Victories and failures

When summer started, this is NOT how I anticipated that I would be spending the symbolic last day of summer.  Today was the 18.12 Challenge and I knew that I would run the half marathon as I did last year or I even had the fantasy that I might be able to run the 18 miles.

But it was not meant to be.

Last night I kept thinking that this was not the script – I should be getting out my running clothes and being all nervous. 

And when I woke up this morning to pee at 7:15, I was thinking that I should have been about 2 miles into a race, not heading back to bed.

I didn’t get up until late and was restless and pouty thinking about all the great racers out there running.  It was not a great morning weather wise and started pouring just as I was thinking about getting ready to head out to try to run.

So I got dressed, headed down to the basement and turned on the treadmill.  The belt decided to start slipping and after almost falling twice, I turned it off.

Normally this would have been an excuse to have a meltdown or head upstairs to eat and feel sorry for myself.

But remember, I am working on being THE NEW AND IMPROVED JEN.  So I calmly hopped of the treadmill, plugged in the elliptical and started going.

Marc came down and I told him I wasn’t using the treadmill because of the belt issue.  Now I know he just wanted to get to his workout, but because he is the best husband ever, he instead worked on getting the belt tight.  He finished just as I was at 30 minutes in on the elliptical.

So I moved over to the tready and set it pretty slow.  And then I ran 7 miles.  My piriformis muscle felt quite tight, but not painful. And as I was running I was thinking about how this was just one race.  Maybe I can run it next year and maybe not. 

But either way, not being healthy enough to run in today’s race is disappointing, but it’s not a tragedy.

For this chick, coming to that mindset is a victory, even within a failure. 

So August will not end the way I planned, but it’s all going to be okay.

 

Body composition.

Have you guys seen this phrase lately?  I’ve seen it all over.  There is a backlash against these super skinny models and actresses and women everywhere seem to be embracing muscles and strength.

As you guys know, since I started this journey I have done both weight lifting and cardio.  I’ve never been what I think of  as “skinny”.  However, at my lowest weight, while I had muscles, I think I could maybe be defined as lean?

Now I have gained weight.  How much – well, I’ll know soon enough – 1 week from today.

I also know that not all of that weight is fat.  I have definitely gained some muscle.  Since I haven't been able to run as much, I’ve noticed that I can lift heavier and faster. 

My back has more defined muscles.  And just yesterday I went and lifted one of those huge spring water jugs from the floor and popped it on the machine easily while a co-worker watched in shock.

The runner in me definitely does not like this extra weight.  It is hard to tell how much is from the extra weight and how much is from the injury, but my times are are suffering and running feels more like an effort – even when there is little pain.

But the weight lifter side of me notices that lifting and squatting and all those things are SO much easier.  Wednesday I did legs and back.  I did 10 sets of 20 kettlebell swings!  Kettlebell swings are HARD and are normally a killer.  I certainly won’t say it was easy, but it was definitely less hard. 

But I look – thicker.  I know there are some women who like that thicker, more muscular look.  I’m not sure that I do.  And if I can heal and get back into running, I would probably get more lean again – which would mean sacrificing strength and losing some muscle.

What are your thoughts on STRONG versus LEAN?

Breaking the rules….

I normally dread Labor Day.  No matter what the weather is like, it always marks the end of summer to me and my inevitable slide into depression as the weather gets colder and days get shorter.

But this August I feel that I've been struggling so much physically and mentally that I'm almost glad to see it go.

So I'm breaking the rules this weekend.  You know how I'm always lecturing about starting NOW and not waiting until tomorrow?  Well, fuck that.

I'm going to do whatever this weekend.  And then Tuesday?  A new start.

I'm not just solely talking about losing weight or watching what I eat.  It's going to be a new start mentally as well.  I don't HAVE TO run 4 days a week.  I don't HAVE TO win the Run for Recovery.  I don't HAVE TO lose 10 pounds.  I don't need any of things to make me a worthwhile person.

I have some changes that I would really like to make.  I would like to lose some weight and heal up and be my best.  BUT I want - first and foremost - to be HAPPY.  My friend and I were just talking about how we both define ourselves by our FAULTS rather then our strengths.

What's the deal with that?

So who else out there reading has also been struggling?  Can you - will you - join me for a new start on Tuesday?  I hope you will.  And I hope that I can maintain this resolve!!

The seat of your pants life…

I have a friend, Tabatha, who I greatly admire.  She is extremely flexible and is able to go with the flow. So when something unexpected pops up, she just rolls with it.  If that means totally breaking her plans and changing mid-course, she just does it.

I am not that person.

So in my life when something unexpected happen - even something good - it gets me totally thrown off.  Such was the case with winning the concert tickets.  Marc doesn't help because he is very rigid and as set in his routine as I am.

So as we sat there in the grandstand Monday, I started experiencing anxiety.  The opening act was Big Smo.  I had never heard of him before.  He sang the same kind of music as Kid Rock - sort of redneck rap/rock.  He was actually really good but, of course, I didn't know any of his songs, so I wasn’t singing along.

He was done with his set at 8:15.  As they started breaking down his stuff and installing Kid Rock's, I started thinking about going to work the next day and all I had to do and how I would be sleep deprived.  It took them a while to set up and so by the time Kid Rock came out, and everyone else was going crazy, I was all nervous and hyped and almost ready to leave!

I then got SO pissed at myself!  Here I had won this cool prize and I wasn't able to enjoy it because of my total inflexibility!  I actually said - out loud while the music blared – you need to fucking stop!

And then the miracle happened and I did!  I turned my head off for once and leaned back and enjoyed the show!  Kid Rock is a true entertainer and - to my surprise, honestly, that boy can SING!  Not to mention he can play the instruments.  It didn't turn me into an instant fan, but it was a great time.  I actually surrendered to the experience.

I'm never going to live the rock star lifestyle.  And my nature will never change.  But I want to be more spontaneous, more flexible, because I think this is a more mentally healthy way to live.

So a great time overall.  We returned to the wrong parking lot and for a while - a long while actually - we thought that the night was going to end in disaster as we thought the SUV had been stolen.  But fortunately we are just idiots and we located Dexter in the correct lot and he got us home safe and sound.

And yes, I came to work Tuesday on about 4 hours sleep and guess what?  The world didn't end!

Oh! And this was a coincidence!  Marc and I have only been to one concert at the fair - way back in 1991 we saw Damn Yankees and Bad Company.  Of course Ted Nugent was part of Damn Yankees and sang Cat Scratch Fever during the concert.  Guess what?  During Kid Rock's concert he also sang part of that song!  Kinda weird!!

Facing reality….

So I promised you guys I would talk about the concert.  I wrote the whole post and then misplaced my tablet.  Pretty sure I know where it is and rather then re-write the whole thing I’ll write about something else today and post the concert report tomorrow.

How about some more whining?  That’s always fun, right?

I think I have to face reality.  Today I was in almost UNBEARABLE pain all morning.  Pretty sure I have Piriformis Syndrome.  I was planning on running during lunch, but the amount of pain I was in – forget it.

But I did walk.  And as I was walking I realized that I am coming to the grim admission that I might have to take an extended break from running.  That thought terrifies me.

The rest of the walk meant some self-talk.  About when to take a break and what else I can do to maintain my fitness and sanity.  The Run for Recovery is September 6th.  I will run that if it kills me.  But after that?

I came back to the office and made an appointment with the local orthopedic group.  I didn’t know this but Marc recently told me that they have a sports medicine specialist!  That appointment is September 23rd so it is a little while out, but having the appointment at least gives me something to look forward to in a way.

I’ve just been running and hoping this problem goes away magically – enough denial. 

Now if I could only get the courage to put my fat ass on the scale and face that reality!!!

FRY me a river…

Yesterday we went to the NYS Fair and the Kid Rock concert.  As I told you guys it was the "Party Like a Rockstar" sweepstakes that I won.

We wandered the fair looking at all there was to see.  The food there? OH.MY.GAWD.  It was standard fair food - with fried stuff galore!  Of course there was the standard fried dough and Belgian waffles.  But they had fried OREOS at dozens of places.  And fried broccoli and cauliflower and cheesecake on a stick and chocolate covered bacon on a stick and French fries SLATHERED in gooey cheese!

It was Fat Jen' WET DREAM.  The smell – oh so good!!

I would like to tell you that I was so strong that I had no desire to eat those foods.  But that would be a lie.  I DIDN'T eat anything like that, but that was only because my cheapness won over my gluttony.  $8 for fried dough?  I think not!

Oh well, take the victories no matter how they come, right?

The contest was sponsored by the local radio station and - wait for it - LABATT!  Ironic, right?  So one of the marketing reps met us at the fair.  He bought us dinner.  I went for the 1/2 rack of ribs from Syracuse's famous Dinosaur Barbeque.  It came with a side of baked beans and coleslaw.  Probably not the best choice, but not the worst choice, either.

As the grand prize winner, he spoiled us rotten - giving us all kinds of swag, buying us concert t-shirts and giving me a gift card.  He and I also went on this insane slingshot ride where we were flung in the area on these bungee cords.  It was nuts and I did scream like the girl I am!!

The last time I went on a ride like this, I was still fat and they had to WEDGE me in.  It was humiliating. No such problem this time and the guy had to really pull to tighten the straps down.

In what I saw as a victory of sorts, I reviewed the photos that he took of Marc and I and I actually don't think I look terrible.  I didn't see huge amounts of fat dripping off me.  Will wonders never cease?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And I have to be honest - I felt terribly greedy allowing this guy to buy all this stuff for us, but he kept saying that he has an expense account and that as the winner I should take advantage of it - it was pretty awesome but uncomfortable at the same time...

So tomorrow I'll talk more about the concert itself!!

American Bad Ass…

Today I feel anything BUT a bad ass.  I had a terrible “long" run this morning – making it only around 8.5 miles.  And my time was horrible.

Next week is the 1812 Challenge and not only will I NOT be running the 18.12 miles like I thought I might earlier this year, I won’t even be running a competitive time in the half marathon.  Instead I’ll be sitting home on my BIG FAT ASS thinking about all the other runners out there.

Yeah, I don’t think that will be a good day.

On the other hand, I have been diligently icing and stretching.  I’ve done yoga and that really makes the stupid leg feel good.  But I am discouraged. 

Now for some fun news.  Some time in early July I was walking during my lunch hour and listening to a local rock station.  They said to text in and you could win a prize pack.

Well guess what?  I was the grand prize winner.  I got a shitload of rock CD’s and – tickets to see Kid Rock at the New York State Fair!

So tomorrow I will be leaving work early and Marc and I will head down to have a hopefully fun day at the fair and then attend the Kid Rock concert!

Hopefully I will get out of my head and just have a fun day!

 

Surrender

An arbitrary weigh in date…

September 6 is the date of my next scheduled race.  It is also when I have decided I will bite the bullet and weigh in.  I am going to avoid the scale until then - the numbers always make me feel worse and I get more dramatic.  At least the not knowing lets me have a little denial!

I've been plugging along this week.  I've run 3 times and while there is still pain, it's pain I can run through.  My times have been shit - probably caused by both the injuries and weight gain.  So my ego is bruised but I can survive that.

Eating decently - lately my weekend upping of calories has creeping into Friday, so this morning I threw a new healthy chicken recipe in the crock pot to squash any bad temptations I might have when I get home!

I'm also trying to get organized and get some projects finished as anxiety drives eating with me!  I finished a baby afghan for a pregnant friend.

 

 

 

 

So I guess I would say that for now I'm down but not out!!

Sure I will…

You'll be okay
You'll be okay
The sun will rise
To better days

And change will come
It's on it's way
Just close your eyes
And let it rain
~ A Great Big World ~

 

I want to believe this, but I’m struggling right now.  I’ve been avoiding the scale like stepping on it would suddenly make me explode into a million pieces.

I don’t want to know the harsh reality.  I don’t want to see the number staring back at me telling me that I am a pathetic failure.

My skirt tightness told me that this morning.  But it’s not as cold as the number.

I have said here that when I started this journey I didn’t think about how much I had to lose because the number would have been so overwhelming.

And as I sit here guessing that I’m 10-15 pounds up – that number seems so daunting – so paralyzing – that I just can’t bear it.

I know what the real issue is – my friend Jessie and I were discussing it yesterday.  She and I are in the same boat.  We both want to do what we want to do without consequences.

I’m trying to get back to basics.  To taking it one day at a time.  Just worry about eating right today and the rest will take care of itself I tell myself.  But those words aren’t working right now.

 

You can’t get rid of me that easily!

Not too long after the “incident” with Tony the Rooster, one of our Sussex hens came up missing.

We thought that she had been gotten by a predator – we hadn’t gotten our new rooster yet and we thought she was dinner for a raccoon or fox.

But then we got our new rooster and while everyone was locked in so he could imprint on the coop, Marc thought he saw a Sussex wandering around.

So we wondered if she had gone broody, but looking all over we didn’t see a nest.

Then we went out of town for a couple of days and came back to her leading 10 tiny black chicks around!

They are cute little buggers for sure!  We have never had black chicks before!

Mama hen was doing a great job of hiding them at night but she was taking them around the yard during the day and we were afraid that this made the babies too vulnerable. 

So we caught them yesterday – mama hen was extremely upset and VERY pissed.  Instinct is amazing.  But with a sturdy pair of gloves, Marc captured her as well.  The baby chicks don’t need mama to survive like us mammals, but we decided to keep them together for a while.

All have been safely relocated to our basement. 

 

 

 

 

Mama sits on her babies and it actually sounds like she is PURRING!  Here one baby is poked out as the rest are under her.

 

 

 

 

 

So Tony’s legacy lives on.  We’ll have to see how many turn out as hens and how many are roosters. 

Care to place bets??

The 3 R’s…

You know how in school they taught the 3 r’s – Reading, wRiting and ‘Rithmitic?  This weekend I had my own 3 R’s.  Relaxing, Reflecting and Rebooting.

To say I’m been having a rough time mentally as well as physically lately is an understatement.  Marc and I had planned months ago for this weekend to involve a trip down to his niece and nephew’s outside of Albany.  It worked out perfectly that this was the weekend we chose given that I couldn’t run and was in desperate need of some time to get my head together. 

We had a wonderful time.  It seems that people my age now are at the exact right age that they are – rightly so – totally involved in their children’s lives.  So talk of baseball games and back to school shopping and trips to the local waterpark dominate conversations.

I certainly want to listen to some of the stories, but I don’t have kids – and I don’t LIKE kids – so at some point my eyes start to glaze over.  Yes, I am a horrible person.

Marc’s niece and nephew don’t have kids either and they have a dog and a cat that are their pseudo-children, so they totally get it.

And for them – like for us – an afternoon hiking and then finding a large creek where we could watch the dogs play in the water – is ideal. 

We hiked a place called Vroman’s Nose  on Saturday and just enjoyed the day.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We spent the weekend with no agenda, no pressure and just doing what we felt like.  We chatted and hung out and watched movies.

And we ate.  I can’t even calculate the thousands of calories I consumed this weekend.  I feel guilty and I feel liberated.  I want to think that this was a send off of summer as it was our last big plans before September hits.  That at least is my rationalization.

I spent some time reflecting on where I am in my life, and what my goals are. 

We arrived home late yesterday and today starts my reboot.  In film a reboot is “something that is being re-started or revived”.   I now have even more weight to lose.  So I simply have to get back on track.  And I have gone 7 days without running and I’m going to try running this morning.  And if I have to walk some of it for any reason, I’m going to try not freak out and instead see it as a reboot – I’m starting over.

All my success started somewhere and if I did it once, I can do it again.  I’m not starting from scratch, but I am in the hole.  So here I go…

And I hope I succeed…

The sad death of a legend…

Last night as Marc and I were finishing dinner I turned on my tablet and read the horrifying news about Robin Williams' suicide.  Having had a bad day already, tears immediately started to flow.

Reading the story, I realized that as I sat in the Urgent Care waiting room in significant physical pain, here was this wonderful, talented man who - on the opposite coast - was in so much emotional pain that he was in some stage of killing himself.

How tragic and senseless!

I couldn't imagine.  Except I remember as a teenager there was a time when I thought about suicide – thought about it a lot actually.  I had a pretty good life! And I wasn't what you might think of as the "typical" fat girl in high school.  Yes, I was made fun of at times, but I was actually pretty popular.  I had lead roles in plays, was in chorus and band and several other clubs and had lots of friends.  But I also hated myself and felt life was meaningless and futile.

Fortunately I never made the irreversible choice to end it.

We'll never know why Robin Williams felt that this was his only option. And my heart aches for his family that also will never have the answers.

Nanu nanu, Robin - I bet you had no idea how truly loved you were by people all over the world.  I wish with all my heart that you had found another way to escape your demons.

-----------------------------------------------

P.S. In what has started out as a very bleak week for me, I did have a bright spot as I got to talk to my grandmother today and wished her a very HAPPY 88TH BIRTHDAY!

Biting the bullet…

OK, so before you read today's post, I want you to know that I know what an unreasonable completely insane drama queen I am being.  I totally and completely get it.

And there are people who are reading this - like my friend, Gayle - who are dealing with much more who will probably read this with disgust.

That being said, knowing this doesn’t change that I'm in complete panic and in full on self-pity, so bear with me or stop reading now, because I am going to go full tilt here!

After waking up at least 5 times overnight due to pain, I woke up this morning in excruciating pain in my leg and when I stepped out of bed my Achilles hurt so bad, too, which made walking the short distance to our bathroom a lurching agonizing adventure.  Then there came the labored process of getting the scale off the shelf and onto the floor.  Although I increased my calories some as I usually do on the weekend, according to the scale I must have eaten about 20,000 calories based on the number it showed.

I got to work and spent the morning in such extreme pain I could barely sit in the chair.  I managed to get quite a bit done, nonetheless, and then decided I had to go to urgent care.

After a ridiculously long wait, I finally saw the doc.  After examining me, he believes I have severely strained my hamstring.  On the other side, he thought - like I have for a year - that I have Achilles tendonitis, but based on some inconsistent "field tests" did 2 x-rays.

Guess what? It's not tendonitis!  I have a large bone spur that is aggravating everything around it causing the inflammation and pain.

He said to me "You're not going to like this but it is what it is - you MUST NOT RUN for 7-10 days, period." He also prescribed Naproxen - a large dose - to take twice a day no matter what and I'm under orders to ice both ailments.  He is optimistic that the hamstring will heal on that, but as far as the inflammation from the bone spur? It's a wait and see and if a week off doesn't work, I'll have to be referred to an ortho.

So yes, this is not the end of the world and I want to feel hope that a week off will make a difference.  But I feel discouraged and helpless and scared.  Oh, and, of course, FAT.

I took some Naproxen immediately which hasn’t touched the pain.  At least I made it home before bursting into tears!

Long run interrupted…

Such is my life – a couple steps forward and then a GIGANTIC leap backwards.  There is no describing what a complete and total failure I feel like today.

I went to do my long run and my goal was to get 13 miles in.  HA!  Not quite.  I made it 9 measly fucking miles before I surrendered.

The 3 mile walk back was filled with anger, feeling sorry for myself and a whole bunch of name calling. 

It wasn’t too long ago that I thought I might be able to run the 1812 challenge – and now I can’t even run the fucking half-marathon.

I then spent the afternoon mired in self-pity alternating with self-hatred. 

So, yeah, I am a JOY to be around right now – I’ll bet you wish you could hang with me, right?

Who gives a shit?

The other day in my e-mail box I got an e-mail from Fitocracy.  It was an article written by a man named Jason Helmes.

It hit home so hard that by the time I reached the end of the article I was in tears.  Here it is and I hope you’ll take the time to read it:

http://www.fitocracy.com/knowledge/the-six-pack-of-unhappiness/

Did you read it?  If you didn’t take the time, the main gist of the article is that for your “everyday” man and woman, no one gives a shit about the tiny things.  And getting to some nearly unattainable goal won’t make you happy if you haven’t changed internally.

I am sure that most people in my life are incredibly happy and proud of me for losing the weight that I did.  And they must be glad that I am no longer a ticking time bomb.

But as far as giving a shit whether I weigh 119 or 125?  Nope.  Do they stare at me and think “Woo – she had a little more definition there one year ago – what happened?”  I’m guessing not.

And here’s the thing – I care for the wrong reasons.  Which doesn’t remove my fear.  There is no moment where the heavens open up and suddenly I get it and find peace.  But each little insight bring me closer to what my real goal is – happiness and self-acceptance.

Come on baby say you love me!

123.4

That's the number that greeted me this morning.  It's funny how relative things are.  That number really would have upset me a while ago, but today it was a sight for sore eyes.

Moreso then just the number (although I won’t lie, the number was important) it’s concrete proof in my mind that what I’ve been doing has not been in vain.

The battle continues, but I've been reasonably happy with myself this week.  I've been eating well and it hasn't been a fight - I've actually felt good about eating right.

I am still frustrated with running.  I went out and ran today and everything hurts.  My Achilles on one side and what might be piriformis on the other as well as a touch of planters fasciitis!  For fuck's sake!  Ironically the only thing that doesn't bother me is what everyone worries about - my knees!

In other news, we got a new rooster today!  Hopefully he won't turn into an asshole like Tony!

Keeping the faith…

Who the heck was that person in 2011?  You know, the one who was incredibly patient with herself.  The one that understood that weight loss is not linear and doesn’t always make sense.  The one that was okay when the scale didn’t respond immediately to “good behavior”.

Because she is totally MIA right now!

I am holding steady at 125.  And while I’m trying to remain confident that being on plan eating and exercising wise will result in a drop there’s a part of me that just wants to say FUCK IT.

My co-worker was in my office telling me a story today and as part of the story she was talking about how they “always go for ice cream together.”  I swear, I missed about the next 5 minutes of her story because in my head I was like “ICE CREAM?  Why do you get to fucking eat ice cream?  How come you don’t get fat?  How come I even THINK about ice cream and gain 3 pounds?  NO FAIR NO FAIR NO FAIR!”

LOL

I’m such a pathetic loser.

I am doing really well this week.  Each night I have looked longingly at my peanut butter jars and sighed as I closed the cabinet door without even a taste.  I am working out, but also listening to my body.

I really want to get back down at least 5 pounds and sacrifice is what it will take.  And having faith.

Review: WENDY’S salad

When I started this journey there were a couple of things that became complete no-no's.  One of these things was fast food.  I have not had a burger or fries from a fast food joint in over 4 years.  I have only gotten coffee at McDonald's and got a salad from Wendy's 3 summers ago.  I occasionally get a salad from Subway.

But last week my lunch date canceled and I had not brought in anything for lunch.  As I walked during my lunch hour, I remembered Marc talking about Wendy's new salads and I decided to give it a shot.

As I walked into Wendy's that overpowering familiar greasy smell immediately made my stomach rumble.  And there was a huge cardboard pretzel bun staring me in the face.  Oh, glorious pretzel bun, how I wanted to try you!!!  But Thin Jen turned us towards the salads.

I ordered the Apple pecan chicken salad.  This come with pomegranate salad dressing, but, as you know, I don't eat salad dressing so without it, the salad comes in at a sweet 340 calories.

I got it to go and opened it once I was back at my desk.  The first thing I noticed was the generous size, complete with what appeared to be a lot of chicken.

The pecans came in a small separate baggie which I opened and dumped over the salad.

In addition to the chicken and pecans, the salad contained cranberries, apples, blue cheese and, of course, a lettuce mixture.

I dug in - wow! I did not think it would be this good!

The lettuce was wonderfully fresh and crunchy.  The apples tasted as if they were recently picked.  There were many more cranberries then I expected and they were sweet and tasty.  The roasted pecans were absolutely delicious.  And the blue cheese was exactly what you want it to be - creamy and with a slight tang to it!

There was a large portion of grilled chicken.  Like most of these salads, there was a slight "processed" taste to it, but the overall flavor was excellent, and it seemed to be real breast meat, free of any grizzle or other distasteful parts that these fast food choices can have.

Best of all, I found the salad filling and satisfying and I was content until dinner.

So overall, I was very impressed and happy with this salad and it's good to know that there is a tasty, healthy fast food choice!

Some sort of poetry…

I don't have the heart of a poet.  In fact, I don't get and don't like most poetry.  Robert Frost seems to be the exception.  His poetry speaks to me.  He is often misquoted, and one quote that is attributed to him is wrong, but it's close:

And this is where I am today.  As we all know, there are no magic spells, no miracle pills, and no quick answers.  That's what I reminded myself today as I once again faced the scale and got bitch-slapped.

I'm not going to tell you I wasn't discouraged, because I was.  But, in what is a minor victory, I didn't spend the next 2 hours hating and berating myself.

Instead, I had a healthy breakfast and lunch.  And when heading out to run there was no strict mandate as there typically is.  I gave myself permission to stop whenever I felt like it.  And I also gave myself permission to run slow without a need to be the speediest bitch on the block.

And it was so freeing!  I had a great run and guess what?  Even though I had permission to stop, I didn't want to.  I felt relaxed and calm.

Maybe because I'm going THROUGH instead of trying to go around.

And I know that if I continue this way, I'll be okay.  I just need to hold on to this zen feeling for a while...

Do you see what I see?

beau·ti·ful
ˈbyo͞otəfəl/
adjective

having beauty; possessing qualities that give great pleasure or satisfaction to see, hear, think about, etc.; delighting the senses or mind:
a beautiful dress; a beautiful speech.

 

There’s been a thing going around Facebook lately.  It’s stupid, like most of the things on Facebook, but, on the other hand, it’s “heart” is in the right place, unlike a lot of the crap you see.

Someone challenges you to post 5 pictures of yourself where you feel beautiful.  And when you post it, you also challenge your friends to post the same. 

So my friend Jessie posted her pics – and she IS beautiful BTW – and tagged me a couple of weeks ago.  I smirked when I read it and then thought about it.

I realized this.  I have never – NEVER –felt beautiful.  Not once in my life.  Let alone have a pic of myself where I feel beautiful!

Now let’s get something perfectly clear.  I’m not saying this because I want anyone to feel sorry for me.  I’m also not seeking compliments!!  And it’s not that I think I’m hideous.  I wasn’t horrifically ugly when I was fat and I’m certainly not now. 

But beautiful?  No way. 

And I was thinking about this late yesterday when I was looking at photographs from the race like these:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And the very first thought I had when I saw these was how I have huge bat wings.  And then I said to Marc that you can see my thigh muscles, but they’re covered up with so much loose skin it looks horrible.  And I also thought about how OLD I look.

I wonder what other people think when they are looking at these pictures.  Especially people who don’t know me or anything about me.  Do they see the massive imperfections that I see? 

Seeing this woman running in a tutu and coming in first – would they think that it was a confident woman there or would they know how much I doubt myself?

And I’m picking apart myself when I’m actually feeling pretty good about life today!  This isn’t me in a dark place trashing my looks – it’s even when I feel happy!

So I guess it’s no wonder that when I get into THOSE moods that I am soooooo hard on myself.

I think I need to realize that there’s never going to be a time when I’m completely satisfied with my looks and just be okay with that.

Race the Lake!

After a weird week, I woke up – freaking early BTW – for the 10K I was doing this morning.

This is my 3rd year running this race and it’s the last year they are holding it.  The last 2 years I was the 2nd fastest female, and I wanted first this year. 

In addition to the 10K run, there was 10K biking, so Marc was stoked. 

I was feeling much more confident entering this race – not confident that I would win, but confident that I would have a good run - unlike the race 2 weeks ago.  I had my magic tutu on, you know!

Anyway, we arrived early to almost ideal weather – low 70’s, hazy and only a very slight breeze.  Usually running along the lake brings a lot of wind, but not today.  It was pretty humid and warming up quickly, but that was a-ok with me.

As I stood in line at the port-a-potty I overheard a woman talking to a friend.  She looked to be in her 40’s and told the guy that she had reviewed last years times and was “pretty sure” she could take first.  “Damn!”  was my thought.  She also had a long grey-ish mullet. 

Marc and I stood ready to go and I wished him luck as they called the bikers to the line to head out first.

Then we racers lined up and I noticed it was a pretty small field.  BANG!  We were off.  Ms. Mullet passed me quickly.  As I always do, I tried to keep a slow pace and at mile 1 I came in at 8 minutes. 

At mile 1.5 I passed Ms. Mullet and wondered if she was going to save something to the end.  I saw 2 women ahead of me – a very pretty blond who was impossibly tanned and an extremely thin and fit looking woman in her 20’s.

We took a turn at mile 2 and I realized I was pushing myself too hard because I was already beat.  Mile 2 came in at 7:30.

But during that mile I had passed the blond.  Shortly after mile 3, I passed the other woman and knew I was in first.

Mile 3.5 is where we took the turn that allowed us to run along the point – the water was beautiful and glimmering today in the hazy sunshine and I realized I was actually enjoying this run – isn’t that the point??!!  And Barry Manilow came on my MP3 player to serenade me (I love me some Barry – no judgments please!!!)

Mile 5 started with a water station.  I usually don’t stop for water in these 10K’s, but it was getting hot, and I was pretty thirsty from pushing so hard, and plus my Achilles was screaming.  I debated if I should stop because this would allow people to catch up, but then I realized that if they had caught me, we still had over a mile to go, so they would pass me anyway, so I might as well take a quick break.  I gulped down the cold water and looked behind me.  I was shocked to see that there was not one person in sight!

So I took off again and the last 1.2 miles was a beautiful coasting run.  Marc had – obviously – finished and was there to take pics.  I was in better shape this time then 2 weeks ago at the end!

A pretty sweet run!

Final stats:

• 4th place overall – out of 52 racers.
• First place female
• Time = 48:13

We then headed down to where we enjoyed the spoils:

Marc finished in 3rd place so we both got awards.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

All in all, it was a pretty great day.  I did not weigh myself this morning and probably won’t tomorrow.  I wish I could say that I am beyond the point where the scale dictates how my day goes, but it isn’t true.

So I’m not going to let it bring down my happiness about today!!