPM
Ten minutes later: 99 BPM
much later (resting): 63 BPM
My active rate is a little high for fat burn. I honestly don’t know how to run slower and walking is so awkward when you try to go too fast. It’s hard to break a good sweat walking, for me. I’m super impressed, however, with my resting heart rate! I’m in the ‘good’ zone- smack between ‘excellent’ and ‘above average’! I’m pleased with that.