Blog Avoidance

I have been really off the past week or so. No particular reason, just a general sense of “off-ness”… I think it’s the inevitable let down, or after effects of working really hard for a goal (my 2 year anniversary trip to San Jose), achieving said goal and then coming home and feeling a sense of fuck it. If I’m being perfectly honest I have not been a good girl since returning home. I have had a few really good days and my exercise has been really good, totally on point, but my eating is just blah. In fact, since returning home from San Jose, I have not journaled my food intake at all. Instead I’m relying on the old close enough formula and this can be very dangerous honestly.

Oh, nothing is crazy over the top and honestly taking a week or two “off” from journaling isn’t the end of the world but it does leave me in sort of an emotional tail spin I think. Perhaps that is honestly part of what is causing my general “funk”.  It’s the age old, which came first, the chicken or the egg. Am I “off” because I have not been paying that close attention to things, or am I not paying that close of attention to things because I am just “off”? 

Hence the not journaling all last week. I just didn’t feel it. Don’t get me wrong, nothing is wrong in my life. I feel like a spoiled brat sometimes because things are truly fine in my world and yet I have moments where I am not as happy as I should be, you know.  But of course, doesn’t matter your exact place in life you are entitled to your feelings and honestly a certain level of discord because honestly, life is just not perfect.  Things annoy the shit out of you. Situations come and frazzle you, and you have to fight and search for a balance.

Full disclaimer, like I said, I am fine and nothing is really that big of a deal at all, but I find myself lately a little annoyed with some people at the gym, a little annoyed with some members of my family and even probably at times a little annoyed with Chris. This is life. Perhaps I am pms’ing? No. It’s possible I guess.

I have brilliant moments of motivation and focus and then those moments where I just don’t give a fuck and instead of actually measuring any amounts of food my hand haphazardly dips into the entire bag of dried cranberries and bag of almonds.  Yeah, it’s a weird thing to be mad about eating. I totally get it. First world problems and all. Funny thing is I’m not actually all that mad about my eating, any of it. I still think I’m doing pretty okay. Just not journaling so I think the “fear” of eating worse than I should is probably more real than the reality that I have been. I am sure if I were actually journaling it I’d find I wasn’t too far off. But it’s like my crazy brain has a hard time with the lack of concrete evidence. Immediately jumping to the worst case scenario. Crazy fucked up is the story of my life after all.

I make it sound like things are way off or bad and they just aren’t. Mostly I’m fine. Mostly I’m happy and mostly I just have been busy and not feeling like posting that much. I think I perhaps was applying too much pressure to myself to once again see a certain number on the scale that as we all know is irrelevant. I have decided that I really don’t want to weigh myself; it causes all this crazy brain for me. I think what I am going to do is continue down my normal happy healthy path and then maybe just weigh myself before I go to Vegas and whatever I am, I am. Refocus energies back to being healthy and happy. Not that I ever try and lose sight of that, but every time I shift any amount of focus to a scale it gets ugly in my head.  Let the scale be the byproduct of the healthy lifestyle I love living, not the focus of the lifestyle.

I ran a half on Saturday. I was interested to see how I’d do considering the last half I ran was San Jose and let’s be honest there were so many good reasons why that one was destined to be a good race. I had so much extra motivation pushing me on. I’m not shocked that if I was ever going to PR it would be that race.  I was more concerned how I’d do on one where I had no reason or motivation to push myself. This weekend was a great test. There was zero incentive to run fast or hard. It was a “smaller” race so there wasn’t a ton of people on course, I ran by myself a lot of the time, and honestly there was nothing to special about it.  I had no misgivings that I was trying to run “fast.”  I have always said and will always maintain that my goal every time I go out and run is to simply do the best that I can every moment on that day. As long as I give it my all, I will be happy with the results no matter what they are. As long as I was giving my 100% effort than I’d be pleased.  You cannot always predict how you will feel or what issues may arise.

Saturday was a perfect example of that. I slept like awful shit the night before. Like 3 hours of sleep kind of shit. I wasn’t feeling all that hot, but I was going to run. I started out running okay. Nothing stellar, nothing awful, but consistent. A good pace for me. But suddenly at mile 5 I felt really sick. Like nacious I want to throw up kind of sick. And I wanted to quit. I seriously wanted to just walk. But I was like, that certainly won’t get you to the end any quicker, just keep going. So I ran on. I felt better but my pace slowed. It was fine. I was tired, (the 3 hours of sleep might have been a factor), but I just kept going.

Then right around mile 9 ½ it happened, that sick feeling returned. And I hate to say it but I felt my tummy turn and I thought I was burping, but it turns out I literally threw up in my mouth. I didn’t know it was going to be throw up and I was caught so off guard I just swallowed it back down. It was one of those weird moments where it just happened. So yes, clearly my stomach was off. I felt really sick. But I just kept running. I was almost done at this point. Miles 10-12 were HARD. Those were my push thru miles. We are so close now, just finish. Once I got to mile 12 the last mile is easier because you are now ticking down towards the end.

Despite the sick and exhaustion I actually crossed the finish line at 2 hours 12 minutes 45 seconds. This is my 3^rd fasted half marathon time ever.  (Out of the total 27 I have ran to date) San Jose was 2:09:40 I think, and then a year ago in February I ran one in 2:11:45. So honestly I was right on pace.  I was proud of that result given that I wasn’t really trying that hard. I was mostly relieved to see that my San Jose time wasn’t a rare fluke, that I can run a sub 2:15 half now.  Well, at least right now. I have no idea how realistic this pace will be once we get thru the winter and I am not running as much. Not so many half’s left now, as we approach the nasty running weather. I literally have 3 half’s left for the year now. I can’t believe it’s only 3!  One of them is this weekend, then Vegas in November and 1 in December.

Regardless, I actually liked the half this weekend and would definitely do that one again. The course was fine enough and the post-race stuff was good. Not a bad one at all. We did manage to avoid the rain, but I just don’t know about this weekend. The forecast is not looking as kind. As for the rest of the weekend, did much needed grocery shopping (Costco and the dreaded Wal-Mart shopping), we saw a movie, Gone Girl, and then we went out to eat at the Old Spaghetti Factory. Pretty rounded all around.

Also, I got this lovely new purse, and I do mean I am in love with it. Coach zebra. Yes, please. Tonight it’s back to the gym for me. And somehow I have 2 personal training sessions booked this week. One Tuesday night and one Wednesday night.  So we will see how that goes. It is yucky raining out now and honestly it just makes me feel miserable. I HATE the dreary rain. It is depressing. It’s completely un-motivating.  But I will push thru.