40 by 40

40 by 40. No, those aren't my measurements (but they’re close, unfortunately). Nope, those numbers are my new goal. You see, I am turning 40 in July…that’s five, gasp, months from now.

I really can’t believe that I am turning 40 because most days, I still feel like this:

Baby chef in the making. I'm actually still as messy when I cook.

Although some days I feel like this:

But if I want to be like this when I grow up:

Then I need to get my ass in gear.

So, that's the plan. 40 pounds in 20 weeks. That's a healthy 2 pounds a week and will put me at a weight lower than I was my senior year of high school.

I can honestly say that I feel better right now, at this very moment, than I ever have in my life. Which is a great, positive place to start. So, if I can reach my goal (or even get close to it) I can welcome 40 with open arms rather than a bitch slap.

This has been a nice part of winter...learning to Snowshoe. Still effin cold though.

Truly, though, I am not really that afraid of turning 40, I just wouldn't mind time slowing down a wee bit. Summer can hurry up and get here, though. I've had it with this winter crap.

Seriously. Stop.

If anyone wants to join me in pursuit of fitness, you can friend me on Lose It (loseit.com or Lose It App for iPhone and Android). Send a friend request to jenlamplough@gmail.com from the app and let me know what your goal is. We can do this!

On Weight Gain, Judgement and Cute Dresses

Wow. It's been almost a year since I last blogged. 2013 was a really hard year for me and I wasn't up for sharing my struggles, apparently. I have had some physical, emotional and professional struggles that have had a serious impact on my healthy lifestyle. I'm happy to report that I am back on track and aside from the Polar Vortex screwing with my life, 2014 has been a good one and continues to look sunny. Well, not outside, but in my head.

Dreaming of summer. 

July 3, 2012 I was at my lowest weight since I was a freshman in college.  Since that date, I have gained back (from a 60 pound weight loss) about 29 pounds (it was actually more like 36 pounds but I have lost 7 since January 1). A lot of things factored in to that gain including recovery from a severely broken ankle, fertility treatments (that included two surgeries), a miscarriage, a lots and lots of sadness. The whole year just sort of sucked and I let it get to me. 

Ankle recovery last summer. 

I have been so humiliated about my weight gain and didn't want to face the music. Avoidance just made everything worse, though, believe me. I've always had such an issue with being judged and worrying about what people think of me. And old habits die hard. So I just hid. Hid from this blog, hid from the world, hid from myself…all while slowly gaining weight. 

I am a big fan of the show, The Biggest Loser, and really loved and connected with Ali Vincent, who was the first female to win the show several years ago. She has a show on the LiveWell Network called Live Big with Ali Vincent. In a recent episode, she came clean about her weight gain since winning the show and the judgment that comes with it. I could so relate to her but on a much smaller scale. She is famous and get recognized everywhere so strangers are often asking her how much she weighs, looking her up and down, and judging her. 

Watch Video Here: http://livewellnetwork.com/Live-Big-with-Ali-Vincent/episodes/Ali-Vincent-Steps-on-Scale-and-Reveals-Her-Weight-Gain/9405085 

She was really brave to get back on that scale and show the world her 50-ish pound weight gain and her struggle to get it back off. I deal with that within my small, anonymous circle of life and it is so hard and humiliating. I can’t imagine being called out by a stranger. Mostly people are nice and encouraging, but I can see it their eyes and hear it in their tone. I am overly sensitive too, so it is always 1000 times worse in my head than theirs, but it's there and it's destructive.

Life is hard enough without us judging ourselves and each other so ferociously. I am seeing this now on the other spectrum with the newest female winner of The Biggest Loser, Rachel Frederickson and her astonishing 155 pound weight loss (she went from 260 pounds to 105 pounds). Now instead of being judged for being too fat, she is being judged for being too thin. I do think she is too thin because she no longer looks like the triathlon winning athlete she was toward the end of the show but, rather, someone who is living up to a Hollywood standard of beauty and health. 

Photo Source: http://www.nbc.com/the-biggest-loser/photos 

I mean, come on, Jennifer Lawrence is always going on and on about how she’s an anomaly in Hollywood because she’s not a hanger with skin, but she looks pretty damn thin to me. I’m glad she’s alright with how she looks because she should be. She is thin. She isn't even “normal” thin. She’s thin-thin. And calling herself a "fat actress" just reiterates to all of us that the standard is unattainable. Do you think people would go on and on about how brave she is to talk about her weight and being okay with it if she was Melissa McCarthy?

I'd "refuse to diet" too if I looked like this!

Do I wish I was 105 pounds? Hell yes, I do. Do I want to do what it takes to be 105 pounds? Hell no, I don’t. But what I do want is to be fit, healthy and look semi-cute in a dress. Call me shallow, but hey, I’m not going to pretend that I am alright with being a snug size 16. I am not alright with weighing 232 pounds. I am not alright with running a 14 minute mile. I am not alright with having to be scraped off the floor with a giant spatula after Bootcamp. I want to push myself to always be a better version of me, but I don’t want to be judged for my struggles. Feeling badly about myself doesn't push me to work harder, it makes me want to eat a bag of Doritos while lying on the couch watching a Dance Moms marathon (yes, I watch it, don’t judge me!). 

There was too much of this going on in the entire month of December. 

And believe me I am the loudest critic (of myself) of all. Like Mean Girls, plus Heathers with a little Cruel Intentions mixed in. But it's inevitable, right? It’s just the way the world works. So, let them judge. Yes, my dress is shorter in the back than in the front because of my bubble butt. Go ahead, judge away. Yes, I am dead last in Bootcamp and everyone is waiting on my slow ass to finish. Avert your eyes, it’s okay. True, the bottom button of my chef coat is stretched tighter than plastic wrap. I say, thank God for aprons. And on I trudge. 

That bottom button is earning its paycheck, man. 

The good news is, I am getting healthier. I have been logging my food on Lost It maintaining about 1500 calories a day. I slip here and there and my job doesn't help much but overall, my eating has been very healthy and well logged. I have also been back to Bootcamp (5 days last week!) and running on the treadmill for now since there is about 3 feet of snow on the ground. Although I did go snowshoeing and that was a lot of fun. I hate winter and I hate cold, though, so I've mostly been inside. 

Cold! Cold! Cold!

I am down 7 pounds since January 1 and am pretty happy with that. I formed a support group with friends from work, home and the gym and that helps a ton. So onward and upward I go (or downward, hopefully). I am sure there will be some obstacles ahead, but I will face them head on, work at being the best version of me and sweat my ass off in the process. Go ahead, judge away.

Training and Inspiration

I've had a great training week so far and have amped up my dedication to the workouts. First, I started a triathlon training group on Sunday. It is through Experience Triathlon, which is the organization running the Batavia Triathlon on June 9.

I was super nervous about joining a training group. I don't have a great history with "official" training groups and I was sort of dreading meeting new people (probably very fit people) and feeling like the slowest one in the room...again. It ended up being great. Everyone was "normal" and the coaches couldn't be more nurturing or nicer. I was so relieved. Each training session we will do two events...this first training session we did spinning and then swimming. Swimming is my hardest event so I am so glad to get some official training on it. I road nine miles Sunday morning then did the spinning...needless to say, I was a little sore Sunday night.

The old me on the old bike. 

I am also training on a new (old) bike. My friend Sue gifted me one of her racing bikes and it is awesome. I have been using a hybrid bike that is great, but not great for Triathlon. It is a little heavy and the wheels are wide. This new bike is a racing bike (which I've never ridden before) and I can't believe how much easier it is to ride and hit the hills. I seriously think I am going to take a ton of time off my bike ride this year. It's kind of exciting because I normally am just worried about finishing a race but I really think I can improve my times this year because of this enhanced training. This isn't a novel idea, but I've never even considered getting a coach until I read "Triathlon for the Every Woman" by Meredith Atwood (Swim Bike Mom). It's the best decision I've made with regards to training.

New training bible! Check out her blog too if you haven't yet: www.swimbikemom.com 

I also purchased a Garmin training watch/heart rate monitor/GPS system. The thing is seriously pimp and so accurate and easy. I am so excited about using it for my training. And it stores all of your data so for Logging Nerds like me, it is awesome to have all of the data at your fingertips.

Obsessed with my new toy!

On Monday night, we did the Run for Boston which raised funds for The One Fund Boston. It was an incredible night with people all over running to raise money for Boston. I ran with a couple of my running buddies and actually improved my time a little bit and felt great doing it. It feels so good to be back in the fitness world and the running community. I didn't realize how much I missed it and how much it was depressing me to be out of it until I made it back.

With some of my running buddies! We have a joke about "posing" for every photo. It was a beautiful night!

Photo Courtesy of Geneva Running Outfitters. http://www.genevarunningoutfitters.com/
 All of the incredible Runners for Boston in front of the windmill in my town. Isn't it beautiful? 

I swam yesterday using some of the training techniques I learned at my training group and honestly, I am just feeling great! Hopeful. Happy. Motivated. Now, I just need to get some of this poundage off. Still working on it. I am teaching 16-4th graders how to decorate cupcakes today...makes eating healthy hard but my goal is to NOT eat a cupcake today. Stupid cupcakes.

These t-shirts were donated so that all of the proceeds went to The One Fund Boston.  Donate here: https://secure.onefundboston.org/page/-/donate2.html

Selfish and Selfless Acts

It's been a week since the bombings in Boston and so many people have written so many beautiful things about the people there, the city itself and horrific tragedy that it was. I've thought so much about it this week and about selfish acts. Yes, the bombers were selfish, but I don't really want to talk about them. They've been covered enough. I want to talk about the other selfish people...the runners. We're selfish people. We spend a lot of time away from loved ones to train for races. We spend a lot of money on clothes, gadgets and race entries. We wake up the people we share a bed with, sloppily pulling on running clothes at 5:30 a.m. We talk incessantly about pace times, chafing and shoe fittings. We put running above a lot of things. The selfishness of running is a positive kind of selfish...it's motivating, it's healthy, and it's fun (most of the time) but it's selfish nonetheless.

The people who support us, deal with all of our stinking, sweaty clothes, smile and nod when we excitedly talk about negative splits and most importantly stand at the finish line and cheer louder than anyone else when we plod into the finish are the selfless ones. They are supportive, happy and encouraging. They stand and wait, and wait, and wait for that 30 seconds of yelling and sign waving for that last beautiful moment at the finish line. They wipe our tears when our runs suck, rub our calves when they're sore and get us water, ice and Aleve when we can't get off the couch after a long run. I can't imagine how the runners at the Boston Marathon feel about the supporters who died last Monday. Especially the dad who lost his little guy who just wanted to cheer for his Superman of a dad doing a race I could only dream about doing. I just can't imagine.

My biggest supporter and the love of my life. 

I have been back to running for a month now and each day I improve, and each day I am more and more grateful for every step, for all of my supporters, especially my husband, and for the work it takes to get back into fighting shape. Yes, that moment of selfishness on our part to achieve a goal is worth all of the pain and I know that for the supporters that moment of selflessness to see the person you love accomplish something they've been working toward is worth all of the bullshit they have to put up with. I know that because I've been on both sides. But how can those who lost loved ones or had loved ones hurt in that bombing think it was worth it?

If you want to donate to The One Fund Boston, please go to: https://onefundboston.org/

I know running will always been worth it for me. It's all I dreamed about when I was immobile with my broken ankle. I never thought I would appreciate running as much as I do now since my accident. I hope, someday, that those affected by the bombings will come to appreciate it again, too. I am running in a memorial run tonight with the running community where I live and those Boston Marathon runners and supporters will be in my heart.

Don't Call It a Comeback...

I ran in my first 5K Race today since I broke my ankle in October. It was so cold, windy and hilly but I did it! I was slower than I used to be, chubbier than I used to be (well not chubbier than two years ago, but chubbier nonetheless) but I did it. And I got by with a little help from my friends.

Fun with friends. It was SO cold and windy!

I have a great group of running friends who live in tri-cities area where I live and a lot of them ran the same race today. Some are super fast and some are more my speed. When I started back to running about three weeks ago, I could only go for about 10-15 minutes on the treadmill and then I'd have to walk. Not just because of my ankle but because I had gotten sorely out of shape during my recovery. My eating muscles and elbow muscles (from wine drinking) were in perfect shape, but my ass, not so much. Or my thighs, or my...well...you get it.

This race today was to benefit the Elburn, IL Public Library and along the whole course were quotes from Fairy Tales. This was the first sign I saw and I thought, how poignant that is is my first race back after a broken ankle!

I finally worked up the courage to run outside and I called some of my local running friends to join me. It was a disaster. They took off and I was wheezing down the path doing my walk/run/walk/run bit just trying to make it a couple of miles. They weren't being mean or insensitive, I told them to go at the own pace and we'd meet up somewhere, etc. But watching their brightly colored jackets way, way off in the distance really got in my head. I couldn't even keep up with them when I was in great shape, but for some reason, this just really stung. One of my friends from this group, Sue, is a slower runner and promised to run with me again the next day. Just me and her so I could get my head back in the game. So I met her early the next day and we did 3.25 miles at a really nice, slow pace that suited me just fine. We talked about diet and exercise, the mind-f*ck that running can be and I finally felt like I could get back in shape. It was feeling pretty devastatingly hopeless before that. After our run, Sue sent me this email:

The story of that 5K is here. I had completely forgotten about it until Sue reminded me. It was also the beginning of my weight loss journey on Fat Chef on Food Network. I felt so good after remembering how far I've come, how big this broken ankle setback was and the fact that I am actually running so much sooner than I ever thought. So good that Sue talked me into signing up for this 5K today. And I did it. Slowly, but faster than I have run in a long time and dammit, I'm proud. I ran with Sue and her friend Susan for a while but then went ahead on my own. Susan has a bad knee and Sue had just done a muddy 10K the day before and was feeling it. She also didn't want to leave her friend, which is awesome. So I just went. I finished only a minute or so before them and I was debating the whole time whether I should go back and finish with them. Sue has been there for me through a lot of fitness craziness and I wanted to cross that finish line with her. At the same time, I felt like I needed to finish this alone so that I knew I could actually do it.

My buddy Sue. I would not have done this race today if not for her. It's hard not to believe in yourself when you have such a great support system who believes in you.  I can't tell you what this lady means to me. 

I had some great encouragement along the way with two of my other running friends, Pat and Carolyn, and then a whole cheering section of a big group of runner-friends from my area. All in all, it was great and I finished in under 42 minutes. It's a start. It's hard to see photos of myself 20 pounds heavier than I used to be at my fittest, but I'm working on it. Just like I'm working on running. Slowly, but surely.

The Long Limp Home...

Wow. Where do I begin? Last time I blogged, I looked like this:

And was recovering from this:

The story is here.

Now, 5 months since my accident and surgery, I am finally finding my way home. Home to exercise and fitness. Home to a healthy life. Who knew that I would be HOME on the running path. Who knew I would be HOME getting my ass kicked in bootcamp at the gym. But I'm home and it's been a long, painful road to get here. But all roads lead home, don't they? Actually, I think the saying is all roads lead to Rome, but in my case, they've lead home. Even with the detours like a broken and busted up ankle, being depressed from not being able to walk for 2 months, or run for 5 months or not being able to fit into anything but yoga pants.

Well, I'm back. It took me a really long time to get here, but I am back running, swimming, biking. I. AM. BACK.

It hurts a little, but I am doing it. Very, very slowly, but running, swimming and biking nonetheless. I'm about 20 pounds heavier than when I was at my lowest weight, but I am slowly taking it off. Just like I am slowly getting back to fitness.

I have been struggling so much with food, emotions, stress...I started to revert to old habits. The difference between now and when I would gain weight before is that I am stopping it early and will never get back here:

I am not here right now (20 pounds ago):

More like here (20 pounds heavier)

But I'm with Andy Cohen so that makes it all a little better!

So, I have been depressed, and being depressed makes it hard to be healthy. I woke up last Sunday feeling bluer than blue and heavier than I've been in a while and woke up to this on my last blog:

This comment from Psyche Steph completely snapped me back into reality. I signed up for the Batavia Triathlon and rejoined the pool. I am back running and am hopeful... not to go back to where I was before, but to become an even better, stronger, faster.

Next it recommitting to a healthy diet. I have been doing great this week. This sign in my kitchen helps:

Whatever works, right?

So, thanks for sticking by me. Thanks for believing in me. Thanks for going on this journey with me. I'm baaaaaaack! xo

Are you @#%^ing kidding me?

People think I am an overachiever. I work a lot, I volunteer a lot, I work out a lot, I socialize a lot, I have several degrees, I've changed careers, I have a couple of books published, triathlons, half-marathons... okay, I am an overachiever. I didn't used to be. I used to be a super-slack-tastic party animal but once I graduated from my undergrad degree and started working I got really ambitious. So, I went from slacker party girl to over-achieving party girl. It's fitting, then, that I spectacularly broke my ankle at a party. A Halloween party no less. In the best costume I've ever worn on my favorite holiday.

I didn't just break this bitch, either. I broke, dislocated, and tore ligaments to the point that I had to have surgery. 8 pins and a plate later, I am in a non-weight bearing cast for two months. And, I did this exactly four days after I was able to start running again from my last surgery. Talk about over-achieving! This couldn't be just a simple break that I could wear a walking cast or boot on. I'm in a 1960's era Frankenstein-footed plaster cast that weighs as much as my 5 year old nephew.Go big or go home, right?

Sorry for the requisite, gratuitous, swollen, busted up, disgusting ankle pic. Yes, that red spot is where my bone almost popped out. Ew. Ick. Cringe.

So, back to the Halloween party. I dressed up as a Roller Derby Chick, alias Veruca Assault, in a costume I made, wearing legit Roller Derby skates I bought on Amazon. I was a bad ass. I wish I was this bad ass in real life but that's what Halloween is for. (on that note: so why do so many women dress as sluts and men dress as women...anywhoo...). I even used makeup to give myself a black eye and body bruises over my fake tattoos. Did I mention overachieving?

Yeah, I know. Bad ass.

Icing my fake black eye with a Budweiser. Who's classy? This was fun to explain in the Emergency Room by the way.

As my darling husband and I were leaving the house, I said, "This is probably really dumb. The last thing I need is a broken ankle, ha ha ha." Oh, if this was literature this would be lovely foreshadowing. I don't believe in jinxing and that nonsense so before you tsk tsk tsk at me, I didn't bring this on by saying it.

We were at my neighbor's house at a very fun party. I had barely had a couple of drinks and as I was rolling out of the kitchen and looked back to kiss my adorable hubs, down I went and underneath and backwards went my foot. Snap went the ankle.

Busting out of my stripy tights. By the way, I was the only asshole in a Halloween costume in the Emergency Room. Can you believe that?

Denial. Ice. Emergency room. Ice. Splint. Ice. Painkillers. Elevated. Ice. Surgery. Elevated. Ice. Sitting on my ass. That's how the story ends for now. I am in a non-weight-bearing cast until the end of December. There is hope though! Next week I have an appointment to get my stitches out and hopefully get a waterproof cast so I can swim with the pull buoy. I am working on a getting a knee-walker (I know you're jealous) so that I can get around better and thankfully it's my left leg so I can drive eventually, when I go from Franken-cast to waterproof cast.Then I can do weights, and non-weight-bearing exercises until I can start running and doing bootcamp again.

Frankencast after voting. I waited in line for 45 minutes on my crutches with my husband as was more worn out than I was after the half-marathon.

Because I don't work at a desk, I am off work until the end of November and will go back to work December third. Rolling with my homies on my knee walker.

Behold my future. The knee-walker. Jealous?

I'll probably blog more since I all sorts of time on my hands, which if I think about it, really is a gift. I never have time so this is my silver lining. That, along with the fact that this is temporary, I did not hit my head, I have the most amazing husband who is taking the best care of me along with our families and friends who have rallied and helped us so incredibly much. I will keep finding the silver lining and try not to take too many pictures of my cats, eat too much, or go too psychotic.

The day after the accident. Fake tattoos, purple hair and all. Why is "I'm sexy and I know it" playing in my head?

 

 

Okay, these are the only picture of my cats I'll post. Because I have about 10,000 of them. Hey, I don't have anything else to do and they're cute, dammit. That, and they haven't left my side since I did this.

Fiona, protesting my leaving for surgery by camping in my overnight bag.

Tripod doing his best to make it all better.

Til next time. xo

Physical Therapy

I'm back in physical therapy. No, not that kind. I AM RUNNING AGAIN! I go to a psychologist every two weeks to do my mental workout, which always helps me stay focused on my goals, and I believe that physically working out is just another kind of therapy for me. Yes, it makes me strong and helps me lose weight, but it really does lower my stress level and make me feel so physically and mentally WELL. Why did it take me so long to figure this out? I guess I spent so many years feeling crappy (and not realizing it) that until I knew what it really felt like to feel well, I didn't know what I was missing. Well, I know now and thankfully I am able to run and do bootcamp again! Hooray!

Doing my "Yay for Running" cheer on the running path!

I went out for my first run yesterday and did just around 3 miles with my running buddy, Sue. Then I went out again this morning and did 4 miles on my own. Both times I walked a little, ran a little (but ran more than walked) and I was just so happy doing it. Don't get me wrong, it was hard as hell. My legs felt like lead, my breathing was terrible. Allergies, asthma and crazy warm weather probably didn't help that much but I still felt so happy to be running.


People always tell me, "I wish I loved running like you do." I don't love the actual act of running. I love ice cream. But I love what running does for me and that's why I persevere through every step. Listen, you don't have to love it to do it. I love how I feel afterwards and that makes it worth it. None of us are going to do anything that's not worth it. Not for long, at least.

And it doesn't have to be running. It can be anything...swimming, biking, bootcamp. I try to do it all, not just running. Running combined with my bootcamp class has been the key for me with my weight loss. That along with my therapy. But just because it works for me doesn't mean it will for you. You have to find something that you'll stick with and that works for your life. If it's doing workout videos in your basement at 4:00 a.m. before your kids are up, then do it. If it's doing an Ironman Triathlon, then do it. Whatever lights your torch, you know? Just do something!

If you do want to try running,  I recommend doing a Couch to 5K program...that's how I started! There are great free ones on the internet if you like to do it on your own or you can join a Walk to Run program, usually offered through your local running store, to join others who are doing the same thing. It's up to you and how you like to work out. I used to hate running with other people because it made me mental. Now, I look forward to seeing my running group every week and seeing my weight loss support group friends in bootcamp. I have some of my best work outs with both of them. It took me a while to get there, mentally, though. Once I got past the feeling that everyone was judging me (which they weren't, I was just judging myself.)

Now it's fun to run with friends!

So, in addition to getting my sweat on again (who knew I'd ever long to be my sweaty, red-faced, huffing mess that I am when I work out) I am working really hard to continue logging my food and get the last of this weight off. I've decided to work on losing 30 more pounds which will take me down to around 180. Once I make it there, then I'll reassess. When I first started this journey, I was looking at losing over 100 pounds. Boy was that daunting. Now that I am down 60, I am going to work on the rest of it in chunks, to get off the chunk. It seems less daunting that way and hey, when I get down to 180, I might just decide that I am actually happy there and then work on maintenance. Wow, I can't even imagine. But then again, I couldn't imagine half the stuff that I've accomplished in the last year. What's 30 stinkin' pounds? 

Please hold my calls while I slowly go insane...

Jack Torrance. Travis Bickle. Alex Frost. Annie Wilkes.

What do these characters and I have in common?

The slow descent into madness.

Mine isn’t fueled by manipulative ghosts, insomnia and violence, obsessive love or being any author’s number one fan. No, my lunacy is caused by no running! NO RUNNING! NO BOOTCAMP! NO LIFTING ANYTHING HEAVY! AGH!

See, I had this little surgery almost two weeks ago. I wish it was something glamorous like a tummy tuck (oh yeah, I’d do it if I could afford it…damn tootin’ I would) but in reality it was a blocked fallopian tube that I needed (in my doctor’s words) “roto-rootered out.” Pleasant visual, no? We’re trying to have a baby, as you well know by now, and this is hopefully going to help that plan.

So, for the greater good, or rather the sweet-little-baby-powder-scented-good, I had this surgery done. I can’t run, lift weights, do bootcamp or lift anything more than 20 pounds until next Wednesday. That’s next Wednesday as in 7 days, 8 hours and 30 minutes from now. Not that I’m counting or anything.

So. Here I stew in my own psychosis.

Who would have thought that a year ago, when I was cursing every time I squeezed myself into two sports bras and ill-fitted workout clothes that I would be longing (and I mean loooooonging) to strap on my running shoes and hit the pavement?

Mentally. Physically. Tight-Pants-and Crabby-Attitude-ly Crazy. I need to fucking run. Pardon the French. Annie Wilkes would call me a dirty-birdy and hobble me for that. Then I really wouldn’t be able to run for a while.

Anyway, those of you who see me on a regular basis, please excuse my nuttiness. And if I start talking about all work and no play makes Jenny a dull girl, well, call in the reinforcements.

In the meantime, I will walk endlessly on the treadmill, dreaming of sweating up a storm in bootcamp (my God, do I really miss doing an hour of bootcamp), and try not eat like the Titanic is going down.

I won’t boil any bunnies either. Well, unless I’m teaching rabbit in meats class.

Jenny Lamplough and the Half Marathon Race

I did it! I completed the Fox Valley Half Marathon today in 2 hours and 49 minutes! I came in well under the 3 hours I had planned and I am still standing! Well, not at the very moment. I am typing from my couch with lots of pillows, blankets and a couple of lazy cats. But I CAN still stand, which is awesome.

My beautiful medal!

 It was such an incredible race. First, I have to say that the organizers of this race did a wonderful job. It was so well organized, a beautiful course, tons of smiling and encouraging volunteers and ample aid stations. I actually skipped one because they were so plentiful! And then there were my personal cheerleaders, my beloved, Mike, his parents, my friend and hair stylist, Sarah, and my friends and neighbors, Jess, Dave, Olivia, Marty, Lily, Cate and Owen. It was something else and I felt so lucky to have them there.

Beautiful morning for a race!

Let me back up, though.

My girlfriend Meg came over Saturday for packet pick up and fun shopping at the Marathon Expo. I picked up one of those 13.1 stickers for my car that I have been coveting for years. I didn't dare put it on my car until after the race though! I didn't want to jinx myself!

Loud and proud!

We loaded up on carbs and watched Bridesmaids and Meg made me the most beautiful signs for my cheerleaders to hold up during the race. She is a teacher and they are on strike so I know that she's been missing poster board, markers and glitter so I think making those signs was as much for her as they were for me to see them!

Teachers make the best signs!

She always says, "You got this!" to me when we are doing something really hard like this race. She started it with Triathlon and it has just stuck with us. It's our little mantra.

We woke up at 5:00 a.m., got ready and, thanks to my darling husband, got dropped off at the race. It was cold this morning, but perfect running weather. Not so perfect standing around weather, but perfect once we started. My toes actually started to go a little numb while we were waiting to start and it was worrying me that they wouldn't get feeling back. Oh, they got feeling back. Painful, throbbing feeling by the end of the race. But feeling, nonetheless!

Meg and I (and her duck) at dawn, pre-race. Um, yeah, it was cold.

We were getting lined up for the run and ran into my running buddies Pat and Jill. Pat is one of the race organizers, designed the medals and the t-shirts and is one of the best running partners there is. I was so happy to see them both. Then we started lining up according to pace times and Meg and I had to separate. We hugged, started to get teary and then separated. I was standing there by myself, feeling really nervous and then I spotted Carolyn, my other running buddy! I was so happy to see her and we were starting at the same pace so we could hang out until we started. She and I both started running last year and have both been on a weight loss journey. She has lost somewhere around 60 pounds and this is her second 1/2 marathon. We were standing there shivering talking about where we were a year ago and then I spotted this sign:

We both started crying at that point and I was like, great, I am not going to be able to breathe from crying! Then, we were off. I finally made it across the start line at 7:16 a.m. Carolyn was in my sight for a good part of the start and I put in my one headphone and started listening to the book, Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince. I cannot listen to music when I run because it screws up my pace, but listening to a book, especially one I've read or listened to before, is the perfect distraction for me. I can stay focused on running but have the story to keep my mind from going over to the dark, doubting, scary, you-can't-do-this side. I am huge Harry Potter freak and I love all of the books, so listening to it was such a comfort to me and I never had a mental moment. Never. I never once thought that I couldn't do this or feel like I was a gerbil on a wheel. It was incredible. First time in a race actually!

Meg and her duck at the start of the race.

At mile two I did get a little twinge in my left knee that scared me. I thought that if it kept up I was really going to struggle through the whole thing. I was on really uneven ground at that point and when the path evened out, my knee did, too, thankfully. I struggled with a couple of side stitches but overall felt great. I realized that I was running around a 12 or 12:30 minute per mile pace and was shocked. I also was afraid that I was going to get worn out so I kept telling myself that at the next mile, I would slow down. But what I realized is that I didn't need to. I didn't care about the time really at all. I just wanted to finish in three hours at least.

When I got to mile 4ish, my friend Deanna was one of the course marshals and seeing her smiling face gave me a real boost (which I really needed) and it got me excited to see Mike, my inlaws and friends at mile 6 where I knew they were waiting for me. My feet felt swift at that point and as I rounded Mile 6, I saw my friend Sarah, who just started running and has lost about 40 pounds (or more at this point) and she had a great sign for me and then started running with me. Then I saw my family and other friends, gave my husband a kiss, high-fived everyone and KEPT GOING!

Sarah (on my left) as I came up to my family and friends at mile 6.

I had a long stretch by myself but my book kept me company and so did some of the other runners. The volunteers were so cheerful, shouting out my name (which was on my bib) along the way. One sign held by a spectator said, "Your mom said to tell you hi!". That made me get teary again, which I had to suppress so I could keep my breathing even.

At one point, the first place marathoner passed me, which was cool to see. I tried to block out the fact that he has run twice as long as I had and that he was passing me. Then about 20 minutes later, the 2nd place marathoner was approaching. People on bikes were leading him getting people out of the way. They were yelling, "Second place runner coming!" I looked at the crowd and said, "I wish they wouldn't tell everyone I was 2nd, I mean, geez, I wanted everyone to be surprised!" That got a good laugh out of the crowd and boosted my spirits a little. Hey, if I can't be fast, I can be funny!

On to the home stretch...my feet were really sore and my hips were stiff. I walked through all of the aid stations, which were plentiful and so well stocked (with both refreshments and cheerleaders) but started right back up running as soon as I finished my water and gatorade and was rounding the corner to my last mile and half. There was Sarah again, who ran with me and reminded me that a mile and a half is nothing. Ha! Yeah, nothing after running almost 12 miles. She was so great though and gave me another boost I needed. I told her, this will be you next year, girl.

My buddy Sue!

Around the corner from the finish, I saw my mother-in-law which helped my feet keep moving, then I saw my friend and running buddy Sue. She was supposed to run the 1/2 but was injured so instead volunteered and was in charge of all of the aid stations. I knew that's what they were so great, she is the best and always takes such good care of all of us. She hugged me and ran and cheered me on through the "tunnel" as I called it to the finish line. I heard everyone cheering but couldn't see anything except that finish. I was bawling at this point and I heard the annoucer call my name and say, "YOU ARE A 1/2 MARATHONER!"

Bawling my sweaty head off at the finish.

I finished. No, I kicked ass.

Seeing my husband, Meg, Carolyn, Sue, my in laws, my friend Marty and her kids, and Sarah was one of the best feelings in the world. I had my medal around my neck. My husband holding me up and heart full of pride and love. What else can a girl ask for? Well, maybe some pancakes.

Finishing strong. Weepy, but strong.

Meg kicking serious ass. Finished in 2:12

Another awesome sign, made by Sarah!

A picture says a thousand words. This one says, "where are my pancakes?"

Besides my medal, I got this reward bracelet from my 6-year-old friend Cate. She's awesome.

Hell yes!