I Just Kept Running and Running

I signed up for two 5K races in October, both in the town where I live. One was last Saturday for the NAMI organization and the next one is October 22 for the United Way. As I’ve been training and doing my weekly runs, I told one of my running partners that my goal was to run the whole 3.1 miles for the October 22nd race. Well, lo and behold, I ended up running the whole thing last Saturday at the NAMI race!

Neighbor (notice Hiking Shoes), Facebook Friend, me and Bestie!

Remember that I am a slooooow runner, so it was a 15 minute mile for the whole thing. But I ran the whole darn thing, except one water stop which I walked through because I am not coordinated enough to run and drink at the same time and I also walked for about 30 seconds up a hill that was a little bit of a bugger and my hamstring was hurting. I also wasn’t by myself, which is always fun because it makes the whole thing go by faster. I made a friend through the Facebook running community in my area and she met me at the race and we ran together. It was great! Being lonely on the running trail makes an already tough thing much tougher. One of my besties did the race too (in an impressive 30 minutes) and a neighbor/good friend who is really new to running managed to bust it out in 32 minutes. In hiking shoes, no less. Everyone rocked it. It was one of those spectacularly beautiful days out, even a little chilly, and perfect for running. I felt so good during the race, I almost thought I had the mythical runner’s high. I wouldn’t call it “high” so much as “not-ready-to-fall/puke/passout/curselikeasailor/” feeling. I actually felt like I could have gone longer. I probably could have gone faster too, but I like my slow pace because I can sustain it. I would always rather be able to do the distance than go balls out to try to make a certain time. It’s not like I am a professional, or trying to win the race.

So, I have some interesting news. I am going to have to take a hiatus from writing this blog. I have been presented with an amazing opportunity that at this point is confidential so, unfortunately, I can’t tell you what it is. But the people involved with it have asked if I would stop blogging for now and resume after this opportunity is over, which is in four months. They said I can write my blog about the experience but not publish it until after what I’m doing is made public. I know this is so incredibly unfair to talk about and not be able to actually tell you what it is, but I signed a contract that said I wouldn’t talk about it in a public forum (aka my blog). So, there you have it. I hope all of you will stick with me until I can start blogging again. I promise you that what I’m doing is really positive and I can’t wait to tell you all about it. And no, I’m not pregnant. If it was that, I’d be shouting it from the rooftops.

I am so honored every time I hear from one of you who said my blog meant something to you, even if it was just for a laugh. Keep your fingers crossed for me that this exciting opportunity I am pursuing over these next four months pans out. I can’t wait to share it with you. And I promise, I’ll be back. xoxo

Sweaty Superheroes

I hate to sweat. I know, not a good thing to hate when you are working on your fitness, to quote Fergi. Ugh, did I just quote Fergi? Anyway, I really do hate to sweat. A couple of times a month I work a 3-10 shift and have the whole day to myself. That never, ever, happens and on those days, I somehow always end up being Super Slug Girl. Today was one of those 3-10 days and I vowed to break the cycle of lounging in my polar bear print jammies with coffee and backed up episodes of Masterpiece Theater Real Housewives of Insert City Name on the DVR. Today, I went out and bought new running shoes, which I’ve needed for a couple of weeks now and got myself out there on an almost-3 mile mostly-run. As I was working myself up to going out, the only thing that was holding me back was the thought of getting sweaty. Now, I was planning to shower anyway, much to the relief of my co-workers I’m sure, but I just didn’t feel like getting sweaty. And I’m a sweater. Not a sweater, a sweat-er. Two steps into my run and I’m red faced and sweating like a...like a...um, I usually use the idiom sweating like a whore in church, but I’ll be more delicate here. Sweating like snowball in summer. There, that’s a little more lady-like. My mom does read this blog after all. It was a beautiful, non-humid, 60 degree day today and I was still sweating like it was 100 degrees with 100 percent humidity. And I hate it. Hate, hate, hate. But, it felt great when I was done, as it always does and I was so happy to finally have my new shoes.

It really bugs me that you have to replace running shoes so often. They say every three to four months, but, like the oil change in my car, I usually drag it out to 6 months. But about three weeks ago, I started getting these horrible pains in my legs on the outsides of my calves and thighs when I was running and I knew it was my shoes. It’s the same pain every time my shoes wear out. Seriously, though, at a $100 bucks a pop, you’d think they would last longer. I guess it’s a good thing that I’m running so much that I’m wearing out my shoes, but can’t I wear out something cheaper, like a t-shirt? I have tons of those! But no, it has to be the $100 running shoes. As I’ve said before, do yourself a favor and get professionally fitted for running shoes and buy the good ones. They are the one thing not to go bargain basement on. And believe me, it’s hard for me because I don’t pay full price for A-N-Y-T-H-I-N-G, but I’ve learned the hard way that running shoes are definitely worth it. Case in point is that I had one of my best runs today, with the new shoes. I wear New Balance 860s, but everyone is different so again, go get fitted. Running stores will do it for you without an extra charge, usually, and their shoe prices are the same as if you were to go to the brand specific store. I don’t get fitted every time I buy new shoes, just once a year.

I had sort of a crappy week last week with eating and working out. I was slacking on getting the new shoes and I didn’t run much (two days only, blech) and decided that the world was ending and needed to eat everything in site and finish all of the wine in my wine rack. Okay, I’m exaggerating (a little) and what I’ve noticed lately that even my “bad” days (or weeks in this instance) are still not as “bad” as what I used to do. And I am right back on track. I had a great run today, have logged all of my food so far this week (granted, it’s only Tuesday but…) and am focused. Super focused. With x-ray eyes that will zap Super Slug Girl. And in the future, Super Fit Girl will emerge victorious. Sweating her ass off.

They're Here...

I’m being haunted.


I can feel them just outside my door.


Their quiet whispers beckoning me.


The thought of them causes a physical reaction in me.


Cold sweats.


Hair standing up on the back of my neck.


They repulse me yet I can’t look away.


They’re heeeeeere.


Where’s that little scary lady from Poltergeist when I need her? I need her to exorcise these demons. The colorful, sprinkle-coated, frosting-laden demons. Wait, what? Frosting laden demons? Did I say demons? I meant cupcakes.

Why am I always being haunted by cupcakes? I love them so with their whimsical colors and sugary swoosh of frosting. Vanilla? Sure! Chocolate? Yum! Red Velvet? You betcha!

So, I’m sitting here. Eating my cucumber slices and hummus, which, don’t get me wrong, are delicious. But not a cupcake. And if I hadn’t cooked shrimp in white wine and butter (yes, real damn butter) with polenta yesterday and used up the majority of my overflow Weight Watchers Points and, oh, I don't know, NOT gone running yesterday, well, maybe I would have indulged myself in one of those little beauties. But nooooooo. I HAD to have a decadent dinner last night. I HAD to drink wine Monday and Tuesday nights. I HAD to blow off running yesterday to watch Survivor.

Okay, I didn’t HAVE to any of those things. But I chose to. So now I have to choose again. Eat the cupcake and pay the price. Or don’t eat the cupcake and save the rest of my overflow Weight Watcher points for my Dinner Club this weekend? It’s like spending money you don’t have. Put in on a credit card! Or in this case, put it on my hips!

Alright, dammit. I’m not going to eat the cupcake. There, I said it to all of you so now I can’t do it. This house is clean.

NB: Lost 1.2 pounds this week for a total of 5.2 in three weeks. That alone is worth not eating the cupcake.

Lest We Forget

Note: This blog is a little different today. It’s a remembrance of the day our world changed forever and is dedicated not only to the people who lost their lives on that horrible day but more so to the people who have had to live their lives without them.

Before I became a chef, then an educator, I worked in corporate communications in the Financial Services industry. The company I worked for in Chicago has a sister office in New York, two blocks from the World Trade Center. I remember that morning, much like it is today…sunny, beautiful, a hint of Fall in the air but still feeling like summer. I got in the elevator to head to the 16th floor of my office building that was two blocks from the Sears Tower in the Financial District of the Loop. Someone on the elevator told me a plane hit the World Trade Center in New York and they think it might be terrorists. No way, I thought. Some idiot in a puddle jumper plane didn’t know what they were doing and hit the tower. Odd place to be flying though, I thought. Then I got into the office and the silence hit me like a ton of bricks. Where is everyone, I thought. I went into our lunch room and everyone was huddled around a TV. Then I saw the tower burning. Then I saw the second plane hit. Someone told me that they were on a conference call with the New York office and they heard the plane hit the tower over the phone. That memory stays with me the most. Hearing the plane hit. Seeing it on TV looked like a science fiction movie and it wasn’t quite real yet. Hearing it actually happen though, that’s another thing.

I went back to my office and looked out at the Sears Tower. I wonder if they are on their way here, I thought. I wanted to get the hell out of downtown as fast as possible. After the second tower fell and we heard about the Pentagon and Pennsylvania, the building announced it was closing and that people should get out of downtown just in case. We’re at war, I thought. I’ve never felt so scared or so alone in my whole life. My family was in Indiana. I lived with my best friend, whose birthday was that day by the way, and I just wanted to find her and get to our apartment as soon as possible. My phone rang and it was my oldest sister. Are you alright? Get out of the city, she said, panicked. I am. I am. I walked out to get on the “el” to go to my Lakeview neighborhood apartment and as I walked out of the building, everyone else was evacuating downtown too. The silence was eerie, and everyone was looking up to the sky. Everyone was silent on the “el” ride too, looking out the window to the sky. Looking for planes.

That day changed our world. The financial services industry lost a lot of people that day too, along with all of the other businesses, fire houses and police stations. The images on the news after that haunted me, and still haunt me. I can’t think about that morning without getting tears in my eyes and goosebumps on my arms and a pit in my stomach. I can remember every detail like it was yesterday. The only other experience in my life that has stayed with me as much and I can remember in such minute detail is the day I lost my dad almost ten years before September 11, 2001.

So today, on the anniversary, I wished my best friend (and her 2 year old who was born on this same day) Happy Birthday. I said a prayer. I thanked God for my life and the life of everyone I love. And I continue to pursue my goal of fitness because even though life is so short and you never know when your day will come, I want to be my best self when it does.

On that note, I had to ease up on running over the weekend because I strained my hamstring so I’ll be interested to see if I meet my weight loss goal when I weigh in tomorrow. My hamstring feels better today and I am going to go out for a long walk instead of running, and will start up again tomorrow when it is fully healed. The last thing I want to do is injure myself and derail the good role I am on. I’ll keep you posted.

Dear Jenny

Man, I am on a roll. I have been kicking butt these last two weeks. I’m down 4 pounds (two pounds a week, which is my goal) and running 4-5 days each week. I don’t know what has clicked in my head, but it’s all coming together. I think part of it is writing this blog and the forced self reflection it causes. I have a better understanding of the whys for getting fit and am realizing the benefits of resisting too much self indulgence (i.e., multiple trips to Dairy Queen). Again, only took me 20 years, but…

I was trying to think of some the daily things I have been doing to help keep myself on track to share with you in case they might be helpful:

I am a visual person and need conspicuous reminders of things to help me remember them. One of the tricks I’ve been using is to create a paper calendar for my bulletin board in my office that has my weekly goals listed on it. I weigh in each Monday and so on Mondays I have written in hot pink marker: GOAL: LOSE 2 POUNDS THIS WEEK. Then I write in blue marker my actual weight loss. I also write down the workout I want to do each day and then cross it off after I’ve completed it. I also wrote in big, bright orange letters across the top of the calendar, “Stay Focused on Your Goals. They’re worth it.” I stare at my bulletin board all day so it helps to keep me focused, especially when someone walks by with cupcakes. Which happens a lot, unfortunately.

I’ve made up these calendars through October because I have a doctor’s appointment then and I want to lose 14 pounds by the time I have the appointment. I tend to get overwhelmed easily when I think about this being a “lifelong” journey, so I’ve come to realize that shorter goals work better for me than thinking about the long term. When October rolls around, I’ll reevaluate and set another series of goals that will get me through Christmas and the end of the year. Oh, speaking of Christmas, I was in Costco the other day and they have all of their Christmas stuff out. Really? Christmas? I was pissed that a local store had Halloween stuff out in August, but Christmas? The thought of it makes me shudder. Don’t get me wrong, I’m no Scrooge, but come on. Even Santa himself would have seen that and thought, “Geesh, don’t I get a frickin’ break?” Anyway, once the end of the year hits, I’ll then start my training program again for the Batavia Triathlon in June 2012. So I’ll do another new calendar then, and so on. It’s also good for me to change it up after a while because once I look at something for a long time, I stop seeing it.

Not only am I a visual person, but I am also a distracted person. Very distracted, especially at work. I usually have a least 15 different balls up in the air and it’s easy to forget about my personal health goals. See previous comment about those damn cupcakes…I’m like a dog that sees a squirrel. I’m constantly on the computer, on my smart phone, on my iPad. One of them is always attached to me, unfortunately, so I found an app (yes, like I said before, there really is an app for e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g) that is called Life Reminders. I set it up so that each day I get a text message that says, “Track your food. Make smart choices. Work out. You’re worth it.” I also set up reminders about upcoming events and to save my Weight Watcher Points for them so I don’t overdo it. I set them to pop up on my phone at strategic times (before I usually eat breakfast, lunch and dinner) and more than once a week I say, “Oh yeah” and open my Weight Watchers app and track my food and activity once I get my reminder.

Some other things that I’m sure you already know but have been working for me:

• Set running (or whatever you do to workout) dates with a buddy. Not only is it more fun, but you’re more likely not to stand them up (I stand myself up all the time!). I also always, without fail, run faster, longer, better, when I’m with someone else. I’m waaaaaay too easy on myself. Although I only run with someone else once or twice a week so I don’t depend on it. I need to be self reliant, too. That way I don’t do the whole, “So-and-so can’t run today, so I’m not going to either,” bit.
  
• Pack food the night before. I get my breakfast ready the night before and pack my lunch bag (one of my many bags I schlep on the train to work) with a morning snack, lunch and a train-ride-home-snack. That way, I’m not starving when I get home and can then have the presence of mind to cook a healthy meal rather than go face down in a sack of cheeseburgers.
• Have a weekly weigh in that’s monitored by someone other than yourself. Accountability is key and you can justify anything to yourself. Not so much with a tough-as-nails Weight Watcher team leader, your best friend, your spouse, your doctor, a friend at work, or someone else who will keep you accountable.
• Only weigh in once a week. Weighing yourself every day isn’t sane because you really fluctuate throughout the week. Although I have been weighing myself on Fridays to motivate myself to stay on track on the weekends since my official weigh in is on Monday. If I’m down on Friday, I want to stay down so I toe the line a little more on the weekends. If I’m not down, then I want to get down by the time Monday rolls around so I work a little harder on the weekend to get there. So, okay, don’t weigh yourself more than twice a week, I guess. Just don’t get obsessed over the number is what I’m trying to say.
• Lay out your workout clothes where you can see them before you go to bed. It will be easier to get out there and pound out some miles if you're not fumbling around in the dark trying to find a sports bra and socks in the morning. It will also make whomever you are sleeping with happier.
• Work in treats. In case you didn’t know, I love ice cream. Shocker, I know since I never talk about it. I work it in once or twice a week so I don’t go crazy over it. I’m not eating a banana split or anything like that, but a small hot fudge sundae (or whatever your favorite indulgence is) that’s budgeted for in your eating plan is not only NOT going to kill you, but you’ll still lose weight and be happier for it.

So, there you have it. My advice blog on what’s been working for me lately. Knowing me, what I’m doing will have to change because like the dog that sees the squirrel, at some point, I’ll bound off in a different direction. Hopefully I won’t get hit by a car.

Of Courage and Other Things

I just heard this quote from Mary Anne Radmacher,

"Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the little voice at the end of the day that says I'll try again tomorrow."

Okay, “heard” is a bit of an exaggeration; I read it on someone’s Facebook status. I don’t even know who Mary Anne Radmacher is, but I like this quote. A lot. In my ever present pursuit of fitness, I’ve always thought of working out as working toward an end result. A race. A triathlon. A certain pant size. A big moment. Crossing that finish line, pumping your fist, weeping copiously. The “Roar.” In the past, fitness has always been about the Big Event for me. I’d complete the Big Event then stop what I was doing. Hey, I met and/or exceeded my goal. If that happens at work, I get a raise. Well, when I completed my Big Events and then gave up training, I got a raise too – my pant size. Somehow though, in the past several months, I’ve come to realize that true fitness isn’t about the big reveal.

It’s about dragging your rump out of the warm, soft, cozy bed in the morning when no one is watching, or clapping, or cheering you on and lacing up your running shoes and pounding out a few miles.

It’s about hauling a workout bag along with your briefcase, lunch bag, and whatever other bag you carry (why do I have so many bags?) on the train to fit in a lunchtime or after-work jog on the treadmill.

It’s about having only one glass of wine the night before your longer run early on Saturday morning and being okay with that. Or just doing it at all early on a Saturday morning. For me, that’s a feat in and of itself.

It’s about not giving up because you missed a day of working out, or pigging out because you “slipped” on your diet.

It’s about not comparing yourself to the abilities of others but aspiring to being a better version of yourself.

It’s about cussing like a sailor in your head (and sometimes out loud) the whole time you are running, but still doing it anyway.

Me with Marg and Rita.

Hey, it only took me 20 years to get here. Better late than never, right? Listen, I’ve completed a half marathon. I’ve completed two triathlons. I’ve completed numerous 5Ks. All of those are great accomplishments and I’m damn proud of them, but I’ve come to realize that they aren’t the point. From now on, I’m going to give myself a mental medal when I get my ass out of bed in the morning to run. I’m going to chant my own name as I swim laps. I’m going pump my fist after a long bike ride. Those are the true accomplishments. Doing it when you have a million other things going on, or people have expectations of you to do what they want, or you’re tired and you just don’t feel like it. In other words, having the courage to put yourself, instead of everyone and everything else, first.

Oh, it doesn’t always work. I’ve missed workout days. I’ve eaten some Dairy Queen. Okay, a lot of Dairy Queen. I’ve picked The Real Housewives of Insert City Name Here over a jog. I’ve made dates with a margarita rather than my running partner. But the difference now is that every time I don’t meet my expectations for my pursuit of fitness, I try again the next day. It’s easy sitting on the couch. It’s easy (and wonderful) to sleep in. It’s easy going through a drive thru. But like Tom Hanks said in A League of Their Own, “It’s supposed to be hard…the hard is what makes it great.”

Out of the Mouths of Babes

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I love kids. I don’t have them, but I love them. And I want my own. My future children are the main reason I am on this quest for fitness. I am a healthy person aside from the weight. I have no cholesterol or blood pressure issues, no diabetes, no aches and pains other than occasional workout soreness. I don’t get sick often other than the occasional allergy attack and I want it to stay that way. And I want to get pregnant and have a healthy pregnancy, so aside from fitting into those Calvin Klein jeans that are hanging in my closet that are just able to slide (ahem, get tugged) over my knees at this point, my whole purpose for this pursuit of fitness is not only to be able to have kids, but for them to only know me as their mom who runs, and does the occasional triathlon. Their mom who bikes and swims and can (and wants to) run and play and keep up with their spastic little selves. Not their overweight mom who is trying so darn hard to lose weight and fit in the occasional workout. I want to be The Fit Mom by the time they are able to understand the difference. Which, in my experience with all of the kids I know (and I know a lot of them), is that they understand the difference pretty darn quickly.

One of the things I love about kids is their brutal honesty. And it can be b-r-u-t-a-l for sure, but not because they’re brats (at least for most of them). It’s because they don’t know any other way to be than honest.  It can be so eye-opening to see yourself through untarnished-by-social-mores-and-fear-of-saying-the-wrong-thing eyes. Understand this - I have a terrible self body image. Oh, I’m not one of those girls who fits into size 2 jeans and complains that her butt looks fat. Not that kind of terrible self body image. I have a worst kind. The kind that thinks that I still have the body of a 16 year old high school pom pon girl, not of a 37 year old obese woman. In my head, I look great. And thin. And not at all old. Then I see a photo of myself and am shocked. Shocked! Every. Single. Time. Am I mental or what? So the other day when I was sitting with one of my favorite (and innocently, brutally, honest) seven year olds and a very large woman walked by and she nonchalantly said to me, “That looks like you,” I was shocked. Yet again. Yes, mental, indeed.

I’ve come to realize that this is the reason that I’ve been fluctuating so badly with my weight over the last several months. Up one week, down the next. Up again, down again. I’m working out regularly and still doing Weight Watchers. But I have one good week, then start slacking on the eating and food tracking the next. Then I gain the weight back and buckle back down. What is the definition of insanity? Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results, right? So while the seven year old’s observation stung and I was tempted to retort with, “Yeah, well, I’m rubber and you’re glue and whatever you say bounces off of me and sticks to you,” with my nose crinkled and my foot stomping, I remembered that I am not seven, nor am I 16. I’m on a journey and I need to stick to it. Because this journey ain’t gonna end folks. It’s going to be for the rest of my life. Even when I hit my “goal” weight, whatever that is, and am strutting around in those Calvin’s. And for the sake of my future wee ones, I need to stick to it. Think of the children (she says with dramatic inflection). But seriously, I need to remember that woman/mirror image of me who walked by and remember that I want my own brutally honest kid telling me something that I’d rather not, but need to, hear.

Pea Soup and Other Conundrums

When I stopped running after the Indianapolis Half Marathon in 2004, I would occasionally make semi-feeble attempts to start running again. But, if the weather wasn't perfect and I wasn't completely in the mood or if it was a day that ended in “y”, I'd have an excuse to not have to do it. Mostly it had to do with the weather. Especially cold weather, or hot weather, or too-breezy weather, or not-breezy-enough weather. You get my drift. So when I got up last Saturday morning to do the Eagles Run in North Aurora, IL and it was drizzling rain and felt like the inside of a sauna, I was a little more than shocked that I actually went out and did it. And I wasn’t last! Not that I really care all that much if I am last or not, but not being last means I’m progressing slightly. My time was a little better than my last 5K, by a minute. For super fast runners, shaving a minute off of their time is a huge feat. For 16-minute mile runners like yours truly, shaving a minute off is the equivalent taking off your sweater when you weigh yourself to save that couple of ounces it weighs. However, I am improving and that’s a darn good thing.


This race was great for several reasons (other than I wasn’t last and I was a minute faster). One of my best friends stayed the night and did the 10K race while I did the 5K. She lives two hours from me and we’ve been besties since we were 11 years old so getting to spend any time with her at all, even if it’s her lapping me to finish the 10K before I’m done with my 5K, is more precious than gold. By the way, when she was lapping me, she slowed down so she could finish with me and I, literally, pushed her to keep going and finish on her own terms, not mine. I love her for wanting to encourage me, but I’d rather be chasing her than feeling guilty for slowing her down. I know she doesn’t see it that way, but I admire her so much that I wanted her to be her best, too!


The run was through the campus of Mooseheart which is a community and school for children and teens in need. It is a beautiful and slightly enigmatic place that I’ve lived down the street from for over four years and never been in to see. You can see photos of the run here. It was lovely and peaceful and would have been perfect had I not felt like I was running through lukewarm pea soup. I’ve never sweated so much in my entire life. I looked like a drowned rat and my inappropriate cotton running clothes didn’t help.

Me, in my inappropriate running attire, with my bestie!

This leads me to my latest conundrum. Finding suitable running clothes. Right now I look like a homeless person most of the time when I’m out running. A sweaty, red-faced homeless person. But let me tell you, finding affordable running clothes that fit more than my left thigh is difficult. There are some great sites online for plus sized workout clothing (I hate the term plus sized by the way. There are no plusses to buying big girl clothes, trust me) but I hate buying clothes that I can’t try on and they are expensive! Really expensive. And retail stores apparently don’t think big girls want to work out in appropriate attire. So, I'm on a quest. I am doing some online shopping to find good, affordable clothes that actually fit properly and also seeing what I can find in retail stores. We’ll see what I come up with. I’m not even asking for them to be cute, God forbid. I just don’t want someone handing me change while I’m out running. Or maybe that’d be a good way to save up to buy the new running clothes. Hmmm…

I'll Think About it in the Morning...

This week, I managed to do something consistently that I've never been able to manage before...I've been running in the MORNING! Three days this week. Now, you have to understand, this is an enormous feat for me. E-N-O-R-M-O-U-S! Ask my husband, ask my friends, ask my family. I am not a morning person. And that's really putting it mildly. I love sleep. I hate waking up from a good sleep. I get up at the very last second I possibly can in order to get ready for work and still be on time. Literally, to the nanosecond. I am terrible at math but can calculate with utter precision how much longer I can sleep in the morning and still be on time. The snooze button is my best friend, much to the chagrin of my husband and any roommate I've ever had. I can't just pop out of bed when my alarm goes off. I have to slowly be cajoled out of sleep until I can drag myself out of the sweet, sweet slumber and get my day going.

People have tried to give me tricks like, "Put the alarm clock on the other side of the room so you have to get out of bed to turn it off." Doesn't work. I just slide right back in to my warm bed without even opening my eyes. I'm not a night person either. I go to bed between 9:30 and 10:30 most nights. I'm a sleep person. Over the years I've tried and tried to become a morning person. I actually love mornings, I just wish they weren't so damn early. I love the dawn light, the birds chirping, the silence of no cars on the road. It's so peaceful and pleasant. It's just too early! Even if I went to bed at 8:00 p.m., I'd still sleep until 9:00 a.m. if I could. I just love sleep that much. Hey, did I mention I love sleeping?

But over the weekend, I was feeling blue because my motivation level for exercise and healthy eating was nil. And when I'm not working out and eating well consistently, I feel like crap and even less likely to want to do those things. It's a vicious little cycle. So come Sunday, I was feeling bloated and cranky and we were about to be invaded by the (insert ominous music here) HEAT DOME. It was about to get hot. Real hot. And living in the Midwest that also means humid. But Sunday night I somehow got my motivation back and was determined to have a healthy week. So what could I do? I couldn't run when I got home from work because the heat index was 100 degrees with 1 million percent humidity. If I tried to run in that they would have found my sweaty carcass by the river. So I decided I would run in the morning, no matter what. I have also been blowing off Weight Watchers and made a vow to pay the piper and weigh in on Monday and start tracking again.

I laid out my running clothes that night (the less I have to think in the morning, the better off I am) and woke up at 6:00 a.m. Monday morning. Bleary eyed, I put on my nicely laid out clothes, brushed my teeth and stepped outside into what I thought was fog but, once I blinked, realized that my contact lenses had fogged up because it was already so hot and humid. I'm not kidding. My effing contacts actually fogged up. Nice. This was going to be interesting. I powered through, though. Got home, sweated through my shower and started my day. I actually finally stopped sweating about half way through my train ride to work. Then I did the same thing on Wednesday and then again on Friday. The nice thing about Friday's run was that it had rained and temperature (not the humidity, mind you) dropped and it was down right pleasant. The whole week the temperatures were in the high 90s with heat indexes in the 100s so 75 degrees at 6:30 a.m. actually felt a little chilly.

I saw a good friend today and we chatted for a little and she asked me why I had so much energy. I told her about my morning running and healthy eating all week and I realized at that moment just how great I felt. My stomach is flatter, I'm not at all tired, and I'm chipper. Even at work. Even after waking up before I absolutely had to. What is this world coming to?

Kool with a Kay

What do you hope you are still doing at age 70 that you do now? Now, don't get dirty on me, but yes, I hope I'm still doing that too.

I completed the Batavia Windmill Whirl 5K on Friday, July 8 and was...drumroll please...dead last again. That's okay, though. As my darling husband says, "You were still ahead of everyone who didn't do it." Yes, yes I was. Thank God for him. I did this race by myself and he stuck with me and kept me out of my head until the race started and was smiling at the finish line when I ambled in.

My biggest supporter and darling husband.

During the run, I met Kay. She was at the end of the pack with me, alternating walking and running like I was. She was 69 years old and had just walked a half marathon a couple of weeks before the Batavia 5K. I was using a coaching app on my phone (Runkeeper.com) that helped me keep pace. I had my phone strapped to my arm and every three minutes, Miss Cool Voice on the app would remind me to either walk or run. Kay was enthralled by my talking arm and asked if she could "keep up" with me. "Of course!" I said. It would be nice not to be alone and she was a doll. I put "keep up" in quotes for a reason, read on.

She couldn't jog for the whole three minutes but could walk much faster than I could so we pretty much stayed together the whole time. An older gentleman passed us and encouraged us to keep it up. "He's 70, one year older than me," Kay said. We chatted while we jogged/walked and she told me about the races she does with her daughter. Kay walks, her daughter runs. And she said something that really stuck with me. "Keep this up [training and doing races] because when you're my age, everything is so much harder to do and if you stick with this, it won't be." I kept picturing myself at her age and the two alternatives I could be: active and participating in things like 5K's, meeting new people and dispensing wisdom to the youngsters or inactive with God-knows-what kind of medical issues, sitting around in a moomoo dispensing wisdom to my cats. I'll take door number one, thankyouverymuch.

Finished!

As we got closer to Mile 2, Kay asked if I minded if she walked ahead. Of course I didn't mind. So she walked ahead and I continued my slow three minutes walking, three minutes jogging. She smoked me in the last mile and I had to smile thinking of her asking me if she could keep up with me. When I finally crossed the finish line, not only was my darling husband there snapping photos like I just finished an Ironman (love him so much), Kay was waiting for me with a big hug and thanks for helping her to get through the race. "I helped you?" I laughed. "You're the one who helped me!" In more ways than she knows.

Got Inspiration?

What inspires you?

I get inspired by a lot of things for different reasons. Fresh produce inspires me to cook, seeing the way things grow inspires me to garden, reaching a student inspires me to go to work every day (that and the beautiful little thing we call a paycheck), beautiful artwork inspires me to decorate my house, my husband inspires me to love, my friends inspire me to be a better and stronger woman. So if I'm so easily inspired, why in the hell can't I get inspired to work out? Why?

Put a task in front of me at work and I give it 1000 percent. Challenge me to find a way to make a healthy dish taste sinful, well, you can check out my published cookbooks at the library (or buy them!). Can't figure out how to solve a problem, send it my way and I'll likely have it fixed within the day. So why? Why is working out so hard for me to conquer? Why would I rather come home and veg out with a book or a favorite TV show than go for a run or a bike or a swim? The weather is perfect. I'm getting in better shape so it's not quite as difficult as it was before. I enjoy being outside. I love being in the water. Why is it so hard? Am I just lazy? I don't think I am. I can work circles around most people. I really don't have an answer.


So as I was writing this, I was reading it over and I got annoyed at myself. So I just went and worked out. 1.75 miles on the treadmill. There's my inspiration. Stop whining and just go do it. It doesn't always have to be fun, or rewarding. It just has to get done. Just like the dishes, just like that report you don't feel like writing, just like taking the train to work. You just have to do it. I just have to do it. So, I did it. And will again tomorrow.

Side note, I signed up for a 5K on July 8 in my town during the town's summer festival. And I'm actually looking forward to doing it. How inspiring!

Back in the Saddle

So it’s been a little over a week since the Batavia Triathlon and I’ve been in full slacker mode. Not working out, not logging my food, possibly eating ice cream more than once a week. Okay more than twice a week. Ack! This is my M.O. I do one big thing like the Tri and then stop all together. I did it when I did the first Triathlon 9 years ago. I did it again after the Indy Half Marathon 7 years ago. Some people need a week to recover. I, apparently, need two years. Well, it’s not going to happen again.

I haven’t officially signed up yet, but I will be competing in the Go Girl Triathlon in Indianapolis, Indiana on August 27. There are several beautiful things about this Tri: 1. It’s all women. Not that I don’t thoroughly enjoy the eye candy that are male triathletes but there is something about a women-only sporting event that is a little more comforting. I don’t know why I think this because, honestly, women are way more judgmental than men are but it’s not so much about being judged as it is feeling that sisterly camaraderie with a group of women all going for the same goal. Plus, chicks rule. 2. It’s in Indy, which is doubly exciting because one of my dearest friends just moved there and I’ll be staying with her and her new hubby (and I think I have her talked in to doing her first Tri with me). 3. It’s shorter than my last Triathlon! Woot! The swim is a little longer, 500 meters, but the bike is 10 miles (instead of 14.7) and the run is a 5K (instead of 4.1).

The only downfall is that it’s that it’s at the end of August and it is likely to be super hot out. The day of the Batavia Triathlon was ridiculously perfect. Couldn’t have been any better. 70 degrees was the high. Sunny. No humidity. That won’t happen at the end of August, but I’ll be in even better shape by then, and hopefully won’t lose my nutrition replacement and Gatorade on the bike like last time.

Now I just need to get motivated to get back to my training regimen. I am going to reread my favorite parts of Slow, Fat Triathlete and gaze at the photos of my finish at the Batavia Tri to get the blood pumping again. I am also going to do a couple of 5Ks this summer, which should help keep me motivated to work out. Here’s hoping. I have to stop using lame excuses too like, “Well, my tailbone still hurts from the Tri” or “Wow, my quads are still really sore.” Lame, lame, lame. I don't even really know what a "quad" is. It just sounds cool. Anyway, my goal is to get at least four days of something in this week. Even if it’s a short run or bike. Something to get back on track (or the track!).

Thank you to everyone who has read and/or commented on my little blog, emailed, posted on Facebook, called, and sent me letters congratulating me on completing the Batavia Tri. Your love and support means the world to me and it really helps to keep me motivated to become the healthy athlete I’ve always dreamed of being. If any of you are reading this thinking that you can’t do something because of your weight, or age, or whatever, think again. I crossed that finish line and the hardest part about it was getting to the starting line. Okay, that, and swimming in freezing water, fighting the mental demons who wanted to make me stop, being last on the bike, etc. But that’s all conquerable stuff. You don’t have to do a Triathlon. I just happen to like that sport. But you can do something, even if it’s walking around the block. Okay, that was my Tony Robbins moment of the day. I’m not in this to motivate anyone to do anything. It’s really just about me and getting myself mentally and physically where I want to be. But if my words do help, well, that’s just icing on the cake. Mmmmm, icing.

Last But Not Least

I did it! I completed the Batavia Triathlon in 2 hours and 49 minutes and was DEAD LAST. Yep, bringing up the rear, the anchor, the caboose. That was me and I’m damn proud of it. Here’s how it happened.

I started the weekend of the Triathlon on Friday frantically searching for a race shirt. I realized that I didn’t have anything to wear over my triathlon bathing suit, which is a fancy way of saying a bathing suit that has built in shorts. I wanted something bright enough so everyone could pick me out of the crowd (as if I wouldn’t stand out enough amongst the skinnys) and would cover my butt. So I went to a different super-mega sports store (I didn’t want to patronize the one where the sales associate was mean to me about the Bodyglide, see March Blog, The Smell of Accomplishment) and found nothing but tiny little shorts and baby t-shirts that would (maybe) fit my left arm. So I went to the men’s section and found a neon yellow running shirt that was perfect. I lied to the sales clerk that it was for my husband (“He just loves yellow!” I chirped) and challenge one was down. Except that I kept spontaneously bursting in to tears every time I thought about the race. Not sure if it was from excitement or terror. Probably a little from column A and a little from column B but it was

Whew, look at the bright yellow shirt!

really inconvenient to keep unexpectedly sobbing.

Then my husband got sick. Real sick. Like, in bed coughing, stuffed up, sinus infection sick. My two girlfriends who were also doing the race were coming Saturday evening to spend the night since the race started so early and they live in the city. So my plans for my biggest supporter to take care of me and clean the house and cook us a nice carb filled dinner so I could rest and hydrate all day went right out the window. Not that he could help it, of course, but I then had my pre-race day filled with cleaning, washing towels, getting my oil changed, grocery shopping and cooking dinner, all while organizing and packing my gear for the race and trying to remember to drink water. It was actually better that I had so much to do because it was keeping my mind off of freaking out about the race but in the moment, I was stressed. And I didn’t want to be stressed. And stress makes me overeat, which I did. Spectacularly. Not a good way to go in to the last 12 hours before the race. Oh well. My girls came and we had a great dinner of corn on the cob, burgers on the grill, roasted potatoes, a beautiful tomato and cucumber salad that Meg made, chips and salsa from Liz and a cookie pizza that Meg also made. Yep, Cookie Pizza. Mmmm. We gorged, removed nail polish, took a drive of the race route, organized our stuff and had a great time.

So Sunday morning (race morning!) came and I woke up at 3:45 a.m. so I could drink a cup of coffee and give it time to kick in and help me, um…what’s the most delicate way to put this? Help me…uhhh…errrrr… poop. Yes, poop, okay? Not a lovely topic but the thought of having to go during the race was horrifying to me and I wanted to be empty so I didn’t have any issues. Also, the thought of stripping off my bathing suit and going in a port-o-potty was just too much for me to handle. I can barely go in the toilets at work. You think I’d be able to go, naked, on a port-o-john? That’s the stuff my nightmares are made of so I was determined to go before we left for the race. Success! That’s the last I’ll speak of poop (for now!). We ate a little breakfast, gathered our gear and headed to the race, which was a five minute bike ride from my house. We got there, got set up, got our bodies marked with our race numbers and ages and waited.

The swim went pretty great. Liz and I were in the last wave of swimmers so ended up starting about half an hour into the race. Meg did the duathon so she ran two miles while we swam. The water was freezing though and it was a cold morning so the shock took the breath out of me and I struggled a little. I also got hit in the face with either a foot or a hand, I wasn’t sure, and my goggles got smushed onto my face but I quickly rectified that and swam the 400 meters in 10 minutes and 18 seconds. Half the time I thought it would take! Yay! I ran to the transition area, which was in a gravelly parking lot (not so nice on the bottom of bare feet), got my shoes and socks on, my neon yellow shirt, helmet, and gloves and took off with my bike. Meg made us these great, bright yellow ducks that she personalized for us to tape to the bike rack where our bikes were so we could find them easily. It was so thoughtful and so brilliant and as I was running to my bike with no problem because I spotted my little duck I was thanking my sweet Meg.

Meg, me and Liz with our ducks.

You have to run your bike out and can only get on it once you are out of the transition area, which is smart, so that people don’t crash. I was off and one of the last people out of the transition area. As I headed out, I grabbed a Gu Chomp to eat and promptly dropped the bag of them on the road. Nice. There went my energy replacement. That’s okay, I still had a big water bottle filled with Gatorade. That would get me through. At mile one I saw my husband which gave me a nice boost of energy. At mile three I took a big swig of my Gatorade and (thought) I put it back in its holder until I heard it hit the pavement and roll away. Great. There went my hydration. And only 11.7 miles to go. Crap. I was passed by a couple of people and finally realized that I was dead last as the police car with his lights on pulled up behind me and stayed behind me for the entire rest of the bike leg. As we passed volunteers and other police officers I kept hearing, “Yep, this is the last one!” which was super motivating! Really. But I kept reminding myself to just ignore him and peddle away. It was easy to ignore him until I saw his lights reflected in street signs but, whatever. I decided that I had to laugh at it so every time we passed a volunteer or other police officer I pointed back at him with my thumb and yelled, “I’m so important that I need a personal escort.” Ah, what would I do without my best defense mechanism, humor? Better to be funny than pathetic, right? The bike was a tough, hilly 14.7 miles but I screeched into the transition area and managed a time of 1 hour and 19 minutes. Not too shabby. My legs were jelly and my arms were shaking like a detoxing heroin addict. I had another water bottle in the transition area so I tried to drink out of it but was shaking so badly that I poured it up my nose. So spluttering, and shooting water and snot out of my nose, I de-helmeted, grabbed a pair of shorts to throw on over my bathing suit and headed out for the run. If you think you can be demur or dainty at all while doing a triathlon, think again. I literally blew a snot rocket out of my nose on to the pavement. As my husband would say whenever I do something gross and guy-like, “My blushing bride.” I was disgusting. But kept going!

Here came the hardest part. As I started out on the 4.1 mile run, all of these people were done with the race and were coming back to get their bikes. They were done and I was just starting the hardest part and my mind went haywire. My inner monologue sounded something like this: “People are done. Done. Oh my God. I can’t do this. I have my phone. I can call Mike. He’ll come get me. All of these people are done? Oh my God, I’m last. Everyone is staring at me. I can’t do this, I can’t do this, I can’t do this.” I couldn’t stop the horrible thoughts. My legs felt like lead. Was I moving forward or just standing there? I couldn’t tell. I kept walking. I wasn’t about to try and run yet. What’s running? Am I moving? People were cheering me on, yelling, “You can do it.” I wanted to flip them off, or throw a hammer at their heads, but they were just being nice so I smiled and said thanks. One foot in front of the other. That’s what I kept saying to myself. I finally got the right words going through my head. One foot in front of the other. Then I saw them. My husband, my father-in-law, my mother-in-law and Meg, who just finished her race with a personal record. Shit. Here come the tears. “I’m struggling!” I shouted as I passed their sweet, cheering faces. Meg asked if I wanted her to come with me. “No,” I squeaked out and kept walking. And crying. Then I heard her run up to me. “I’m coming with you”, she said. Okay. She just finished this race and started the last 3 miles of it all over again with me. Thank God she did. She saved me. She got me to stop crying and hyperventilating. My shorts were driving me crazy so she carried them for me. She got an extra cup of water for me at each water stop and carried it for me. She saved me. We walked the whole thing and came around a corner that was about 150 yards from the finish line and saw Liz waiting for us. She finished strong and came back to find us. She was flying high and her happiness and endorphin buzz filled me with energy. 100 yards left. “Run it in!” Meg yelled and gave me a push.

I started running and then all I could see was a sea of people yelling and clapping for me. Me. They were chanting my name and there it was. The Finish Line. The beautiful, glorious finish line. So I ran and sobbed and ran and sobbed and crossed

Finish strong!

the finish line, falling into the arms of my dear, sweet husband, my two best friends who came out to see us race, and my mother-in-law and father-in-law and we all laughed and cried and cheered. All of these strangers were clapping me on the back, hugging me, congratulating me, bringing me water and Gatorade. Telling me I was an inspiration. It was at once one of the most touching, exciting, slightly humiliating, overwhelming and fulfilling moments of my life. I finished. I finished strong. Liz told me she saw people bailing after the bike. I didn’t bail. I finished. Last, but certainly not least.

She's Makin' a List...

I love making lists. I have work lists, home lists, grocery lists, to do lists and "making a list" on my list. I even put things on my lists that I've done already just so I can cross them off. I know, nutso! I'm also hyper organized for events, so much so that I drive everyone around me crazy. I just don't like when things go wrong and I try to avoid any mishaps as much as possible. Things inevitably go wrong and I can roll with it, but I like to be prepared for every worse possible scenario. Gee, worry much? It's a family trait, unfortunately, and worrying and planning and list-making is in my blood. Some people pass down traditions like Sunday dinners, yearly family photos, making tamales on Christmas. My family has passed on the perfect recipe for a good dose of worrying. Add one dash of teeth grinding with a cup of clenched stomach and sprinkle liberally with a pounding heart and you have one spectacular batch of stress. Don't get me wrong, we do the other family tradition stuff, especially cooking traditions and even have a family cookbook. But worrying is our forte! So, needless to say, I'm making my plans for the weekend of the Triathlon, which is in SIX DAYS! Yes, count them. SIX! Yikes. Hear that? That's my heart pounding.

Thankfully, I don't have to make my plans from scratch. I mentioned in a previous blog about the book, Slow, Fat Triathlete by Jayne Williams. The book is wonderful for anyone who wants to try a Tri - fat, skinny, in shape, out of shape. In that book, she has a chapter about getting ready for the race which includes a race plan and a...drumrollllllllll...a CHECKLIST for all the gear needed to get through it. I'm even adding things to my list like, "Open package of Gu Chomps before starting on the bike so you don't have to do it on the ride." When I say I obsessively plan for everything, I wasn't kidding. So hopefully I'll have everything I need but I guess as long as I have running shoes and my bike I can manage finishing the race.

I had a great week of training. I logged about 40 miles of riding last week and did some eye-opening brick training that made me realize the race is going to probably take longer than I thought. That's okay, though. As my dear friend Meg told me, the all about getting to the start line. Once you're there, you do your best. She and I rode the Triathlon route on Sunday and I feel so much more confident about doing it. It was hard, don't get me wrong, but knowing the route makes the stress level a lot lower. I'm very amped up about doing the race. I feel confident I'm going to finish. I'm not going to break any records (unless there's a medal for the sweatiest person to cross the finish line) but I am going to finish and, as Jayne Williams says, smile through the whole thing.

Wish me luck. Send me positive vibes. Say a prayer that I can continue to put one foot in front of the other. I'll be thinking of all of you pulling for me and feel all of the wonderful thoughts you have for me. Thanks for supporting me in my little blog and my big effort to finish this Tri.

I am doing the Go Girl Triathlon in Indianapolis in August and I'll continue to regale you with my training stories and thoughts on life, so you're not rid of me yet! And I'll post after the Batavia Tri to let you know how it goes. I can't wait to write about it after it's over and I'm sipping on an Aleve cocktail and clinking the ice, not in my glass, but on my knees. xoxo

Two Weeks to Tri

Brown County Indiana State Park - on a hike around Ogle Lake.

The countdown is on! The triathlon in is two weeks and I can't believe it! May has been a nutty month for me, with lots of festivities going on including the wedding (and corresponding fun activities like the Bachelorette Party) of one of my closest friends and a lovely trip to Brown County, Indiana with my mom, sisters, aunt and cousins. While festivities are great and all, it makes it hard to stay on track with training and healthy eating. I've done pretty well, though, all told. I am still down from my initial weight when I started back to Weight Watchers at the end of April (3 pounds total) and have managed to maintain a steady workout schedule which included a spectacular hike in the Brown County Indiana State Park. While not as stringent as I'd have liked it to be, I did my best. And that's what I plan to do on June 12...my best.

These next two weeks are dedicated to brick training (refresher course on brick training, which is doing two of the three triathlon activities in a row like biking to running or swimming to biking) and organizing my gear for the day of the race. I've taste-tested some gels and chews for energy for the day of and have decided on Gu Chomps in the Orange flavor. I have a weird texture thing with some foods and the gels are too gooey for me and sorta make me gag (pleasant, eh?) and the Jelly Bean ones I tried made me choke, plus they had a nasty aftertaste. The Gu Chomps are chewy, but not too chewy and are pretty tasty with no yucky aftertaste. I'm going to need all of the help I can get that day and finding the right energy boost is essential (not choking or gagging is helpful, too). They say you need an energy boost for every hour of continuous exercise. I really have no idea how long the triathlon is going to take me so I am going to be sure to stock up.

My best estimation on my times for the race is that the swim will probably take me 20 minutes since there will be a lot of people swimming in a smaller space than I'm used to. The bike will likely take me an hour and a half or so. My pace is about a five minute-mile on the bike but I am rounding up to six minutes to work in recovery time from the swim and depending on the heat of the day. We start super early, so hopefully it won't be one of those scorcher days. Then the dreaded run...well, who knows? I'll probably walk a good portion of it but can hope to do it in an hour-ish. Work in 5 minutes or so for transition times (two transitions between the swim and the bike and the bike and the run), possibly longer if my legs get wobbly, and we're looking at three hours plus.

Three hours; whew, that's long. There's not much I like doing for three hours straight, least of all exercise, but I'm getting pretty pumped about the actual race. I'm not an overly competitive person, so I can't count on the thrill of competition to get my blood pumping so I'm going to focus on all of the people out there who think they can't do something because they think they're too fat, or old, or young, or because someone told them they couldn't. I'll remember the people who looked at me like I was kidding when I told them I was doing a triathlon, or who acted like I didn't belong in a sports store, or who are doubting that I can (or will) actually do it. It may not be fast, it may not be pretty, but I'll do it and while I'm soaring away on my bike, or huffing and puffing on the run, I'll be thinking about all of you, my cheerleaders, and planning my next race.

I Want to Ride My Bicycle, I Want to Ride My Bike

I love that song by Queen, Bicycle Race. I'm not one of those people who looks for deep meaning in song lyrics - I either like a song or I don't, hence my eclectic range of musical tastes - but I do like the actual lyrics in this song because to me it feels like it's just about enjoying life, not worrying about what's going on in the world, not caring if people disagree with you or judge you. It just about riding your frickin' bike. And that's what I finally did! Last week, I left work early, caught an early train and got my fat bottomed girl self on my bike and I rode like the wind. Note: the fat bottomed girl line is a reference to a lyric in the Queen song. I'm not being mean to myself but let's face it, this baby's got back, and back, and back (another song I love, ha!).

Fox River Trail before the trees bloomed and
I could still breathe through my nose.

Dam on the Fox River

So like I said, I finally (FINALLY!) took my beautiful bike out for a nice 6.5 mile ride. I'm so lucky to live where I live and have a gorgeous trail to ride on along the Fox River. I used to bike ride and run along Lake Michigan on the path in the Chicago when I lived there and the Fox River Trail makes me feel like I didn't have to give up something so wonderful when I moved out to the 'burbs. Plus there are much fewer people on this path and I'm not putting my life on the line to go out on trail like I did on the path in the city. I saw and heard of more accidents on that path than you'd believe so I'm grateful to have the Fox River Trail. Beautiful and safe!

The ride went great. It was tough at first because you use a totally different set of muscles for biking than you do for running. And while I was extolling the virtues of my ample behind in a previous blog with regards to it acting as a flotation device, thus helping me swim a little better, it's not such an asset on the bike. But it was still a great ride and it was wonderful to feel the breeze and to move quickly. When you are a slow runner, it's painfully obvious how slow you are and how each mile feels like twenty. But when you're biking, now, there's a different story! I wear my cell phone on an arm band and use the Runkeeper app to gauge my mileage for running and biking (and for safety reasons). It uses GPS and helpfully announces your distance every 5 minutes in a cool, semi-robotic female voice. When running, that robotic voice telling you that you've only gone 0.25 miles in 5 minutes can get, um, what's the word...irksome, to say the least. But on the bike, it ticks off the miles and is thrilling. I wish it also shouted out encouragement or had a mechanism that would yell obscure things at people as you pass them just to mess with them, but that's probably a different app (and I'm sure it exists, there's an app for everything...even an app to find obscure apps, I'm not kidding).

The bike ride for the Triathlon is 14.5 miles so I'm a little nervous about it, especially the fact that I have to run 4 miles after that but it was reassuring to be out there on the bike and to hit a good distance on the first time out.

In other happy news, I lost 3.5 pounds last week on Weight Watchers. I can't say enough about how great the program is, how user friendly (it has an app too!) and how much I love it. I'm not a spokesperson and am not getting paid to talk about it (I wish!). It's just an awesome program that really helps and if you need to lose any amount of weight I highly recommend it because it can fit into any lifestyle.

Lastly, on a personal, non-workout related note, one of my closest friends is getting married this weekend. We've known each other since we were babies, went to school and church together our whole lives, grew up down the street from each other, worked at the good old family Dairy Queen together and have stayed friends and Dinner Club mates our entire adulthood. She is like a little sister to me and I couldn't be happier for her and her darling husband-to-be. He is one lucky guy and I can't wait to earn Weight Watchers Activity Points dancing my fat bottom off at her wedding.

Much love and happiness to all of you, too, who are out there reading my blog. I'm flabbergasted that you like to read my ramblings and your sweet comments stay with me while I huff and puff my way along to June 12 and after. Count down to the Tri is 5 weeks! Send my running shoes strong thoughts please! xo

Counting Down

It is finally, spectacularly beautiful outside! And guess what? I'm sitting indoors. I was listening to a commercial this morning on the radio and a guy was interviewing people on the street. He asked the question, "What do you want the most?" I thought about that and besides the obvious like world peace and the ability to eat unlimited amounts of ice cream and not gain weight, I thought, "I want to have summers off again."

Remember how great it was, when it was the last day of school and you knew that you had months of unlimited sleeping in time, laying out time, playing moonlit tag time? Ah, summer. My favorite time of year and I spend 50-60 hours a week of it indoors working and commuting. The old saying is definitely true, youth is wasted on the young. Do you know what I could do with a whole summer off? Oh, the possibilities. I remember the first summer I didn't have off and, boy, was that a slap in the face. I always worked before I had a career, from the time I was 12 years old I was slinging Dairy Queen or babysitting or working retail or in a restaurant, but there's a big difference between a part time job in the summer and working full time in the summer. Thankfully we have more daylight in the summer so we can at least enjoy part of the summer days once we are home from work. And I am lucky enough to work at a company that gives us summer hours on Fridays (we close at 2:00), which is incredible.

That being said, I am really enjoying running outside in the nicer weather and am so glad it's finally here. The problem is that I STILL haven't been on my bike. It is still Spring after all and it just so happens to rain on the days I have the time to bike. The only other day I had open to bike was last Sunday but seeing as I drank my weight in Skinnygirl Margaritas and Vodka and Club Sodas the night before at one of my closest friend's Bachelorette party, I wasn't running anywhere except to my couch to sleep the day away. Pathetic, isn't it? Someone who is a hardcore triathlete who would read this would scoff at my dedication to my training but I'm not a hardcore triathlete and I am a realist. I enjoy my life and am going to live it. Could I have skipped that last cocktail and purple frosted cupcake at midnight? Yes, I could have. But, I didn't. Am I going to beat myself up about it? No, I'm not. I mean, don't get me wrong, I was cursing myself when I woke up to the world's worst headache and a tongue that felt like people were walking across it with wool socks on, but once I recovered I didn't let it derail me.

As I said in my last blog, I started back to Weight Watchers last week and thankfully, it is a realistic program that lets you work in things like a night of partying and still lose weight. I lost 1.6 pounds in the first week, in fact. Even with the debauchery! Had I towed the line, not drank or ate too much, I probably would have lost 4 pounds, but I'm okay with that. I still lost because I was smart and healthy all week, knowing that I had this weekend of fun planned. After all, it's about the journey and doing this for the long haul, not trying something crazy and losing a ton of weight in a short time that I would just gain back after returning to normal eating again. Weight Watchers allows you to live your life, you just have to plan for extras like parties, dinners out and special occasions. Case in point for me this week. I'm right back on track and plan to stay on it. Until my friend's wedding of course!

One last thought for the day...it's about little victories that have big payoffs. I knocked 30 seconds off my 400 meter swim time last week. Now, don't get me wrong, I am not competing in the triathlon for time at all; I truly just want to finish but it was a good way to push myself to try and beat my last timed swim. And I did! 30 seconds may not seem like a lot, but it was a little victory for me that gave me a ton of motivation to keep training. It kicked my ass, but my ass needs kicking, so that's a good thing. Did you know you can sweat while swimming, by the way? It's such a strange feeling. The triathlon is 5 (gulp) weeks away. It's time to crack down and get some brick training in (see last blog for definition of brick training, it doesn't have anything to do with actual bricks, although that might be effective, too). That's my goal for this week. I'll let you know how it goes.

Rain, Rain, Go Away

I hope everyone had a Happy Easter, Passover, Equinox, etc. I celebrated Easter with family and some dear friends at my house. We had lovely (not very healthy) food and it was a great day. I started the day sitting on the deck with my husband and a cup of coffee on our new deck furniture (that I've been dreaming about owning since he built our deck three summers ago), watching cardinals and chick-a-dees flit around my bird feeders and listening church bells ringing in Easter morning. It was quite glorious and the closest I've felt to God in a while. I think people use the word "blessed" gratuitously, but at the moment, I was truly blessed. I wasn't thinking about losing weight, or that I'm not training enough for the Triathlon, or stressing about work or even obsessing over setting the perfect table for Easter (although my table was beautiful, if I do say so myself). I was at peace and truly in the moment. Blessed, indeed.

My workout scheduled suffered last week mostly from laziness but also getting the house ready to host Easter. I did have a great swim last week, though. I did my first timed 400 meter swim, which is the distance of the triathlon swim, in 15 minutes and 45 seconds! I don't know how that compares to anyone or anything but I don't really care. In that moment, I felt like Michael Phelps and literally heard crowds cheering in my head. It was one of those great days to be at the pool too because I went in the middle of day and it was virtually empty except for a couple of senior citizens doing water aerobics. I love senior citizens, by the way. They are in my lineup of favorite types of people, just under 6 month old babies (who are always giggly and sweet). Senior citizens have been around long enough to not really give a shit about most things and are nice, non-judgmental people. Most of them, at least. But everything has outliers, right?

The triathlon is about a month and a half away and I'm starting to get nervous. The weather has been awful around here, mostly cold and rainy with a few bursts of nice weather that don't last very long. Because of that, I haven't been on my bike once, which is starting to make me really twitchy. I know the bike is my strongest leg and I know that I can do the distance, but I really want to bike the race route and then do what they call "bricks" which is training two of the legs of the race in the same day. So I want to bike, then run to work on my leg stamina and I haven't had a chance to do so because of the weather. Hey, didn't I say in my last blog that I don't complain about stuff like the weather? Well, I am now. I'm so sick of this crappy weather! There, got it off my chest. So, I'll keep swimming and jogging (indoors and out) until I can get my behind on the bike.

I've also decided to re-join Weight Watchers. It really is a great plan that works for me and if I'm not staying on top of what I eat and am accountable to someone other than myself, I'm in trouble. So I start back to meetings on Monday. I go to an excellent meeting in downtown Chicago just down the street from my office. It's not only convenient and has a great leader, but the building and room it is in had a spectacular view of Grant Park and Lake Michigan. Win-win-win. I'll let you know how it goes. Until then, stay dry!

Control this!

I'm laughing looking back at last week's blog and a funny comment from my friend Karen. She said it read like a diet confessional and she's so right. I've been watching too much reality TV! I'm happy to report that I ate well all week, exercised four days and feel great. Although I did splurge on a decadent dinner on Friday and didn't get my swim in, overall I am happy with how I handled my week food-wise and training-wise. Also, I broke in my new running shoes which feel like they were hand-crafted by cherubs in heaven. The are actually New Balance 860's. I get fitted for running shoes at Dick Pond Athletics in St. Charles, IL. If you are contemplating buying running shoes, I highly recommend that you get professionally fitted for them. Fleet Feet is another great place to do this. I am a super frugal person who is smug about finding great deals and scrimping when needed. Good running shoes are not something to scrimp on. Spend the $100 bucks, it's totally worth it.

One of the reasons I didn't get my swimming in was that I had a big event over the weekend where my best friend/co-author and I did a huge cooking demo and sold our cookbooks at a Diabetes Expo put on by the American Diabetes Association (the publisher of our two cookbooks) at Navy Pier in Chicago. That event required me to be on my feet a lot and haul heavy things. I'm not 25 anymore and it wore my sorry ass out. I joke that I used to be a work horse and now I'm a show pony...I was exhausted!

I don't want to use this blog as a forum to promote myself professionally, but my published cookbooks are an important part of my life and a huge part of the reason I want so desperately to get back to a healthy weight. You see, they are healthy cookbooks for people with diabetes (links to the books are here and here). They are also really for anyone who wants to eat healthy because I think the diabetic diet is the healthiest one out there. Now, imagine the irony of me up there lecturing and demoing about cooking healthy food. I acknowledge my weight struggles when I'm demoing so I don't come off as too much of a fraud but I do not believe in the "Do As I Say and Not As I Do" approach and it's hard. I do think people like someone they can relate to (and there is A LOT of me to relate to) but I'd love to be up there saying, "I cooked this healthy food and look where I am now!"

Again, it's that worrying about people judging me that messes with my "I Can Do This" attitude that I so desperately need to get through this struggle. We sold a lot of books and we had more than several people come up to me and tell me they love us and our books (and one extremely creepy guy who was hitting on me...I wanted to tell him that I prefer men with all of their teeth like my husband, but I politely disengaged myself from him instead). So the validation from the people using our books and loving our food from the demo helps and it means the world to me that people are positively affected by our books. The whole point of doing the books and demos is to help people and teach them that healthy food can taste great and is easy to prepare. So to hear that validated is the best feeling. Ever. And I really mean that because anyone who thinks we did it for the money is cracked. Unless you are famous, or JK Rowling, most authors cannot live, even poorly, on book royalties alone.

So, that was a really long way to get to the point of my blog today. It's about control and worrying. This is a problem I have also struggled with for a very long time and I am working on focusing on what I can control and forgetting about that which I can't. This is not a new idea, of course; ask anyone who has suffered from any addiction and is in recovery. I do pride myself on not being one of those people who gets upset over every little uncontrollable thing like the weather, late trains, idiots who talk loudly on their cell phone anywhere they shouldn't be, people who use rolling briefcases that really don't need to, tourists idly standing in the middle of the sidewalk during morning rush hour, etc. That sort of stuff usually rolls off me. I'm talking about when I need to be somewhere important, like the cooking demo this weekend, and forcing my co-author to leave 4 hours early because I've worked up every possible scenario in my head of what can go wrong, from car accidents (which I was in one on my way to prep for the demo, by the way. Everything is fine except the jackass who hit me tried to tell the cop it was my fault and I went batshit crazy), to traffic, to not being able to find parking, etc. Now, to be successful, you need to plan well and double and triple check everything, but unless you're Nostradamus, you can't plan for everything, which I try to do. To the point where I wake up gasping for breath in the middle of night worrying that everything won't fit in the car! This is not healthy! And it's not mentally productive when working on a goal like a triathlon and weight loss. It's exhausting, actually. And worrying about what other people think. That's another one. I just need to get over it and realize that no one is watching me wheeze along the running path. And if they are, and they are judging me, it's probably because they are too scared to look in the mirror and judge themselves.

All easier said than done, but if I was perfect, I wouldn't need to write this blog and you wouldn't have something to waste 10 minutes on at work! So, this week, along with my goal of training five days and maintaining a healthy eating record, I am also going to work on not worrying so damn much and only controlling those things I can. You know, like my husband...ha ha, just kidding honey!

After all, that little fender bender I was in over the weekend could have been a heck of a lot worse, and I'm grateful that I have my crazy life to worry about, instead of being paralyzed from a car accident. It's all about perspective and while everything is relative, it's also good to be grateful and live like no one is watching you wheeze down the running path.

Food Glorious Food!

Hope everyone is having a great first couple of weeks of Spring. The weather is nuts (82 yesterday, 51 today, etc.) but I took advantage of the incredibly warm and wonderful days over the weekend. Well, sort of. It was a rough week, actually. I worked 6 days, all downtown Chicago (which is 40 miles from my house) and had a couple of late nights. Now, please refer to my last blog about excuses. Ha! That went right out the window this week. I had every excuse in the book and only worked out TWICE! Yes, twice. And neither workout was all that impressive. I also ate like the Titanic was going down and the only food aboard was nothing but junk food.

Being overbooked and not planning is an equation for disaster in my life, and what a disaster this week was. This blog is about full disclosure for me and I am embarrassed to admit this but I ate McDonald's three times, Dunkin Donuts twice, Epic Burger once, Jimmy Johns once and went out for sushi once. The rest of the food I ate was popcorn, cereal, cookies and cheese and crackers. No wonder I didn't have the energy to workout and felt like crap all week. All I ate was crap! Typically, I am a great meal planner for our household. I shop every week, prep food on the weekend, make sure everything is healthy and use as many whole foods as possible. Unfortunately, I have been on this downward spiral with meal planning and we have been eating convenience foods, fast food and just junk in general. Well, I'm happy to say that I got my kitchen back on track yesterday!

I cleaned out the fridge and pantry and got rid of anything that was not healthy. Luckily, I don't usually keep a bunch of junk in the house (I go through drive-thrus for that) but the cleaning process felt great for both my fridge and my state of mind. Clean fridge=clean mind. I had some bananas that were starting to brown so I cut them up into chunks, portioned them out and froze them for smoothies. You can also freeze whole bananas and use them for banana bread or a sub for oils in baking. They basically turn to liquid when they thaw so they are great for baking and you're not wasting any food.

Papaya - yum!

I shopped smartly, even going to two stores to get everything I needed at the best prices, and came home and prepped for the week. The prepping took less than an hour, which, in my mind, is an hour well spent. I bought a big, beautiful papaya and cut it up into chunks and froze it too (for smoothies). The papaya was $2.79 and I got two bags worth of frozen fruit out of it. A small-ish bag of frozen papaya from the grocery store is about $4.99 so I saved over two bucks. Saving money makes me very happy and smug. "You paid how much for what?" Frozen fruit is great to have on hand for making smoothies, or stirring into yogurt. If you've never had papaya before, this is what they look like and they taste sort of like a tropical cantaloupe with the texture of a mango. They are mild and delicious and make a great smoothies (see smoothie recipe). Peel it, scoop out the black seeds and cut into 2 inch chunks. That's it.

I also made a big batch of turkey taco meat. I add a few things to bulk it up (it's more filling and lasts longer). If you have meat eaters who refuse to eat ground turkey, make this recipe and don't tell them you switched the meat. Trust me, they'll never know! Here's the recipe:

Turkey Tacos

• Cooking spray plus 1 tsp olive oil
• 1 lb ground turkey (93% lean, sometimes written 93/7, the 100 percent lean stuff is too dry for me)
• 1 packet of your favorite taco seasoning mix
• 1 can petite diced tomatoes
• 1 can fat-free or vegetarian refried beans (the non-vegetarian ones are made with lard and really, no one needs to be eating lard)

Directions

Finished product. Delicious!

1. Saute the turkey in the olive oil and cooking spray until just cooked through. 
2. Add the taco seasoning packet and the canned tomatoes with the juice. The seasoning packet says to add water but I just use the juice from the tomatoes. 
3. Let that cook down for a couple of minutes then stir in the refried beans. It makes double the amount you would get with just the turkey and it adds 30 grams of fiber to the whole recipe. Fiber=filling (and tooty so don't eat this if you have a hot date later or have to sit somewhere quiet for a long period of time).

We also stocked up on salad stuff, I cooked off some chicken which I used to make a low fat curry apple chicken salad and to save for chopped salads later in the week. We have apples, clementines (cuties), low fat cheese sticks, low fat yogurt, roasted almonds and a pork tenderloin with roasted fennel that I'll make later in the week. I will prep it on one of the nights we are eating tacos since I won't have to cook that night and my dear husband will throw it in the oven for me the night we will eat it for dinner because he gets home earlier than I do. Planning and cooperation! Sounds like a Sesame Street episode.

I actually feel less stressed out this week because I know I have all of these meals planned and I don't have to worry about what I am bringing for lunch or cooking for dinner. Now I can focus on working out this week and breaking in my new running shoes. I am also testing different kinds of gels and chews that I will use for energy the day of the triathlon. I'll let you know how it goes.

Have a great week!

Excuses are like...

Pumpkin Plod - Highland, IN 2002 (the ole running days)

It's April Fool's Day. I hope no one plays any tricks on me! Oh wait, Mother Nature is - I am looking out my window and see rain and snow. Not sleet. Rain AND snow. Only in the frickin' Midwest, I tell ya. Thank God I ran last night when it was 50 degrees and don't have a "run day" today. Today is a swim day! I am on track to get all of my workouts in this week. I ran on Tuesday and Thursday this week and I will swim today and Saturday and run again on Sunday.

Speaking of running, I've been steadily improving each week as I get out there and "run." What I really do is jog very slowly but my short, stubby legs are going faster than walking so I count it as running! I used to be a Runner. Sort of a hard core one at that. Now, mind you, I've always been slow and I always will be. My fastest pace ever was an 11-minute mile and that was when I was in the best shape of my life. I logged that time at the Wacker Drive is Done 5K in Chicago after they revamped lower Wacker Drive in Chicago the first time in 2002 with my friend Kelly (who was and still is an uber-runner). I almost tossed my cookies at the end of the race but she so kindly reminded me that the Channel 7 TV cameras were there and I didn't want to be the person throwing up on the evening news. I still appreciate her for that! I was running 4-5 days a week, participated in Bulldog Bootcamp and eventually trained for a Half Marathon. That's the thing about the running world. It's hard to be happy "just" doing 5Ks. It's always about getting faster, going farther, and I got sucked up into the running world vortex. I eventually came shooting out the other end of that vortex and landed firmly on my couch with a bowl of ice cream and a TV remote!

The Half Marathon is actually what caused my running meltdown. That was one of the hardest things I've ever done and the training for it was a serious mental mind-Fword for me. I've never been a "good" runner. I don't particularly love running. I love how I feel after I run but I don't love (or really even like) the actual running part. It is the one thing exercise-wise, however, that really does it for me both in the weight-loss department and the sense of accomplishment department. So when I got sucked into the running vortex back in the day, I aimed to do a half-marathon. Never a full marathon, mind you. I'm not that big of a masochist (but I support all you marathon-nuts out there and applaud your insanity!). So when I signed up for training, it was with a group of runners who, unbeknown to me, were training for the Boston Marathon. THE. BOSTON. MARATHON. The one you have to be Kenyan or at least super-fast to qualify for. My best friend did the training with me too and she was much faster than I was but was also very sympathetic to feelings of inadequacy in this training group. Running is a serious mental sport as well as a physical one and if you are messed up in the head, it can seriously hamper your ability to run. So imagine me, even in pretty good shape but still running about a 12 minute mile heading out for training runs with these Boston Marathon Nuts (BMNs). There I was, plodding along and I wouldn't even be halfway out on the run and they'd be on their way back, clapping for me and cheering me on like their own personal chubby charity case. I know the BMNs were honestly cheering me on and thought it would help me but I felt like the slowest, biggest loser on the planet and it totally screwed with my head.

I did the Indianapolis Half Marathon in May of 2004 and then never ran again. Ever. Until recently when I started training for this triathlon. I attempted running again a couple of times before this, but all were epic fails and all were because I had a mental block against it. So you have to understand my complete and total glee right now that I am running again. Slowly of course. But I am back in the game. So much so that even though I didn't get home until almost 8 p.m. last night, and it was already dark, and I had about a million things to do, and ended up having to stay up way later than I normally do, I went out for a run. It used to be that if the moon wasn't in the right house, and the temperature wasn't just right, and the wind wasn't blowing a calm, cool breeze, and the Middle East wasn't at peace, I'd find an excuse not to run. Well, you know what they say about excuses...

Have a great week!

P.S. If you weren't able to comment before because you didn't have a Google account, I've changed it so anyone can comment. Again, please be kind! xoxo