Presenting "Toy" Number One

Well, this is what it's come to. I'm consistently exercising and eating right, and everything is going well, but I have nothing interesting to say. (OK, OK, even less interesting to say than normal.) So I'm going to "review"/describe one of my favorite "toys". Yes, I'll confess that my wallet hates my lifestyle change. I, on the other hand, love the gadgets and tools. Maybe we'll reach a compromise soon. (Note: Nothing you see here is an affiliate link. I'll let you know if that ever changes.)

So, up first: The Blender Bottle. (If you search around, you can probably find it cheaper through another site.)

Let me tell you: This is no gimmick. The little whisk ball you see in the picture zips around the inside of the bottle (powered by your shaking, of course) and mixes it all up. And I mean it all.

Note: I've tried the others. The ones with a little mixing grate near the top. Even one with a battery-powered blender at the bottom. (Well, actually, that one worked well but had no way of closing, so it wasn't exactly portable.)

It's truly a thing of beauty. Protein powder? Blended. Powdered greens? Smooth. Powdered egg white? Well, there we have one problem. It whips so well that my egg whites become frothy. So, yes, one could complain that it works too well.

Aside from the too-frothy egg whites, I also haven't been able to quite figure out how to drink right after shaking without dripping stuff off the lid. I've resorted to slurping off the lid before I sip. No biggie; it's clean.

Some nice touches:

• Measurements on the side for easy-ish reference. (The -ish is due to a clear choice of form over function, as the marks are formed in the plastic and not drawn on. This means that they will last and don't clutter the design, but it also means that they're quite often hard to see and read.)
• Incredibly easy cleaning. It's top-rack safe, but you can also fill it with hot water and a drop of dish soap and let it "self-clean" by whisking, rinsing, and repeating until water is clear.
• Easy-open and stay-open top. It stays in whatever position you place it. This means you don't get any green, purple, or whatever gunk on the tip of your nose from the cap falling shut. This should, theoretically, also help provide a way to reduce the drips, but all I can cause it to do is save the drips in the groove of the lid. See slurping, above, for my solution. No matter; this is a small price to pay.
• Smooth mixing. Did I make that clear earlier? Seriously, I'm not kidding. I recently added some protein powder to a relatively thick green smoothie, and it blended the powder evenly in seconds. That's probably the hardest challenge I've given it, and it passed with flying colors.

How I use (or have used) it:

• Before I bit the bullet and bought a high-powered blender, I'd buy a whole juice such as Naked Juice. Use half the bottle (8 oz.) of juice, add a little more water, mix in powdered greens and protein powder or egg white. Give it a few shakes, throw it in the work bag without fear of opening, store it in the mini-fridge until my morning snack time, remix for a few seconds, and enjoy.
• Ready-to-go reduced yolk egg mix. I mix something like three whole eggs with powdered egg whites equivalent to 1.5 cups, an appropriate amount of water, and mix away. (The fact that there's yolk in there cuts down on the frothiness.) Store it in the fridge and use on demand for many uses, including omelets, fried-rice, and breakfast mixes in my rice cooker (oatmeal or rice).
• Now that I have a blender capable of whole-fruit/vegetable smoothies, it's the perfect tool for bringing my smoothies with me. I pour half the smoothie into a glass for part of my breakfast and pour the other half in the blenderbottle. Any settling is easily repaired with a few flips of the wrist, and I'm ready to freak out my students with my often-green fruit/veggie smoothie. (They still want me to blend spaghetti and meatballs, but I keep telling them that they're missing the point.)

You can also use it for things like mixing salad dressing, but I've never seen the need. Honestly, with just the uses I've listed above, they've already been a fantastic value. If you make smoothies, protein drinks, or any other drinkables that need to be well mixed, I've seen nothing that beats this. Drink up.

Random Observations

So here are some tiny things I've noticed lately.

• My skin is clearer and smoother.
• I swear I can feel muscle on my upper arms. (I hope no one notices me massaging and admiring them.)
• My belly is significantly more "jiggly". (I don't admire this in public.)
• My hips can no longer touch both sides of the bathtub at once. (Yes, they would actually block the water.)
• My belly no longer juts out as if no mere pants can hold it back.
• My back fat doesn't stick out over my pants and around my bra... as much.
• I don't crave sugary sodas.
• I drive by fast food restaraunts without even thinking about them.
• I am aware enough of my body to actually feel when I'm stressed out enough that my blood pressure rises.
• My cheekbones are starting to emerge.
• I can feel my collarbones again.
• I see just a hint of that beautiful "cut" line my calves had in my major cycling days.
• Clothing that used to fit is becoming just a bit too loose.
• Those shirts hanging in my closet gathering dust because they were just a bit too tight are now fitting just about perfectly.
• More and more frequently, I like what I see in full-length mirrors.

That's all for now. And that's good enough for now.

A Gentler Path to Running

OK, so I made it to week six of the c25k a while ago. Technically, I made it past that. But, really, it was torture. So it's no surprise that I stopped. (Well, to be fair, I also began swimming a lot more because I really began to get it.)

And then it hit me: I have a 5k in, um, seven weeks!

Well, now, that could be a problem.

So, I have two options: Restart and continue the c25k or select another way of training for the 5k. (Well, technically I have a third option of not running the 5k in April, but come on... that's not really an option, now is it?)

As much as I like the c25k, it came with one major problem: I would push myself very hard. I have a habit of doing that. I think I've admitted before that I'd rather die than be last on a hike. (Actually, I did get over that with last week's snowshoe hike with the Sierra Club; I decided that being last would, indeed, be a bit better than having to be rescued by a helicopter.) But my point still stands: I push myself hard.

With the c25k, I'm frequently running in the 165-175 bpm range, even reaching up to 180. (That's quite high for someone with a historical max HR of 185 bpm. I'm still working up the courage to truly test my MHR.) According to everything I'm finding, that is actually in the anaerobic range, and I'm not truly building my aerobic base. Instead, I'm torturing myself in a range referred to as "hot", which does build the lactate threshold, but which even very fit people have difficulty maintaing for long. Well, isn't that interesting?

Warning: technical and yawn-inducing stuff follows. Grab a cup of coffee. That is, of course, if you don't already know my blog well enough to have a cup in your hand already.

So, what to do? After reading around, I've decided two things. One, I'm going to start using my heart rate reserve (HRR) to compute my training zones. This makes sense for me because I've always found given heart rate ranges based on percentage of max HR to be too wimpy, and this gives me somewhat higher ranges. Two, I'm going to use HRR training to spend more time in specific HR zones. I'll have hard days where I'm training in zone four (which still should keep me below 173 bpm, so it will be less torturous than before), and I'll follow it up with easy days in zone three, maxing at 159 bpm. (I don't know whether I should do anything other than warm-ups and cool-downs in zone two.)

Today I went out on a zone three run/walk. (That's the (fuzzy) data you're looking at on the right. Yes, there was much more walking than running, but that's OK. (I also went out on a slightly hilly trail, so that was an additional factor.) In the end, I could tell that I worked out, but I was never really breathing hard. In fact, I felt energized when I got in my car, rather than beat down. According to every resource I own and every one I could find on the internet, that means I was in the perfect zone for increasing cardiovascular fitness. (Isn't that weird? To train aerobically, I should never be breathing really hard. Sort of counterintuitive, isn't it?)

So, here's the basic goal: Go for a set distance for each run/walk while maintaining a target heart range. Try to run more and walk less each time. If everything I read (and believe) is correct, I should be able to slowly transition to running the entire distance.

Now, will this get me to running my 5k by April 11? I'm not sure. But I can always run/walk it. More importantly: Will this get me to running at a pace I can actually maintain and enjoy? That, I'm pretty sure, is a yes.

Comments and suggestions are more than welcome. Assuming anyone kept reading to this point. It's OK if you needed a second cup of coffee. I understand.

Crappy Healthful Food: Precursor or Step One?

A thread gone very wrong over at Gyminee got me thinking about a past food pattern. Let's sum up the heart of that thread as: turkey hot dogs, fruit shakes, and low-calorie snack foods do not make a good diet regardless of calories. There was more, but we'll leave it at that.

So, looking back, I noticed that there's a pattern to my behavior right before going off healthful eating (and back to daily Jack in the Box meals): I stop eating predominantly whole foods and start eating nearly 100% packaged "healthy" crap. Luna bars (yum!), balance bars, 100-calorie snack packs, frozen dinners, etc. Shortly thereafter, I dump all facade of healthful eating (because, let's face it, that really isn't healthful) and go back to the drive-through diet.

(Don't get me wrong. There's a place for those healthful packaged foods, but they cannot and should not make up 100% of one's diet.)

Now, I'm not sure which comes first - the diet dominated by packaged products or whatever flawed mentality I have that leads back to overeating - but I think it's an interesting correlation. Kind of like an alcoholic drinking light beer before dumping back into polishing off bottles of whiskey.

My therapist (in our extremely short time together so far) has surmised that my weight problem is one consequence (symptom?) of my not liking myself enough to take care of myself. Well, that's a significant oversimplification, but you get the idea. (I find it humorous because, when I was a child, my mother told me that I'm overweight because I don't like myself. I responded with something like, "No, Mom, I'm overweight because I really like food. Ah... was I not witty as a child?)

Nevertheless, my point: If one overeats because of a lack of self-care/self-love, can one not begin eating within caloric limits and starve oneself nutritionally? Eliminate all the whole foods out of a diet, and the body and mind, surely, would suffer in a similar way as they would suffer under all fast-food crap. Calories don't enter into it, really.

So, while all calories may be created equal on one level, they certainly are not on another. I've said it before, and I'll say it again. Food is fuel. The body needs fuel. Now I'm realizing the greater importance of this: Not any fuel will do. Quality counts.

It's OK to drop back (sometimes)... just don't drop out!

The title is my new motto. I realized that I had been pushing myself too hard with the c25k. Let's face it, running at 227 pounds is harder than running at 200 pounds. Does that mean that I shouldn't? Heck no. It just means that I need to have a respectful relationship with my body. I push, but listen when it's just hit its limit. Come to think of it, shouldn't that relationship always exist? Even "real" athletes know where the boundary is and don't berate themselves for paying attention to it. Of course, they don't let that boundary sit there; they shove it back.

Back to the point. Before hopping on the treadmill, I had decided to drop back to week six. It had been over a week since my last run, and that one was a bit of a struggle. (Did I even finish it as written?) Turns out that I dropped back a bit further, but I'm going to blame the ridiculously high heat in the gym today, with no fan available. Really, it felt like I was running in a sauna! Nevertheless, I was close enough that I'll stick on week six, day one for a while, then move up.

I hit the pool and instantly felt how drained I was. The last two swims, I was finally "getting" it. The swim method I was learning was beginning to really click. Today? Not so much. As the author of the method would say, I was practicing struggle. So, what to do? Darned right: cut the swim short. I'm learning how to swim efficiently; I already know/knew how to flop around in "freestyle", desperate for air, so I didn't need to practice that, for heaven's sake! No shame in climbing out, though, as I did 500 good yards in twenty minutes before stopping. I'll do more next time.

So, all together now: "It's OK to drop back... just don't drop out!" There, doesn't that feel better?

She floats on snow!

Sorry I haven't posted for a while. Nothing much happened. (And for three days, that's literal.) But I haven't jumped off the wagon. I was absolutely drained for three days, and barely able to make it through work. No excuses, though, so despite not exercising, I ate within limits. I'm trying to figure out what caused the "dainage". Current hypotheses: learning to balance work/home/active lifestyle; insufficient protein intake; problems with priorities; or - possibly - low iron (it's been a while since I ate beef). I'm addressing the last possibility by beginning Centrum Performance supplements again. They have iron, and I have to believe that I won't overdose on iron (a legitimate concern) from a common supplement.

Now, on to yesterday's adventure: snowshoeing! My district's wellness program hosted a snowshoe hike and I gathered the courage to go. (I'm still smarting from the humiliation I suffered at the first wellness adventure years ago.) The leader reassured me, and fellow hikers were more than supportive.

While I could certainly feel my body working, it was never anything I couldn't handle, and I could likely have gone harder and/or farther had I needed to. That's good.

In fact, I enjoyed it so much that I ran off and bought (another) pair of snowshoes. Wait, I hear you protest, if you had a pair of snowshoes, then why are you wearing rentals in that picture? And why do you need another pair? Well, yes, Eagle Eyes, I do own a pair.... good for up to 200 total pounds. (I bought them a while ago, when I was much closer to that weight limit and falling fast). Currently at 227 pounds, and unwilling to snowshoe naked, I had to rent from REI.

That brings me to an interesting (to me, at least) tangent. As I was getting the rental, the man explained the feature that would help on steep ascents. Inside, I chuckled; do I look like someone ready to hit that level of ascent, I jokingly wondered. But wait, the rest of my brain later argued, isn't that exactly what I've been wanting: people who don't judge my ability based on my body shape? Well, yes. So, to the anonymous REI clerk, I say: well done. You weren't coddling me, and you weren't simply humoring me. You were genuinely giving me information that you saw me as possibly needing, regardless of my weight. Well done, indeed.

Back to the trip, the ridge was lovely. That's Lake Tahoe in the background, in case you don't recognize it. There's a moonlight hike this coming weekend, and I'm considering joining again, weather willing. I'll have my very own snowshoes to break in for that trip, you know. I suspect that the view won't be as lovely for that trip. Or, maybe, it'll be even lovelier. Only one way to find out.

Ravenous, and yet...

2,550 calories consumed today (well above my target range of 1466-2066) and I can't quite say that they were healthful. I did eat three fruit servings, but only about two veggie servings. Everything else wasn't horrible, but it wasn't clean either. Too much fat; too little protein.

But I'm not upset. Why? I figure there must be a reason I'm so hungry today. Fitday tells me that I'm still averaging a 800+ calorie deficit per day. And even these thoughts weren't enough to reassure me, let's face it: I could have polished off nearly that many calories (over 1,900) in a single meal in my Jack in the Box days.

More importantly, I'm not exactly satisfied with the day. Yeah, my belly is full, but it doesn't feel quite right. I'm not even close to the level of berating myself, but I am at the level that I'm genuinely looking forward to tomorrow's rice-cooker frittata with whole grains, more than half a cup of broccoli, and a high egg white:egg yolk ratio. Yes, truly. Right now, I realize that I miss the satisfied feeling of a body filled with healthful food, and it will feel good to properly nourish my body tomorrow.

The President's Physical Fitness Award Revisited

Join me as I take a trip back to middle school. I have been overweight my whole life, in varying degrees, so you can picture me in middle school. I had a good circle of friends, but the majority of students did not ignore my weight and awkwardness. (Imagine that!)

Now, cut to a day in social studies class. My teacher announces that I have won the Presidential Academic Fitness Award and presents me with a certificate. Being middle school kids, my peers miss the word "academic". (To be fair, so did I, so I was bewildered until I look at the certificate.) They openly snicker and laugh. My teacher, annoyed, reinforces the word "academic". They finally settle down, but the moment lingers.

Isn't it funny what we remember.

But of course I would never have won the Presidential Fitness Award! Other than riding my bike everywhere, I was in awful shape. I couldn't do a single push-up, modified or not. Sit-ups were OK. I couldn't jog to save my life. Let's not even mention horrifyingly, desperately dangling mess that was supposed to be the chin-up. P.E. class was torture for me, and I was genuinely perplexed by people who looked forward to it. So, not only would I have never won the fitness award; I couldn't care less about it. Well, except for the snickers when my peers thought for a second that I had won it.

Now, coming back to today, when I have begun to "get it" with physical fitness, and imagine my curiosity when I learn about the President's Council on Physical Fitness and Sports adult fitness test. Interesting. I pop over for a look. I do find that it's a little short on variety of tests, but it's like a thermometer. It's one reading that creates a baseline. OK, I'm in, I decide, and test myself.

My results as of yesterday:

So it took me a while to remember that the 5th percentile is the bottom fifth percent, not the top. My confusion stemmed from the fact that I first used the walking option to compute my results, and that also landed me in the 5th percentile. Surely, I thought (and still believe) that a sixteen-minute walked mile is nothing to sniff at. Not the top, of course, but the bottom?!? Having thought about it, I have since decided that they're using weight and heart rate (taken immediately after finishing, not thirty seconds after), and it probably skews my results.

So I calculated my 1.5 minute mile time from my c25k speeds. I average at about 14:08-minute miles, so this seemed fair. But I still landed in the bottom 5%.

Really? I do believe that many of my age-group acquaintances could neither run 1.5 miles, nor could they walk a 16-minute mile, so I do have my doubts about the validity of my result. I wonder about the testing sample. Are the results being constantly updated from people who use the test? If so, how many couch potatoes are in the sample, compared to how many fitness fanatics?

Nonetheless, it is a measurement tool. It's something I can do again in three months or six months and use to compare growth. I can only go up from here, right? Right.

UPDATE: See how I improved (or didn't improve) with July's results here.

Relatively Painless

It's a good thing the nurse didn't do a blood pressure check for today's doctor appointment. I worked myself up into such a lather over how I thought the conversation was going to go (not to mention the expected disapproval that I'm still overweight) that I was feeling the stress. I may have even been shaking upon entering the office.

I was all worked up for nothing. Although we've had our back-and-forths (I suppose it is difficult to have laypeople regularly challenge your expertise and - trust me - I'm challenging in more ways than one), he basically took it for granted that someone asking for a referral to a mental health provider has a good reason. I told him my reasoning anyway and he didn't bat an eyelash. Maybe he's satisfied that I'm taking a logical step. Maybe he's just tired of arguing with me. Maybe he undestands more than I've given him credit for. I guess it doesn't matter. The good news is that we see things eye-to-eye on this and I'm on my way to developing a relationship with a mental health professional that I believe will help me break through my mysterious barrier.

Now, if you're paying attention, then you'll expect a running update today. Well, the schedule changed a bit. I was so full of energy yesterday that I just couldn't stay home and take a rest day. (How often does that happen?) So off to the pool I went for a swim (A decent 950 yards of swimming and swim drills). When I entered my exercise in my log, I realized: That was my seventh day of exercise. Oopsie! So, my rest day shifted to today and tomorrow will be my run (and strength training).

Get this: I'm looking at my bright yellow Lebert Equalizers sitting across the room and seriously thinking about doing a quick session. But I know better. My body needs to rest once in a while so that it can continue to improve and get stronger. It is sort of nice to have to force myself to take a rest day rather than forcing myself to get out and do something. I mean, really, that's a switch to be proud of.

Is This What They Call the Wall?

Actually, I know the answer: no. Nevertheless, I have to cut myself a break today on what was supposed to be a 2.5 mile run. I'm not exactly happy about it, but I do have to cut myself some slack considering my running and cycling the past two days.

I wasn't going to stop. I had made it over halfway. But, then, I did. (stop=walk, for the record). It was only going to be a .05 mi. walk. Until it became a .10 mi. walk. Or, make that a .15 mi. walk. Followed up shortly after a short run by another .?? mi. walk. And again. According to my GPS software, I ran about 2.05 miles in total and walked the rest.

(Well, actually, it claims that I jogged 2.05 miles... I'm not fast enough to have ever run, even during my end-of-the-run-sprint, according to the software. Sorry, I don't know if I'll ever be running 10:00 minute miles, Mr. SportTracks, and you'll just have to make due with that.)

You know, though, it wasn't that long ago that I was ecstatic with jogging 90 seconds, so I really shouldn't beat myself up over only running a little over two miles. So I won't. To top it off, I then came home and did my weight training.

All in all, it really was not a bad fitness day. I'll take tomorrow as a rest day and I'll get the 2.5 miles done on Wednesday. Not a problem.

Just Checking In...

I imagine that you, my millions of teeming (imaginary) readers are wondering where I've been. Is she quitting again? Already?!? Well, no. I'm not quitting. In fact, since I'm just doing a check-in, I might as well share a measure I'm taking to prevent quitting in the future.

First, a brief run-down: (1) I completed week six of the c25k. It's solid runs from here on out. Go, me! (2) My bike ride today included a couple of (mole)hills, but I survived and felt pretty darned good about it, after I got the first couple of (flat) miles out, that is. Why are the first few miles so hard? (3) I switched my weight training routine. Why, I realized, should I try to suffer through a month of a routine I loathed, detested, and clearly was not ready for? I have never struggled so much with actively avoiding a resistance routine, and I finally figured out that it was simply too hard for me right now. So I've switched to a routine using my new bright-yellow Lebert Equalizers. (I'll probably post a review of sorts after I use them for a bit longer.) One instant improvement: I'm willing to strength train again. So... things are going pretty well, overall.

Now, my preventative measure: I'm (hopefully) going to start therapy. Therapy? I hear you ask, Why therapy when you're back to doing things right? Well, the thing is that I've learned the pattern: I do great. Until I don't. I have no one to blame for the u-turn except for me, so I've got to work on fixing the problem before I hit the u-turn. If I wait until I change directions, then I simply won't get therapy. But, if I start going now and develop a relationship with a therapist, I figure, the groundwork will be laid so that I can break through that wall, rather than changing directions.

But it's all in your control, you scream, just choose to keep going rather than quitting! Yes, yes, I know that I control my destiny. I've done that for 37 years. Well, since my first diet - thanks to Mom - was at age nine, let's say 28 years. Nevertheless, I get to a point where I make stupid choices. I have no one but myself to blame, so... I guess I need to fix me! (Or, improve, at the least.)

Here's what I'm dreading about this decision: I have to get authorization from my physician. Yes, that will likely be fun. How I picture it:

Oh, look, you're fat again.

Yes, yes I am. But I'm doing something about it.

Well, here's how you should do it.

No, no thank you. I know how to lose weight. That's not the problem.

Clearly you don't, here's how to do it.

No, really, I do. I lost 50 pounds in the past this way, and I've lost over 20 pounds in the present this way. Eat healthfully, eat less, exercise more. It's pure math.

(Grudgingly) So why are you here?

I want approval to see a psychiatriatrist.

Why?

Because I want to finish this weight loss, not stall halfway through.

It's all about food choices.

Yes, I know.

So why the therapist?

Because I figure that if a sane person makes stupid choices for long enough, there must be something not quite right in that otherwise sane person.

But it's all about food choices.

Yes, I know.

So why the therapist?

Um... wait.. let me pick some other excuse for seeing a therapist...

Yes, I know it sounds as if I'm making a mountain out of a molehill, but you don't know this guy. We have a history. You can see it near the bottom of this post. I just hope that I can convince him that, in this, I am right, and I should be authorized to see a psychiatrist. Cross your fingers for me.

Running IS Hard on the Knees.... Sort Of...

She's down!

OK, let's back up. I love running in the dark. I'm not stupid about it, though. I wear a headlamp and, if I'm running in the a.m. darkness, a blinking armband. Our dog, Keena, runs with me, and she'll be a great defense system if I ever need it. She's always on the lookout against threats and, trust me, she'll win if anyone ever tries anything. (Really, though, one look at Keena and they'd think twice anyway.)

But this threat, well, who could have seen this one coming?

Maybe me.

Darn train tracks.

To my credit, I fell into a decent roll. My only real damage is a badly skinned knee. I haven't had this kind of skinned knee since I was eleven. (Seriously: owie!) I'll probably be a bit sore tomorrow, but no harm done. Keena was incredibly sympathetic to my injuries, if you call becoming extremely interested in the base of a nearby bush sympathetic.

I walked a tiny bit and started jogging just in time to misjudge a truck's speed and force it to slow down while crossing the street. (In my defense, it was a zebra crossing, so I did have right of way.) No problems the rest of the way.

So, week 6, day 2 is officially completed. Both one mile running splits were sub 14:00 miles, so I can't complain too much. Up next: 2.25 miles without stopping. I'll be sure to steer clear of railroad tracks. Or, at least, watch where I step.

Taking Victories as They Come.

I just noticed that it's become official: I am no longer morbily obese. I am currently "merely" obese. I do look forward to the day on which I can simply call myself overweight, but I suspect that I may become content in the lower range of the overweight category, shifting my attention to lean muscle mass rather than a number on a BMI chart. (145 lbs will the be magic number that pulls me right to the cusp of a "normal" BMI maximum of 24.9.) But that's a decision to be made about a year down the road.

For now, this victory stands on its own. Go, me!

Footnote: Speaking of BMI, I found something interesting semi-randomly while googling. It's a Flickr set: Illustrated BMI Categories. And no, I'm not there. Maybe I'll throw up a picture at some time in the future, but not yet. One thing at a time.

Why, oh, why do I punish myself so?

So, I'm trudging along on today's run (week six day one of c25k - yay!), and I begin to wonder why, exactly, I'm so focused on pushing myself to becoming a runner. I mean, really, I spent so much energy in my youth convincing people that I was physically unable of running (knees without enough cartilage, you see). I spent over thirty years perfectly satisfied with being a non-runner (at any weight), and here I am, for the second time, pushing myself to become a runner. Why?

I mean, I could lose weight cycling much more easily. Hiking feels great. Weight training is certainly effective and (except for the particular routine I'm currently on) I've not had a problem with it. Those three activities, really, would be enough to achieve a healthy and happy physical state.

So what's with the running?

I have decided that it's the same reason those weight loss shows on television seem to torture contestants: When you prove to yourself that just one previously-impossible feat is actually possible, every challenge becomes achievable.

Yes, I know, you can do anything you set your mind to. We've heard it over and over again, and no one disputes it. And yet, there's this little nagging voice in the back of our minds that always wonders if it is really true. I mean, I can set my mind to learning to fly, and all I'll achieve is a nice stay at the local mental institution. Clearly, the little voice says, we can't do anything just because we decide to.

We can argue with the little voice all we want, explaining that realistic goals are where it's at, but the voice just won't shut up. Until we stomp the voice into the ground by achieving something it's convinced is outside that realm of realistic goals. Until we run a 5k. Or a 10k. Or swim a mile. Or maybe, just maybe, complete a tri.

There is something so absolutely empowering about setting a goal that feels near-impossible and achieving it. I know. I've been there. And I will be there again. And this time, I'll keep going. That little voice is going to learn its lesson once and for all.

Too cold! Too hot! Too small! (Coming soon: Too big!)

OK, so I've established two things:

1) I underdress for riding in the cold.
2) I overdress for running in the cold.

Well, yeah. Duh. I can't run at 16 mph! After yesterday's bike ride (I still shivered through 6.75 miles without losing any fingers to frostbite) I placed an order for a wind jacket and wind-proof cycling gloves. The gloves are no biggie, but the limit in jacket options is a source of frustration. Thank goodness for Team Estrogen!

Actually, getting that jacket was a breeze compared to buying snowpants at REI for a planned (but since sadly cancelled) snowshoe hike. I know, I know: Why carry clothing for larger people since they clearly aren't active? On the other hand, what are larger people supposed to wear when they decide to become active? I'd whine and be angry at "the man", but really I'm angry at myself. It's my own fault that I can't just walk in and pick from many options off the rack.

If all goes as planned, this won't be an issue for long. In fact, if you are a "fat athlete", or know someone who is, be sure to look for my upcoming limited line of lovingly-used plus-sized activewear at ebay!

First Ride of the Year!

January 1, 2009: 9.09 miles on the bike at an average of 13.9 mph. No hills, of course; it was the river path. Oh, sure, it's nothing to sing and dance about, but not too shabby. In fact, it made me - again - wonder why I don't do it more often. (Or, really, considering the last year, at all.)

I made the mistake of telling my father that I rode today instead of yesterday because I wanted to make today the first ride of the year. His response: "If you rode yesterday, that would have been the last of the year." True. But the sad fact stood out: it also would have been the first and only ride of 2008.

Anything else to report? Well, I reluctantly weight trained today. Why am I so reluctant about it? It's an absolute killer. I kid you not. I'm using bodyweight exercises, and trust me: when you're using 234 pounds of bodyweight, those exercises are just too, too much. Except for the one-leg bridges and modified push-ups, my heart/lungs cry out and I get dizzy long before my muscles give up. Well... maybe "long before" is a slight hyperbole, but it is somewhat ironic that my heartrate shoots up more by my weight training than my pre-WT cardio warmup. I suppose it doesn't help that they're "supersets", either. What keeps me going: knowing how awesomely strong I will be in the long run. I mean, think about it. As I build strength and stamina at this weight, think about what that will translate into at a lower weight if I keep up the effort... and manage to avoid passing out and falling into a coma, of course. Small detail.

The picture on the right? That's from the "end of the road" from my river ride today. There were also shopping carts. Shopping carts? The nearest grocery store is waaaayyyy far away. It is a mystery. This hand-scrawled cardboard sign, however, is not. The bike path just stops. Done. Turn around and return to whence you came. "Lands End." This makes me smile.

Cue Pomp and Circumstance

OK, maybe no need for a band... yet. I did finish week four of the c25k plan today. Not such a big deal, perhaps, but important enough because I decided to repeat a day (or more if needed) so that I wouldn't move on until I completed the week four workout exactly as written. Bonus: Each running split was sub-14:00. Yay for me!

I've begun to wonder: What is it, exactly, that prevents some of us from easier success in running? Is it really the body's limit? I mean, sure, one needs to respect the limits of joints, in particular, and cardiovascular fitness does play a role, of course, but there must be something else. After all, when I was young, I could ride for miles and miles and miles. (On an old clunker, mind you. I fondly remember cruising along on Kearny Villa Road and being slowly passed by a "real" cyclist, who looked at my Sears bike, all the other stuff I was carrying, and expressed genuine admiration at my speed, all things considered.) But if I was asked to run around the track? I couldn't make it a single time around the quarter-mile loop without stopping.

How much does an I can't run mentality enter into it? How much of it is pure mind game?

Nevertheless, I'm slowly changing my body, heart, lungs... and mind. Again.

Speaking of mind games, I've made two committments to keep myself in check. I've registered for two "races". One is a demon I need to chase down, and the other is simply a logical goal.

First, for April 11, I've registered for a 5k. The Cool Valley 5k, to be precise. Ask me how much I'm hoping that it's a flat loop. Just ask. (A lot!) If I stay on my current plan, I should have some time to get just a little hill work in before the event. Worst case scenario: I get flashbacks to Virginia City. You know, it's not like Cool, CA is a mountain town, or anything... Nah...

Second: the demon to face. I registered for the Chico Flatflower in 2007. When I heard the predicted weather right before the event, I decided not to go because I would have to camp out and didn't want to have to ride in the rain after sleeping on a cold, hard, wet campground. Or, at least, that was my excuse. Truth, of course, was that I was dropping (dropped) on my training, and I simply didn't feel prepared. Of course: no rain. (Oh, how it added insult to injury when they mailed me my ride swag! I still don't know what to do with that water bottle; I certainly can't use it!)

For this year: I've already registered and booked the hotel room. No excuses. Not this year. Which means... I'd better start getting on the bike! First ride of the year: tomorrow. Sure, the flatflower is "only" 30 miles, but I'm going to need to build a decent base, and I'm basically at zero right now.

Besides, do you think this will be my last cycling event of the year? Of course not! Come to think of it, I do have a little unfinished business in Fallon ... I wonder when registration for that opens...

Clearing out the cobwebs

Well, well, well... Isn't it quite dusty in her? Quite some cleaning to do. I debated long and hard about my options. Option A: Start a brand new blog. Option B: Skip the whole blogging thing. Option C: Bite the bullet and restart this blog.

What the heck am I thinking by picking option C?

Some observations as I wipe off the inches of dust on this blog.

• It's been two and a half years since I first started this blog, and it's been neary two years since I last posted here at all.
• I visited occasionally over that time, although I'm not quite sure why.
• My weight has not yo-yo'd (yo-yo'ed? yo-yoed?) very much in that time. It's yo'ed. That's it. I'm currently at an averaged weight of about 235, having re-peaked at ~254.
• I can be funny when I have a good attitude. I'm glad I have the chance to reread some of my old posts.
• I can be a whiney, self-pitying dud when I get a bad attitude. It's difficult to read the tedious drivel from those days.

So, back to the question above. Why return to the scene of the failure? Because this blog is me, in a sense. If I expect to be able to pick myself up from the ashes and make the changes I've spent a lifetime attempting, then the least I can do is resuscitate this blog.

It seems as if the latter should even be easier than the former, but I'm not sure that's the case. It feels as if there's a little bit of crow on my plate, and perhaps that's as it should be. I hadn't solved all of my problems, and I probably never will. But I can constantly strive for improvement.

That's where I am now. Recognize and honor the past, then face forward and stride purposefully into the future. It feels good.

My Imagination is Evil! (Or, at least, lies.)

Well, hello again.

I've actually been running/walking, biking, and swimming (hey, there's a new one) for a little over a week now. But, there's really been nothing post-worthy. That, and maybe I've been a bit embarassed to write after so many false starts. (Wolf, anyone? With a side of crow?) Regardless, here I am, with a happy story.

About two weeks ago I find myself perusing the bike club calendar, looking for some nice easy rides. Wednesday Workouts starting, I notice. That's nice, but out of my league I'm sure, especially with how long it's been since I really rode. I click for the description anyway. Good for beginners? Interesting. Ettiquette and safety in groups? Definately appropriate. Expected ability: able to ride 10-12 mph nonstop for an hour? Hmmm.... Good question.

I hop on the bike that weekend and find that I can maintain a good 14-15 mph (on the flats, which meets the ride's description) for about 30 minutes. A few days later, I prove that I can maintain it for 45 minutes. That's enough for me... and yet it isn't.

Doubting myself, I call one of the ride organizers to describe myself (it's been a few well-fed and under-excercised months since he's seen me and I make that subtly clear) and ask whether the ride is appropriate for me. His reply is interesting. It starts with, "I'd say yes, but..." then ends with "actually, this ride is perfect for riders like you!" This doesn't help my nagging self-doubts, and he's unable to confirm that others with my challenges will be present to need extra help and patience. "I'd rather have one than zero," he assures. This almost makes it worse.

The $90 worth of new larger (sigh) jerseys I just excitedly bought are in deep trouble of being unused.

I ask others. Should I go? "Yes," they reply, bored at my incessant neediness. They don't understand, I dismiss. I ask the Magic 8-ball the same question. "Doubtful," it gloomily replies, confirming my fears. I even ask the universal decision maker . The negativity continues. Finally, I bribe myself. If I go, I can use my new gym membership afterward with a swim followed by a nice hot-tub soak. Allowing myself a particular shopping splurge may or may not have been promised.

The drive down is difficult. I'm imagining the worst. Elite college atheletes, scoffing at my size and (lack of) ability. I imagine the shame. I picture the not-so-hidden sneers. It'll be like high-school PE all over again, but voluntary this time. I feel the tears welling up. Yes, I'm nearly on the brink of tears.

I'm there, and I've parked. No turning back now. A woman pulls in behind me and confirms that I'm here for the bike ride. She's new too. I mention that I'm here to be majorly outclassed. Smiling, she's relieved to see another unsure cyclist. My arms shoot up in joyous relief. A fellow nervous newbie! If I'm miserable, at least I won't be miserable alone!

Turns out, we weren't the only two. Cyclists of various shapes, ages, abilities and experience levels abounded. We learned very basic pace-line procedures. We rode in circles, practicing. I kept up. I did well... until they hit 18 mph, that is. That's when I dropped back for a few recovery laps. I felt good. I was even complimented on my form. A spectator comments as I ride by, "You've got the biggest smile!" I realize that it's true. I wonder again why I don't do this more often.

The only negative of this ride, is that I should (and do) feel slightly shamed that I was willing to leave the fellow nervous newbie in the dust. My pride at needing to keep up (and being able to do it!) outweighed my decency and attention to her. (My old self-conscious-fat-hiker-with-something-to-prove mantra reared its ugly head: I'd rather die on the trail than be last.) The organizer who had reassured me took the time to to work with her, so I needn't kick myself too hard, but it's a lesson in the golden rule that I'm paying attention to.

My favorite moment: as I packed up my bike, another rider (not one from our slower/newer group) asked if I had fun. After a quick chat including my elite college athlete imaginings, he left me with this: "I hope you had enough fun to do it again." Really? Well, damn. Not a sneer to be found.

This is Not a New Year's Resolution

OK. 227 pounds (yikes). Can't run more than a quarter of a mile at a time again (sigh). My heartrate takes forever to drop down when elevated (grrr). No one to blame for this predicament but myself.

Years ago, I was like most dieters. I would do everything perfectly but then once I did a single thing wrong, I would throw up my hands and exclaim, "Well, that does it! I might as well eat three pints of Häagen-Dazs super premium ice cream of the coffee variety!"

These days, I know better. Every day is a new day. If I mess up today, I have tomorrow to do better.

For the past two and a half months, I began every day knowing that it was a new day and a new opportunity to take better care of my mind and body. And, every day I would make the same decision: Reese's peanut butter cups for breakfast (or similar) and the day would go downhill from there.

Today, for the first time in a very long time, I went for a run. (I had to go running before January to make it clear that it wouldn't be part of a temporary New Year's Resolution. Yes, I have issues.) During the warm up my lower back complained and it didn't stop. Now, this could be that I'm visiting relatives and my lower back doesn't like their mattress, but I'm not so sure. I hadn't programmed my Garmin because I had two voices in my head. One insisted that I would bound out the front door and run 3.1 miles (5k) without stopping. The more reasonable voice countered that I should be pleased to be able to run in half-mile intervals.

Reality was worse yet: after a quarter of a mile I had no choice but to return to walking. For two miles that's what I did: run a quarter of a mile, walk a quarter of a mile. Including warm-up and cool-down I traveled a little less than 2.5 miles. Most depressing: during my ultra-slow (didn't think I could get slower, did ya?) runs, my heart rate reached the 170's. At the end of the quarter-mile walk my heart rate was - wait for it - in the 150's. Oh, this is not good. Three months ago my heart rate would drop to the 130's within a matter of seconds.

Surprising, isn't it? The weight annoys me enough (but it's not like I didn't know). The inability to run saddens me (but I expected that). What angers me the most? That I've lost this much cardiovascular health.

Maybe that's a good sign.