Happiness is an interesting thing. Why are humans so freaking complex? Sometimes I look at my adorable little dog and think that has got to be the life… and then I think of all of the things that are not in her control and think again. I mean, my dog has a great life for a dog. She is the spoiled pretty pretty princess in my world, but nonetheless, she is still a dog and therefore is not in control so I suppose that is not the ultimate life. I digress, as humans we require so much in our brains to constantly be and stay happy. It’s quite interesting. Less you think I’m going to say something different, I want to clear this up now, today I feel very happy and grateful and excited about life. I just find it interesting that a month ago, things were pretty much all the same in my life and I seemed to lack that happiness. I am beyond happy with things at this moment.
My happiness resides in my ability to constantly be looking forward to something, have something on the horizon. At this point I think my calendar is as full as it’s ever been and part of that gives me great happiness. I also woke up and realized that having these amazing shared experiences with Chris, someone who in his own right has found a love of running, is quite simply epic. It’s one thing to go to races and get happiness out of them, but it’s quite another to have someone to share it with. This is probably the story of anything in life. Life is better when you have someone to share it with. I suppose in terms of running having a girlfriend or anyone else really to share the experience with is equally as cool. At this point it’s cool that it is my husband because that makes the prospect of spending hundreds of dollars on travel to run possible. Cause he also sees the value in this. I guarantee as anyone would, if they did not “get it”, the constant spending of money on race fees and travel would seem ridiculous. I have become desensitized to the cost of races, they are what they are and I don’t really think about the reality that I spend $45 for a 5k on average and $85 on a half on average. What I get from it is far greater. These experiences are the magical moments I feel like I’ve been waiting a lifetime to have. This is me, 100% in my element and living my life. It gives me purpose in a way.
I keep thinking about at the end of the year, all of the amazing memories I am going to have and all the cool things I did. I mean, I don’t anticipate that every year will be filled with so many “runs” but right now I’m just going for it and I think its damned cool. I set my mind to something and I just do it. I think the whole point of life is to be happy, to love and share and help along the way if you can. My weight, my appearance means so little in comparison to living my life fully with happiness and passion. I am starting to accept myself just as I am because I am so happy. It’s been almost a year and a half since I weighed 220 pounds and I am so thankful that whatever inside of me finally changed enough this time to understand that its about more than a number.
Do you know how little I weigh myself? I love that. I love that my biggest gauge of my weight is truly my clothes, and how I look in the mirror. Everything fits, then who cares what the scale says. I think that is the way most athletes live their lives. Every now and then I catch a peek of myself in the mirror in an awkward position and see fat rolls and think maybe I should do something about that, try a little harder and then the thought goes away when I accept that I am happy and active and that is the best I could ever expect in life. No need to play psychological torturous games with myself to obtain some skewed image of perfection that I will quite frankly never be. This is the woman I am, and she is pretty okay. She may not be the fastest or the strongest but she’s an athlete and she has come so far and I accept and love her.
So with that said I don’t have too much else to say for the day, but at least I came and wrote something and that is always a good thing as it makes me grateful and reflect in a way that I don’t do anywhere else.
Tuesday, March 25, 2014
Monday, March 24, 2014
I am a runner
Ah yes, so we are so quickly back to Monday morning already. The weekends fly by infinitely faster than any day during the week. This is always the harsh reality. Guess it’s that old adage time flies when you are having fun. Frida night ended up being pretty good, I got my nails done which was really nice. It’s been far too long honestly. Then I stopped by the grocery store for some items and then just ended up watching some TV for a little bit. Good times.
Saturday morning I woke up and went to the gym despite it not entirely being something that I was completely feeling. But I went. I did an hour of turbo kick and then an hour of boot camp which was really just heavy strength training. I was tired by the time it was done and was ready to go home. I showered, and then spent the afternoon running around doing shopping errands with my husband. I was pretty exhausted by the end of the day. It was a good day overall. We had a nice spaghetti dinner to carbo load for yesterday morning.
Now onto the half marathon. There is something infinitely crazy about people who choose to wake up 2 hours earlier than normal on a Sunday morning to drive for an hour to pay a decent amount of money to run. Our alarm went off at 5:30 AM. This is probably not that early for most people but normally we don’t get until 7:30. We were up, getting dressed and freezing. Thankfully the race didn’t actually start until 9 AM, so I knew I had ample time to officially wake up. I was dressed, had eaten some oatmeal and stumbling into the car about 6:15 AM. We had an hour plus drive to get to the race.
The race was a point to point race. This means that we started at one location and ended at a different location 13.1 miles away. This is opposed to an out and back which is more common where the start and finish are the same location and you run out a path for half the distance and at some point either loop around or turn around and run back the other half distance finishing exactly where you started. The only logistical problem with a point to point race is that your vehicle can only either be at the start or the finish. Most races accommodate for this and shuttle you. In this instance we parked at the end location and awaited a school bus to take us to the starting point. I have not been on a school bus since high school. It was instantly a flood of memories and I felt like I was in a bizarre-o land because I racked my brain for comprehension of my last bus ride it occurred to me that it was traveling on weekends for high school speech tournaments. I was such a nerd. Obviously it was an academic endeavor because God knows I was not athletic growing up. But honestly I wouldn’t trade my amazing speech memories for anything. Good times.
My bizarre-o land comes from the fact that I was sandwiched on this bus full of very athletic adults who paid money on a Sunday to run. It is a humbling moment to realize that while you’ve never fully considered yourself a runner, at what point do you have to reassess that thinking? I mean, this was a smaller local race, in the end I believe about 330 runners total. And here I was, one of them, taking a bus ride on a cold morning to a starting point. Does this not really make me a runner? Can’t I really say, that no matter how fast I am running, I clearly must be a real official runner?
Nonetheless, there I was, freezing cold but the sun was peeking out like it was going to be making its appearance shortly, jumping up and down to stay warm, getting ready to run 13.1 miles. Some days I have to lie to myself when I am starting to run. I lie to myself in the sense that I don’t tell myself I am going to be running for 2 hours 15 minutes. I just tell myself I am going to go for a little run and try and enjoy the moments I am in. I lie to myself and just say that it doesn’t matter what happens out there, just get to the finish line. This is a lie because it does matter to me how I get to the finish line. I don’t feel good about myself or the run unless I give it my best effort. My best effort doesn’t require perfection but it does require that I give all that I have on that particular day.
There is something very interesting and mental about standing around and waiting for a race to begin, those 30 minute prior where you are inside your head, for me most of the time trying to convince myself that I really do want to do this, that any amount of tired I feel will wash away the moment I start running. That just showing up is my *win*.
Mostly yesterday I contemplated that the last half I ran was the disastrous Lincoln City Monsoon. Am going to call it a monsoon whether it officially was or not. Despite all of my best efforts to accept the horrible conditions of that race and feel proud that I just finished, which I am, truly, I cannot shake the feeling of fear I had going into yesterday because I was uncertain of my abilities. During Lincoln City I gave up. Yes, the conditions were awful, but I quit running and just walked, fast sure, but it was still a walk. That kind of stuff plays with your mind. This is part of the reason that both Chris and I thought it was a good idea to get another run in before San Francisco so clear our heads of that horrible half. I was having a yucky taste left in my mouth because of Lincoln City so I wanted to have a better, I can do it, feeling leading up to San Francisco. Of course, as I stood at the start line in anticipation of this race, horrible fear overcame me. What if I can’t? What if Lincoln City was the first step in the eventual decline of my abilities? What if all the lack of training is catching up with me? What if I am just getting worse at this? Yup, these are all very real fears that I have.
So this race I decided to wear gloves. I knew eventually I would have to take them off as the sun came out, but for the start my fingers were little ice cubes and I needed them. What I did not entirely anticipate was that when the starting gun went off and I began to run, the gloves made it impossible for me to start my run tracker app on my phone which started my music. What resulted was a horrific start to my race. I had to take the glove off and hold it in my hand which having to pull my phone out of its arm band to start it up and get it going. Then I dropped my glove. I stopped running to bend down and pick it up and could see the onslaught of runners coming for me. It was scary. I fumbled. I quickly shoved the phone back into my armband but then it was all jacked on my arm. I ran a little bit more, flustered. It took me about a mile and a half to calm down, and readjust all of my gear. My phone was finally in its place, I had to yank my pants up repeatedly to get them in the correct comfortable location and then I could finally calm down into my groove.
I am not a fast runner. I have said this on many occasions. Of the 300 plus runners who are clearly active runners who get up and run a random small half, I am definitely in the back 40 of them. That is okay. I am running for myself. Hell, I am running period and that is better than all the other people who didn’t even show up to run a race. Once I settled into my pace I felt good. I was not exerting myself, I was just running. I felt good. I felt like I was just going for a run.
I should mention that the first 2-4 miles of a half are my least favorite. Of any of them including the last 3.1. It’s because it takes me a while to get into my groove and to get over the initial I don’t want to run. Once I find my momentum and my body adjusts I can just run from there on out. It’s the first little bit that is always the challenge for me. It never fails, when I hit 3.1 miles, the first 5k, I always tell myself, great 5k down, 10 freaking miles to go. It is a particularly horrific milestone and one that I must document, as per ritual. The passing of the 3.1 mark. 10 miles to go. My favorite miles are always 4-9 or thereabouts, when I am in my groove and things feel good and I am just running for the enjoyment of running. This is the place where my mental head clearing takes place. Where I find my peace and rhythm. Where I can let go and just enjoy it for what it is. This was a nice course and particularly pretty running next to a river at points.
The race itself had decent support and despite the low number of participants, I was pretty much running with the same group of about 4-5 people most of the way, therefore I never felt “alone” on the road, which was nice. In Lincoln City and a few of the other races I did feel all alone which kind of sucks. I guess while I consider running a completely solo sport, I don’t want to be completely alone either. For me, I get a ton of motivation by seeing people on the sides of the roads. I just perform better when I think someone else is watching, even if they aren’t. This is probably why I like the Rock and Roll races. There is never a dull moment with them. I am certainly never alone in those either. I think the abundance of runners pretty much sees to that.
Once I hit mile 10, my second milestone kicks in. Now I ONLY have 3.1 miles to go. Now it’s just a little 5k left. Of course it’s a 5K after I’ve ran 10 miles and there’s pretty much nothing simple about that. To claim that running 13.1 is easy for anyone is a completely injustice. It is hard. It is exhausting. This is what I have concluded, running 13.1 miles does not physically hurt my body. It does not leave me huffing and puffing and out of breath, it does not wind me or cause me pain, but it does EXHAUST me. My energy level is depleted and I am tired. That is the end result. I just get exhausted. I am fine afterwards, but around mile 10 my brain wants to quit more than my body. I am tired and I just want to walk because my brain says it’s tired, my body honestly can still physically manage. It’s an interesting mix of mental and physical.
I have always professed that what I love about running and especially longer distances is that it more mental than anything else. It is convincing yourself to keep going when your brain is telling you to stop. It is a constant battle between the brain and the heart. I like the challenge and I like walking way victorious. The last 3.1 miles are hard. I think not as awful as the first 3.1, because you have such a far way to go at the beginning but the last 3.1 you know is the last and you are almost done. But at that point you are more exhausted so it’s more difficult. But once I hit the 10 mile mark, I know I am going to finish, and that the end is near. It’s all about pushing thru that last little bit.
This is the end result of this race. I ran every step. So Lincoln City, the previous run, was truly a situation of circumstance not an overall inability to run for that long. I ran every step. I did not run fast. There were hills. More hills than I had anticipated, but also a good challenge given San Francisco is coming up and that puppy is LOADED with hills. I did not have a great time for me, but it was not awful either. 2 hours 18 minutes or thereabouts. Not by best, not my worst. In line with what I can do. I will take it. What’s more important is that I ran every step and allowed myself to enjoy parts of the run. To just get lost in my mental haze of running.
This is what I know. I love running for what it gives me. Sure it is fabulous exercise but that is not why I run. I run because it provides a mental peace that I need in my life. It seems natural to me that since I have given up running daily as torture and instead partake in a rich and varied gym life, that my mind would seek out these organized runs to keep me running and keep that sense of happiness alive. I can experience true running happiness because I no longer use it as a torture mechanism for myself. It is all about a blissful happy experience. It is the thing that makes me feel the best about myself and the most accomplished.
I cannot express to you what happens in my mind the minute I see the finish line in sight. That moment when I run across the line and am presented with my medal. Pure joy. Pure pride. I did it. And that feeling never goes away. I don’t care how many I have run, that feeling is the same every time, because it is never easy and I earn every single one of them. I guess I am a runner, right? I guess I do deserve to be on that athletic bus.
At some point during the run I found myself smiling because I thought, wow, I am in a class of real sick puppies who pay money to run in the cold on an early Sunday morning. This is my idea of a good time. Holy shit, who does this crap? I do. I really seem to repeatedly do this crap.
And so begins what is going to be an epic, crazy summer of running. I have these races like every 2 weeks because that’s just the kind of girl I am. I am really feeling very happy and blessed right now. You can get all crazy and stressed about your weight, or how you look or what you eat etc, etc., but in the end, why the hell did you want to be healthy to begin with? Why did you want to lose weight or eat better? To live a more full and active life, right? Well guess what, I am doing that…. I am living my best life right now and that is exactly the reason that I ever wanted to lose weight. To have these amazing experiences. To feel content and complete. To grow and share and experience life. I am doing that. I am doing that in this imperfect body, with this extra skin and all, with fat still on my body, with less than perfect this and that. Who the hell cares…. I am imperfect and in living with the imperfections find beauty in what I am capable of.
Two weeks to San Francisco, where I will undoubtedly have an epic experience. I am VERY excited for that one. This is my life. And I am proving that there is always hope and the ability to readjust whatever course you are on. The smile on my face says it all. I am beyond proud of the life I am living. This is my peace and clarity. I am a runner. That is who I have always been.
Saturday morning I woke up and went to the gym despite it not entirely being something that I was completely feeling. But I went. I did an hour of turbo kick and then an hour of boot camp which was really just heavy strength training. I was tired by the time it was done and was ready to go home. I showered, and then spent the afternoon running around doing shopping errands with my husband. I was pretty exhausted by the end of the day. It was a good day overall. We had a nice spaghetti dinner to carbo load for yesterday morning.
Now onto the half marathon. There is something infinitely crazy about people who choose to wake up 2 hours earlier than normal on a Sunday morning to drive for an hour to pay a decent amount of money to run. Our alarm went off at 5:30 AM. This is probably not that early for most people but normally we don’t get until 7:30. We were up, getting dressed and freezing. Thankfully the race didn’t actually start until 9 AM, so I knew I had ample time to officially wake up. I was dressed, had eaten some oatmeal and stumbling into the car about 6:15 AM. We had an hour plus drive to get to the race.
The race was a point to point race. This means that we started at one location and ended at a different location 13.1 miles away. This is opposed to an out and back which is more common where the start and finish are the same location and you run out a path for half the distance and at some point either loop around or turn around and run back the other half distance finishing exactly where you started. The only logistical problem with a point to point race is that your vehicle can only either be at the start or the finish. Most races accommodate for this and shuttle you. In this instance we parked at the end location and awaited a school bus to take us to the starting point. I have not been on a school bus since high school. It was instantly a flood of memories and I felt like I was in a bizarre-o land because I racked my brain for comprehension of my last bus ride it occurred to me that it was traveling on weekends for high school speech tournaments. I was such a nerd. Obviously it was an academic endeavor because God knows I was not athletic growing up. But honestly I wouldn’t trade my amazing speech memories for anything. Good times.
My bizarre-o land comes from the fact that I was sandwiched on this bus full of very athletic adults who paid money on a Sunday to run. It is a humbling moment to realize that while you’ve never fully considered yourself a runner, at what point do you have to reassess that thinking? I mean, this was a smaller local race, in the end I believe about 330 runners total. And here I was, one of them, taking a bus ride on a cold morning to a starting point. Does this not really make me a runner? Can’t I really say, that no matter how fast I am running, I clearly must be a real official runner?
Nonetheless, there I was, freezing cold but the sun was peeking out like it was going to be making its appearance shortly, jumping up and down to stay warm, getting ready to run 13.1 miles. Some days I have to lie to myself when I am starting to run. I lie to myself in the sense that I don’t tell myself I am going to be running for 2 hours 15 minutes. I just tell myself I am going to go for a little run and try and enjoy the moments I am in. I lie to myself and just say that it doesn’t matter what happens out there, just get to the finish line. This is a lie because it does matter to me how I get to the finish line. I don’t feel good about myself or the run unless I give it my best effort. My best effort doesn’t require perfection but it does require that I give all that I have on that particular day.
There is something very interesting and mental about standing around and waiting for a race to begin, those 30 minute prior where you are inside your head, for me most of the time trying to convince myself that I really do want to do this, that any amount of tired I feel will wash away the moment I start running. That just showing up is my *win*.
Mostly yesterday I contemplated that the last half I ran was the disastrous Lincoln City Monsoon. Am going to call it a monsoon whether it officially was or not. Despite all of my best efforts to accept the horrible conditions of that race and feel proud that I just finished, which I am, truly, I cannot shake the feeling of fear I had going into yesterday because I was uncertain of my abilities. During Lincoln City I gave up. Yes, the conditions were awful, but I quit running and just walked, fast sure, but it was still a walk. That kind of stuff plays with your mind. This is part of the reason that both Chris and I thought it was a good idea to get another run in before San Francisco so clear our heads of that horrible half. I was having a yucky taste left in my mouth because of Lincoln City so I wanted to have a better, I can do it, feeling leading up to San Francisco. Of course, as I stood at the start line in anticipation of this race, horrible fear overcame me. What if I can’t? What if Lincoln City was the first step in the eventual decline of my abilities? What if all the lack of training is catching up with me? What if I am just getting worse at this? Yup, these are all very real fears that I have.
So this race I decided to wear gloves. I knew eventually I would have to take them off as the sun came out, but for the start my fingers were little ice cubes and I needed them. What I did not entirely anticipate was that when the starting gun went off and I began to run, the gloves made it impossible for me to start my run tracker app on my phone which started my music. What resulted was a horrific start to my race. I had to take the glove off and hold it in my hand which having to pull my phone out of its arm band to start it up and get it going. Then I dropped my glove. I stopped running to bend down and pick it up and could see the onslaught of runners coming for me. It was scary. I fumbled. I quickly shoved the phone back into my armband but then it was all jacked on my arm. I ran a little bit more, flustered. It took me about a mile and a half to calm down, and readjust all of my gear. My phone was finally in its place, I had to yank my pants up repeatedly to get them in the correct comfortable location and then I could finally calm down into my groove.
I am not a fast runner. I have said this on many occasions. Of the 300 plus runners who are clearly active runners who get up and run a random small half, I am definitely in the back 40 of them. That is okay. I am running for myself. Hell, I am running period and that is better than all the other people who didn’t even show up to run a race. Once I settled into my pace I felt good. I was not exerting myself, I was just running. I felt good. I felt like I was just going for a run.
I should mention that the first 2-4 miles of a half are my least favorite. Of any of them including the last 3.1. It’s because it takes me a while to get into my groove and to get over the initial I don’t want to run. Once I find my momentum and my body adjusts I can just run from there on out. It’s the first little bit that is always the challenge for me. It never fails, when I hit 3.1 miles, the first 5k, I always tell myself, great 5k down, 10 freaking miles to go. It is a particularly horrific milestone and one that I must document, as per ritual. The passing of the 3.1 mark. 10 miles to go. My favorite miles are always 4-9 or thereabouts, when I am in my groove and things feel good and I am just running for the enjoyment of running. This is the place where my mental head clearing takes place. Where I find my peace and rhythm. Where I can let go and just enjoy it for what it is. This was a nice course and particularly pretty running next to a river at points.
The race itself had decent support and despite the low number of participants, I was pretty much running with the same group of about 4-5 people most of the way, therefore I never felt “alone” on the road, which was nice. In Lincoln City and a few of the other races I did feel all alone which kind of sucks. I guess while I consider running a completely solo sport, I don’t want to be completely alone either. For me, I get a ton of motivation by seeing people on the sides of the roads. I just perform better when I think someone else is watching, even if they aren’t. This is probably why I like the Rock and Roll races. There is never a dull moment with them. I am certainly never alone in those either. I think the abundance of runners pretty much sees to that.
Once I hit mile 10, my second milestone kicks in. Now I ONLY have 3.1 miles to go. Now it’s just a little 5k left. Of course it’s a 5K after I’ve ran 10 miles and there’s pretty much nothing simple about that. To claim that running 13.1 is easy for anyone is a completely injustice. It is hard. It is exhausting. This is what I have concluded, running 13.1 miles does not physically hurt my body. It does not leave me huffing and puffing and out of breath, it does not wind me or cause me pain, but it does EXHAUST me. My energy level is depleted and I am tired. That is the end result. I just get exhausted. I am fine afterwards, but around mile 10 my brain wants to quit more than my body. I am tired and I just want to walk because my brain says it’s tired, my body honestly can still physically manage. It’s an interesting mix of mental and physical.
I have always professed that what I love about running and especially longer distances is that it more mental than anything else. It is convincing yourself to keep going when your brain is telling you to stop. It is a constant battle between the brain and the heart. I like the challenge and I like walking way victorious. The last 3.1 miles are hard. I think not as awful as the first 3.1, because you have such a far way to go at the beginning but the last 3.1 you know is the last and you are almost done. But at that point you are more exhausted so it’s more difficult. But once I hit the 10 mile mark, I know I am going to finish, and that the end is near. It’s all about pushing thru that last little bit.
This is the end result of this race. I ran every step. So Lincoln City, the previous run, was truly a situation of circumstance not an overall inability to run for that long. I ran every step. I did not run fast. There were hills. More hills than I had anticipated, but also a good challenge given San Francisco is coming up and that puppy is LOADED with hills. I did not have a great time for me, but it was not awful either. 2 hours 18 minutes or thereabouts. Not by best, not my worst. In line with what I can do. I will take it. What’s more important is that I ran every step and allowed myself to enjoy parts of the run. To just get lost in my mental haze of running.
This is what I know. I love running for what it gives me. Sure it is fabulous exercise but that is not why I run. I run because it provides a mental peace that I need in my life. It seems natural to me that since I have given up running daily as torture and instead partake in a rich and varied gym life, that my mind would seek out these organized runs to keep me running and keep that sense of happiness alive. I can experience true running happiness because I no longer use it as a torture mechanism for myself. It is all about a blissful happy experience. It is the thing that makes me feel the best about myself and the most accomplished.
I cannot express to you what happens in my mind the minute I see the finish line in sight. That moment when I run across the line and am presented with my medal. Pure joy. Pure pride. I did it. And that feeling never goes away. I don’t care how many I have run, that feeling is the same every time, because it is never easy and I earn every single one of them. I guess I am a runner, right? I guess I do deserve to be on that athletic bus.
At some point during the run I found myself smiling because I thought, wow, I am in a class of real sick puppies who pay money to run in the cold on an early Sunday morning. This is my idea of a good time. Holy shit, who does this crap? I do. I really seem to repeatedly do this crap.
And so begins what is going to be an epic, crazy summer of running. I have these races like every 2 weeks because that’s just the kind of girl I am. I am really feeling very happy and blessed right now. You can get all crazy and stressed about your weight, or how you look or what you eat etc, etc., but in the end, why the hell did you want to be healthy to begin with? Why did you want to lose weight or eat better? To live a more full and active life, right? Well guess what, I am doing that…. I am living my best life right now and that is exactly the reason that I ever wanted to lose weight. To have these amazing experiences. To feel content and complete. To grow and share and experience life. I am doing that. I am doing that in this imperfect body, with this extra skin and all, with fat still on my body, with less than perfect this and that. Who the hell cares…. I am imperfect and in living with the imperfections find beauty in what I am capable of.
Two weeks to San Francisco, where I will undoubtedly have an epic experience. I am VERY excited for that one. This is my life. And I am proving that there is always hope and the ability to readjust whatever course you are on. The smile on my face says it all. I am beyond proud of the life I am living. This is my peace and clarity. I am a runner. That is who I have always been.
Friday, March 21, 2014
Reset Button
I feel much better today than I did yesterday. I am sure it’s a combination of factors, but when I wrote my post yesterday it was immediately after my text messages with Amanda and I realize I was a little harsh. I was worked up and felt stressed and I do think talking it out or writing it out helped and then I remembered why I like to write on here to begin with. I completely think Amanda is honestly just trying to do better me and push me and be my friend. She is my friend first and foremost. I do think I need to have a chat with her about how much running means to me and the reality that no matter what I’m not giving it up. That I am willing to work with her but we have to include my crazy running schedule into the mix.
I think I left out a piece of the equation yesterday that I should clarify. There is a challenge at our gym starting April 1, that I am actually on the poster for. Here is the image of the poster.
You get a prize of $1,000 plus free training and membership, it’s an AWESOME prize honestly and in another world, a different time and place I’d love to win it. A year ago me I have no doubt would have won that bad boy. But hello, I am present no “before” picture. I am not saying I am the after, although the poster would indicate otherwise. But the thing is, while there is certainly always room for improvement, I definitely do not presently look like anybody’s before shot. I may not be perfect but I am definitely not out of shape. The point is Amanda wants me to win this contest. She real reason is because as my trainer, she would get $500 and bragging rights if one of her clients wins. So she is pushing hard because she wants to win but she does love me and wants me to succeed and I adore her for that. But It’s just not possible for me to win this challenge. I mean I am already on the poster as the before/after, is that even possible for me to compete?
I cannot think of anything I can do to my body in the next 90 days that would result in the biggest transformation. I think that is where my pressure was coming from yesterday. Amanda had mentioned it to me before but I kind of thought she was joking, apparently not. She honestly thinks I can win and while that is a lovely vote of confidence and belief she has in me, I just don’t see it. If I were to take a before picture today, I honestly don’t look like a before. It was just too much pressure at once and I kind of snapped. But I am better today; yes I need to talk to her. I have to do what’s best for me and having some idea that I am not working hard enough or making enough “gains” to win a stupid contest is not something I need to do to myself at this point.
Do you know what contest I have already won? Getting my freaking life back. I far too often forget that. I need to step back and really remember that this woman I am is amazing and strong and living her life and that is the most important contest of all to me. This girl is getting on airplanes and traveling to places to run half marathons. That is ridiculously cool and something that I always thought was meant for other people. I never in my wildest dreams, despite all my running, imagined that could or would ever be me. And suddenly, I woke up one day and it was me. That is what I am most proud of.
Speaking of that, San Francisco in a little more than 2 weeks. Wait, 2 weeks from tomorrow exactly I will be on a plane heading to the Bay. I have never been there and am pretty excited as always to explore a new location and run. Do you realize that the first time I get near the Golden Gate Bridge will be to run across it, like street closed, running down the road on the Golden Gate Bridge? Who the fuck does that? Oh wait, me! I am sure I will “see” the bridge before I run across it because it’s pretty obvious in the area, but the first time I get up close with it, won’t be driving across it, it will be running. That is amazing and most likely one of those ultimate ridiculously cool moments of my life. One of those experiences that money just can’t buy. Well, actually it can buy it, but you know what I mean. Money might have bought me the plane ticket, the entry fee into the race and thus the opportunity to do this but money can’t buy the desire, will or ability to run 13.1 miles. Money can’t buy the experience or the happiness I shall feel in my heart. Money can’t buy that moment when I look up and I am in the middle of the freaking golden gate bridge. That is earned. And earn it I shall with all the hills that I will have to run to complete this half marathon. It shall be intense but I’m guessing well worth all the effort.
Cause at the end of it all, I get this medal:
Yup, I am a medal whore. Love my bling. It’s really the symbol of the experience I just conquered. It’s the visual little clue of the epic journey I have been on for most all of my life. It is such a sense of pride and joy for me to look at those medals and remember the grit and determination it took me to earn each one of them. My visual reminder of my life altering transformation that has occurred inside my head. Not my body, it’s not about a physical transformation at all, it’s truly a mental one. It’s truly the transformation that occurred in myself, in my mind and about loving myself so much that I am going to give myself permission to not only live my life but believe I can do anything I want to do. And those little medals are the ultimate symbol that I am strong, capable and love myself.
Speaking of those little medals, today they revealed the San Diego Medal as well; this is the medal I am going to earn June 1 when I run in San Diego. Excited about his one too.
Each one of these is a trip, an experience to a new place I have not been. Excited to go to beautiful San Diego. And honestly it’s like 2 months away. That’s so cool too.
I am living the life I am supposed to be living, I am sure of that. I need to stop and count my blessings and feel happy and proud more often. It’s easy to get caught up in the day to day dribble and shit and this blog has always done a great job of allowing me the opportunity to reflect and be grateful for my blessings. That might have been missing the past 2 months. I need to write to realize that I have come a long way and its okay to have those bad moments but overall I am still ridiculously blessed. I have forgotten that and taken for granted those little moments.
Like last night, in class, before class started at the gym, some regulars, some people who are always in class were talking, I was not listening in on their conversation at all but then one of them was like, well in order to do that, you have to live at the gym right? And he looked at me and I was like, “What?” I truly was not listening to them. And he said, “she said (nodding her head in the direction of the woman he was a conversation with), that she just wants to look like you and have your muscles. And I told her that she has to live at the gym then.” I smiled and laughed and said, well, yeah, you have to work hard. I far too often taken for granted that no matter how complacent you may become there is always someone out there who wants what you have. I mean, I want what I don’t have all the time, so I understand the concept completely. But it’s still humbling and nice to think that anyone would ever look at me and think that I am the “goal”. I feel so far off from the “goal” so to speak. But alas, if I can inspire anyone that is all I’ve ever really wanted.
It’s easy to be hard on yourself and start to see flaws in your 150 pound body, but it’s nice to step back every now and then and be reminded that other people might not see you as a flawed 150 pound fatty but instead simply see you as a strong in shape woman. I think that in the end I am not a stick thin skinny Minnie but that for a lot of women I am realistic and that is what is inspiring. I am not a 110 pound 24 year old with a body that has never been damaged by life. I was born with womanly curves. I have struggled and my body is a result of that struggle. I have hips. I have shape. I have muscle too. I am 34 years old. I am more realistic or a better image of what some of these women could obtain as an end result of hard work. No matter what they do, a 40 something year old woman who is overweight is never going to look like that 110 pound 24 year old. I will never look like her, despite many years thinking I should. I am not perfect but I am the best case scenario for your everyday real woman and I guess I have to embrace that as my place in the gym. I am the symbol for all those people who this does not come naturally for, the ones who have to fight, claw, scratch and bust their asses for their health. Nothing was ever handed to me genetically and there are more women who that is the truth for than not. I will be their symbol if that is what they need and embrace it with a smile and an encouraging word. You will never find me being anything but nice and positive to everyone at the gym. I will be your biggest supporter and cheerleader if you let me.
I got a little side tracked the last two months or so without even realizing it but I’m starting to pull it back in and put the pieces of the puzzle back together again. I do think that is life. I am happy. I should say that. I am happy. It’s Friday and that is also good. The sun is shining, it is rest day, so no gym for me and instead after work I am getting my nails done and that is happiness too.
I am in a good place. I am running another 13.1 this Sunday morning. This is my pre San Francisco run. I honestly felt like I needed a good long run before we headed to tackle the hills and somehow that ended up being another official half. But if I’m going to do a long run it might as well be official after all. BTW, I checked the forecast and it’s supposed to be beautiful all weekend. Thank goodness. A nice run thru Eugene is in store me Sunday then. Good times. Have a fabulous weekend everyone.
I think I left out a piece of the equation yesterday that I should clarify. There is a challenge at our gym starting April 1, that I am actually on the poster for. Here is the image of the poster.
You get a prize of $1,000 plus free training and membership, it’s an AWESOME prize honestly and in another world, a different time and place I’d love to win it. A year ago me I have no doubt would have won that bad boy. But hello, I am present no “before” picture. I am not saying I am the after, although the poster would indicate otherwise. But the thing is, while there is certainly always room for improvement, I definitely do not presently look like anybody’s before shot. I may not be perfect but I am definitely not out of shape. The point is Amanda wants me to win this contest. She real reason is because as my trainer, she would get $500 and bragging rights if one of her clients wins. So she is pushing hard because she wants to win but she does love me and wants me to succeed and I adore her for that. But It’s just not possible for me to win this challenge. I mean I am already on the poster as the before/after, is that even possible for me to compete?
I cannot think of anything I can do to my body in the next 90 days that would result in the biggest transformation. I think that is where my pressure was coming from yesterday. Amanda had mentioned it to me before but I kind of thought she was joking, apparently not. She honestly thinks I can win and while that is a lovely vote of confidence and belief she has in me, I just don’t see it. If I were to take a before picture today, I honestly don’t look like a before. It was just too much pressure at once and I kind of snapped. But I am better today; yes I need to talk to her. I have to do what’s best for me and having some idea that I am not working hard enough or making enough “gains” to win a stupid contest is not something I need to do to myself at this point.
Do you know what contest I have already won? Getting my freaking life back. I far too often forget that. I need to step back and really remember that this woman I am is amazing and strong and living her life and that is the most important contest of all to me. This girl is getting on airplanes and traveling to places to run half marathons. That is ridiculously cool and something that I always thought was meant for other people. I never in my wildest dreams, despite all my running, imagined that could or would ever be me. And suddenly, I woke up one day and it was me. That is what I am most proud of.
Speaking of that, San Francisco in a little more than 2 weeks. Wait, 2 weeks from tomorrow exactly I will be on a plane heading to the Bay. I have never been there and am pretty excited as always to explore a new location and run. Do you realize that the first time I get near the Golden Gate Bridge will be to run across it, like street closed, running down the road on the Golden Gate Bridge? Who the fuck does that? Oh wait, me! I am sure I will “see” the bridge before I run across it because it’s pretty obvious in the area, but the first time I get up close with it, won’t be driving across it, it will be running. That is amazing and most likely one of those ultimate ridiculously cool moments of my life. One of those experiences that money just can’t buy. Well, actually it can buy it, but you know what I mean. Money might have bought me the plane ticket, the entry fee into the race and thus the opportunity to do this but money can’t buy the desire, will or ability to run 13.1 miles. Money can’t buy the experience or the happiness I shall feel in my heart. Money can’t buy that moment when I look up and I am in the middle of the freaking golden gate bridge. That is earned. And earn it I shall with all the hills that I will have to run to complete this half marathon. It shall be intense but I’m guessing well worth all the effort.
Cause at the end of it all, I get this medal:
Yup, I am a medal whore. Love my bling. It’s really the symbol of the experience I just conquered. It’s the visual little clue of the epic journey I have been on for most all of my life. It is such a sense of pride and joy for me to look at those medals and remember the grit and determination it took me to earn each one of them. My visual reminder of my life altering transformation that has occurred inside my head. Not my body, it’s not about a physical transformation at all, it’s truly a mental one. It’s truly the transformation that occurred in myself, in my mind and about loving myself so much that I am going to give myself permission to not only live my life but believe I can do anything I want to do. And those little medals are the ultimate symbol that I am strong, capable and love myself.
Speaking of those little medals, today they revealed the San Diego Medal as well; this is the medal I am going to earn June 1 when I run in San Diego. Excited about his one too.
Each one of these is a trip, an experience to a new place I have not been. Excited to go to beautiful San Diego. And honestly it’s like 2 months away. That’s so cool too.
I am living the life I am supposed to be living, I am sure of that. I need to stop and count my blessings and feel happy and proud more often. It’s easy to get caught up in the day to day dribble and shit and this blog has always done a great job of allowing me the opportunity to reflect and be grateful for my blessings. That might have been missing the past 2 months. I need to write to realize that I have come a long way and its okay to have those bad moments but overall I am still ridiculously blessed. I have forgotten that and taken for granted those little moments.
Like last night, in class, before class started at the gym, some regulars, some people who are always in class were talking, I was not listening in on their conversation at all but then one of them was like, well in order to do that, you have to live at the gym right? And he looked at me and I was like, “What?” I truly was not listening to them. And he said, “she said (nodding her head in the direction of the woman he was a conversation with), that she just wants to look like you and have your muscles. And I told her that she has to live at the gym then.” I smiled and laughed and said, well, yeah, you have to work hard. I far too often taken for granted that no matter how complacent you may become there is always someone out there who wants what you have. I mean, I want what I don’t have all the time, so I understand the concept completely. But it’s still humbling and nice to think that anyone would ever look at me and think that I am the “goal”. I feel so far off from the “goal” so to speak. But alas, if I can inspire anyone that is all I’ve ever really wanted.
It’s easy to be hard on yourself and start to see flaws in your 150 pound body, but it’s nice to step back every now and then and be reminded that other people might not see you as a flawed 150 pound fatty but instead simply see you as a strong in shape woman. I think that in the end I am not a stick thin skinny Minnie but that for a lot of women I am realistic and that is what is inspiring. I am not a 110 pound 24 year old with a body that has never been damaged by life. I was born with womanly curves. I have struggled and my body is a result of that struggle. I have hips. I have shape. I have muscle too. I am 34 years old. I am more realistic or a better image of what some of these women could obtain as an end result of hard work. No matter what they do, a 40 something year old woman who is overweight is never going to look like that 110 pound 24 year old. I will never look like her, despite many years thinking I should. I am not perfect but I am the best case scenario for your everyday real woman and I guess I have to embrace that as my place in the gym. I am the symbol for all those people who this does not come naturally for, the ones who have to fight, claw, scratch and bust their asses for their health. Nothing was ever handed to me genetically and there are more women who that is the truth for than not. I will be their symbol if that is what they need and embrace it with a smile and an encouraging word. You will never find me being anything but nice and positive to everyone at the gym. I will be your biggest supporter and cheerleader if you let me.
I got a little side tracked the last two months or so without even realizing it but I’m starting to pull it back in and put the pieces of the puzzle back together again. I do think that is life. I am happy. I should say that. I am happy. It’s Friday and that is also good. The sun is shining, it is rest day, so no gym for me and instead after work I am getting my nails done and that is happiness too.
I am in a good place. I am running another 13.1 this Sunday morning. This is my pre San Francisco run. I honestly felt like I needed a good long run before we headed to tackle the hills and somehow that ended up being another official half. But if I’m going to do a long run it might as well be official after all. BTW, I checked the forecast and it’s supposed to be beautiful all weekend. Thank goodness. A nice run thru Eugene is in store me Sunday then. Good times. Have a fabulous weekend everyone.
Thursday, March 20, 2014
Cardio bad
“Cause it’s your heart, it’s alive, it’s pumpin blood….”
Lyrics from the song, Pumpin blood by NONONO
And yes my long lost friends, this is my current obsession. One should realize I clearly must have an obsessive compulsive personality when I listen to a song on repeat for pretty much an entire day and I don’t get tired of it. That song is so ridiculously motivating. It makes me happy. It makes me want to celebrate all the good which I have to admit has been entirely hard to tap into lately.
I have to admit that I have been struggling the past two months. It was a slow silent descent into the world of eh. And suddenly I find myself lacking the same resolve I’ve had. But I suppose the big difference is that I have not quit doing what I do. I still am going to the gym day in and day out. I am still going thru all the proverbial motions which I guess is the important part. I can whole heartedly understand that you are not always going to feel amazing and great about every single thing. I sure do wish I had some of my bottled motivation from when I was on fire with it to break out for times like this.
I am struggling. There, I said it out loud. I honestly think it comes from a place of conflicted purposes or directions or goals. I have this gym world where everyone tells me strength, strength, strength. And then I have my head that tells me that at my core I am a runner. I love and appreciate strength and everything it does for me, but at the end of the day sometimes I just want to run. I want the freeing; mind blowing clarity that running gives me. What the hell is so wrong with being a runner? I feel too much pressure to try and coexist in these conflicting worlds. I guess that is what comes of being good friends with the trainer who constantly tells me cardio is bad, less cardio.
What results is a generally conflicted mindset that leaves me feeling, fuck it, let’s just eat. Yup, I said those words out loud. Thank God for continued workouts because they are the only thing keeping me in a relative normal weight range given my complete lack of concern for the foods I put in my mouth.
I have to accept some truths about myself; I am never going to be a stick thin skinny girl. I don’t believe that is ever what I wanted, I don’t. But it’s still hard to wrap my head around the idea that I am always going to be just a little bit thick. I have muscle which is cool, but it does seem to have settled my body at around 150 pounds. I am not exactly happy about this but also at the same time, I tend to not care. It’s hard to come to grips with the reality that apparently for the level of muscle I have and activity that I do, and therefore the hunger that it produces and the compensation with food, that I am just going to be 150 pounds. Is it really so bad to lift heavy as weights, eat what I want mostly and weigh 150 pounds? Not so much I guess. I have to believe that a lot of it is muscle. I am a logical girl and I realize that my 140 pound body that I always shoot for lacks this much muscle definition. These muscles are thick and dense; it’s just the way it is. I’m really not bitching, honestly. Just assessing the situation honestly.
Here is a direct text message conversation that occurred less than an hour ago with my friend, my trainer Amanda.
Amanda: I’m gonna make u a heavy lifting program
Me: If you make a heavy plan I will try and do it, I mean I probably should be lifting heavier than I do
Amanda: Yes, u gotta start lifting daily! Cut down the cardio too
Me: That’s funny… You don’t want to see my race calendar for the year, it’s crazy… Lots of running…. Oops… But I can still lift more for sure… and not run in between my weekend races
Amanda: Cut back tho on the cardio cuz you won’t build if you do to much… cardio bad!!
Honestly this just put a big knot in my stomach. I am a people pleaser and so I want to try and do what she asks but honestly, I love my races for so many reasons that I am thinking she just can’t understand. And yes, there are a lot of them from here on out, like every other weekend for months. I am certain she would not approve, but at some point isn’t this supposed to be about making me happy?
I have to stop and take a step back and realize that the thing that brings me the most peace and makes me the most happy is running a half marathon and crossing the finish line. It’s the shared experiences with my husband. It’s the excitement surrounding the events. It’s the mind checking out and just running. Literally outrunning my issues, my problems. I love strength training and lifting heavy. But NOTHING brings me the clarity that a good run does. It just won’t ever. So should I really have to explain that to anyone. It’s my freaking life….
I believe that 100% cardio would be bad, but that is NOT what I do. I freaking lift heavy all the time. Last night I did 50 pound bicep curls. That’s a freaking lot to bicep curl. 12 reps, 3 times. I bench press 135 pounds, deadlift 110 or so. I lift heavy. My muscles are evidence of that. It’s not like all I do anymore is run. In fact I find myself missing it far more than I should. Like this last Tuesday night, gasp, I did NOT go to the gym and found myself coming home and going for an hour run outside instead. It was gorgeous out and I was feeling some mental baggage and stress so I decided the best possible decision for me was to run. And It was wonderful and beautiful and amazing and it made me feel so much better. It cleared out the crap in my head. A beautiful outdoor run is about more than exercise. It’s about mental health as well. How can that be wrong?
I’m frustrated. I’m frustrated by my desire to people please and the reality that I have to defend my running far too often in a place of health and wellness where running should not be looked down on so much.
I am not lying when I say I have a race calendar for the year that is literally full of events. Somehow 2014 has morphed into the year of the run. Funny that I run less now than I ever have and somehow running also dominates my time too. I love the races. I love the events. I love traveling. San Francisco is in 3 weeks. I am beyond excited to have that amazing experience and I won’t apologize for wanting to have those magical moments.
I appreciate building muscle. I appreciate how toned and muscular I look. But I am never going to be a fitness model. I am never going to be uber tiny and tight. That was not the cards I was dealt. The years of yo-yo dieting will never tone up some of the loose skin and I am managing with that, I am learning to enjoy my life despite of it all. I am embracing the happiness of life, the way one should, and focusing less of the imperfections of myself.
In the end I don’t want to spend hours fine tuning little muscle groups and focusing on tiny imperfections of skin and muscle development. Fuck, I’d rather go out and run and cheer on other women who are brave and strong enough to have an awesome experience, despite whatever their perceived imperfections may be. That’s the thing about running, I see so many women out there who are amazing and have varying skills, weights, speeds, size, shape, goals. And they are all amazing and brilliant no matter what.
I guess I feel like I have dabbled the last 8 months in the world of extreme high stakes pressure of weight lifting and while I’m standing on the edge of going the route of the true gym rat something is holding me back and I guess I’m just trying to decide if that really is the ultimate end all for me. I am thinking it’s not. I am thinking that in the end, I am not ONLY a runner, or am I ONLY a body builder, or am I ONLY a gym rat or am I ONLY one thing. I am far too many things to give up any of it. Perhaps I will never be great at any one single thing as a result, but I can just be happy being able to do lots of activities that I love. I am almost 35 years old. I think its okay to accept my imperfections and be happy that this girl can do any of the things I am doing today. I don’t have to be perfect at any of it. I just have to love what I’m doing.
I also think in the end I might have missed this place a little more than I realized. I think I need to make more of a concentrated effort to write more again because it does help me mentally talk thru this shit that I’ve been struggling with. So more writing again.
I have to not be afraid to disappoint someone else if it is not in my best interests. I am terrified of telling Amanda that I can’t do something, but honestly I don’t see how I can give up my racing. I love it FAR too much. I’m not perfect by any means but it gives me a real sense of accomplishment and pride in myself. I want to be able to one day look back at 2014 as that one crazy year where I ran all those races. I think that is going to be bring me such an amazing feeling of satisfaction and pride, far greater than spending another hour in the gym lifting heavy shit will.
Although there is no part of me that is giving up the gym, I will never be able to go back to the life I previously knew of running day in and day out. I am freed of the mental torment and torture that I used to inflict upon myself. I am now able to appreciate and love running for the good things it gives me. I have the gym to thank for that honestly.
I’ve been struggling with some of these conflicting feelings and it’s got to be about time to get over it and accept what I am. Who I am. And allow myself to choose my own happiness first and foremost. Stress does no one any good. And believe me I have enough of that without having to introduce ridiculous unneeded stress into my life.
So there you go, I may just have to tell her that I love her and adore her and will do what I can, I will lift heavy and work hard, but I also have no intention of giving up my running because it means so much more to me than she can ever understand. I am a runner. I have always been a runner and I will always be a runner. Up and down my entire life with my weight but for a solid 10 years I always return to running. It is in my blood. I was meant to run and I certainly can’t give it up. End of story.
Besides I’ve already spent like a million dollars in race fees and travel for all the running so it’s not happening that I’m giving it up. It is simply going to have to work into the other plans. This is my choice. I just need to get my head into a better mental place. I honestly don’t think I run enough, I think my head misses the endorphins. I think I should probably run more, but I shouldn’t say that out loud should I?
Guess it’s a good thing that I am running another half on Sunday, but sshhh… I haven’t told Amanda that just yet. I refuse to believe running is BAD. I just refuse to believe it.
Lyrics from the song, Pumpin blood by NONONO
And yes my long lost friends, this is my current obsession. One should realize I clearly must have an obsessive compulsive personality when I listen to a song on repeat for pretty much an entire day and I don’t get tired of it. That song is so ridiculously motivating. It makes me happy. It makes me want to celebrate all the good which I have to admit has been entirely hard to tap into lately.
I have to admit that I have been struggling the past two months. It was a slow silent descent into the world of eh. And suddenly I find myself lacking the same resolve I’ve had. But I suppose the big difference is that I have not quit doing what I do. I still am going to the gym day in and day out. I am still going thru all the proverbial motions which I guess is the important part. I can whole heartedly understand that you are not always going to feel amazing and great about every single thing. I sure do wish I had some of my bottled motivation from when I was on fire with it to break out for times like this.
I am struggling. There, I said it out loud. I honestly think it comes from a place of conflicted purposes or directions or goals. I have this gym world where everyone tells me strength, strength, strength. And then I have my head that tells me that at my core I am a runner. I love and appreciate strength and everything it does for me, but at the end of the day sometimes I just want to run. I want the freeing; mind blowing clarity that running gives me. What the hell is so wrong with being a runner? I feel too much pressure to try and coexist in these conflicting worlds. I guess that is what comes of being good friends with the trainer who constantly tells me cardio is bad, less cardio.
What results is a generally conflicted mindset that leaves me feeling, fuck it, let’s just eat. Yup, I said those words out loud. Thank God for continued workouts because they are the only thing keeping me in a relative normal weight range given my complete lack of concern for the foods I put in my mouth.
I have to accept some truths about myself; I am never going to be a stick thin skinny girl. I don’t believe that is ever what I wanted, I don’t. But it’s still hard to wrap my head around the idea that I am always going to be just a little bit thick. I have muscle which is cool, but it does seem to have settled my body at around 150 pounds. I am not exactly happy about this but also at the same time, I tend to not care. It’s hard to come to grips with the reality that apparently for the level of muscle I have and activity that I do, and therefore the hunger that it produces and the compensation with food, that I am just going to be 150 pounds. Is it really so bad to lift heavy as weights, eat what I want mostly and weigh 150 pounds? Not so much I guess. I have to believe that a lot of it is muscle. I am a logical girl and I realize that my 140 pound body that I always shoot for lacks this much muscle definition. These muscles are thick and dense; it’s just the way it is. I’m really not bitching, honestly. Just assessing the situation honestly.
Here is a direct text message conversation that occurred less than an hour ago with my friend, my trainer Amanda.
Amanda: I’m gonna make u a heavy lifting program
Me: If you make a heavy plan I will try and do it, I mean I probably should be lifting heavier than I do
Amanda: Yes, u gotta start lifting daily! Cut down the cardio too
Me: That’s funny… You don’t want to see my race calendar for the year, it’s crazy… Lots of running…. Oops… But I can still lift more for sure… and not run in between my weekend races
Amanda: Cut back tho on the cardio cuz you won’t build if you do to much… cardio bad!!
Honestly this just put a big knot in my stomach. I am a people pleaser and so I want to try and do what she asks but honestly, I love my races for so many reasons that I am thinking she just can’t understand. And yes, there are a lot of them from here on out, like every other weekend for months. I am certain she would not approve, but at some point isn’t this supposed to be about making me happy?
I have to stop and take a step back and realize that the thing that brings me the most peace and makes me the most happy is running a half marathon and crossing the finish line. It’s the shared experiences with my husband. It’s the excitement surrounding the events. It’s the mind checking out and just running. Literally outrunning my issues, my problems. I love strength training and lifting heavy. But NOTHING brings me the clarity that a good run does. It just won’t ever. So should I really have to explain that to anyone. It’s my freaking life….
I believe that 100% cardio would be bad, but that is NOT what I do. I freaking lift heavy all the time. Last night I did 50 pound bicep curls. That’s a freaking lot to bicep curl. 12 reps, 3 times. I bench press 135 pounds, deadlift 110 or so. I lift heavy. My muscles are evidence of that. It’s not like all I do anymore is run. In fact I find myself missing it far more than I should. Like this last Tuesday night, gasp, I did NOT go to the gym and found myself coming home and going for an hour run outside instead. It was gorgeous out and I was feeling some mental baggage and stress so I decided the best possible decision for me was to run. And It was wonderful and beautiful and amazing and it made me feel so much better. It cleared out the crap in my head. A beautiful outdoor run is about more than exercise. It’s about mental health as well. How can that be wrong?
I’m frustrated. I’m frustrated by my desire to people please and the reality that I have to defend my running far too often in a place of health and wellness where running should not be looked down on so much.
I am not lying when I say I have a race calendar for the year that is literally full of events. Somehow 2014 has morphed into the year of the run. Funny that I run less now than I ever have and somehow running also dominates my time too. I love the races. I love the events. I love traveling. San Francisco is in 3 weeks. I am beyond excited to have that amazing experience and I won’t apologize for wanting to have those magical moments.
I appreciate building muscle. I appreciate how toned and muscular I look. But I am never going to be a fitness model. I am never going to be uber tiny and tight. That was not the cards I was dealt. The years of yo-yo dieting will never tone up some of the loose skin and I am managing with that, I am learning to enjoy my life despite of it all. I am embracing the happiness of life, the way one should, and focusing less of the imperfections of myself.
In the end I don’t want to spend hours fine tuning little muscle groups and focusing on tiny imperfections of skin and muscle development. Fuck, I’d rather go out and run and cheer on other women who are brave and strong enough to have an awesome experience, despite whatever their perceived imperfections may be. That’s the thing about running, I see so many women out there who are amazing and have varying skills, weights, speeds, size, shape, goals. And they are all amazing and brilliant no matter what.
I guess I feel like I have dabbled the last 8 months in the world of extreme high stakes pressure of weight lifting and while I’m standing on the edge of going the route of the true gym rat something is holding me back and I guess I’m just trying to decide if that really is the ultimate end all for me. I am thinking it’s not. I am thinking that in the end, I am not ONLY a runner, or am I ONLY a body builder, or am I ONLY a gym rat or am I ONLY one thing. I am far too many things to give up any of it. Perhaps I will never be great at any one single thing as a result, but I can just be happy being able to do lots of activities that I love. I am almost 35 years old. I think its okay to accept my imperfections and be happy that this girl can do any of the things I am doing today. I don’t have to be perfect at any of it. I just have to love what I’m doing.
I also think in the end I might have missed this place a little more than I realized. I think I need to make more of a concentrated effort to write more again because it does help me mentally talk thru this shit that I’ve been struggling with. So more writing again.
I have to not be afraid to disappoint someone else if it is not in my best interests. I am terrified of telling Amanda that I can’t do something, but honestly I don’t see how I can give up my racing. I love it FAR too much. I’m not perfect by any means but it gives me a real sense of accomplishment and pride in myself. I want to be able to one day look back at 2014 as that one crazy year where I ran all those races. I think that is going to be bring me such an amazing feeling of satisfaction and pride, far greater than spending another hour in the gym lifting heavy shit will.
Although there is no part of me that is giving up the gym, I will never be able to go back to the life I previously knew of running day in and day out. I am freed of the mental torment and torture that I used to inflict upon myself. I am now able to appreciate and love running for the good things it gives me. I have the gym to thank for that honestly.
I’ve been struggling with some of these conflicting feelings and it’s got to be about time to get over it and accept what I am. Who I am. And allow myself to choose my own happiness first and foremost. Stress does no one any good. And believe me I have enough of that without having to introduce ridiculous unneeded stress into my life.
So there you go, I may just have to tell her that I love her and adore her and will do what I can, I will lift heavy and work hard, but I also have no intention of giving up my running because it means so much more to me than she can ever understand. I am a runner. I have always been a runner and I will always be a runner. Up and down my entire life with my weight but for a solid 10 years I always return to running. It is in my blood. I was meant to run and I certainly can’t give it up. End of story.
Besides I’ve already spent like a million dollars in race fees and travel for all the running so it’s not happening that I’m giving it up. It is simply going to have to work into the other plans. This is my choice. I just need to get my head into a better mental place. I honestly don’t think I run enough, I think my head misses the endorphins. I think I should probably run more, but I shouldn’t say that out loud should I?
Guess it’s a good thing that I am running another half on Sunday, but sshhh… I haven’t told Amanda that just yet. I refuse to believe running is BAD. I just refuse to believe it.
Friday, March 7, 2014
Sore as Hell
Sore as fuck. This is simply the best way to describe what I am experiencing right now this moment. Wednesday night in personal training we did back which ultimately led to a ridiculous amount of heavy lat pull downs. And then rows with 25 pound weights. The lat pull downs are literally pulling 100 pounds of weight down repeatedly. Ultimately when your back muscles fail you your arm muscles start to take over. Both my triceps and biceps are stinging every bit as much as my back is right now. In all fairness it’s not directly my back as much as my sides and what is often classified as the “wings” of my back. They are all sore to the touch. And yet, in a weird irony of life I keep wanting to touch them because they are in screaming pain and I think they want to me massaged ever so gently, expect all this does is produce pain and a little cry escapes my mouth that says “ouch”… and I repeat the vicious cycle over and over again.
This is the agonizing ecstasy that is heavy weight training. Pure hell and pure pleasure all wrapped up into one. Yes, in a nutshell, sore as fuck. I believe I asked for this and sort of live off the high that this shit produces. Ultimately it means that I am resting today, as Friday has always been my rest day. I do think that I need it. I am kind of counting down the hours until the end of the workday. About 3 and a half to go and that is happiness for me. Tonight is also Friday night date night with my husband and we are going to Olive Garden. This is also why at points I feel like I am spinning out of control and then at points I could care less. I bust ass most of the time in the gym I guess so that I can go out to dinner and eat breadsticks when I want. It’s a fair trade off at this point in my life for me.
I am not one of those over the top crazy girls (well yes I am most of the time), but one of those who won’t eat a single bad thing. I’ve just never been that girl. I can force myself to lose weight but that ultimately is not a single bit realistic, so I eat. I am learning to be okay with the body that it produces for me as a result. I am an exercise junkie and a food junkie and they seem to balance each other out. Said the girl who is so ridiculously sore that she keeps saying ouch, ouch repeatedly…. When I just move.
Also said the girl who has an entire calendar dedicated to upcoming half marathons. I can honestly say I have never been a girl who has a year in advance calendar with anything on it. In 34 years of life I have never planned my life this far ahead. I have a complete 2014 calendar marked up with races that most of which are paid for and planned. I have to attest to the fact that I love that I so confidently can purchase race entry fees for events in September/October/November and whole heartedly believe that I will be in running shape at this time. I don’t even worry about that. This is quite progress for me. Also, I realized the other day that October 5 of this year will be my 2 year anniversary this time around. As I have never had a 2 year weight loss anniversary that is kind of exciting, but as I was looking at my race calendar I realized that on October 5, 2014 I will be running a half marathon in San Jose. What a cool ass way to celebrate 2 years of this change. Awesome!!!
I am that living proof that anything is possible, no matter how many times you have failed and succeeded and failed at this, at anything really. Never give up because any single time, any single moment can be different.
Did I mention that I have literally blown past my 14 races in 2014 as I had predicted, I kind of go full force all the time. As of this minute I am literally signed up for 18 half marathons, paid for and all. I mean 4 of those are already completed and in the books so that means another 14 to run. Cause that’s just what I do. I have this goal in my mind, this end game that I see and I decide I will achieve it. Right now it’s that mental image of me with all those medals around my neck, culminating a yearlong addiction/obsession/commitment to running. Guess I’m making up for the 10 years prior where I dabbled with running but never actually ran organized events. In true Emily gusto we go for the gold medal full force. All or nothing. The complete story of my life.
Anyhow, I am glad it’s Friday. I am glad its rest day. I am glad I get to go out to dinner to the Olive Garden tonight. I am glad I have a weekend and I don’t even have any real plans. I am glad for a lot of things today. Definitely feeling better than yesterday which was better than Monday or Tuesday. And as far as that goes, I will take it.
This is the agonizing ecstasy that is heavy weight training. Pure hell and pure pleasure all wrapped up into one. Yes, in a nutshell, sore as fuck. I believe I asked for this and sort of live off the high that this shit produces. Ultimately it means that I am resting today, as Friday has always been my rest day. I do think that I need it. I am kind of counting down the hours until the end of the workday. About 3 and a half to go and that is happiness for me. Tonight is also Friday night date night with my husband and we are going to Olive Garden. This is also why at points I feel like I am spinning out of control and then at points I could care less. I bust ass most of the time in the gym I guess so that I can go out to dinner and eat breadsticks when I want. It’s a fair trade off at this point in my life for me.
I am not one of those over the top crazy girls (well yes I am most of the time), but one of those who won’t eat a single bad thing. I’ve just never been that girl. I can force myself to lose weight but that ultimately is not a single bit realistic, so I eat. I am learning to be okay with the body that it produces for me as a result. I am an exercise junkie and a food junkie and they seem to balance each other out. Said the girl who is so ridiculously sore that she keeps saying ouch, ouch repeatedly…. When I just move.
Also said the girl who has an entire calendar dedicated to upcoming half marathons. I can honestly say I have never been a girl who has a year in advance calendar with anything on it. In 34 years of life I have never planned my life this far ahead. I have a complete 2014 calendar marked up with races that most of which are paid for and planned. I have to attest to the fact that I love that I so confidently can purchase race entry fees for events in September/October/November and whole heartedly believe that I will be in running shape at this time. I don’t even worry about that. This is quite progress for me. Also, I realized the other day that October 5 of this year will be my 2 year anniversary this time around. As I have never had a 2 year weight loss anniversary that is kind of exciting, but as I was looking at my race calendar I realized that on October 5, 2014 I will be running a half marathon in San Jose. What a cool ass way to celebrate 2 years of this change. Awesome!!!
I am that living proof that anything is possible, no matter how many times you have failed and succeeded and failed at this, at anything really. Never give up because any single time, any single moment can be different.
Did I mention that I have literally blown past my 14 races in 2014 as I had predicted, I kind of go full force all the time. As of this minute I am literally signed up for 18 half marathons, paid for and all. I mean 4 of those are already completed and in the books so that means another 14 to run. Cause that’s just what I do. I have this goal in my mind, this end game that I see and I decide I will achieve it. Right now it’s that mental image of me with all those medals around my neck, culminating a yearlong addiction/obsession/commitment to running. Guess I’m making up for the 10 years prior where I dabbled with running but never actually ran organized events. In true Emily gusto we go for the gold medal full force. All or nothing. The complete story of my life.
Anyhow, I am glad it’s Friday. I am glad its rest day. I am glad I get to go out to dinner to the Olive Garden tonight. I am glad I have a weekend and I don’t even have any real plans. I am glad for a lot of things today. Definitely feeling better than yesterday which was better than Monday or Tuesday. And as far as that goes, I will take it.
Thursday, March 6, 2014
Rain and Shit Storm
I shall not lie; the last couple weeks have been rough on me. I think I started out okay but somewhere along the line my attitude just started sucking and the avoidance of things starting kicking in. I am sure it’s not nearly as horrible as I played it out to be in my mind but this last Monday and Tuesday were terrible rough for me and I almost had a mini mental breakdown. I hate those. It is all stupid and completely my doing. It is a case of applying too much pressure to myself and having far too many things on my metaphorical plate. In a nutshell, reached my breaking point and wanted to shut down.
What I hate about this scenario is it’s entirely my own doing. There is nothing really going on causing this stress. Nothing major or in particular happened. It’s just a lot of little things that ultimately led to a giant, I am fucking tired and I mentally am checking out. Did I also mention that the rain is nonstop and horrendous and it’s driving me batty and depressing the fuck out of me. I completely understand that a vast part of our nation is still covered by snow which really blows and therefore I should not complain about the rain but it’s just crazy depressing.
Sunday I ran another half marathon that was the most ridiculous unbearable run of my entire life. It was not just raining, it was a freaking monsoon. It was rain like I haven’t seen in a while mixed with winds that were intense and crazy and of course blowing the rain directly onto my face and body pelting me with what I am pretty certain was hail at some points. It was heavy. This particular race was at the Oregon Coast and I am pretty sure that cold and rain and wind is more intense at the ocean. Whatever. It didn’t start out that horrific or else I might have honestly bagged the whole thing. When we started running it was only raining and I could deal with that. I ran solidly for 6-7 miles as the weather worsened. Then, the dark skies and nasty weather took its toll on me and I had to stop at a rest stop for a drink of water. And as if the earth parted and the skies decided it was now time to torture those people on that lonely highway, it started monsooning. I tried to run. I would run a stretch and then walk. I was freezing. Like a freezing you would not believe, my fingers were literally numb they were so cold. Not to mention that I was getting soaked thru and thru.
As I passed the mile 9 mark I wanted to cry, I still had 4 miles left of this torture and even running that was a minimum of 40 more minutes and I was not solidly running at that point. It literally took every ounce of mental strength I have ever had in my entire life to keep moving forward. Minute after minute ticked by and I was a drowned cold mess. At some point I realized that when I tried to run my feet hurt. Like I knew my sock was rubbing hardcore against my soaked shoe. Excellent times. I kept going. I kept telling myself that I have to finish and the more energy I can expend to get to the finish line is one less second I have to spend outside in this horror. Of course, that did not come easy by any means.
I pushed on. I hit Mile 11 and was like okay, 2 more miles. I always drop that last tenth of a mile when I am computing distance because once you reach mile 13, that last tenth is like nothing. So 2 more miles. And I tried to run and it was at this moment with 1000 percent wet water logged socks and shoes, as if I had just dipped them in a swimming pool for an hour, I realized that running was going to be near impossible as there was now pain. The pain in terms of blisters cascading across the bottoms of my feet. Sure enough, post-race, I was greeted to blisters unlike any I had ever seen, giant quarter sized ones that were painful to the touch. But I did run. I made myself run a stretch, and then I’d walk.
I pushed thru. Even though I swear I was moving at a snail’s pace because I was numb as fuck. When I got to close to Mile 13 the relief I felt was only overshadowed by the horror of what I had just done. Surely, I am so close now. The problem is, somewhere around mile 12.5 and 13 the route distance was off. My Garmin had been dead on with their mileage count the entire race. I hit mile 13 and that familiar feeling of relief kicked in, cause now it’s only a tenth of a mile, I am practically done. The problem is, they freaking lied. My tenth of a mile came and went and I was not at the finish line. Then another tenth of a mile ticked by. Now I am pissed. I have never been so pissed off during a race. And then to make matters worse another tenth of a mile ticked by. When I finally saw the finish line my Garmin told me it was 13.35 miles. LIARS! Normally I would not sweat this stuff but on this particular horrific day that extra quarter mile was quite upsetting. But I crossed the line, full well knowing my worst half time was being recorded officially in the books.
I tried to grapple with some harsh realities. I always swore I knew that one day I would have a bad one. And yet, getting my brain to forgive myself for what I considered mentally giving up was tough. Funny how I consider it a failure or a mental quit because I could not force myself to run every step of it. The fact that I had to walk parts of it just plain pissed me off. Somehow I felt like a failure. In the end my time was 2 hours 30 minutes and a few seconds. The weekend before I ran my half in 2 hours 11 minutes, but as a rule I tend to say that I run them around 2 hours 15 minutes and I am thrilled with that. So in reality I was only 15 minutes off of my normal pace despite some of the worst conditions I could ever imagine. So in hindsight, perhaps I didn’t do as horrifically awful as I thought I did. Yes, I walked far more than I have ever walked, but it couldn’t have been that awful as it only added an extra 15 minutes. I should be proud of just finishing which part of me is. Honestly, I wanted to quit. I was cold and wet and hurting but I finished.
In the end I did get a nice medal so I guess that is something. This one sucked. This one sucked all of my faith out of my desire to run half’s, but I’ve been grappling with the notion that I know in my heart I still love running these things and this one just happened to be a bad one. A particularly horrific run, but it does not define the entire experience for me. It was just a bad run. Not a bad sport, not a bad life you know.
This haze of mental funk continued thru the rest of the day Sunday and then carried into parts of Monday and Tuesday. I decided for the first time ever since joining the gym that I did not want to go and I bagged on going to the gym Monday night. That does NOT happen to me. Quite honestly it scared the shit out of me. I went Tuesday night but couldn’t muster up any desire at all and only managed about 20-30 minutes of lifting weights before I left. So ridiculously unlike me and it scared the crap out of me. I immediately went to my mom’s house where I vented for an hour about my lack of motivation. I tried to put things into perspective, which is always helpful. So what if I took off Monday and Tuesday from exercise. Really??? Why I am such a winey bitch? I mean, when I go back on the calendar for the past two weeks, from February 22 up to Tuesday, March 4… I exercised 8 out of the 11 days including 2 half marathons. So that means I took off a whole whopping 3 days, 2 of which happened to be Monday and Tuesday because apparently what I’m not realizing is that I am burning myself out. So cut myself some slack for not feeling it Monday and Tuesday. It’s not exactly like I’ve been a complete slacker. Geesh.
I did go last night and had a personal training session and then an hour of Iron Power class, all of which kicked my ass, made me lift hard and heavy and consequently left me feeling VERY amazing. Something that I was lacking lately and reminded me that I do love this shit. I sometimes need a good reminder of my love for this life. I got that last night so I have to forgive myself much more than I do.
Honestly taking off Monday and Tuesday were probably necessary as my body was clearly telling me to give myself a break. I feel better today, after going hard last night and feel a little more mentally on track.
With all that said, and the horrors of this last run, I am not letting any of it stop me from my goals and aspirations. I have also determined that I am completely in love with the large organized runs of the Rock and Roll marathon series. So much so that Chris and I have decided to go for the gusto and run some more of them. I have already signed up for San Diego in June. Yup, signed up for the race, purchased plane tickets and a hotel room and that is happening. We will also be doing San Jose in October, but clearly it’s too early at this point to really make definite travel arrangements, but that is going to happen. My next half is April 6 when I run across the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco. That shall be epic and I am certain return some of my missing love of not only the half marathon but of running in general.
Actually March 15 I am going to walk a 5k with my mom and sister. Sure, I could run a 5k, but that is not the point. The point is that my mom and sister are going to do it and I promised to stay by their side and help them along, so I shall be walking with them. That is much more meaningful to me anyway, than just running 3 miles. I think that will be a good time.
I’ve also been dealing with my older sister and her divorce stuff and it’s so sad and constantly changing and unknown and I think that mentally is taking a toll on me as well. I mean, it’s so sad and I need to be there for her as she has always been there for me and I wouldn’t want it any other way. Everything in life cycles. Up and down. I shall get thru all this, I guarantee it.
Photos from Sunday, sitting in the car before I became a drowned rat, and then the cool medal I got and the VERY bright shirt.... :)
What I hate about this scenario is it’s entirely my own doing. There is nothing really going on causing this stress. Nothing major or in particular happened. It’s just a lot of little things that ultimately led to a giant, I am fucking tired and I mentally am checking out. Did I also mention that the rain is nonstop and horrendous and it’s driving me batty and depressing the fuck out of me. I completely understand that a vast part of our nation is still covered by snow which really blows and therefore I should not complain about the rain but it’s just crazy depressing.
Sunday I ran another half marathon that was the most ridiculous unbearable run of my entire life. It was not just raining, it was a freaking monsoon. It was rain like I haven’t seen in a while mixed with winds that were intense and crazy and of course blowing the rain directly onto my face and body pelting me with what I am pretty certain was hail at some points. It was heavy. This particular race was at the Oregon Coast and I am pretty sure that cold and rain and wind is more intense at the ocean. Whatever. It didn’t start out that horrific or else I might have honestly bagged the whole thing. When we started running it was only raining and I could deal with that. I ran solidly for 6-7 miles as the weather worsened. Then, the dark skies and nasty weather took its toll on me and I had to stop at a rest stop for a drink of water. And as if the earth parted and the skies decided it was now time to torture those people on that lonely highway, it started monsooning. I tried to run. I would run a stretch and then walk. I was freezing. Like a freezing you would not believe, my fingers were literally numb they were so cold. Not to mention that I was getting soaked thru and thru.
As I passed the mile 9 mark I wanted to cry, I still had 4 miles left of this torture and even running that was a minimum of 40 more minutes and I was not solidly running at that point. It literally took every ounce of mental strength I have ever had in my entire life to keep moving forward. Minute after minute ticked by and I was a drowned cold mess. At some point I realized that when I tried to run my feet hurt. Like I knew my sock was rubbing hardcore against my soaked shoe. Excellent times. I kept going. I kept telling myself that I have to finish and the more energy I can expend to get to the finish line is one less second I have to spend outside in this horror. Of course, that did not come easy by any means.
I pushed on. I hit Mile 11 and was like okay, 2 more miles. I always drop that last tenth of a mile when I am computing distance because once you reach mile 13, that last tenth is like nothing. So 2 more miles. And I tried to run and it was at this moment with 1000 percent wet water logged socks and shoes, as if I had just dipped them in a swimming pool for an hour, I realized that running was going to be near impossible as there was now pain. The pain in terms of blisters cascading across the bottoms of my feet. Sure enough, post-race, I was greeted to blisters unlike any I had ever seen, giant quarter sized ones that were painful to the touch. But I did run. I made myself run a stretch, and then I’d walk.
I pushed thru. Even though I swear I was moving at a snail’s pace because I was numb as fuck. When I got to close to Mile 13 the relief I felt was only overshadowed by the horror of what I had just done. Surely, I am so close now. The problem is, somewhere around mile 12.5 and 13 the route distance was off. My Garmin had been dead on with their mileage count the entire race. I hit mile 13 and that familiar feeling of relief kicked in, cause now it’s only a tenth of a mile, I am practically done. The problem is, they freaking lied. My tenth of a mile came and went and I was not at the finish line. Then another tenth of a mile ticked by. Now I am pissed. I have never been so pissed off during a race. And then to make matters worse another tenth of a mile ticked by. When I finally saw the finish line my Garmin told me it was 13.35 miles. LIARS! Normally I would not sweat this stuff but on this particular horrific day that extra quarter mile was quite upsetting. But I crossed the line, full well knowing my worst half time was being recorded officially in the books.
I tried to grapple with some harsh realities. I always swore I knew that one day I would have a bad one. And yet, getting my brain to forgive myself for what I considered mentally giving up was tough. Funny how I consider it a failure or a mental quit because I could not force myself to run every step of it. The fact that I had to walk parts of it just plain pissed me off. Somehow I felt like a failure. In the end my time was 2 hours 30 minutes and a few seconds. The weekend before I ran my half in 2 hours 11 minutes, but as a rule I tend to say that I run them around 2 hours 15 minutes and I am thrilled with that. So in reality I was only 15 minutes off of my normal pace despite some of the worst conditions I could ever imagine. So in hindsight, perhaps I didn’t do as horrifically awful as I thought I did. Yes, I walked far more than I have ever walked, but it couldn’t have been that awful as it only added an extra 15 minutes. I should be proud of just finishing which part of me is. Honestly, I wanted to quit. I was cold and wet and hurting but I finished.
In the end I did get a nice medal so I guess that is something. This one sucked. This one sucked all of my faith out of my desire to run half’s, but I’ve been grappling with the notion that I know in my heart I still love running these things and this one just happened to be a bad one. A particularly horrific run, but it does not define the entire experience for me. It was just a bad run. Not a bad sport, not a bad life you know.
This haze of mental funk continued thru the rest of the day Sunday and then carried into parts of Monday and Tuesday. I decided for the first time ever since joining the gym that I did not want to go and I bagged on going to the gym Monday night. That does NOT happen to me. Quite honestly it scared the shit out of me. I went Tuesday night but couldn’t muster up any desire at all and only managed about 20-30 minutes of lifting weights before I left. So ridiculously unlike me and it scared the crap out of me. I immediately went to my mom’s house where I vented for an hour about my lack of motivation. I tried to put things into perspective, which is always helpful. So what if I took off Monday and Tuesday from exercise. Really??? Why I am such a winey bitch? I mean, when I go back on the calendar for the past two weeks, from February 22 up to Tuesday, March 4… I exercised 8 out of the 11 days including 2 half marathons. So that means I took off a whole whopping 3 days, 2 of which happened to be Monday and Tuesday because apparently what I’m not realizing is that I am burning myself out. So cut myself some slack for not feeling it Monday and Tuesday. It’s not exactly like I’ve been a complete slacker. Geesh.
I did go last night and had a personal training session and then an hour of Iron Power class, all of which kicked my ass, made me lift hard and heavy and consequently left me feeling VERY amazing. Something that I was lacking lately and reminded me that I do love this shit. I sometimes need a good reminder of my love for this life. I got that last night so I have to forgive myself much more than I do.
Honestly taking off Monday and Tuesday were probably necessary as my body was clearly telling me to give myself a break. I feel better today, after going hard last night and feel a little more mentally on track.
With all that said, and the horrors of this last run, I am not letting any of it stop me from my goals and aspirations. I have also determined that I am completely in love with the large organized runs of the Rock and Roll marathon series. So much so that Chris and I have decided to go for the gusto and run some more of them. I have already signed up for San Diego in June. Yup, signed up for the race, purchased plane tickets and a hotel room and that is happening. We will also be doing San Jose in October, but clearly it’s too early at this point to really make definite travel arrangements, but that is going to happen. My next half is April 6 when I run across the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco. That shall be epic and I am certain return some of my missing love of not only the half marathon but of running in general.
Actually March 15 I am going to walk a 5k with my mom and sister. Sure, I could run a 5k, but that is not the point. The point is that my mom and sister are going to do it and I promised to stay by their side and help them along, so I shall be walking with them. That is much more meaningful to me anyway, than just running 3 miles. I think that will be a good time.
I’ve also been dealing with my older sister and her divorce stuff and it’s so sad and constantly changing and unknown and I think that mentally is taking a toll on me as well. I mean, it’s so sad and I need to be there for her as she has always been there for me and I wouldn’t want it any other way. Everything in life cycles. Up and down. I shall get thru all this, I guarantee it.
Photos from Sunday, sitting in the car before I became a drowned rat, and then the cool medal I got and the VERY bright shirt.... :)
Thursday, February 27, 2014
Full Family Disfunction
I think I can officially talk about it now because my sister is starting to tell the world and honestly, this world has very little to do with her real world life so I’m guessing it would be fine now. My sister is getting a divorce. I know this is probably not that uncommon at all in this world. This is my oldest sister, the mother of my niece and nephew. It is because of my niece and nephew that this is so incredibly hard. This stuff does not happen to us, to our family. They have been together almost 20 years. Yup, 20 freaking years. Mind you, this is all his doing. Although honestly it should have been her doing. She has always deserved better in some respects. I probably am not at liberty to fully disclose all of the details are particulars because this is a public forum and I don’t want to complicate anything. Let’s just say that there was some incidents that occurred previously that would have for sure made me leave. It is my number 1 deal breaker in a relationship, the only thing that holds any weight for me in the leaving factor. My real deal breaker as it would be for most women and yet, she stayed. She stayed for the kids. And now he’s decided that he wants out. And while it is ridiculously painful and horrific it’s probably for the best in the end.
Of course this brings on a series of complications because she does not work. She is a full time stay at home mom while he is a fireman. She is entitled to half of everything but that is where it gets quite complicated with 401K plans and retirement and pensions and all that jazz. I don’t know, not easy or fun at all. But I totally understand. I will always understand that sometimes in the end this is the best and only option. My heart just hurts for my kids. It hurts for my sister who is in a lot of pain, but those kids are going to be torn apart when the learn. Saturday morning they are officially telling them as per a discussion and plan with a child psychologist that they met with to discuss it beforehand.
It’s been a very tense time around these parts for me for the past week plus. It’s been hard; I have gone thru a series of emotions. He is my brother in law that I have known forever. He has always been there, for good or bad. 19 years. Since I was like 14 or 15 he has been in my life. I was a sophomore in high school when Jen started dating him. SO long ago. It seems weird for suddenly him to not be there. To choose to walk away from all of us. I am dealing with this the best way I know how, which is to fully support my sister in any way I can. But boy it’s tough. Just another part of life I guess. And another reminder of how important family really is. Never take anything for granted I guess. You can wake up one day and suddenly the things you thought were constants are no longer guaranteed. It also goes to show you that you never really know what is going on underneath it all. You can’t judge a book only based on that cover you know. Facebook is the highlight reel of our lives and when you are given the rare opportunity to glimpse deeper under the veil you can see all sorts of uglies. Just heart breaking. We are such a close family that this kind of stuff affects us all on so many levels.
With all that said, my motivation and drive have been a little off the past two weeks. I am still going to the gym every night. I am still putting in my workouts. My food has been shit. But I’m still busting ass. Said the girl who had a personal training session last night and whose upper body is presently sore as can be. Oh yeah, I also ran another half marathon this last Sunday which was my fastest time to date. 2 hours 11 minutes 44 seconds. I have no illusions of getting faster every single time. One of these days I will stop getting faster because I don’t train to go faster. I don’t train at all. One of these days is going to be an epic fail I am sure. But whatever. I’m still loving every wonderful brutal horrific second of it.
I have really found my love of running again. It left me for a good 5-6 months while I fully emerged myself into gym world. But there is something so amazing and epic and freeing about doing a half marathon that I cannot even begin to describe. I am in complete love honestly. I love what it does for me. I think I am honestly only able to really enjoy running this much because I don’t do it that often. If I was constantly training it wouldn’t be that fun to me. But as it is, I get to show up to these runs, and remember exactly what it is that is so exhilarating about the mental torture.
I am running another half marathon this Sunday as well. And then the next one won’t be until San Francisco, April 6. I have a few more irons in the works right now in terms of running. I am pretty sure that running 14 is beyond happening this year and by that I mean, I am pretty sure that when the year is done I will have ran more than that. I love the experience so much. I also love the insane amount of bonding that is happening with my husband. I cannot think of a single activity in the almost 10 years we’ve been together that has bonded us more than the shared experience of running. It is so beyond cool. I guess that’s probably part of why I am so addicted to running, it feeds so many important parts of my life. It gives me a lot to look forward to. It’s pretty damned amazing really.
So, next month, in March my gym is starting some weight loss 30 day challenge. Obviously I am not really competing in it and have no intention of doing so but my old trainer informed me that my picture is going to be on the flyer and poster for the challenge. I am going to be hung up all over the gym on a poster advertising the challenge…. Should be interesting I guess. I gave them permission which is so odd to me that I am going to be on a poster. I haven’t seen it yet. I guess we will have to wait and see. Maybe I will take a picture of the poster when I see it in the flesh and let you all see it.
So yes, this Sunday will be half marathon number 4 for the year. Despite my stress over my family situation these past couple weeks and my subsequent lack of care for my food choices, I actually find myself in these profound moments of happiness over my life. I feel content and happy with my running and how things are going in my own personal life and then I feel guilty because my sister’s life is falling apart so badly. Geesh. I can’t win can I? I’m not sure I should feel guilty about being happy in my life. It’s not as if my life is all easy and peachy keen. I have moments of epic awful and I have to work hard sometimes to keep things happy. I work at this happiness thing and I earn this happiness thing by being consistent and doing the things that make me happy, even when sometimes I don’t feel like it. I have to fight for this happiness thing so I should not feel guilty about it. It is NOT handed to me at all. It is straight up earned.
So I’m sorry if I’ve been a little distracted as of late and not checking in the way I should be but life is getting in the way. If I know anything it’s that things cycle and soon enough I will be back at it. Just bear with me as life throws us for a curve ball.
Of course this brings on a series of complications because she does not work. She is a full time stay at home mom while he is a fireman. She is entitled to half of everything but that is where it gets quite complicated with 401K plans and retirement and pensions and all that jazz. I don’t know, not easy or fun at all. But I totally understand. I will always understand that sometimes in the end this is the best and only option. My heart just hurts for my kids. It hurts for my sister who is in a lot of pain, but those kids are going to be torn apart when the learn. Saturday morning they are officially telling them as per a discussion and plan with a child psychologist that they met with to discuss it beforehand.
It’s been a very tense time around these parts for me for the past week plus. It’s been hard; I have gone thru a series of emotions. He is my brother in law that I have known forever. He has always been there, for good or bad. 19 years. Since I was like 14 or 15 he has been in my life. I was a sophomore in high school when Jen started dating him. SO long ago. It seems weird for suddenly him to not be there. To choose to walk away from all of us. I am dealing with this the best way I know how, which is to fully support my sister in any way I can. But boy it’s tough. Just another part of life I guess. And another reminder of how important family really is. Never take anything for granted I guess. You can wake up one day and suddenly the things you thought were constants are no longer guaranteed. It also goes to show you that you never really know what is going on underneath it all. You can’t judge a book only based on that cover you know. Facebook is the highlight reel of our lives and when you are given the rare opportunity to glimpse deeper under the veil you can see all sorts of uglies. Just heart breaking. We are such a close family that this kind of stuff affects us all on so many levels.
With all that said, my motivation and drive have been a little off the past two weeks. I am still going to the gym every night. I am still putting in my workouts. My food has been shit. But I’m still busting ass. Said the girl who had a personal training session last night and whose upper body is presently sore as can be. Oh yeah, I also ran another half marathon this last Sunday which was my fastest time to date. 2 hours 11 minutes 44 seconds. I have no illusions of getting faster every single time. One of these days I will stop getting faster because I don’t train to go faster. I don’t train at all. One of these days is going to be an epic fail I am sure. But whatever. I’m still loving every wonderful brutal horrific second of it.
I have really found my love of running again. It left me for a good 5-6 months while I fully emerged myself into gym world. But there is something so amazing and epic and freeing about doing a half marathon that I cannot even begin to describe. I am in complete love honestly. I love what it does for me. I think I am honestly only able to really enjoy running this much because I don’t do it that often. If I was constantly training it wouldn’t be that fun to me. But as it is, I get to show up to these runs, and remember exactly what it is that is so exhilarating about the mental torture.
I am running another half marathon this Sunday as well. And then the next one won’t be until San Francisco, April 6. I have a few more irons in the works right now in terms of running. I am pretty sure that running 14 is beyond happening this year and by that I mean, I am pretty sure that when the year is done I will have ran more than that. I love the experience so much. I also love the insane amount of bonding that is happening with my husband. I cannot think of a single activity in the almost 10 years we’ve been together that has bonded us more than the shared experience of running. It is so beyond cool. I guess that’s probably part of why I am so addicted to running, it feeds so many important parts of my life. It gives me a lot to look forward to. It’s pretty damned amazing really.
So, next month, in March my gym is starting some weight loss 30 day challenge. Obviously I am not really competing in it and have no intention of doing so but my old trainer informed me that my picture is going to be on the flyer and poster for the challenge. I am going to be hung up all over the gym on a poster advertising the challenge…. Should be interesting I guess. I gave them permission which is so odd to me that I am going to be on a poster. I haven’t seen it yet. I guess we will have to wait and see. Maybe I will take a picture of the poster when I see it in the flesh and let you all see it.
So yes, this Sunday will be half marathon number 4 for the year. Despite my stress over my family situation these past couple weeks and my subsequent lack of care for my food choices, I actually find myself in these profound moments of happiness over my life. I feel content and happy with my running and how things are going in my own personal life and then I feel guilty because my sister’s life is falling apart so badly. Geesh. I can’t win can I? I’m not sure I should feel guilty about being happy in my life. It’s not as if my life is all easy and peachy keen. I have moments of epic awful and I have to work hard sometimes to keep things happy. I work at this happiness thing and I earn this happiness thing by being consistent and doing the things that make me happy, even when sometimes I don’t feel like it. I have to fight for this happiness thing so I should not feel guilty about it. It is NOT handed to me at all. It is straight up earned.
So I’m sorry if I’ve been a little distracted as of late and not checking in the way I should be but life is getting in the way. If I know anything it’s that things cycle and soon enough I will be back at it. Just bear with me as life throws us for a curve ball.
Tuesday, February 18, 2014
I'm not Dead
Well hello online world. It’s been a while hasn’t it. What can I say other than I needed a bit of a mental break. We all get like that from time to time. Nothing major, i.e., nothing too bad happening in my world, just got busy. Wait, just got hit with a snowstorm which left me a prisoner in my own home for 5 days. You’d think with all that time I’d have plenty of time to blog, but alas, being lazy is incredibly draining. I just ate like horrid crap and didn’t exercise. Of course that left me in a total mind fuck for a few days after and suddenly an entire week passed without me blogging.
But true to myself and my nature I went ahead and got back into the swing of things and back to the gym. I haven’t been bad. I keep plugging along on all of my endeavors in life so that is good. I ate like shit, I didn’t exercise, I moved on. This seems to be the repetitive cycle of my life but with exceptions. The exception being look who is fully back to the gym pushing forward as if this is truly my lifestyle now. Yup, that’s me. I truly think it helps that I have such a close personal relationship with my trainer; I couldn’t give up even if I wanted to. It would not be allowed and that is kind of comforting too. It’s nice having someone who obsessively has your back.
Regardless Saturday morning I got up and went to the gym and did 2 hours of awesome workout. Then later in the day me and my trainer went to a movie. Chick flick alert. We saw Endless Love. Total chick flick but the only thing that fit in with the timing etc. So yeah, we hung out. Then Sunday morning we got up and hit the gym once again for a ridiculously brutal chest workout. My entire upper body was fried out to the max. Did I mention after working my upper body to dead state we then did 20 minutes of battle ropes. Swinging those big ropes up and down is BRUTAL as well. I was exhausted. Like don’t want to move exhausted after the workout. Yesterday I was sore. Like my entire body, even lower body was feeling it. Last night I did 1.5 hours of classes that brutalized me yet again and today my entire body is in a slow ache. So there you have it. Still being tortured along as per normal. Nothing else that new to report.
Wait, that is not entirely true. Something not great at all has happened with one of my sisters and because it is not me that it is happening to I am not at all at liberty to discuss what is going on, but it’s sad and it makes me cry and I hate it. It has made me want to shut down, probably thus some of the social media isolation as of late. But at least it’s not me??? Is that even fair, it’s not fair because it’s my sister and it might as well be me. It makes me so sad. Thus is life I suppose. I will discuss it when I am at liberty to discuss it but until then I will do my best to hobble onward.
Sunday I will be running another half marathon. Yup, this weekend and then the following weekend are half marathons. Two in 2 weeks. Crazy girl, and then there won’t be another one until April 6 which is San Francisco. Boy time really goes by awfully quickly doesn’t it? Still loving my 14 in 14 challenge. Still excited. I am sure I will be more excited after this Sunday when I do another one and feel that high. Fortunately the weather forecast looks pretty decent for Sunday which makes me happy. Yeah to that!
Clearly I am not feeling my normal chatty self but at least I made it here to even attempt an update so that you all know I am not dead or at the very least fallen off the wagon, as I have not. I am sure one of these days my desire to ramble on excessively about stupid shit will come back.
In the meantime, aside from the yucky sadness for my sister, I am feeling pretty happy. I take happy any day of the week. Life is often messed up and just being happy is the real blessing. How easy we are to forget the good stuff we have and take for granted the days where nothing goes amiss. We are never kind enough or grateful enough for the love and family that we share. It’s so easy to get caught up in ourselves. I am far too guilty of this myself. The grass is definitely not greener on the other magical side. The grass is always as green as you make it no matter what the fuck side you are standing on. It’s just a side. So you sure better figure out how to make the grass green on the very side you are standing, right now. This is directly in relation to what is happening in my sister’s life. Poor thing. Ugh. Just Ugh.
Hug the ones you love and treasure the good because we are not promised a happy tomorrow, EVER.
But true to myself and my nature I went ahead and got back into the swing of things and back to the gym. I haven’t been bad. I keep plugging along on all of my endeavors in life so that is good. I ate like shit, I didn’t exercise, I moved on. This seems to be the repetitive cycle of my life but with exceptions. The exception being look who is fully back to the gym pushing forward as if this is truly my lifestyle now. Yup, that’s me. I truly think it helps that I have such a close personal relationship with my trainer; I couldn’t give up even if I wanted to. It would not be allowed and that is kind of comforting too. It’s nice having someone who obsessively has your back.
Regardless Saturday morning I got up and went to the gym and did 2 hours of awesome workout. Then later in the day me and my trainer went to a movie. Chick flick alert. We saw Endless Love. Total chick flick but the only thing that fit in with the timing etc. So yeah, we hung out. Then Sunday morning we got up and hit the gym once again for a ridiculously brutal chest workout. My entire upper body was fried out to the max. Did I mention after working my upper body to dead state we then did 20 minutes of battle ropes. Swinging those big ropes up and down is BRUTAL as well. I was exhausted. Like don’t want to move exhausted after the workout. Yesterday I was sore. Like my entire body, even lower body was feeling it. Last night I did 1.5 hours of classes that brutalized me yet again and today my entire body is in a slow ache. So there you have it. Still being tortured along as per normal. Nothing else that new to report.
Wait, that is not entirely true. Something not great at all has happened with one of my sisters and because it is not me that it is happening to I am not at all at liberty to discuss what is going on, but it’s sad and it makes me cry and I hate it. It has made me want to shut down, probably thus some of the social media isolation as of late. But at least it’s not me??? Is that even fair, it’s not fair because it’s my sister and it might as well be me. It makes me so sad. Thus is life I suppose. I will discuss it when I am at liberty to discuss it but until then I will do my best to hobble onward.
Sunday I will be running another half marathon. Yup, this weekend and then the following weekend are half marathons. Two in 2 weeks. Crazy girl, and then there won’t be another one until April 6 which is San Francisco. Boy time really goes by awfully quickly doesn’t it? Still loving my 14 in 14 challenge. Still excited. I am sure I will be more excited after this Sunday when I do another one and feel that high. Fortunately the weather forecast looks pretty decent for Sunday which makes me happy. Yeah to that!
Clearly I am not feeling my normal chatty self but at least I made it here to even attempt an update so that you all know I am not dead or at the very least fallen off the wagon, as I have not. I am sure one of these days my desire to ramble on excessively about stupid shit will come back.
In the meantime, aside from the yucky sadness for my sister, I am feeling pretty happy. I take happy any day of the week. Life is often messed up and just being happy is the real blessing. How easy we are to forget the good stuff we have and take for granted the days where nothing goes amiss. We are never kind enough or grateful enough for the love and family that we share. It’s so easy to get caught up in ourselves. I am far too guilty of this myself. The grass is definitely not greener on the other magical side. The grass is always as green as you make it no matter what the fuck side you are standing on. It’s just a side. So you sure better figure out how to make the grass green on the very side you are standing, right now. This is directly in relation to what is happening in my sister’s life. Poor thing. Ugh. Just Ugh.
Hug the ones you love and treasure the good because we are not promised a happy tomorrow, EVER.
Wednesday, February 5, 2014
Happy thoughts
Ah, morning… you are deceptive to me today. The sun is peaking out of a clear sky but the temperature is bone chillingly cold at like 20 something degrees. You’re stupid liar weather and today I am not your biggest fan in the least. For the record Paige, the next couple days in Oregon are supposed to be cold but unfortunately Saturday we are supposed to get snow. I think it’s supposed to go away quickly, but its stupid cold. It has been nice lately so this is rather disappointing all around. I know you are coming in this weekend which does not make the snow forecast on Saturday too appealing at all. Yuck.
So can I just pretend like I’m chatting at my friends Paige and Brianna here who left comments yesterday. Of course anyone can read this but I’m going to answer you nonetheless. Chris is definitely a “new” runner. He definitely trains for this stuff. He runs a couple times a week and he is sore the day of the day after running a half. He is working up his endurance for sure. He plans on doing the 14 in 14 challenge with me but we both are aware that his body might now allow it. At this point in time it is more physically taxing on his body, but I do think that is from being new to this whole thing. He is otherwise in very good health and shape so it could definitely be worse. He runs much more than I do at this point. But honestly I think he has too. I don’t think most people just show up on race day and run the whole thing without at least running beforehand. Sometimes my mental games play with me a little bit and I think I’m going to fail at this. Surely I must be crazy to think that I cannot run and then just show and up and continue to run and not hurt myself. But thus far it seems to work out okay for me. I don’t train in the typical fashion that people do for half’s. But as pointed out to me last night by Chris, it’s not like I don’t “train” to endure hardcore exercise. I train like 6 days a week for multiple hours, building muscles, pushing myself. I train my brain with mental endurance to push thru when I think I can’t go any more all the time. So I am not walking into half marathons after being sedentary eating crap on the couch and expecting to show up and perform. My body is a pretty conditioned thing at this point.
I honestly believe that health care professionals are against the abuse that excessive cardio does to your body. I completely understand and on some level agree with them. I think maybe they believe I am running in between to train for them and truthfully I might on occasion run a 5k just to keep the memory alive but other than that, I don’t run much at all during the week. Let’s see, I ran Arizona half on Jan 19, I ran once, 1 5k last week, and then I ran another half last Saturday. That was it. I have another half scheduled for Feb 23. If I am lucky I might run 1 or if I’m being crazy 2 5k’s on two different days before then, but most likely it will just be once. I think the fear is that people over train or do excessive amounts of cardio and I am a classic lazy runner who just wants to show up and run. I am just fortunate that my body is trained enough in all other aspects to allow it.
I honestly think that there is something very familiar about running in my bones. The movement is so second nature to me that my muscles just kind of blow it off. I think it’s the intense amount of running done in my lifetime. I promise you I suffer more abuse and get sorer from my gym workouts than a half has ever made me. Now a full marathon would be a different story I am 100% certain. But that is a beast to tackle down the line.
Yes Brianna you are right, it’s about my mental health and happiness. It’s fun for me. I guess if you don’t have that runner’s high or bug, then you will never understand that it’s simply something that I enjoy. It’s like going to the movies for someone else or reading a book. This is my entertainment. It might be slightly sick but it’s still my purest form of enjoyment. I am going to ignore the gym world and do what makes me happy because in my heart I don’t think I’m crossing any lines. 4.5 hours of running in a month is pretty acceptable to me. Even if I threw in 2 training half’s in the in-between which is highly questionable as well, we would be talking about 5.5 hours. Not exactly cardio overload here. I know what is right for me and my heart and my head and I’m going to go with that.
I’m not trying to sound like some super runner. I really am not. I run right around a 6 mile per hour pace and I don’t stray too much from that. I do get tired and exhausted and I do slow down at the end. There are tons of people who finish well in front of me. I am just comfortable with the effort I have to put out to get decent enough results for me. I can honestly say I wouldn’t want to do this if it required massive training on my part. I could not justify the cardio abuse on my body if I had to train over and over. But I think I’ve already put in the training hours in my lifetime and my body remembers it. I didn’t just wake up one day and run 13.1 miles without any issue. It is a long time coming and I think I’ve earned the right to just show up and run with everything else I’ve done previously to get to this point.
Enough about that. Let’s talk about something else. I am not sure I want to say too much about the Biggest Loser last night. I was excited to watch it as we all know that I love the show. I know that is completely unrealistic and not applicable to the real world in the least and yes can cause people to feel bad about themselves for not being able to make changes in their own lives. I get all that. But I think the good it produces outweighs the bad. I think generally speaking the concept of trying to happy and healthy is a good one. At least I think that is what the concept is. Less we forget it is actually a competition with a prize there will always be someone to remind us of the game aspect of it. That is sad. I think in the end she was trying to win a game at all costs. I have thought about it some and the truth is I am not sure I would do things any different. I am obsessive compulsive as clearly she is and she obviously wanted to win. I’d like to think I would have stopped at like 120 pounds or so when I no longer looked healthy and fit but it is a game. She knew she was up against bigger men who had more to lose than her so to counter balance she had to go extreme. With all that said I am horrified. 105 pounds is ridiculous for ANYONE. And she looked so beyond unhealthy it wasn’t even funny. She looked gross and it was sad. Not anything anyone should ever strive for.
I find myself wishing that she’d issue a statement of some sort that says yes, I wanted to win the game and I don’t intend to live my life like this. I personally hope immediately following that weigh in she ate some delicious healthy foods. Something to nourish her clearly malnourished frame. I wish she’d just come out and say, hey guys, hey world I know you are talking shit but even I can accept this isn’t healthy. I just wanted to win and I shall return to a liveable weight now.
Let’s face it, most of these contestants do put some weight back on pretty quickly while they try and find that balance in their lives. My only fear is that she has crossed some line into eating disorder land where she can’t see things clearly anymore. It was supposed to be about being healthy and fit and getting your life back. We will see won’t we? Given all the attention she’s getting I am certain we will see stories or photos down the line following her. I will say this though, Bob and Jillian’s expression was classic. Priceless. I love that even they were floored.
So tonight is my personal training and I have been promised biceps/triceps and abs. Oh boy :) It’s going to be interesting because it is ALWAYS interesting with that girl. I kind of love her to death but am terrified of her too. If it wasn’t for her I wouldn’t be where I am today and I also wouldn’t go probably half the time either. She keeps me honest and accountable. And of course today is Wednesday already so we are approaching the halfway mark thru the week. YEAH!!!! That is good for me. I want my weekend already.
I am one very happy girl today as well. I honestly can say with 100% certainty that running has been good for my soul and it has helped bond my husband and I in a unique way. It’s very cool to share this with him and I feel very happy that I get to.
So can I just pretend like I’m chatting at my friends Paige and Brianna here who left comments yesterday. Of course anyone can read this but I’m going to answer you nonetheless. Chris is definitely a “new” runner. He definitely trains for this stuff. He runs a couple times a week and he is sore the day of the day after running a half. He is working up his endurance for sure. He plans on doing the 14 in 14 challenge with me but we both are aware that his body might now allow it. At this point in time it is more physically taxing on his body, but I do think that is from being new to this whole thing. He is otherwise in very good health and shape so it could definitely be worse. He runs much more than I do at this point. But honestly I think he has too. I don’t think most people just show up on race day and run the whole thing without at least running beforehand. Sometimes my mental games play with me a little bit and I think I’m going to fail at this. Surely I must be crazy to think that I cannot run and then just show and up and continue to run and not hurt myself. But thus far it seems to work out okay for me. I don’t train in the typical fashion that people do for half’s. But as pointed out to me last night by Chris, it’s not like I don’t “train” to endure hardcore exercise. I train like 6 days a week for multiple hours, building muscles, pushing myself. I train my brain with mental endurance to push thru when I think I can’t go any more all the time. So I am not walking into half marathons after being sedentary eating crap on the couch and expecting to show up and perform. My body is a pretty conditioned thing at this point.
I honestly believe that health care professionals are against the abuse that excessive cardio does to your body. I completely understand and on some level agree with them. I think maybe they believe I am running in between to train for them and truthfully I might on occasion run a 5k just to keep the memory alive but other than that, I don’t run much at all during the week. Let’s see, I ran Arizona half on Jan 19, I ran once, 1 5k last week, and then I ran another half last Saturday. That was it. I have another half scheduled for Feb 23. If I am lucky I might run 1 or if I’m being crazy 2 5k’s on two different days before then, but most likely it will just be once. I think the fear is that people over train or do excessive amounts of cardio and I am a classic lazy runner who just wants to show up and run. I am just fortunate that my body is trained enough in all other aspects to allow it.
I honestly think that there is something very familiar about running in my bones. The movement is so second nature to me that my muscles just kind of blow it off. I think it’s the intense amount of running done in my lifetime. I promise you I suffer more abuse and get sorer from my gym workouts than a half has ever made me. Now a full marathon would be a different story I am 100% certain. But that is a beast to tackle down the line.
Yes Brianna you are right, it’s about my mental health and happiness. It’s fun for me. I guess if you don’t have that runner’s high or bug, then you will never understand that it’s simply something that I enjoy. It’s like going to the movies for someone else or reading a book. This is my entertainment. It might be slightly sick but it’s still my purest form of enjoyment. I am going to ignore the gym world and do what makes me happy because in my heart I don’t think I’m crossing any lines. 4.5 hours of running in a month is pretty acceptable to me. Even if I threw in 2 training half’s in the in-between which is highly questionable as well, we would be talking about 5.5 hours. Not exactly cardio overload here. I know what is right for me and my heart and my head and I’m going to go with that.
I’m not trying to sound like some super runner. I really am not. I run right around a 6 mile per hour pace and I don’t stray too much from that. I do get tired and exhausted and I do slow down at the end. There are tons of people who finish well in front of me. I am just comfortable with the effort I have to put out to get decent enough results for me. I can honestly say I wouldn’t want to do this if it required massive training on my part. I could not justify the cardio abuse on my body if I had to train over and over. But I think I’ve already put in the training hours in my lifetime and my body remembers it. I didn’t just wake up one day and run 13.1 miles without any issue. It is a long time coming and I think I’ve earned the right to just show up and run with everything else I’ve done previously to get to this point.
Enough about that. Let’s talk about something else. I am not sure I want to say too much about the Biggest Loser last night. I was excited to watch it as we all know that I love the show. I know that is completely unrealistic and not applicable to the real world in the least and yes can cause people to feel bad about themselves for not being able to make changes in their own lives. I get all that. But I think the good it produces outweighs the bad. I think generally speaking the concept of trying to happy and healthy is a good one. At least I think that is what the concept is. Less we forget it is actually a competition with a prize there will always be someone to remind us of the game aspect of it. That is sad. I think in the end she was trying to win a game at all costs. I have thought about it some and the truth is I am not sure I would do things any different. I am obsessive compulsive as clearly she is and she obviously wanted to win. I’d like to think I would have stopped at like 120 pounds or so when I no longer looked healthy and fit but it is a game. She knew she was up against bigger men who had more to lose than her so to counter balance she had to go extreme. With all that said I am horrified. 105 pounds is ridiculous for ANYONE. And she looked so beyond unhealthy it wasn’t even funny. She looked gross and it was sad. Not anything anyone should ever strive for.
I find myself wishing that she’d issue a statement of some sort that says yes, I wanted to win the game and I don’t intend to live my life like this. I personally hope immediately following that weigh in she ate some delicious healthy foods. Something to nourish her clearly malnourished frame. I wish she’d just come out and say, hey guys, hey world I know you are talking shit but even I can accept this isn’t healthy. I just wanted to win and I shall return to a liveable weight now.
Let’s face it, most of these contestants do put some weight back on pretty quickly while they try and find that balance in their lives. My only fear is that she has crossed some line into eating disorder land where she can’t see things clearly anymore. It was supposed to be about being healthy and fit and getting your life back. We will see won’t we? Given all the attention she’s getting I am certain we will see stories or photos down the line following her. I will say this though, Bob and Jillian’s expression was classic. Priceless. I love that even they were floored.
So tonight is my personal training and I have been promised biceps/triceps and abs. Oh boy :) It’s going to be interesting because it is ALWAYS interesting with that girl. I kind of love her to death but am terrified of her too. If it wasn’t for her I wouldn’t be where I am today and I also wouldn’t go probably half the time either. She keeps me honest and accountable. And of course today is Wednesday already so we are approaching the halfway mark thru the week. YEAH!!!! That is good for me. I want my weekend already.
I am one very happy girl today as well. I honestly can say with 100% certainty that running has been good for my soul and it has helped bond my husband and I in a unique way. It’s very cool to share this with him and I feel very happy that I get to.
Tuesday, February 4, 2014
a shameful act indeed
Today I feel very happy and blessed. I love it when I wake up feeling satisfied in my life. It’s crazy that there are days that feel like this and then there are days where I just wake up pissed off and grumpy. Life is interesting like that. I need to embrace these happy days, but I am certainly well aware that they are not all like this. Far from it honestly. But today I am just going to be happy.
I think my commitment to my goal of 14 in 14 is making me happy. I think setting an epic goal and going for it is really helping my mood. Funny. I guess I am a goal oriented make a list and cross it off kind of girl. I guess I also just like the feeling of success. And the surest way to be successful is to set obtainable goals. Here’s the funny thing though, running is like the black sheep of the fitness world at a gym. I pretty much discovered this the first day I ever walked into the gym. The sentiment is felt by pretty much all employees. It’s a bizarre concept to me. I have had it drilled into my head that for whatever reason running is the anthesis of health. I am still baffled by this concept. I “see” where they are coming from but I’ve never 100% subscribed to their crazy Kool-Aid.
As excited as I am about my goal it is like this shameful dirty little secret that I am not supposed to discuss in my gym life. It’s funny. Last night I told my previous trainer Julie about my goal, I’m going to run 14 in 2014 and she looked at me with big eyes and said, “be careful.” I was immediately taken aback. She said that I didn’t need to do so much cardio and I have an obsessive personality and blah blah blah. I was honestly surprised. We aren’t talking about running those 50 mile uber runs or anything; it’s literally a freaking ½ marathon. It’s not like I am even saying 14 full marathons. I don’t really understand. And a year is a very long time honestly. So let’s just break this down a little. For the sake of argument, let’s just say I got super into this, like crazy over the top Emily kind of crazy and blew past my 14 in a year plan. This could realistically happen honestly. But it wouldn’t be like more than 2 a month. I don’t have all the money and time in the world for this. So for the sake of argument I run 2 half marathons in a month. That is a total of 26.2 miles a month. Its equivalent to about 4 ½ hours of running in a month. I rarely run much in between them. I am too busy doing all the strength training they have taught me at the gym.
So 4.5 hours of running in an entire month. That is NOTHING! Let’s not forget that I have on many occasion over the past 10 years ran consistently a minimum of 5-8 hours a week, every single week at points. In all honesty those 4.5 hours wouldn’t even touch my weekly running quota. I don’t do that anymore. I am happier for it, honestly. I am happier now not running that much. I think it’s because I don’t run that much anymore that I am excited to run half marathons. I don’t think this is excessive or asking too much of my body. Well, no more than I already put my body thru on a regular basis with every other crazy thing I do.
It’s just I’ve been told time and time again that cardio, running in particular is the devil. I’m floored and surprised by this concept as a whole. I am thankful that I no longer run an hour plus every day. I see their logic in this very flawed thinking, but a few half marathons are not going to kill me. If I was in physical pain afterwards. If my body was hobbling along for days post run I could understand. The most I’ve felt is tired for the duration of the rest of the day after I run, but I’m ready to go the next day. I am not in physical pain; I do not injure any body part in the process. Honestly it’s just not that big of a deal to me.
Let me put it this way. On any given Saturday or Sunday I pretty much spend 2 hours in the gym working out. Granted, there are many breaks in there and variety of exercise. It is not a solid my heart rate is elevated can’t stop, 2 hours 15 minutes of workout. But it’s typically 2 hours nonetheless. So on a particular weekend I choose to run instead of spending my 2 hours in the gym. And I get a shiny medal at the end of it for my efforts. I don’t get medals after my gym workouts so sometimes this seems more fun. I guess I’m not doing the runs as a means of physical fitness. I am not doing them to lose weight or even to burn calories. I am running because it is fun to me. I am running to push the limits of my heart.
I am honestly disappointed that it is such a shameful goal in my gym world, but it doesn’t stop me from achieving my goals or moving forward. I will not be deterred. There is no one that will ever be able to convince me that running 14 half marathons in a year is going to be bad for me. My body can take the stress and/or strain if that’s what the issue is. I am conditioned and capable of the task. I am going to ignore the naysayers and move forward with the happy smile on my face. This is what I want and I always make what I want happen.
I keep envisioning myself in a year with a ton of medals and more importantly with the feeling of pride and happiness I will have from accomplishing what some consider crazy. Oh, I should also point out that my father in law thinks that 14 is probably too many to run in a year. I think he’s just trying to be nice and look out for us but it seems more often than not I am getting told what a not good idea this is when I know it’s a perfectly good idea for me. I have never been more capable physically and mentally in my entire life. In fact maybe there are some of you out there that think this is crazy, but if you’ve been reading my blog for any duration of time you should know that 1. I am slightly crazy 2. That crazy is just steadfast determination to achieve my goals and 3. Physically I can handle a lot, I am a work horse. 4. I haven’t backed down from a challenge yet.
I am a rare mix of crazy determination and steadfast dedication. The funny thing is I don’t doubt for a slight second that I will succeed at this. It just is slightly odd to me that some people don’t understand it. I guess there will always be those people who wish to bring you down a little! That is probably true of life in general. I shouldn’t let it bother me at all. Just an interesting observation really.
So tonight is my one kind of “free” night at the gym. There is only 1 30 minute class to do, and then I am on my own to do as I want. I am not sure what I want to do honestly. I can do strength training, I can run for 30 minutes or I just fuck around and barely accomplish anything. Ha Ha. I am tired. Let’s see. Saturday I ran 13.1 miles. Sunday I did a back and ab workout with Amanda for like 2 hours. Yesterday I did a 30 minute butts and guts class and then an hour of iron power strength training. Now today I am tired. Go figure. Doesn’t mean I won’t go to the gym and workout. I just have to figure out how much effort I want to put in. I do like to take it a little easier on Tuesday’s. Like only an hour of workout since Wednesday night is usually brutal for me with personal training and then an hour of Iron Power strength training. I like to kind of take it easy if I can on Tuesday’s. So whatever happens will be fine.
I will say this, it is only Tuesday and already I wish it were Friday and I want the weekend again. This moment I am also very glad I have another mini vacation on the books, for San Francisco in April. I can’t tell you how motivational it is to me to have something to constantly look forward to. It seems that once we take a mini trip I am always thinking about the next one. I guess I need things “out there” to keep me going. To keep life interesting. I have discovered for me that is pretty critical for my mental well-being. Who doesn’t want to take a break from the regular grind of life every now and then? Aside from the immense love of running half marathons I have discovered an insatiable urge to travel and explore. I guess this goes with the desire to truly live my life, step out of my comfort zone and live a little. Life is far more exciting when you are having fun and enjoying yourself.
I am watching all those Facebook videos of people’s lives with that sappy music and it’s just brining a giant smile to my face! You know what mine had, lots of running photos and it just made me happy. I am so in love with the life I am starting to form and the person I am becoming. My life is good. Today I shall smile because despite the fact that is snowing outside my heart is warm.
I think my commitment to my goal of 14 in 14 is making me happy. I think setting an epic goal and going for it is really helping my mood. Funny. I guess I am a goal oriented make a list and cross it off kind of girl. I guess I also just like the feeling of success. And the surest way to be successful is to set obtainable goals. Here’s the funny thing though, running is like the black sheep of the fitness world at a gym. I pretty much discovered this the first day I ever walked into the gym. The sentiment is felt by pretty much all employees. It’s a bizarre concept to me. I have had it drilled into my head that for whatever reason running is the anthesis of health. I am still baffled by this concept. I “see” where they are coming from but I’ve never 100% subscribed to their crazy Kool-Aid.
As excited as I am about my goal it is like this shameful dirty little secret that I am not supposed to discuss in my gym life. It’s funny. Last night I told my previous trainer Julie about my goal, I’m going to run 14 in 2014 and she looked at me with big eyes and said, “be careful.” I was immediately taken aback. She said that I didn’t need to do so much cardio and I have an obsessive personality and blah blah blah. I was honestly surprised. We aren’t talking about running those 50 mile uber runs or anything; it’s literally a freaking ½ marathon. It’s not like I am even saying 14 full marathons. I don’t really understand. And a year is a very long time honestly. So let’s just break this down a little. For the sake of argument, let’s just say I got super into this, like crazy over the top Emily kind of crazy and blew past my 14 in a year plan. This could realistically happen honestly. But it wouldn’t be like more than 2 a month. I don’t have all the money and time in the world for this. So for the sake of argument I run 2 half marathons in a month. That is a total of 26.2 miles a month. Its equivalent to about 4 ½ hours of running in a month. I rarely run much in between them. I am too busy doing all the strength training they have taught me at the gym.
So 4.5 hours of running in an entire month. That is NOTHING! Let’s not forget that I have on many occasion over the past 10 years ran consistently a minimum of 5-8 hours a week, every single week at points. In all honesty those 4.5 hours wouldn’t even touch my weekly running quota. I don’t do that anymore. I am happier for it, honestly. I am happier now not running that much. I think it’s because I don’t run that much anymore that I am excited to run half marathons. I don’t think this is excessive or asking too much of my body. Well, no more than I already put my body thru on a regular basis with every other crazy thing I do.
It’s just I’ve been told time and time again that cardio, running in particular is the devil. I’m floored and surprised by this concept as a whole. I am thankful that I no longer run an hour plus every day. I see their logic in this very flawed thinking, but a few half marathons are not going to kill me. If I was in physical pain afterwards. If my body was hobbling along for days post run I could understand. The most I’ve felt is tired for the duration of the rest of the day after I run, but I’m ready to go the next day. I am not in physical pain; I do not injure any body part in the process. Honestly it’s just not that big of a deal to me.
Let me put it this way. On any given Saturday or Sunday I pretty much spend 2 hours in the gym working out. Granted, there are many breaks in there and variety of exercise. It is not a solid my heart rate is elevated can’t stop, 2 hours 15 minutes of workout. But it’s typically 2 hours nonetheless. So on a particular weekend I choose to run instead of spending my 2 hours in the gym. And I get a shiny medal at the end of it for my efforts. I don’t get medals after my gym workouts so sometimes this seems more fun. I guess I’m not doing the runs as a means of physical fitness. I am not doing them to lose weight or even to burn calories. I am running because it is fun to me. I am running to push the limits of my heart.
I am honestly disappointed that it is such a shameful goal in my gym world, but it doesn’t stop me from achieving my goals or moving forward. I will not be deterred. There is no one that will ever be able to convince me that running 14 half marathons in a year is going to be bad for me. My body can take the stress and/or strain if that’s what the issue is. I am conditioned and capable of the task. I am going to ignore the naysayers and move forward with the happy smile on my face. This is what I want and I always make what I want happen.
I keep envisioning myself in a year with a ton of medals and more importantly with the feeling of pride and happiness I will have from accomplishing what some consider crazy. Oh, I should also point out that my father in law thinks that 14 is probably too many to run in a year. I think he’s just trying to be nice and look out for us but it seems more often than not I am getting told what a not good idea this is when I know it’s a perfectly good idea for me. I have never been more capable physically and mentally in my entire life. In fact maybe there are some of you out there that think this is crazy, but if you’ve been reading my blog for any duration of time you should know that 1. I am slightly crazy 2. That crazy is just steadfast determination to achieve my goals and 3. Physically I can handle a lot, I am a work horse. 4. I haven’t backed down from a challenge yet.
I am a rare mix of crazy determination and steadfast dedication. The funny thing is I don’t doubt for a slight second that I will succeed at this. It just is slightly odd to me that some people don’t understand it. I guess there will always be those people who wish to bring you down a little! That is probably true of life in general. I shouldn’t let it bother me at all. Just an interesting observation really.
So tonight is my one kind of “free” night at the gym. There is only 1 30 minute class to do, and then I am on my own to do as I want. I am not sure what I want to do honestly. I can do strength training, I can run for 30 minutes or I just fuck around and barely accomplish anything. Ha Ha. I am tired. Let’s see. Saturday I ran 13.1 miles. Sunday I did a back and ab workout with Amanda for like 2 hours. Yesterday I did a 30 minute butts and guts class and then an hour of iron power strength training. Now today I am tired. Go figure. Doesn’t mean I won’t go to the gym and workout. I just have to figure out how much effort I want to put in. I do like to take it a little easier on Tuesday’s. Like only an hour of workout since Wednesday night is usually brutal for me with personal training and then an hour of Iron Power strength training. I like to kind of take it easy if I can on Tuesday’s. So whatever happens will be fine.
I will say this, it is only Tuesday and already I wish it were Friday and I want the weekend again. This moment I am also very glad I have another mini vacation on the books, for San Francisco in April. I can’t tell you how motivational it is to me to have something to constantly look forward to. It seems that once we take a mini trip I am always thinking about the next one. I guess I need things “out there” to keep me going. To keep life interesting. I have discovered for me that is pretty critical for my mental well-being. Who doesn’t want to take a break from the regular grind of life every now and then? Aside from the immense love of running half marathons I have discovered an insatiable urge to travel and explore. I guess this goes with the desire to truly live my life, step out of my comfort zone and live a little. Life is far more exciting when you are having fun and enjoying yourself.
I am watching all those Facebook videos of people’s lives with that sappy music and it’s just brining a giant smile to my face! You know what mine had, lots of running photos and it just made me happy. I am so in love with the life I am starting to form and the person I am becoming. My life is good. Today I shall smile because despite the fact that is snowing outside my heart is warm.
Monday, February 3, 2014
14 in 2014
So this might have happened. I created this lovely little logo for my 14 in 14 challenge. so now its all but official my friends. It's posted over the right side of my blog as a constant reminder of my goals and dreams and that's pretty damned cool. I kind of love it as per typical. This is REALLY happening now. :)
A Life Lived
Have you ever noticed how I am one sappy, big picture kind of girl? Sure I can take life day by day and embrace the present and live and blah blah blah, but I am constantly looking at the big giant picture and trying to find greater meaning, sometimes to my detriment and sometimes where it often doesn’t exist. That’s just who I am.
I feel like my entire life can get broken down into two major categories. Times when I was unhealthy and times when I was healthy. I will refrain from using the word fat/thin because that is certainly not the goal. I can seriously break down my life in periods of time, increments of measurement based on how I felt about myself in relation to my health. My happiness is directly proportionate to where I am at physically. I wish that weren’t so but it’s easy to track and understand. While one has every single right and I hope ability to be happy no matter what their physical appearance may be, that is simply not the case for me. It’s not exactly the physical appearance that throws me off but the confidence and how I feel about myself. These are the things that limit my ability to fully enjoy my life. We are a fucked up kind of species aren’t we? Because of something so arbitrary and often times uncontrollable we chose to isolate ourselves, belittle our existence and not partake in living life. Kudos to every single person who is brave enough to embrace the concept of living despite whatever flaws bother them. This isn’t restricted to straight up weight issues by any means.
I suppose that is why I honestly champion the underdog, the story of the person who overcomes obstacles to do the things in life that make them happy. We all walk different paths and no one is right or wrong by any means, but often times our journeys have similar undertones. We must overcome the obstacles that we impose upon ourselves to be free. Every single time I look back and think about how much of my life I waste when I am in unhealthy land it blows my mind. When you are living it you may be aware that you are limiting yourself on some level but it’s only AFTER I am able to pull myself out of misery that I see how horrifically I was living. And it was all always my doing mind you. I am a horrible unhappy person. And by that I mean, I tend to become the worst possible version of not only myself, but as a member of society I kind of suck as well. I don’t partake in anything worthwhile; I go to work where all I ever manage to do is stay afloat, mind you dressed poorly, complete lack of respect for oneself, leaving me a horrific representation of my company. I’m sure my bosses love it when I am unhealthy (notice the word choice of unhealthy here instead of fat). I then come home and waste myself away on the couch watching TV and eating nonstop. Certainly fearful of ever leaving the house to face the horrors of public life. (Less I be judged for my appearance or clearly unhealthy choices). Some people pull off their insecurities much better than I do. I have an amazing sister who is a classic example of keeping it all together, dressing appropriately and with love and care for herself despite her size. I am not one of those people. I walk around with ugly ass stained clothes for some reason and a general look of do not care.
In a nutshell I give up on myself. I give up on life. These are my least favorite parts of my life and honestly the ones that I remember the least, as a whole. I remember the big abstract feeling it created in me. I remember the periods of time for sure. But because they produced so few memorable experiences they are often times the ones I don’t have a lot of memory of. Wasting your life and potential is far easier than it should be.
Of course the moment I take control of my happiness and subsequent health I start to change. I start to want to live and do those things that I dream about in the back of my head when I am sitting on the couch eating my life away. I find myself often embracing the concept of why not me? I watched the Superbowl yesterday. I have to admit it’s the first football game I might have watched in my entire life, but it actually was kind of interesting and the Seahawks quarter back talked about the concept of embracing the, “Why not us?” mentality. That his dad told him, why not you? And it made me smile because often times this past year I myself have said out loud, why not me? Quit thinking that life experiences and dreams and happiness belong to someone else. Why not you? Sure, it’s scary, but why the hell NOT you? You are as good as anyone else and worthy of whatever it is you desire. Just make it happen.
When you are in the process of living it is hard to see epic things for what they are. It is only in hindsight that we often really appreciate the beauty of situations. The importance or significance of what has happened. I try very hard to live in some of the moments to really get the fullest effect of what is occurring but admit that it is hard to see the bigger picture in the small moments. This is probably why I adore sitting back and pondering the reality of time and change. I often find myself thinking back in terms of years. This time last year, or this time next year. Those are phrases I say a lot. It is a good way for me to gauge where I’ve come from and where I can go.
For example, this time last year I was getting ready to head to Las Vegas to see Pink perform. This was an epic moment in my life. It was the culmination of all the hard work that prompted me to start to regain control of my life again. Of course this time last year I was still in the 170 pound range. I had no idea what was to come for me. But just going to Vegas and deciding to live my life was a huge first step. That single act took a lot of courage for me and I am so thankful I have that experience in my memory banks. We will never regret the cool things we’ve done, the risks we’ve taken, but we certainly will regret the things we were afraid to do. I can think of so many things that I wish I would have done. Lame. I say lame because I let fear and self-doubt stop me far too many times in my life. That girl a year ago who was getting ready to head to Vegas had no idea what the next year would bring for her. Could not have predicted the girl who is writing this today. And I love this idea so much because it means that even as I am fully aware of my potential today, I have zero clues what the girl of my future, the girl who will write an entry on this blog in one year will be like. That is pretty damned cool. Because I have faith that no matter what it is, it will be amazing and I will be doing things and living my life.
Here’s another mind blower for me. In my entire battle of my weight, 10 plus years, I have consistently come back to running. My life may fluxuate up and down but every single time I get healthy I run. Some of it is because it’s what I knew to do, but on a much deeper level we all know it’s because I have the heart of a runner. There is nothing in this world that frees me like a good endorphin producing run. I may go astray at points in my life but my heart will always come back to running. It is the one thing that I can do for me, and only me. I am not doing it for another soul but instead of feed my own soul. 10 years of this love and it was only last September that I ran a race for the first time. I spent the better part of 10 years being terrified to run in public. Being terrified of I am not exactly sure what. Not being good enough? For who? Running is only about you and you alone. And yet it took me 10 years to learn this lesson. In the past 4 months I have completed 4 half marathons. Prior to that my entire life nothing nada. Wait, I ran one 5k once like 4 years ago but it barely counts.
It took me 10 years to believe in myself enough to decide it was time to go the distance, literally. And in true Emily fashion, it had to be half marathons. In my heart I do know that someday I will run one full marathon. I don’t know that I will run more than one because that seems crazy to me, but I will do one. But the time is not now, it is not this year. I will have to train for that and I am not ready yet. I just want to enjoy the happiness that running is bringing me. I want to enjoy the things I am accomplishing. I still think 13.1 miles is a respectable distance. I think the half marathon is still a hard enough challenge all around. I’m not going to lie, it is still HARD and a lot of work to run for 2 plus hours. 2 hours 12 minutes to be exact this last weekend. By about an hour and a half I want to quit. I think that is what I love about running so much. After 90 minutes my body wants to quit but I have to use my mental strength to keep going. I love the feeling of overcoming the mental battle with oneself. I love crossing the finish line. That is the biggest HIGH I have ever gotten in my entire life. I am addicted to the high of crossing a finish line.
I think it’s knowing that I overcame the mental challenge and finished. I don’t know if I’d love the finish line crossing as much if I didn’t have a struggle that I overcame. Is that weird? I think that’s why I am not addicted to running 5k’s which are clearly a much easier distance. There is no struggle and therefore no reward at this point for me. I think it’s an amazing thing to overcome, if that is where you are at. I am not going to knock someone running a 5k at all. I know what goes into every single step of it and it can be challenging as well. I hope no one takes offence by that. Whatever level you are at, the point is you need to push yourself. For me the pushing comes at the half marathon distance. Okay, really after 10 miles and it is HARD. 10 miles is ususally my body’s break point.
I am not sure why it has taken me 10 years to realize that running half marathons produces this euphoric high in myself. It is a challenge and a struggle every time, but the reward is epic. The sense of self is profound afterwards. The more I do it, the more I want it. I am a drug addict waiting for my next fix. And yet, every time I start a race and the first few miles are epically hard I think to myself, why the hell am I doing this? Why do I want to do this? When I am at mile 3 of 13 I wonder what the fuck I am doing. But I keep running. I guess that’s the point. I just keep going no matter what and that is the metaphor I take away from it. That is the endurance and perseverance that carries me thru, this is the symbol of my entire life. I keep going. Even when I want to quit, even when I have failed, I just keep going. Just a little bit longer and surely eventually I will overcome. I WILL cross that finish line and get my medal of honor. I won’t ever win any races. My time will never be beyond stellar, but that is beyond the point for me. The point is that I ran 13.1 miles, even when it got so tough I wanted to quit, I didn’t. Even when my body was exhausted, I ran.
I guess that is what I love about half marathons so much. They are the ultimate symbol for my entire life. When things get tough, I will push thru and overcome. I can walk this journey because my heart is that of a champion, a fighter. I won’t quit because it’s tough. I will endure. Time and time again I will rise to the challenge and endure the struggle because the ultimate reward is life. It is living my life. I will smile because I lived my life, finally, on my terms.
Starting a half marathon 13.1 mile run is not easy even for me. I have to stare down what I know is a long rough road. But it is always worth it. I learn something more about myself every single time. I am 1000% in now. I am in this for my goal this year. I am going to run my heart out this year and embrace my life. I am going to make up for the past 10 years where I was too afraid to embrace publically running. I am going to make up for the happiness I have denied myself for far too long. I will succeed at this because I believe it in my heart. 14 in 14 are happening. And when it gets tough I will reread one of these posts that reminds me the struggle is worth the reward. And some day, maybe a year from now, maybe years from now I will smile because it was life and I decided to live it!
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