NYE

I have 19 minutes to write this and still have it post in December 2011. Oh bless. 18 minutes. So anyway, resolutions freak me out. They always have. Mostly I think it is because I have very limited will power, but I'm sure it also involves commitment and overanalyzation. Anyhoo... I wasn't going to write at all today, and I certainly wasn't going to lay out on the line any amazing triumphs or life changes that I'm hoping for or promising. Just thinking about making an official resolution, it's like I'm a freight train.... no, like I'm the front seat on the rickety old Rebel Yell - just about to crest the peak and zoom down, sounding like I might jump track or spontaneously crack at any moment. The necessary objective is of course not to make myself sick.

I started all of this business last January with my bicycle Christmas present and the hope of getting myself off the couch. It wasn't a resolution, and I didn't start until a few weeks into January, but reading back through my posts and looking over my events page, it's definitely satisfying to see how far I've come in the last year. I have hope that 2012 fills me with similar moments of happiness, that it helps me to connect with old friends and make new ones, that I find myself talking about exercise, making plans, setting goals, and living my life more fully. More than anything else, I feel as though that has been my crowning achievement this year. If there is only one life to live here on earth, I want to confidently grasp opportunties as they are presented. Hesitation, excuses, anxiety, and avoidance are all hinderances and self-imposed limitations. I am sick of them.

If you are sick of them too, or if you've already left them in the dust years ago, I invite you to continue this journey with me into 2012 so that we can live fully - live LOUD - together.

As You Wish

Marriage, that blessed arrangement... that dream within a dream....

When Justin and I started dating and he offered to go running with me, I was slightly appreciative, mildly irritated, and nervously avoidant. When we got married, I'm certain that he gave up all hopes of every having a wedded running partner. Even a year ago I never would have thought that the two of us would ever, EVER go running on purpose for entertainment.

Today was a new day. The weather was beautiful, and after cleaning house we set out for a lovely, slow-paced, afternoon run. We stopped for just a couple of minutes to say hello to friends along the trail, but otherwise we really enjoyed ourselves. Who would have thought it could be possible? Ten years later, I'm thankful that he hadn't given up on me.

Here's a shot of us when we got home.

Then of course we were starving... and food is necessary....

It was a very good thing that the Farm Boy never gave up on Buttercup.

Chutes and Ladders

I never liked the game Chutes and Ladders when I was a kid. I always landed on the worst square, getting so close to the top and then tumbling down while listening to insensitive snickers from other players. I hated that there was no strategy and that I was completely at the mercy of the game.

(Look closely... you can see me on square 87... I'm even getting into the cookie jar)


These days, it is easy enough to find/develop/create a strategy for life, and yet I'm the one pushing myself down the slippery slope. Complaining to my husband tonight of fatigue and a headache, he asked me if I'd taken anything. My answer? "Yeah, I ate four cookies." Ohh... maybe eating those cookies while he was putting our son to sleep wasn't the best idea. Maybe on the heels of the snowman peep that I devoured during our block tower building session tonight, following the wine, cheese, chips and guacamole excuse for a dinner, which succeeded the vanilla latte and Flan Normand afternoon delight, and the previously consumed beer flight and pizza lunch....

Maybe I'm now skipping ahead on the board to the precipice of disaster time and time again, just hoping to scream, "wheee! This time I've done it to myself!" What kind of weird masochist spends an entire year trying to get more healthy and fit only to design personal sabotage?

The apparent answer to that question is ... ME.

Thank goodness I got out for a short, brisk run this morning. Thank goodness I have an awesome friend who invited me. Thank goodness I'm running another 5k on Saturday, and I have a different-but-still-totally-awesome friend who invited me for that. Thank goodness I have a husband that loves me and laughs at my cookie consumption and brings me two Bayer and a glass of water.

Slight Improvement

Ask and it shall be delivered! Wow! Several of you wrote, called, or asked me in person what I've been up to since last week's post. Talk about a much-needed lifeline!

I am very happy to say that my inadequate willpower has been trumped by my overly developed worry for public humiliation, and I haven't binged in the candy bowl at work since my last post. I'd be happier if I could say honestly that I haven't binged at all, but the privacy of my own kitchen seems to be my downfall. Cursed Christmas cookies. Fortunately I have almost eaten them all, so soon enough they may not be a problem. They aren't even that good, which I don't understand but am old enough to just admit. I live in a small house. Half of the time I'm standing in front of the open refrigerator before I realize it or stop to think why. It's enough that I'm passing it: of course I should open it... maybe there is something good in there. Nevermind that I'm the person who puts the stuff in there in the first place, and nevermind the fact that I've probably looked four times in the past two hours. Hrumph.

I have been running more often lately though, which is a very good thing, but I'm fairly certain that my calories burned still exceed my unnecessary calories consumed. By a factor of 5. Possibly 10. Thank God for good friends who have joined me to go running. You all rock. You keep my excuses at bay, my mind preoccupied, and my spirits up. I guess I'm really one lucky girl with a slight ridiculous cookie appreciation compulsion.

Maybe this should be my new race outfit.... just add long sleeves and leggings?

It's Not Just a River in Egypt

You may have noticed I've been sort of quiet lately. There is the possibility that you've sat at your computer wondering why I haven't been posting very often. Perhaps you've come to the conclusion that I am so busy working out, that it is getting harder and harder to squeeze in a regular blog post. I love you for these thoughts. In my own eyes-looking-up-and-to-the-left sort of way as I seek an excuse that aligns with your assumptions, I love you. Thanks. Bunches.

The hard reality is that I am in desperate need of cruising through the winter solstice and gaining precious moments of daylight again. I've been quiet because I haven't wanted to be taken to task about my wimpy workouts or my sucky dietary choices (mostly just crap with a few vegetables thrown in here and there to make me feel better about what I'm inhaling). Yes... wimpy and sucky. Both.

Denial (also called abnegation) is a defense mechanism postulated by Sigmund Freud, in which a person is faced with a fact that is too uncomfortable to accept and rejects it instead, insisting that it is not true despite what may be overwhelming evidence. --- Thank you All-Knowing Wikipedia

A.B.N.E.G.A.T.I.O.N. - That's me.

Awareness is crucial at this point. I'm sure I pushed myself into this state. There should have been a WARNING label.

Caution! Registering to run 13.1 CONSECUTIVE miles may trigger natural defense mechanisms in the form of binge eating and a significant reduction in overall activity level.

You could do us both a favor by saving me from myself. Think of it. Next time you're wondering where I am or what I'm doing... just ask. Hold me accountable. I'm begging you.

Happy Birthday to Me

My husband and I had agreed that the title of this blog post would be "Suck it 35", but as I get more readers who know me in my professional life, I'm just putting it out there that I KNOW that isn't a very ladylike title. So I changed it. But there is an edge of compromise in telling you, and many of you know how I feel about this birthday in particular.

My birthday celebration of choice this year was to sign up for the Veteran's Day 10K. I registered a couple of months ago and managed to get my friend and my sister (who is by the way a very, very good friend of mine thankfully) to register as well. I've been excited about setting new goals for myself, and for a long time the event was a single line on an otherwise empty weekend on the calendar.

And then Phil asked if I wanted to go rowing again that same day but later in the afternoon. My thoughts were that #1 - heck yeah, I absolutely wanted to go rowing again, and #2 - it would be no problem because there were hours between the run and the row, and the row was going to be a "leisurely row" that culminated in a family picnic for rowers from his boat club. So my calendar had two events.

Last Tuesday my husband came home from work and told me that we'd been invited to the Cystic Fibrosis Gala, which just happened to be the night before my race. Thoughts about that were #1 - it would be fun to go out for a nice evening with my husband and #2 - we would just come home at a reasonable hour and both keep in mind that I had a race in the morning. So I desperately called babysitters (*Thank you Kaitlin!*), and we added that event as well.

Here is a photo of us as we were getting a loving send off and responsibly leaving the house at 6pm:

And here's a photo of us well past midnight after I convinced myself that the race was only a portion of my birthday celebration, that an evening of dressing up and dancing was too good to pass up by being overly responsible:

And then came Sunday morning...

I've been nervous about the race for a while now, but it really wasn't too bad. Some great advice from my friend Josh helped get me through the self-talk challenge, and I was able to keep putting one foot in front of the other until we finally crossed the finish line. Josh suggested that I purposely take it slowly in the beginning and after finishing the first 5K to try and mentally set it aside as though it hadn't happened, so that I could run the second with a clearer mind and attitude. It worked well - my second 5K was a few minutes faster than the first, and overall I finished with a time of 65:28 (10:33/mi). Could I have been faster if I hadn't gone out Saturday night? Possibly. Might I not have wanted to curl up on the side of the road for a nap between miles 4-6? Probably. Would I do it again the same way? Absolutely.

Here's a post-race shot of the three of us:

I had just enough time at home to get cleaned up and bake cornbread for the picnic. Coincidentally, our row was also a 10K distance and was a lot of fun. As we set out, Phil asked if I wanted to take it easy for the first half and then try and row for a time on the way back. It was impossible not to think of Josh's advice and smile. Sure thing. Who wants leisurely on a weekend like this?!

Suck it 35! Happy Birthday to ME!

Go Slow to Go Fast

I am feeling so much better thankfully, and yesterday I went out for my longest run so far. According to MapMyRun, I managed 6.1 miles. They were not fast miles, but they were my miles - I am claiming them. For the first time at a longer distance, I wasn't mentally trying to hurl each mile away from myself. Instead of internally kicking around "@#$#$% 3 miles", I actually kept increasing my time and distance just because I could. These miles were like my friends.

How might you ask????

Uh, by running at the pace of my neighbor kid's tricycle.

After registering for the half-marathon in March, I spent the week in panic mode trying to figure out what I need to do between now and then. Many, many thanks to ALL of you that have given me such great advice. Between your words of wisdom and the articles I've found, I am feeling so much better about my registration. The highlights?

1. Watch heart rate. This of course irritates me to no end because everything I read is telling me to keep my heart rate under 155 if I want to be able to keep running for very long. I don't even know if that is possible. I compromised yesterday and tried to keep my HR under 170. Generally for these 5K distances and when I run on the treadmill, it's around 183, so just believe me when I say I'm trying.

2. Long Slow Distance. Check. Husband approved the plan to schedule a long-distance run every Saturday or Sunday until the race in March. He'll either gym with the babysitting option or trade places with me at some other point in the weekend. I have 17 more LSD runs between now and the official race on St. Patty's, AND my brand-new-super-cool-very-manly-looking Garmin Forerunner just showed up Saturday afternoon, so now I'll know exactly how far I've gone and how quickly.

3. Run hills. Yuck. It's true though. When my personal advisers (ahem.... Luke :-) AND the running articles all say the same thing, I am forced to believe that the best thing for me to do will be to basically torture myself over and over on a weekly basis. Maybe bi-weekly.... monthly....?

I tell the girls at practice that they need to go slow to go fast as a way of encouraging them to find their own pace and not be pressured by others to run more quickly than they can maintain. It is such easy advice to give - just go slowly enough that you can keep running. It's sort of hard to do though. As I came across other runners, I confess that there was an embarrassed part of me that wished I was running faster. Maybe one day I'll be more zippy, but for now, with my 170 compromise, slow and tricycle-like is just where I am. And, if slow and tricycle-like manages to get me across a finish line 13.1 miles away from where I initially started, that will be just fine.

Just Breathe

Two weeks ago I started feeling sick - typical sinus infection that after a week rolled into a chest cold. If there wasn't always something to do - at home, at work, etc., I would have tried to go to the doctor earlier. The thing is, there is a formula for going to the doctor. It's basically making the appointment when I've been sick for a minimum of five days but fewer than ten. Fewer than five and it may be a virus, but once I've gotten to ten, the logical response from the doctor is that I've almost kicked it, so why bother with antibiotics? In any event, my fault for being busy. I didn't go in the magic window and started to believe that I was kicking it myself.

But now, about 16 days in, I'm having a hard time. Last Wednesday I got off the treadmill two miles in after realizing that I was struggling for air - not just gasping for air, which I'm totally used to - but actually struggling and using a great deal of energy to try and suck oxygen into my lungs. It was like I was using a straw and just couldn't get enough. So I got off, went to stretch, used the free weights, and went home. I've taken things easy and haven't tried to exercise much since, with the exception of a 5K run Sunday morning. Two miles into the run, I had the same experience. I actually walked for about twenty seconds - just long enough to try and inflate. My time was still good for me. I did it in 30:45 and so averaged a 9:54/mi, but it wasn't a pretty, full-of-light skipping run. It was a bit more like an elephant being chased by a taser. Thump thump wheeze. Thump thump wheeze. After the race, I felt much better and went out for breakfast with friends. Only later that afternoon, the lack of air feeling came back, and I struggled with it throughout the night.

Monday morning I called the doctor the minute they opened. She confirmed that it was asthma with a dose of upper respiratory infection. Crap. She gave me prescriptions for a new inhaler and antibiotics. I'm pretty sure I'd be happier with pneumonia or some other diagnosis that could just go away with the right meds. Asthma sucks. I came home and registered for a half-marathon in March. This is the way I handle frustration. Knee jerk denial mixed with utter lunacy.

So the bottom line is that I'm excessively grumpy about my lack of ability to breathe. I took the day off today to stay home with my son, who is coincidentally sick right now of some post-Halloween middle-of-the-night fever and lethargy, and I was able to take a nap during his. I dreamed that the road I was driving on was gradually submerging into the ocean, and I was trying to keep to the surface, and I got out of the car so that I could, but I kept getting pulled down.

The worst part is that the Pollyanna in me just keeps thinking of people who experience this all the time. Asthma, cystic fibrosis, ALS.... I can't even feel cranky without heaping on guilt about it. I really do have it so good.

Perspective

Yesterday morning I arranged to meet my sister for a run around Burke Lake. One loop is 4.7 miles, which for me is a longer-than-usual run and requires finding extra stamina and internal "grit". This grit is necessary to combat all of the predatory thoughts that seek to destroy my objective.

As I entered the park I was immediately struck by how many people were there. It was like a sci-fi movie of ant-like people scurrying in every direction. Saying hello, she and I both remarked on the trail traffic we were sure to encounter and laughed as we each acted out our sorry selves serving as interference for those much speedier.

In order to get full credit for the 4.7 while still getting in a little warm up, we chose to take a walk around the parking lot instead of heading immediately onto the trail. What. A. Mistake. We overheard a few people talking about how many laps they were going for. Laps? In my world one complete loop around the lake is IT. It isn't a LAP!! Lap implies having to do it multiple times. And we knew they meant multiple by the answers - "oh, four today" and "I don't know. Last time I just kept going until I wasn't coherant any more... I think it was probably six." Are you kidding me?!

Now that I have exercise, and more specifically triathon, on the brain, I am much more attuned to bumper magnets that proudly display driver accomplishments. It's sort of exciting (in a really goofy and probably very dorky way) to see 70.3 and 140.6 as I am out and about. The very fact that those distances are so far, and that there is a very small club of people out there who can say that they have done these, keep the sightings fairly irregular.

Until we got to the lake on Saturday morning. I am convinced that everyone in Northern Virginia who has ever done an half or a full Ironman was at the lake with us. After the first row of cars, I was nearly speechless and my sister was laughing so hard she could barely walk straight. Aside from ours, which cars DIDN'T say one of the following: 26.2, 70.3, 140.6?!?! To say that we were getting intimidated doesn't even come close. If she hadn't been with me, I am positive I would have driven home immediately.

But we began. Amidst the throngs of mega-athletes, we were able to find a pace and keep going. Everywhere were runners clad in their long-distance regalia. Such-and-such Iron Man. Insert Name Marathon. Dare to Tri. I swear one man lapped us four times. I can't even get how that is humanly possible.

On the Water

Today was a beautiful day. My babysitter was kind enough to come over at 8:30, which I don't think I would have ever done for anyone on my day off when I was in high school, and Phil and I agreed to meet at the boathouse at 9:00. I didn't see him at first, so I walked down to the water by the dock and just took a few minutes to look around and soak it all in.

Walking back up the hill I saw him and exchanged some good morning pleasantries with a few other rowers. They were all very supportive and gave "it's just like riding a bike"-type encouragement.

It's funny when you take apart all of the little pieces of rowing. Taking out oars, navigating the boathouse to get your boat without whacking any others, following space and place protocols, setting in and getting ready - they are all of the little steps before you even get in and push off the dock.

Thankfully we started slowly. Phil recommended we start at 1/4 slide initially and build from there. Rowing for my high school team, and the little I did in college, was all sweep, but in the summers and fall I would get in some sculling. I'm not sure that my memories would have been any less taxed had we been out in an eight today, but I do know that most of my mess ups would have been far less noticeable than in our double.

The upshot was rowing with someone whose strength-to-weight ratio crushes mine (like, ridiculously), so my lack of umph wasn't really as obvious as it might have been. (Well, it wasn't as obvious to ME at least.) We actually did well enough today on the windy river, and I actually think with a little more practice, we could be really good at it.

Here we are just before heading in to the dock.

Splashed with water and having removed my sunglasses while staring into the sun may not be my best look, but at least you can tell I'm happy.

My hands.... not so much.

What's seven blisters on your hands compared to a morning row? Proof that you should do it more often. I came home and registered for the Mid-Atlantic Erg Sprints. Yes. Me. The "I Hate Erging" girl just signed up to do it in front of people and supposedly for fun. It isn't until February, so I have plenty of time to practice and get a little stronger.

Justin's Triathlon

Today was Justin's first sprint triathlon - 250yd swim, 11mi bike, and 3.1mi run. It was awesome to watch him, but next time I hope to be doing it together. Here's a quick recap of his race from my viewpoint:


Heading out on the bike-

Back to Transition-

My goofy little boy trapped in the stroller so of course is playing with food-

To the finish line!

All smiles with John-

Family photo - Lochlan is irritated and will not smile for camera.

Lochlan pointing out preferred activity-

Thankful for the nearby playground.

Now we just have to find a race for 2012.

Wounded Warrior 4.7

Sunday morning was my first race that involved going beyond the 5K comfort zone, and I am thrilled to say that it went really well. The final results have been posted, and oddly enough the chip time and the gun time were identical for all participants. Given that Dee Dee and I were towards the rear of the pack waiting for the start, I know we didn't cross the start line at the exact moment that the horn sounded. In fact, I expected more of an announcement, or group warm up, or... something. It was just "hhhooonnnkkk" and then everyone started moving. Either way, chip time or gun time or wrist watch, we ran the 4.7 miles in exactly 47 minutes. I was hoping for anything under 50:00, so realizing that we were maintaining a 10:00/mile pace was great.

Here's a quick break down of my race:

Mile One
Me: Okay, start slowly.... Oh! Love the new opening song.... La la la happy happy happy
(Exchanged some type of start-of-race pleasantries with Dee Dee)
Me: So in my last triathlon, I rode my bike with a really nice girl and half the way through it, she kept slowing down. My point here of course is that you are not supposed to wait for me. Run a good race!
Dee Dee: Laughter
Me: No really.

Mile Two
Me: Loosening up, oh, er, @#$#... so much for pacing with the iPod. Stupid buttons. C'mon Rhianna....
Dee Dee: We're right at a 10:00/mile!
Me: Um, oh good! Oh crap, can I keep running like this the entire way?

Mile Three
Me: 5K would be over, so I'm 2/3 through. God Bless Dee Dee for running with me.
Dee Dee: (Thumbs up sign at exactly 3 miles to let me know we're still at the same pace.)

Mile Four
Me: Body check... heart good, lungs good, legs starting to whimp out.... Love my new playlist.... feeling tired.... Is that lady really pushing a seven-year-old in her jogging stroller?
Dee Dee: Getting water - we're almost finished!

Final .7 miles
Me: I am so ready for this to be over.
Dee Dee: Only five more minutes!
Me: Thank God for Dee Dee.
Random Guy #1: Best quarter mile yet!
Me: Yep, but if I sprint now, I'll die 100 yards before the finish line.
Random Guy #2: Only a quarter of a mile to go!
Me: That's what the last guy said two minutes ago.
Random Girl: Last quarter mile!
Me: What the heck? Who are these people and who lets them cheer on runners?!

And then we turned a corner, and we were done! The first guy was probably right, and there may have been some sprint stored up in me left, but what a great feeling to cross the finish line and feel like I actually had more to give.

The sky opened, we had a quick shower and headed to the car. On the way home, the clouds parted and we drove by a beautiful and complete rainbow.

And for anyone interested, here's the playlist:

Breakin' Up - Rilo Kiley
Dynamite - Taio Cruz
Hips Don't Lie - Shakira
What I've Done - Marie Digby
Umbrella - Rhianna
Pocket Full of Sunshine - Jia Clayton
The Fear - Lily Allen
Mad World - Adam Lambert
Survivor - Destiny's Child
Carry On Wayward Son - Kansas
Set Fire to the Rain - Adele
Price Tag - Jesse J
I Write Sins Not Tragedies - Panic at the Disco
Forever and Almost Always - Kate Voegele

Pink N Green

Wow, so there's been lots of positive feedback in support of the current blog style. Thanks so much for taking the time to say something. When I took a look at the new idea on my iPad and realized that it was nothing like what it looked like on the laptop, I was reminded of how little I know and how little time I have to really spend in order to figure it all out. As it is, I start feeling guilty when a full week passes and I haven't even written a post. Most of that is finding time, some of that is feeling like it's hard to spice up the redundancy of "I ran on the treadmill today", and a some of it is that I start to feel disconnected - like if I don't write, it could be interpreted as though I don't love all of you, and of course I do, or you'll think I've given up or have stopped moving, and of course I haven't, and on top of all that, I want you to keep reading and giving me words of wisdom and advice because it is really just so good for me.

Whenever anyone asks me what has helped me the most this year, my response for the most part has been, "well see, I write this silly little blog." I was sort of shy about it at first because I felt a bit premature in assuming that anyone would be interested in my personal goals, and I will never forget the day several years ago that a co-worker of mine said in the staff lounge, "Eh, blogs. Everybody thinks they're so damn important."

But over the past few months, I have gotten to the point that I just blurt out "the best thing for me by far has been writing a blog." For anyone out there who wants to make some big changes in their lives, I can't think of better advice to give than to start sharing your thoughts, feelings, ups and downs publicly. You might find, as I have, that you are important, that you are worth making the big changes, and that there are lots of people who will be eager to support you.