Monthly Archives: July 2012

always rest so you can do your best

I did my first long run yesterday. When I say long run, I mean over 6 miles. I’ve been doing 10k runs regularly which are just a hair of the 6 miles miles. So now that I have that down I’m doing bigger runs to see what my body feels like. I have no problem with the endurance at all. I owe that to hours and hours of cycle classes in which sometimes go for over and hour. When I am out running, I sometimes imagine myself on a bicycle in class, because there are moments there where I feel like I can go on forever.
So anyway, on to the yesterday’s run. I woke up, got ready, loaded-up my new fanny-pack-water-holster thing, packed 3 fig newtons (just in case I needed some carbs and sugar) and hit the road jogging. I did 8.7 miles in 1:50 mins. And I think I would have had a much better time if there weren’t any hills involved. I have not been doing any kind of hill training at all because my approaching half marathon is completely flat, but yesterday I picked a route with inclines just to see how they feel.
When it was all over, I felt totally great. Aside from having runner’s poop all was well. And to be clear, I made it home, sat a while then literally had to run to the bathroom where I’m pretty certain I lost 4 pounds in 30 second. Shit really does happen. But I digress.
My issues that followed weren’t apparent immediately. But later in the evening and even early this morning, I started putting things together.
The day before my run, I had worked all day, a nine our shift with just two 15 min breaks. I was under hydrated and under nourished all day. I tried to make up for it when I got home, but I already felt a full blown migraine coming on. Still, I drank a bunch of water that night and ate a good meal. But I had a beer with it. The headache remained so I went to bed early. I woke-up the next morning very early and started pounding the water. I had peanut butter on toast and a banana, and I felt ready. Tired, but ready.
When I was all done and back and showered I was still feeling the runner’s high and aside from sore feet was in a good mood. I rested the remainder of the day drank over a gallon of water and made myself a nice healthy meal of fish and a baked potato for dinner which I could not finish. I went to bed fairly early. I woke up 2 hours later and vomited, not because I had food poisoning but because my body was just not used to the exertion. And I think trying to cram in 48 hours worth of water into 10 hours was just a bit much.
This morning I went to the gym and tried my normal monday circuit. I jogged for 30 mins and then started doing arm and upper body training. I immediately had to stop. While in a plank position, my arms gave-out from beneath me and the room swayed and tilted. My ears rang. I felt like I was going to vomit again. So I just sat on the mat and breathed deeply. I consulted with my my fitness soul sister and we decided I was overworked, underfed and completely depleted. It was at the movement today where I realized just what a delicate balance it all is. You really need to pay attention to what you are putting into your body to make sure you can perform your best, before AND after.
In my head I was on a mission to run that long distance no matter what. But in reality you must prepare and you must recover properly. It’s no joke. Some people do go out and run 9 miles a day, but how long have they been doing that for? And how new is it to me? Yep. I fucked up. I’m just happy to have really learned this lesson now, and not the day of my big run -which I will prepare for meticulously.

On a lighter note, I ran down this major road in my area yesterday. It’s a long stretch of highway and the only direct way into my town. I drive it everyday. I see people on their bikes and running more often than not. There was a time when I would drive by those runners and think how awesome they looked, how that was the ultimate badass run in my area. When you run Los Osos Valley Road you know know you aren’t fucking around. And that was me yesterday, part of that No Fucking Around Crew.

Here is a picture from my last 10k run. I can’t even believe I am this person sometimes. Notice the big smile.


Love and Loss

(First and foremost, before you begin to read, know that I am still full of hope.)

There are moments when I lose all faith in men. I know that sounds awful, but it’s just the truth. I haven’t even really been looking for a partner, or trying to date. But I did put it out there into the universe that I wanted to be noticed, and the universe heard me. But as we all know, the universe has a strange sense of humor.

In the last few months I have had several men float in and out my life rather quickly. Sometimes they left before I even realized they had crept into my sight. None of them had the will or the capacity to really get to know me though. But here are a few examples of what happened.

A boy invites me to a BBQ, does not show up because he decided he needed a Papa Smurf tattoo instead. I’m not kidding.

After several months of flirting with me, The Physician’s Assistant at my office sends sexy text messages to me, approaches me in my massage room and kisses me in a way that says, let’s get naked, then never follows-up or calls or texts me again.

A friend’s friend wants to meet me after seeing several pictures of me. When we finally have a conversation, the first thing he wants to know is how old I am. When I tell him 36 (he is 25), he then precedes to tell me how good I look for my age, but really that was out of his range. *I wasn’t even all that interested…

Met a boy at a bar through a mutual friend, we hit it off. He calls several days later and remembers all kinds of details I told him about myself the night we met. I swoon. Me have a date, a great date, and make plans to meet-up again on the weekend. The events that followed after our meeting went something like this; he saw fat pictures of me on Facebook, deleted his friend request, didn’t return my phone call asking him about the weekend, and I never heard from again.  It may sounds silly, but I cried. A lot. I also got really drunk and cried the next day too. Pathetic much?

So much for chivalry.

I realize eventually I’ll need to get back on that horse and ride. One day I will. I just had some very hard realizations through this all. Losing weight hasn’t made my life easier or better in every capacity. That’s not to say I have the burning desire to be fat again, because believe me, I do not. But I think there was this part of me that thought when I was at a certain weight/size men would see me differently and react. Well, that has happened, but love isn’t exactly knocking down my door. Just because I’ve lost nearly 80 pounds, I am not bullet proof when it comes to the disappointment of rejection. I had forgotten what that felt like. Losing weight doesn’t make your heart an less sensitive. I also think maybe I’m just not ready for all this yet. I needed validation that I was attractive and I got it. I need to embrace that, so I don’t want to dwell on this for too long. Honestly, I just don’t have time. And secondly, I don’t want to be that “I just need a good man” type. I know there is more to life and with that I acknowledge just how much better a lot of things have gotten since the drop in weight.

Here is my good list:

-I’m smaller. I’m in a size 14 now. A true size 14. No 16’s can stay on my hips. It’s funny. Shopping is suddenly so easy.

-I’m faster. I recently ran my second 10k of the summer. I took a 10 whole minutes off my time between the first and the last run.

-I’m happier. Exercise does wonders of your psyche.

-I have more energy. In fact, I took some photos for a good friend of mine this week, and it was an all day thing. I was up and down ladders, crawling on the ground, running through sand- and I wasn’t breathless once. I didn’t even break a sweat.

-People tell me how good I look- VERY often.

When I start making lists of good things that are happening, I understand just how much I need to focus on the very important things right now. Meeting a man shouldn’t really be a priority. I have a half marathon to run in 6 weeks. I start another semester of school in 4 weeks. I’m 3 pounds away from breaking the 200 mark. I’ll be moving at the end of the year and have many things to tie-up. THOSE are the things that really matter right now. That’s where my focus needs to be.


This is my new favorite running song. It’s pretty fitting right now.
I am Titanium

The other kind of Independence Day

Suddenly, it’s July.

Back in June I had posted that Coco and I were going to not only do double workouts, but try and drop 10 pounds as well in the 30 days June had to offer. So, this is what happened:

I worked out A LOT. I did double workouts 4x a week, and 2 regular-day workouts as well. I ate better and actually ate more. I quickly discovered that the more you workout the more you actually have to eat. Hmm… So that’s why I was feeling so shitty for all those months! (DING! DING! DING!) I ran my ass off, I doubled up training sessions and by the last week of June, I hit a wall. I was tired, sore and slightly unmotivated. I ended up going to LA for a long weekend and though I brought my running clothes, I chose to eat well (as in NOT well), visit people I love, and rest. It did wonders for me. And when I went for a run on Monday morning I felt a sense of renewal and was astounded by my increased energy. There is something to be said for “rest days”. And I really hate it when my trainer is right! But yea, it went well. And even though I had two days of eating totally shitty (I actually drank a 32 oz vanilla shake one night) I didn’t gain my seventy-something pounds back. I didn’t gain any weight at all in fact, which makes me realize just how fast my metabolism is burning. Amazing. I’ll get back to this thought in a minute. As for total weight loss for the month of June… THREE POUNDS lost. Just 3. Not 10. And I can live with that, because it was a hard three pounds to lose. And if that meant I got to have a vanilla shake before dinner one night, then it was totally worth it. Also, I can now run 5 miles in just about 1 hour. That’s pretty fast, mutha fuckas! Yay, me! I’m going to take every victory I can right now, because that’s what keeps me going. So that was June.

New goals for July:

Break 200. I’ve been saying this and wanting this since April. 200 is my arch nemesis. Seriously, I have not been under 200 for years. And the last time I was, it literally lasted like 12 hours, then I lost my shit over something ridiculous and started to gain weight again. Yea. Awesome.
In order to break the 200 mark I have to give up alcohol. I already started. It’s been 6 days so far and I have already lost 1 pound, so I can already tell my body likes what it’s feeling. I drink a lot. And by a lot I don’t mean a lot everyday, I just mean everyday. I always have wine at my house. I always have wine with dinner or after dinner. It was how I was unwinding. It was my “reward” for all my hard workouts. But all that has proven to stop the progress I am making. So, alcohol has got to go.
It’s kind of a busy month full of get-togethers, so I’ll allow myself a glass or two per occasion, but I can already tell I may change my mind. For instance, last night I went to a baseball game, complete with fireworks and lawn seats. I actually drank water. WATER- not icy beer with a hot dog on the side. I brought an apple and a banana to eat too. Yep, I sure am fun these days. It’s going to be totally worth it in the end, so I’m doing it.
My last goal for July is to take the fear out of eating. As I mentioned before, I was surprised that I didn’t gain all my weight back after a weekend of bad eating. I was surprised. Because in my mind eating bad is what got me into this mess and if I waiver from my good eating habits for just one moment it’s all coming back. Well, that is just ridiculous. I can eat the occasional cheeseburger and I won’t gain 10 pounds overnight. I CAN. Because I didn’t gain all that weight in one night in the first place. I gained it over a long period of time of not loving myself or believing in who I was or could be. That’s how I got there. I got there from eating out from a drive-thru 15x a week. I didn’t gain it from eating at Chili’s and having a margarita with my girlfriend. And I really want to be that carefree from time to time. I don’t want to stress when there is a special occasion, or if I have horrible PMS and need a whole bag  a giant handful of Kettle Chips. It’s OK to have those things sometimes. I should be able to do it without feeling horrible about myself. It’s not everyday I do that, but it is everyday that I eat really fucking well. So I need to calm the fuck down and enjoy those moments when they occur. I’m going to try to anyway.

Losing weight has become a continuous mind fuck. You are constantly trying to talk yourself into working out, eating well, getting faster, getting stronger. You flex your muscles everyday and try to look beyond the loose skin and saggy boobs. You tell yourself the scale doesn’t matter because the clothes are loose. That is a hard thing to do- even though the outcome is still awesome. These are all great things, but they are exhausting. It’s a full time job. When people tell you that you are obsessed, you want to scream at them THAT’S HOW SHIT GETS DONE! Because it is how shit gets done. You have to flex and workout your mind just as you do your body, so that you’re both on the same page. That’s how it works. It’s hard. And if you’ve ever had to lose a large amount of weight, it’s even harder.

But I’m feeling less crazy these days, and that is something. And like I said before, I’ll take every victory I can right now.