Mental Maneuverings

Over the past few days I've been working to remind myself of what is important to me and ultimately what goals I have for myself. The 13.1 in March has been looming over me. More and more I realized that I've been getting anxious about working out to the point that several times I've given up just to avoid a full blown panic attack.

That isn't what I was trying to do, and CERTAINLY isn't what I want to do. Still, knowing that I was supposed to run X number of miles on this day so that I could run Y on that day so that eventually I will be able to run X to the power of Y by St. Patrick's Day... well... okay, not exactly that far...

It's freaking me out. Not to mention the never-ending mental math I find myself computing everywhere I go.... "If I run at this pace... multiply that by 13.1... add a few minutes for a slow start to get going..."

Ugh. Compared to a flighty zumba class, a good row, or trying out my new waterproof headphones in the pool (thank you Santa), it's been a real fun suck.

I am so impressed by my new long-distance athlete friends, and I love reading about their training and adventures. What I'm realizing though is that I am unintentionally making comparisons to myself, or feeling stressed out knowing that this one is doing a 2000 mile bike ride on Saturday while that one is swimming the English Channel. I've started following several blogs and group pages, and have been somewhat stunned by the information overload of athleticism.

And then I started to freak out because I could see my body starting to change in very much THE OPPOSITE direction. So I ate more cookies and baked more cakes and avoided it all, because that's how I roll.

So now, having had time to analyze my behaviors and therapize myself, I know that I need to get back to the good stuff. I need to be happy that my workout tonight included 20 minutes on the bike followed by 20 minutes on the treadmill and not hugely disappointed because I didn't get very far on either. I need to remember that every step I take is a gift that I'm giving to myself and enjoy taking many, many more of them. The 13.1 isn't my goal. It's just one strategy in getting me there, and now that I'm looking at it that way, I'm ready to make it as much fun as it can possibly be.

Overwhelmed Stress Case

Once again I've been hunkered on the quiet side. It's true that there is a parallel correspondence between my posts and my activity level, but this time my silence exceeds even that explanation. ...

I wrote that last week. It was as far as I got - as I could get. The past couple of weeks haven't been my best ever - thankfully not my worst ever either, but if I could choose, I would never repeat them. I've started countless blog posts in my mind, initially feeling like I needed to explain what was going on, but unless you feel like reading A LOT and learning WAY TOO MUCH about me, you'll be glad that I never mustered the time, focus or energy to sit long enough to do it.

Thanks to TriGirl for pinning this. It made me laugh in a very, oh. my. lawd. kind of way. I needed it.

Just imagine a very large empty blender. Toss me in along with some physical illness, a great deal of family stress, work uncertainty (not regarding my security - just project direction), and the discovery that for the past three months my pharmacy has given me the wrong medication, hit liquefy, and see what comes out. The result isn't very pretty and doesn't work out much.

So, I'm missing the erg sprints today and telling myself to get over it and let it go rather than beating myself up too badly. I'm thankful to be feeling better and know that regardless of the lack of clarity, I work with some RIDICULOUSLY fun and amazing people and wouldn't want to give up one for the other, and thankfully there aren't any long-term side effects from the incorrectly dispensed medication.

Basically, I've just needed a break. Yes, it's probably going to be harder for me this next week as I try to get back into it, but that's life... or at least mine anyway.

Havin' Words

Not a day goes by that I don't in some way panic over the Rock N Roll Half in March. With two months to go, it's important for me to get in a longer distance run on the weekends, and while I've been feeling kind of junky (stuffy head, sore throat, cough etc.), I was nervous about letting this weekend slip by just because I'm not feeling that well. It's sort of like work. Before having kids, if I felt like this, I would take the day off to recover. Now that I have two kids, and I have to take time off to care for them when they are sick, my resiliency to discomfort has fortunately toughened. I snicker a bit as I write this thinking of my childless co-workers. It's always a sick sort of fun to see them get pregnant, have babies, and toughen up themselves.

But anyway, my compromise was to stick with the safety of the temperature controlled gym rather than brave the cold outdoors and make an attempt at a longer run. Based on the training schedule, I was supposed to run eight miles this weekend. My hope was to finish six.

The first three miles were icky. I was moving slowly, I was achy, borderline miserable, and negotiating with myself how to re-structure my plan for the day without completely feeling like a loser. Overall it's a good thing when your own excuses even sound too pathetic to yourself, but it's sort of crappy to go through the internal monologue.

Whiny Me: Okay, so I'm sick. I can be happy that I'm here at all.
Publicly Accountable Me: Yeah, but people out there know you're doing this.
Whiny Me: But everyone gets sick at some point.
Publicly Accountable Me: You're not that sick. Suck it up.
Whiny Me: Okay. I won't quit now. I'll complete a 5K distance, which is somewhat legit, and then it won't be so bad to go home. My heart rate is too high anyway.
Publicly Accountable Me: The girls from work are running for real this weekend. Not a slow, somewhat legit 5K. And your heart rate is always too high. Stop looking at it.
Whiny Me: Why in God's name did I sign up for this thing?
Publicly Accountable Me: You talk too much. Listen to the music.

So I listened. Initially I bargained that I'd just run for one more song, and then I wanted to run to a rounded number of miles, and then it was an even amount of time. Thankfully, things evened out, and I found myself coming up on my eight miles.

And then, wouldn't you know it, but that SOB machine had the audacity to try and kick me off. Apparently, you can only run for 90 minutes on the treadmill, which makes sense to me if there are people waiting, but with the majority of the machines empty is really just a nuisance. Anyhoo... you all know that I'm a slow runner. So, when at 90 minutes the machine told me it was time to cool down, I started to lose it. The convo was more like this:

Joshua (aka: speak-n-spell sounding machine with mockingly evil intent): Your time is up. Game over.
Me: What?! Are you freaking kidding me?
Joshua: You get 90 minutes. You are too slow. I am slowing down for your two minute cool down.
Me: Oh no you did not just start to slow down. (Pressing "UP" button frantically)
Joshua: You are sad.
Me: Listen you stupid SOB, I need eight miles. Not 7.87, not 7.95. Eight. (Pressing "UP button even more)
Joshua: Tick, tick, tick. Want to play again? Maybe you will do better.
Me: No, I REFUSE. (Realising that while I've just run for 90 minutes at a 5.3 (11:20 ish pace, I am now running these final two minutes at an 8.4, which is about a 7:10)

And there it is. I pass 8 miles at 91:17.

Humph.

Pinterest: Making Me the Woman I've Always Wanted to Be

In the past few months, Pinterest seems to have taken the online community by storm. My work community has embraced the site for both personal (everyone loves new hair, clothing and DIY ideas in an elementary school) and professional (again, I'd be interested in seeing a breakdown of active Pinterest users by career field) reasons. As a school counselor, I've been really happy to see a lot of great ideas and have an easy way of keeping track of them.

Where am I going with this?

Aside from my very exciting fingernails...

...and some homemade coasters...

it actually is giving me some great ideas about diet and some useful reminders for motivation.

As you know, the only thing consistent about my diet is the lack there of. I love cookies. If you're opening a bottle of wine, I'll gladly have a glass. My idea of a post run treat is a giant hamburger and onion rings.

But in an effort to enjoy good food while working on a new fitness goal (this crazy 13.1 of mine), I've started looking for more recipes that will give me some balance. And let me tell you, Pinterest is making it possible.

The black bean, cilantro, avocado recipe was awesome, I made a grilled zucchini corn salad with added grilled asparagus that was a big hit, and I took the chicken part of one recipe, added the homemade salsa from another, and made the best tacos we've had in a long time.

I DID ALL OF THIS WITHIN A WEEK.

Prior to the big "P" entering my life, one healthy, completely homemade and found all on my own recipe would typically be enough for me to pat myself on the back for a couple of months. I'm thinking that now it may just be possible for me to finally get it together in order to benefit my whole family, and that would be awesome.

So this is a shout out to Ben Silbermann to say thanks. You've provided me with an easy and fun method for compartmentalizing areas of my life in a way that allows me to take baby steps, exchange great ideas, meet and follow so many amazing mom-athletes, and be excited about believing in possibilities.

Epiphany

I had an epiphany last night. Yep. One day early you could say. After going for a short two-mile run with a few friends from work, I came home and nearly passed out on the floor putting my son to sleep. It was my night to go to the gym, but I was tired and feeling lazy, and it was cold outside, and I didn't want to change into gym clothes. Instead, I told my husband that I wanted to set up the new trainer that Santa brought and give it a try.

It took us a bit to get the thing figured out, which doesn't say much about us given that there isn't a whole lot to the thing. Once we did though, I turned up my ipod volume and started to pedal.

I bought a cyclocross as a way of getting the best of what I consider both worlds without having to buy two expensive bikes. The tires are thicker and have more tread than road bikes do, so while I can travel much faster than on a mountain bike or hybrid, I can also veer off the pavement without worry. In the small, sprint triathlons that I've done so far, I've received just a bit of heckling for not replacing them to boost my mph, but really the distances that I've been doing are still so short that even a couple of mph wouldn't make a tremendous difference. In any event, I haven't changed them.

The trainer works by holding the rear bike wheel while it rotates and passes over a small cylinder for friction.

The more friction though, the more sound that is produced. Justin compared the noise coming from our basement to hornets fighting.

I may need to change the tires. They'll wear down quickly now anyway. There is a part of me though that likes the chunkiness of them. Last weekend at the 5K in Manassas, there was a man who ran in jeans, a plaid button up, a cowboy hat and steel toed work boots. He did pretty well. I don't mean to say that I want to be that guy, but I do sort of feel like some things are necessary (a bike) and some things probably aren't (a super expensive amazing tri bike) for a girl like me. Justin and I have promised each other to register for an international distance tri this year. If we can manage the distances, what's another five minutes in the grand scheme of things? I hardly see either one of us up on the podium when it is all over!

So... as I said, I started to pedal, I cranked up my music, and by the end of the second song, my quads were heating up and telling me that they would be sore in the future. THIS was my epiphany. In the past couple of months, I've been getting slower and slower in my running without really knowing why. Since I was more confident in my swimming and biking, I chose to focus more time on my running. I didn't consciously decide to stop biking, but I did. Why is it getting harder for me to run and am I getting slower?! Well, I'm not 100% sure, but I would imagine that it has something to do with the fact that I'm not strengthening my legs on my bike.

There is nothing like thinking to yourself on a stationary bike in your basement, "I am a total idiot."

After a few more songs, I guess I started to sing along here and there. Justin later told me that he all of a sudden heard what sounded like a little girl talking amongst the fighting hornets. After a few more songs, I used whatever air was left over to belt out my tunes. His remark? There were hornets fighting and then came a woman who had found her roar.

Weird. Possibly true... I dunno. Thankfully I didn't have to listen to all that racket.

After an hour on my bike, I was totally sweaty and gross and was really, really thankful for Santa's gift.