Goodbye July!!

I bid goodbye to July in a weird place.  You know, in June 2010, having lost around 30 pounds and still weighing over 300 at that time, I don’t think I ever could have imagined the paths that this journey would take me! 

But yet, here I am. 

After a week that was somewhat tumultuous something happened today.  I was walking on my lunch hour and as I made my way through a fairly populated section, a clearly mentally handicapped man moved intentionally to block my path.

“Hi!!” he said and I responded and went to continue my walk. “You look really good in that dress!!” he said with a smile.  “Thanks!” I said and kept it moving chuckling to myself.

When I got home, I decided to take the dogs on another walk.  I started thinking about where I am in my life and what my goals are.

Since I feel like I am failing, a reasonable question seemed to be - what ARE my goals?

Well, I’d like to run pain free.  To do that, I think I have to cut down on my running and give my Achilles a rest.  And I have been decreasing my running.  So that makes me a failure, right?

Ok, my goal is to live a healthy and happy life and not die an early death like my dad.  According to my last check up, I’m doing what I can to stay in good health and my numbers are good.  So I’m not failing there.

Ok, so I hate the way my body looks.  Well, no.  I mean, there’s definitely things that I would change.  Would I love to have a beautifully toned body with a 6 pack?  Not only is that really hard for women to achieve, I’m 42 years old.  And how would my life change dramatically for the better if I had that body?

It wouldn’t improve my career.  It wouldn’t make me rich.  It wouldn’t get Marc to love me more. 

So is that how I’m failing?

I have decided that the “right” number for me to weight is 116-119.  And today I weighed in at 125.3. 

OH!! So THAT’S where I’m failing!!

So apparently my goal is to make sure I am defined by a NUMBER and if I’m not that number I am an utter loser.

Makes total sense, right?

Talking from my heart…

There are no words to describe how appreciative I am for the support that I receive from you guys.  At times it is baffling and always humbling when I receive comments and/or emails full of love and support.

So I'd like to offer a sincere thank you from the bottom of my heart.

I am truly trying to keep everything in perspective and not allow the "fuck its" to take over.

I have made some good choices in the last couple of days and that is a good thing.

2 years – sorta…

It was 2 years ago today when I hit my goal weight of 119.  And last year I was flying high on life with a lovely 117.

Oh how times have changed.  I resolutely got on the scale this morning and watched as the numbers popped up with a sense of numb helplessness.

125.8.  That puts me 6 pounds heavier then goal and over 8 pounds heavier then where I was last year.  So my failure to be a maintainer is official.

I feel like I've let down everyone - from myself, to family, to everyone who reads this blog.

I've vacillated today between THIS IS THE END to this is not that big of a deal to everything in between.  Which is right?  I don't know.

I'm trying to put things in perspective.  I need to get back on track and drop a few pounds, PERIOD.  On the other hand - my clothes still fit, my BMI is well within healthy range, I have still come tremendously far and for fuck's sake I even won a 10k a week ago - beating women 15 years younger then me.

A cloudy and grey Monday…

Today dawned with weather to match my mood - shitty.  It's cool and rainy and miserable.

Saturday we hosted Marc's family as we do every year for his dad's b-day.  And actually it was a wonderful day until Tony the rooster decided to attack our 4 year old nephew - knocking him completely down and scratching his face and neck.  So that's the end of him, unfortunately.

Yesterday, I felt run down and was having a major pity party for myself.  I had so much I could have - SHOULD HAVE - been doing.  I managed some running on the treadmill but it was a truly pathetic effort.  And then I sat outside on my big fat ass getting nothing accomplished.

How have I fallen so far, so hard?

And more importantly, how do I find my way back?

Saturday we have a race.  I will be running the 10K and Marc will be racing on his bike.  I have done this race twice before and as I looked in my racing scrapbook yesterday and saw myself in pictures at last year's race - smiling and holding a medal for 2nd place - I felt like I didn't even know that woman looking back at me.

It's more then the weight gain.  It's weight gain and pain and just feeling dissatisfied and lost.  When I took the dogs for a 4 mile walk along a trail yesterday I had a lot of time to think.  About tomorrow's significance and my failures.  I recognize how overly dramatic I am making things, but I can't help how I feel.

What I plan to do is take this week to start to regroup.  Then after the race I need to figure out where I stand on my running and weight and life in general.

Please bear with me - especially when I lose my shit tomorrow when the scale delivers the news of my inability to maintain my weight loss...

Happy Birthday Archer!!

Today is Archer's 4th birthday!

After we lost our Shepherd, B'Elanna in 2010 we wanted a new puppy.  We looked at various breeds - Marc really likes dogs from the herding category.  So we were really focused on getting an Australian Shepherd.  We researched reputable breeders and met one right before the dog was due to have her puppies.

I was excited but knew in my heart I wanted another Boxer.  And when I heard about a reputable breeder a couple hours from us whose girl just gave birth to 11 puppies, I actually teared up.

Marc told me that he wanted me to get a puppy that would make me the happiest.  So I contacted this breeder and all puppies were spoken for except for 2 white boys and a white girl.

I knew very little about white boxers - whites in the Boxer world can't enter the show ring and reputable breeders are forbidden from breeding them. Even more horribly, in up to very recent history, white Boxers were actually killed after they were born!  But white Boxers are identical to colored ones - except they are more prone to getting sunburned!

The breeder sent me some pics.  Here is "#10" at one day old:

We made arrangements to meet the breeder and the puppies who were at that time 5 weeks old.   We made the trip just tobsee the puppies - with no intention of making a decision.  But it was love at first sight.

#10 as he was called at the time was the husband's favorite pup - but since the breeders wanted to keep a puppy they could later show - they didn't have room to keep him.

So we were under extra scruntinty to be "worthy"!  Fortunately we passed muster and #10 became Archer - after Captain Jonathan Archer in the Star Trek world.

We waited anxiously for him to be old enough to come home.  And then in late September we went and got him.  Chaskotay loved him immediately and literally the night we brought him home they curled up happily together and slept.

Archer is probably the most headstrong and defiant dog we have owned.  He is also incredibly sweet and loving and scarily in tune with our feelings.

He is a wild boy and makes a great running buddy!  He gets along with our cats, loves meeting children, and knows exactly how much he can get away with.

And we love him with all our hearts!!

What is that I see?

I am slogging along.  I would like to tell you that I have been 100% on plan this week, but that would be a lie.  I was ravenously hungry when I got home from work yesterday for some reason which led to unscrewing the cap on the peanut butter jar and....sigh...

I can't really continue to bitch and feel sorry for myself about my weight if I keep sabotaging myself, can I?

My exercise routines have continued to be screwed up. I am totally off the wagon running wise and I've been feeling so lost.

I have been staring in the mirror obsessively certain that I have massive amounts of fat dripping off me.  It's pathetic.  It's so in my head that last night I went to bed and went to lay on my stomach and reflexively reached down to adjust my stomach fat.  I haven't done that in a looonnggg time.

My 2 year date looms large in my mind - it screams failure.

And then some minor glimpses of hope.   Last night I went home and worked my legs - HARD.

I HATE lunges and squats and haven't done a leg routine in what feels like forever.  And about 10 minutes in, I was like "OK, enough!". But I carried on and by 30 minutes in I was - as the saying goes - embracing the suck.  I was sweating and hating it but also riding the wave.

And when I got up this morning and my quads and hamstrings ached, it felt so good to feel soreness from a good workout as opposed to PAIN which seems to be a steady companion after every run...

I had my running clothes with me today.  And when I got invited to an NA meeting for the lunch hour - where they were celebrating someone's one year clean date and I knew there would be CAKE - Fat Jen almost had us sprinting out the door.  But the part of me that is still Thin Jen dragged us reluctantly to the bathroom to change.

Will wonders never cease? It wasn't pretty or fast, but mentally it was the best run I have had in weeks.  I felt reasonably strong with very little self-doubt. 

I am far from where I want to be or where I was last year both physically and mentally.  But since I've been feeling like throwing in the towel, I am going to look at today as a small, but tasty victory.

The head versus the heart

I climbed on the scale this morning and saw the same heart breaking number that I saw last Friday when I stood on it.

124.9

There, I admitted it.

I hung my head in shame and discouragement.  And I was thinking about how next week is my 2 year date from hitting goal and having gained weight officially makes me a maintenance failure.

A memory then popped into my head from nowhere.  I have an incredibly bad memory.  So how and why I would remember this?

My brother was home from college and I had been going over and walking on a local nature trail in the morning for a few mornings and he asked me to wake him up as he wanted to go over with me.  I was probably around 21. 

So the next morning we went over and he asked if I minded if he ran – he was always thin and fit.  I told him no and he ran off while I walked. 

And I can clearly remember walking and thinking that THIS WAS IT.  This was the day my life changed.  Starting TODAY I would exercise and eat right and I would become thin and fit.

I pep-talked myself in my head and tried to convince myself that I could really do it this time!

I don’t remember much more, but I’m guessing that resolve lasted until maybe lunch that day.

That made me think about my life now and how, if at age 21, a magic fairy had dropped out of the sky and waved her wand and made me instantly 125 pounds and I had been able to run that 4 mile trail with my brother?

I probably would have dropped to my knees and sobbed out of happiness.

I know INTELLECTUALLY that I am not a failure and that this is not the end of the world.  But I sit here contemplating that I am 5 pounds heavier then when I hit maintenance and almost 8 pounds heavier then I was last year at this time and EMOTIONALLY I feel like a complete and utter fat, repulsive, failure.

Even thinking about coming in first in the race on Sunday?  I feel like my performance was simply not good enough.

I want to get my emotional side to listen to my intellectual side, but I don’t know how.  And when I get on that scale tomorrow, I will be crushed once again…

Continuing to reflect...

Race reflections…

Some interesting events at yesterday's race.  I garnered a lot of attention and comments about my tutu.

The best one came from a little girl who walked by me and I heard her say to her mother "Why don't I have a tutu to run in??!!" Pretty funny!

After the race 2 people who I didn't know asked if they could have their pics taken with me.  I'm guessing it was the tutu - maybe along with coming in first.  But it was a bit weird for me.

I also saw the trophy with years and years worth of winners of this race engraved on it - my name is there now (currently spelled wrong - supposedly will be getting fixed).  And it will be there again for this year's race.  I should be proud of this, right?

A few people came up and chatted with me and talked about others races where they had seen me.  Since I am so utterly non-observant I didn't recognize most of them.  There were compliments about my speed and fitness.

The interesting thing is that no one - from the ones who wanted a pic with me to the other runners - they don't know my "story".  They see me at face value so to speak.

As I reflected last night I wondered what their reaction would be if they knew how crappy I felt during the race.  How I feel so fat and my self-doubt.  How - even with coming in first - I am disappointed in my performance.  I'm guessing they would be surprised.

I put on a good mask.

BUT - I woke up this morning feeling a little more peaceful.  And even though Monday is not a run day, I decided to run at lunch.  Slowly.  Without expectations or judgments on myself.  And I felt good.  I won't blow smoke up your asses and tell you that I felt wonderful, with no pain and that fairies flew out of my ass and 5 pounds fell off me.  No, not quite.

And I am back to avoiding the scale for a few days.  Why ruin hope with a cold hard dose of reality, right?

A mixed bag…

Today was the Tibbett’s Point 10K.  I got first place for women 1 year ago, but a year ago feels like FOREVER ago.

 

Reading back on my notes from that race, I had overindulged on vacation, but my weight had since come down, my spirits were high and my running was on point.

 

What a difference a year makes.

 

I’ve been anticipating this race with a feeling that could be described as dread.  My running has been so bad, that I was afraid I wouldn’t even finish.

 

I put wayyyyy too much importance on this race.  All day yesterday I was thinking about it with anxiety.  I had myself convinced that this race would practically define the rest of my life.

 

If I had a good run everything would be okay.  I would get back on track eating wise and get my weight down and I would be able to run.  If I had a terrible run – well, then it was all over.

 

So I arrived at the race location not wanting to run at all.

 

And the first mile I felt FEAR.  And by the turnaround for the 5K racers?  I wanted to and thought I would quit.

 

But I didn’t.

 

It was not a great run.  I felt sluggish.  BUT the Achilles didn’t bother me hardly at all.  My stupid new sneakers – the one kept coming untied and I stopped 4 GODDAMN times to tie it.  And I was TOAST by the end.  If there hadn’t been a cheering crowd I might have walked over the finish line but my pride prevented that.

Results?  I came in first again for women.  With a time of 47:58.  My scrapbook tells me I was in at 47:33 last year so – taking into account my sneaker incidents?  Pretty close…

 

So the good news is that I think what is going on is mostly in my head.  The bad news is – something is going on in my head!

 

So it is a mixed bag.  Some good and some bad. 

Crossing the finish line – I was DONE.

The 10K male winner – a BLISTERING finish time of 34:28!

 

He is HAWTTTT!

 

 

 

 

So what now?  I want to share a little more about this race and some stuff that happened and will tomorrow.

Facing reality…

Like a condemned prisoner stepping up to the gallows.  That was how I approached the scale today.  I hadn't weighed in all week because I knew the news would be horrible.

And it was.

It's not like KNOWING the number made me fatter.  I was already fatter - the scale just puts a number definition on it.

And without that number I had an ability to live - a little bit - in denial.  And denial can be wonderful.

So what now?  I'm ashamed and discouraged and feeling like a failure.  It's being overly dramatic, I know.  I mean look how much weight I lost to get here - so I CAN lose again.  To be frank I just don't want to put the effort into it.

I want to have my cake and eat it, too.  Proverbially and literally!

Runner’s World Contest

Hey everyone!  I have entered a contest on Runner’s World to get placed on their cover.

If you are so inclined, you can click on this link:

http://covercontest.runnersworld.com/entry/1234/9078djdicbs7uphup5jf3eaja4

and vote for me.

I’m not sure that I deserve to be featured, but I decided to go ahead and enter and let the chips fall where they may!

Thanks in advance my friends!

Oh Tony….

Last year we had a small Bantam Rooster.  He was a tiny but sweet little rooster, and the hens bossed him around like crazy.  He was no match for the foxes when they came and he was killed along with most of the hens.

So when we were getting a new rooster, we wanted a bigger guy and when we went to the farm that was giving away roosters and they told us to take our pick, we saw a very young Jersey Giant.  So we took him and named him "Tony" - JERSEY Giant, get it?  Yeah, we are CLEVER!

And he has grown to be a big beautiful rooster.  He takes his "job" of protecting the hens VERY seriously.  This includes the babies we bought in the spring.  We were outside one day and the new girls were pacing back and forth afraid to walk by Chakotay and Archer who were lounging in their path.  So Tony runs over and positions himself between the hens and the dogs and puffs out his chest allowing the girls safe passage.

He is big and definitely has very little fear.  I don't know if he would be any match for a fox or other predator, but I am supremely confident that he would put up one hell of a fight!

So that's what makes the following so frustrating.  He has attacked both Marc and I twice.  The first time was last fall when he ran at Marc and tried to get him with his spurs.  I chalked that up to a teenage type behavior that was an anomaly.

But a couple months ago I was walking in the house and got slammed in my legs from behind.  I was confused and then realized that Tony had attacked me.  I ran at him in a threatening way knowing full well that he would turn and run.  WRONG!  He launched himself in the air and came flying at me.  I kicked at him a little and he went down, got a running start and launched himself at me again.  So I fucking kicked him.  And when he landed, he gathered himself and really came after me.  That time I punted him hard and chased him.  He finally gave up and ran.

I was so shocked.  I told Marc that normally he would become rooster soup.  But he is SO good to the hens and 99% of the time is totally fine.  We can walk right up to him and he is as mild as can be.  We can even hand feed him without him showing an ounce of aggression.

But since then, he went after me once again (and immediately retreated) and right before vacation he attacked Marc out of nowhere and actually CUT HIM on the ankle with his spikes.  Marc kicked at him with his foot and his slipper came off so he grabbed the slipper and got in a few smacks with it and Tony hauled ass.

Marc has since cut off his spikes and we hope dear Tony has learned his lesson.  Because I don't want an animal around I can't trust!  He's lucky that he is such a wonderful "husband" to our hens or he would be a goner.  But if he attacks again....

Yuppers!

As a matter of fact, YES, that is what I want.

You see I have now been on plan for 2 whole freaking days.  Just 2.  And I feel like I deserve a medal. 

No, it’s not a MEDAL I want, it’s a loss of 5 pounds.

It’s only fair right?

I mean, I’ve been good for like 2 seconds and I deserve a reward for that.

Puh-leeze.

Frankly it’s starting to amaze me that I was able to lose even 10 pounds in the first place let alone 225 given my entitled and deranged thinking that I’m having!!

So that my friends, is just where I’m at. 

I am SO full – NOT!

When I first started losing weight I read that it takes approximately 20 minutes for your stomach to notify your brain that you are full.  So I started concentrating on eating slowly.

This was and is a huge challenge for me because I have always inhaled my food.  I'm not the only one - in my family we tend to eat extremely fast - even thin family members chow down quickly.

So now when I eat I actually watch the clock.  I chew my food much more and even take mini breaks during my meals.

And guess what - it really doesn't help that much. I'm still hungry after eating a full meal.

I've said a lot that my "hunger switch" is broken.  But as I lay in bed Saturday night feeling so full from having overeaten during the reunion I realized that I CAN feel full and not want to eat - but that my body does not respond to the cues in a normal amount of time.

No, you see, I had eaten so much that I believe I must have been full hours earlier. BUT I had no feeling of being full until like 8 at night.

I realized that this happens on occasions like Thanksgiving as well.  I don't feel that "stuffed" feeling until HOURS later.

I have read posts by people - usually binge eaters - who talk about feeling almost sick from eating so much and yet they continue to eat.  That's not the case with me.  The problem is that I just don't have any physical cues to stop in any sort of reasonable time.

There is still so much of the brain that we don't understand.  And I've told my clients that I believe some day we'll find "addiction" in the brain.  And once we pinpoint that we might be able to go a long way to curing addiction.  I wonder if some day we'll find the exact "hunger cue" in the brain as well and be able to fix it.

It's not an excuse for obesity, but I think that it explains a lot of how some people end up consuming so much more and getting fat. And it must be hard for people who have normal brains to understand how people can eat a ton of food and not feel full.

So this means that I – along with others who might have a broken switch – have to stop eating based on non-instinctive cues… Just another challenge we face.

One last hurrah!

Last year we had a reunion for my father’s side of the family at my house.  Yesterday, we had a reunion for the other side of the family and it was held at my uncle’s place.

What an awesome day and an awesome time!

I got to spend time with my relatives that I am close to but don’t see enough as well as meeting/seeing relatives that I have either never met or haven’t seen in years.  It was interesting to meet my mother’s first cousins that she spent a lot of time with as a kid but then went their separate ways.

It was fantastic to have a totally laid back and fun time.  There were no miserable people unlike some times when these get-togethers happen with people that have very little in common other then a blood line.   

I spent some time with my grandmother:

And later in the day did a little horseback riding:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And the food??!!  Don’t even get me started!

All in all it was a great way to end my time off. 

I am crushed to see my vacation coming to an end – yes, I have been spoiled rotten the last couple weeks.

There is still a lot of summer to go, but tomorrow is the reset time.  Back to normal and healthy eating and hopefully getting those 5 or more pounds off.  I am also hoping to get back on track running wise.

According to my database in the 2 weeks that I was off, I traveled 99.9 miles.  Wow.  So I wasn’t exactly sitting on my ass, BUT I really feel that my running is completely off kilter.

I have a 10K race next weekend and I am actually nervous about it given how sucky my runs have been.  But all I can do is what I can do.  We’ll see…

Thin and fit and healthy…

No, I’m not talking about me!  I’m talking about my wonderful boy, Chakotay!

He turned 5 years old while we were on vacation. 

When I fit started to work on his weight, his measurements were 37 around the chest.  I measured today and it was down to 34.5.  That’s quite a bit!

And as I was looking at him, I was noticing how healthy his coat looked. 

What do you think – pretty good, right?

I think he has a ways to go, and of course, my vacation is nearing an end, so it won’t be possible for me to walk with him the miles that I have been covering like when we were camping and this week that I had off.

But I think that now that I’ve got him in a pretty good routine hopefully we can keep the weight off – off of him and off of me!

Taking it easy on myself…

As I mentioned, yesterday was a good day.  I stepped on the scale in the morning and it was 123.7.  Certainly not what my goal is, but just dropping down some was good.

I then decided I was going to run.  I put on my new kicks and headed out the door.  What a difference!!!  I know that my other sneaks were worn out – even though they only had about 350 miles on them, they are minimalist sneaks which wear out faster, plus I do almost all my running on pavement so that wears them out quicker.

I also realized on Monday night when Marc and I did yoga how stiff and tight everything was.  I didn’t being my foam roller when we went camping so I have been foam rolling the shit out of my legs.

So whether it was doing yoga on Monday and Tuesday or foam rolling or a couple of days of rest or new sneakers – the run was a success.

Now I’m not going to claim it was the best run of my life, but I did 8 miles with an average pace of 7:47 and mostly pain free and certainly not what I had been experiencing.  What a relief.  And my Achilles is hardly bothering me at all this morning.  All good things.

Then I was thinking about my weight and still being sort of down on myself and I said to myself that I really need to lose 5 pounds.  And then I thought – 5 pounds?  Not 55, not 105, but 5.  So after vacation I get to work and lose those or I don’t – it’s my choice.  But 5 pounds isn’t a disaster, right?

I wrote in a comment that I don’t think that anyone who has not been morbidly obese can understand the fear that comes with the thought that I could end up there again.  But the reality is that it is MY CHOICE.  I can choose to gain it back or I can choose to lose or choose to stay where I am, right?  A 5 pound gain does not equal a 225 pound gain.

Finally, I’m not sure if I told you guys that Marc entered me in a contest in May and I won a prize pack.  One of the prizes was a manicure.  I have never gotten a manicure, so I did that yesterday

I like the color and even though I can paint my own nails – which is why I’ve never had one – it was nice to have a little bit of pampering!

So I’m feeling pretty decent and that is a good thing.

What a difference Wednesdays…

If I had it in my head that Tuesdays sucked ass, then the last 2 Wednesdays offered some welcome redemption.

We decided to head back to Robert H. Treman because part of the vast Finger Lakes Trail runs through there.  I quite enjoyed that hike – it was much more trail like and through deep woods.  There were fallen trees that had to be stepped over.

 

 

 

 

However, Marc was not as impressed and was also getting bit up by mosquitos.  Plus he described the trail as “boring as fuck”.  So it worked out that we were able to make a small detour and rather then reverse course, we could take the same Rim Trail around the gorge and it would take us back to the parking lot that we had started in.

The climb back up provided one of the funniest moments of are trip – and I still can’t believe that a dog can process things like this.  Remember those 228 stairs in a row I told you about?

Well we were a little over halfway up them, and we rounded a corner and there lay a whole slew of steps in front of us.  Chakotay actually stopped and looked up at the stairs.  Then he turned his head and looked up at me and looked back at the stairs.  If he could talk I’m sure “Are you fucking kidding me??” might have come out of his mouth!!

For whatever reason I was feeling a lot better and was able to relax that night as Marc built a HUGE fire to use up our wood.  A sense of peace came over me.

I’m happy to say that the same thing happened this Wednesday.  I’ll share with you more about that in tomorrow’s post…

Terrible Tuesdays….

The last couple Tuesdays have not been my friend.  While camping, I had decided that Tuesday would be a day to just hang out by the campground. 

The weather was calling for possible strong thunderstorms in the afternoon and it was supposed to be oppressively hot and humid, so I thought we could just hang by the water and swim and play.

But, and this is SO SAD – I just cannot chill out it seems like.  You would think that I could just enjoy the day, but no!  I was all up in my head about how much I was eating and that I wasn’t running – it was PATHETIC, really.

And then Marc and I got into a minor argument and I was ready to just pack up and go home.

And then today I stepped on the scale and was HORRIFIED at the number.  Yes, my friends, I am a total maintenance FAILURE at this point.  It read 126.0. 

So we had decided to go to a local park and hike and swim.  We headed there and it was a great day – except every time there was silence I was thinking about that scale number like it was the end of the universe.  And then I would tell myself to stop with being a drama queen and then the argument would go on….

Then we get home to find that our mifi card – the only way to access the internet here in the rural area we are in is dead.  So, we have no internet access.

Tuesdays – they SUCK.

A painful return…

I thought I would take a break from my vacation stories to talk about coming back home.

I remember last year, after a week of indulging while camping that I had a TERRIBLE time getting back on track eating wise.  Fortunately that has not been the case this time.  I have returned to healthy, normal meals without indulgence.  I’m still on vacation, and I feel like I “deserve” a few more treats before this week ends, but for now I am content with a return to routine.

Coming back has seen a return of “Landscaper Jen”.  She is wonderful for getting my ass back into shape.  Thanks to last year having spent a week attacking my flower beds and some heavy mulching a couple of weeks ago, my beds are in great condition and needed very little work.  But I spent Friday getting all of them weeded and looking purty.

Saturday was a total work day.  The veggie garden is starting to sprout veggie plants, but also WEEDS!  I have been hoeing, but it hasn’t gotten all of them.  So for 3 hours I Saturday, I was on my hands and knees pounding out those little fuckers with a vengeance!  Is it weird that I feel like the weeds are there JUST to piss me off???

So there has been some good news – although I am still avoiding the scale and my belly and thighs look fat.  It’s not like knowing the number would change anything, but somehow it seems to keep me sane not knowing how far up I am!

But the main bad news is my running.  I have fallen off the wagon HARD.  Every time I go to run it is painful and exhausting.  I struggled through 8 miles on Friday and then I went to do my long run yesterday and again, made it only 8 horrific miles before giving up.  I don’t really pay attention to my heart rate when I run, but after getting home, I see that it was an average of 196 beats per minute!!  That is INSANE.

After getting home from that I quickly grabbed Archer and we did another 6 miles alternating between walking and running and that was okay, so I wasn’t consumed with guilt, but I’m not sure what the hell is going on that I’ve taken a gigantic step backwards!  It’s totally demoralizing.

My new kicks came in – my old ones are pretty worn and I’m hoping some new sneaks might help the leg soreness.   

I’m at a total loss at this point….

Hike and discussion…

On day 2, we traveled to Robert H. Treman State Park.  Since we’ve been camping in the same area we’ve never hit this park and boy, have we missed out.

This park had a WONDERFUL hike around a gorge – up and down one side and then up and down the other.  Even for us, it was a challenging hike – some very steep uphill climbs. 

One section had stairs carved next to rock walls.  I counted 228 steps.

On one of the really steep and long uphill climbs I noticed that I wasn’t breathing hard at all.  But my legs – mostly my quads – were on FIRE.  Marc on the other hand, was breathing pretty heavy, but he said that he felt absolutely no soreness in his legs at all.

That prompted a discussion about fitness and the different types of fitness and how certain events in our lives lead us to where we are. 

Marc had just recently been reading a lot on VO2 Max – it’s a measure of aerobic fitness – read up on it if you’re not familiar.  He had been using some of our run times to calculate our fitness using online calculators.  Of course, this is not precise, you can get it measured professionally.  But the calculators are fairly accurate and – no duh – MUCH cheaper!!

Anyway, he was surprised that his calculations put him in only the “average” range – while mine put me in the “excellent” category.  But we were talking about how he grew up on a farm – spending many hours in a haymow inhaling all that comes with that – including mold which never leaves your lungs.

BUT all those hours of working on the farm also made him strong in addition to years of being a bike rider – his legs are like steel.  Whereas my cardio seems to be really good but I’m nowhere near as strong.

It was an interesting discussion.

Anyway, the hike provided some beautiful views, like this waterfall:

 

There was also plenty of places for the dogs to cool off:

 

 

 

 

It was a fascinating hike offering lots of different environments – from woods to rocky areas to some forest like areas.

At the bottom of the first trail there was an awesome stone bridge:

We did another short hike that day, but ended up taking a wrong turn that led us back to the SUV, so we decided to call it a day and headed back to the campground. 

There, I attempted a run, which turned out to be a disaster and I made it only 3 miles. 

Falling off the wagon, running wise, continues through today.  I think I’ll talk more on that tomorrow.

Vacation–Day 1

I have to warn you that the next few days might turn into a “What I did on my summer vacation” blog.  So you might be bored!

I say day 1 – but for me, the reality is that I started letting it all hang out on Friday.  I was totally in vacation mode and slacked off food and exercise wise with a VENGANCE.

But Sunday was the day we left and traveled to our camp site.  I felt pretty relaxed and good that day.

As we always do we stopped at Montezuma Wildlife Refuge on the way down where I got some good pics:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We stopped for lunch in Seneca Falls:

then headed to the campground and got set up.

We then went for a walk – I felt less anxiety and urgency then in the past about getting in “required” exercise.

Day 1 was a victory of sorts in that respect.  It wouldn’t last though…

We were OWED!

Hi everyone!  Did you miss me and my posts?

We returned late yesterday from camping.  Last year we went to the same area and it was HORRIBLE weather.  Cold and down-pouring rain almost every day.

So we were owed a wonderful vacation and Mother Nature was kind enough to do her absolute best to deliver.

There was a little bit of rain a couple of times, but overall the weather was glorious.  It was in the 90’s every day and mostly sunny. 

I loved it, although Marc got a little sun-logged (if that’s a word) by late Wednesday.  I was also worried about Chakotay, but he did really well.

Most days we spent hiking but we actually took one day and just hung out by the beach near our campsite and relaxed. 

I’d like to say that I just had fun and didn’t worry about calories and exercise, but that would be a lie.

I got up into my head at times.  I also didn’t run at ALL except one day that I put in a measly 3 miles – turns out that running in 95 degree heat with 75% humidity is too much even for me!!

I ate way too much and am paying for it today as I look bloated and, frankly, FAT.  I have vowed to stay off the scale for a few days – I haven’t been on today – we’ll see how long my resolve lasts.

I will be reflecting more on this vacation in the next few days.  It was definitely different then the last couple years.

Today I am trying to get back on track – both with food and exercise.  Wish me luck!!