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.

"Don't stop now... it's not over yet!"

OK, so I've been AWOL for a long time now. Two weeks. Too much. With my mother in town, rather than giving me the time to exercise without worrying about my psycho-dog, she's created guilt when I spend the time away from her. Or, perhaps, she's provided an excuse. I don't know.

My plan for after she leaves is to return to the gym every day after work. The weather is driving me there. That, and I'm going into withdrawl from netflix discs (I set a video player on the machines).

Now, the question you're surely wondering: did she run last week's race? Of course! I actually think I did pretty well for my first 5k, considering the spottiness of my training up to the race. (I'd only run 3 miles once before.)

I had two friends joining me at the starting line. One sprinted away like a bunny when the cannon rang out (yes, we had a starter cannon), and the other stayed true to her word to walk the 5k while I... um... didn't quite sprint away.

Remembering my struggle from the previous week's century, I made a concerted effort to watch my pace. No faster than 12:00 minute miles; no slower than 13:00 minute miles. A much older man came up from behind me, and I used him to pace myself for a while. At least until he got too far ahead. I told my pride to be quiet as I watched him disappear into the horizon. I had my own race to run, and I was going to run it, darnit.

I played leap-frog with people foolishly alternating too-high effort with recovery walking. Of course, children understandably did this. Certainly, some people may have been walk-running intentionally. I suspect, however, that these two groups were a minority. Of course, that's pretty much what I did during the Virginia City run, so who was I to criticize? I'm just proud of myself that I ran the whole way without stopping. Well, one stop, but that doesn't count. I'll tell you later.

One leap-frogger answered her cell phone and talked for a while. Really? Wow.

A few leap-froggers coincidentally went back to running every single time I caught up with them. Coincidentally, I'm sure. It couldn't possibly be that they figured that they were OK as long as the fat chick stayed behind them. Nah. I even heard one person exhale, "Damn!" when I passed them too soon after they dropped to a walk. I guess they figured out that they might not be able to stay ahead of the fat chick. Poor things. :-)

I think I'm going to have t-shirts made. The front will say: "I'm OK that they're ahead of me." The back will say: "It's OK that you're behind me."

Yes, I had to negotiate with myself. A lot. "Run the first mile, and then you can take a walking break." "No, you don't need to stop after a mile, push through the discomfort." "Remember, this is what running's all about: running when your body is screaming to stop." "You only have a mile to go. Don't you dare think about walking."

Luckily it was a very flat course. Otherwise, I may have told the negotiator in my head to shove it. As it was, it was a successful negotiation. I didn't stop at all. (Yes, yes, we'll get there). In fact, I even kicked up the pace a bit for my third mile despite never having done negative splits before. And, I started a pretty strong kick once I saw the finish line.

Um, yeah. The finish line.

Balloons. People cheering. An announcer even mentioning my (I assume) push to the end. The timing mat.

I pass the timing mat, turned the corner and proudly slow to a walk. Why isn't anyone else slowing down? Then, a voice: "Don't stop now! It's not over yet!" I look up. Oh, man. That wasn't the finish line!

I kick it back up and push. Hard. So hard that I'm a bit nauseated and can't think of stopping to let someone clip off my timing chip, and walk around a bit before returning and stopping for a kind woman to retrieve the chip.

OK, so at least I never intentionally gave up running. I'll have to forgive myself my faux pas. Besides, it gives me an easier PR (personal record) to break at my next race. Next time I'll be sure to look for that big sign showing the time as you finish before I stop. Oh yeah, that. Small clue that you're actually at the finish line.

After grabbing a drink, I returned to the finish line to cheer on my friends (and others) as they finished, basking in the glow of a race well run.

Oh, you want to know how I did? Well, my Garmin reported 38:45. Woohoo! A sub 39 minute 5k for someone who couldn't run 30 seconds not too long ago. Sub 13-minute mile splits on a 5k for someone who got a doctor to write a note excusing her from all running in elementary school (and beyond).

A few days later, my official time changed the sub-39 minute 5k, but didn't change the sub-13-minute pace. The timing chip reported 39:15. I don't quite know why there was a difference. That's still a 12:40/mi pace. I won't complain.

I was also 42nd in my age group, out of 61. Hard to say where I really placed, because they lumped 5k walkers in with 5k runners. I suspect that I was 42nd out of 43. :) Overall, I was 347th out of 543 5k walkers and runners.

It was a very good day.

This is not a hill!

Seriously, that's what they painted on part of the ride I did yesterday! (Notice that I said "did", not completed. More on that later.) There I was, cruising along, looking occasionally for the little green painted arrows on the ground, when I saw those words (or similar words) fly beneath me.

Hmmm... Sure felt like a hill. Sure, a very shallow hill that's more of a flat molehill, but a climb nonetheless. However, it's understandable that, when you're hosting a "No Hill Hundred", you certainly should deny any knowledge of any hill-like presence.

Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain.

Actually, the notice really made me chuckle as I stood on the pedals and climbed virtually effortlessly. I'll also admit that standing to climb was probably really overkill for that little non-hill.

The whole ride, including the not-a-hill-hill was really very, very enjoyable. From the human bike stands at the first rest stop for the metric (yes, you read that right: metric), to the very friendly volunteers, to the riders of all shapes, sizes, ages, and bikes, to the uncrustables they served at one of the rest stops, and even to the smiling and waving Search and Rescue folks providing SAG suport, my first official ride was a pleasure.

Let me amend that: it was wonderful until mile 54. I didn't bonk; I had plenty of energy. I'm not even positive that I started out too fast, though I'm considering it. I think my body just wasn't ready for 61 darned miles. My quads were in serious pain. I'm not saying they were sore, or cramping, or even a bit tired. They ached so badly that I had to take a break every one to two miles, watching my Garmin every foot of the way. I had to keep negotiating with myself just to go a little further, then I would take a break. This was also after I had slowed down to 10-11 mph, down from my 14-19 mph for most of the ride.

When I almost broke down into tears at the thought of the remaining miles, I made the decision: take a shortcut. You're here for fun, I told myself, not competition. Heck, there wasn't a mass start, and the only one with any knowledge of your time is you. If you're miserable, then there's absolutely no one who will benefit. Your longest ride this year, for heaven's sake, was only 25 miles, and you haven't ridden for weeks! Be proud of what you did, and finish with a smile.

So, openly announcing it to some who passed, and nodding to those who saw me going the opposite way from the route, I took a shortcut back. My total distance was 60.92 miles. I'm not ashamed at all. It was just shy of the ride's planned 61-point-something. (Yes, that's a bit shy of a true metric, so sue them and me.)

In case you're wondering how a shortcut only shaved off a fraction of a mile, let me go back to the beginning of the ride: we got lost. Yes, lost. I was blithely following a few riders, chatting along the way, when we saw a sign that said "no outlet". Really? That's pretty odd, since we just began. They kept going, and I turned around. (Heck, they saw the same sign I did, and even commented on it.) We had missed a turn. That's when I started looking for the green pavement markings religiously and checking my cue sheet obsessively. We also added about two miles to our trip.

So, that's why my shortcut still took me to nearly 61 miles.

Not bad. Not bad at all. And yes, I finished with a smile.

Next week: my first 5k. (Oh yeah, my other milestone of the past week: I ran three miles without stopping for the first time on Wednesday morning. Race day, here I come!)

Oh, more good/neutral news: My weight at this time is 205.3 pounds. That's back down 1.3 pounds from last week. This is making me think: perhaps I should stop counting calories temporarily and start listening to my body. If I'm maintaining my weight despite what I think is significant overeating, maybe my body's telling me something my brain is ignorant of: I need more food. I'm not saying that I'm going to do it, but I'm-a-thinkin': maybe it's time to intentionally put the obsessive calorie counting on pause. If I do take an official break (trial separation?) from my scale and calorie-counting software then, of course, I'll have guidelines to get adequate nutrition from fruits, vegetables, and all that other healthy stuff.

It's really food for thought, ahem, so to speak.

OK, onward and forward. I'll see you again next Sunday, if not before.

(Oh, and though I'm not responding directly lately, thanks to everyone's encouraging words and patient tolerance of my little tantrum. They really mean a lot. Seriously.)

Oh, one last thing: I fit into the skinniest jeans in my closet today. The last time I tried to put them on, I couldn't get them around my hips. OK, so they may have been a teenie-bit too tight. But, who cares? They fit, darnit, and I could breathe, move, and even walk around downtown. Yeehaw!

OK, I'll stop babbling now. :)

Checking In

OK, my temper tantrum is officially over, but things still haven't magically gotten better. (And, no, I'm not quitting. I realize that my parting comment last Sunday was a little unclear. I didn't mean that I was leaving. I meant that I'm not myself lately, and that the real "me" will be back some day. Of course, it's the same me, just not as successful and a bit grumpier.)

OK, so let's see how I'm progressing on my IAP. I told a co-worker about it, by the way, who then responded, "But, Karen, you know that Special Education doesn't work, don't you?" Um, yeah. Big help there, thanks. (Actually, this co-worker and I have a habit of razzing each other. And, since our jobs are both virtually inexorably tied in Special Education, I could almost see the bulge left by his tongue hitting his cheek.)

Anyway, drum roll, please:

Healthy Eating: 8 points out of a possible 28. That's 29%.
Exercise: 5 out of a possible 24. That's 21%.

Yowzers. Ouch. OK, let's think about this. It could be much, much worse. It could have been 0% and 0%. Let's give credit where credit is due. I haven't quit, and - despite a rather ugly little fit - I'm still trudging on, albeit nearly as slowly as molassis at absolute zero.

So, where to go from here? Let's see... In Special Education, when a student doesn't make a goal, we have two choices: modify the goal or keep shooting for the same goal. Since I'm a slow, stubborn learner; I'll keep the same goal. So, two weeks from today I'm looking to hit that 40% mark in both areas. OK, let's compromise: one area.

Since a relative is coming into town and will be able to babysit my dog, thus freeing my schedule a bit more since my roommate went out of town, I think this is totally do-able.

One revision to my previous IAP: Wednesdays are a free day. Not just a reward day, but a free day, period.

I'm actually pleasantly surprised at how little my weight has changed. Don't get me wrong; it's not pretty. But, it's not nearly as bad as it could be. Two weeks ago: 205.5 pounds. One week ago: 204.8 pounds. Today: 206.6 pounds. OK, yes - that's almost a two pound gain in the last week. On the bright side, that's actually a two-pound loss from four weeks ago, and I've been having difficulty since going back to work in the middle of August.

Ok, you want to hear the punchline? I have two events coming up in the next two weeks. Stubborn as I am, I'm still going to do them, though not nearly as well as I might have otherwise. On Saturday, I'll be riding the metric (62 miles) in the "No Hill Hundred". Very optimistic, I know. But, since I can do a slightly hilly 20 miler, I think a completely flat 62 miles (with SAG support) is within the realm of possibility. Worst case scenario: I find out exactly what SAG support is.

Then, a week from then, I have my first 5k. Yikes! I don't think that it will be the "graduation" 5k that it was supposed to be. Worse yet, I've invited - nay, pressured - people from work to run it "with" (read: well ahead of) me. Well, I certainly can't back out of that one, can I? And, actually, there's a possibility that I might be actually (barely) able to run a 5k at that point in time. I just have to hope that it, too, is very, very flat. Any chance that it'll all be downhill? OK, didn't think so.

Hmmm.. maybe that's a metaphor for my overall transformation. Maybe that's what I'm hitting this past month and a half: a long, ugly hill. And I'll be over the summit very soon. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe not. Nevertheless, eventually.

Glimmer of Hope

Hi there. This is just a quick note to those of you who may have thought I was throwing in the towel yesterday. I wasn't, and I'm not. I'm just frustrated.

I'm writing this having just came back in from a short run (30 min total, including warm-up and cool-down). I actually wasn't planning on running, but I woke up at 3:20 and after trying to go back to sleep for half an hour, I decided, "Why not," gave my dog a bone to keep her busy, and went out for a quick run. Felt good, but I have a headache now, and I'm not sure why. Poor nutrition, perhaps. Too long since my last exercise, most likely.

OK, time to hit the showers.

I'm absolutely p*ssed.

Beware: this is not a happy post. Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.

OK, I've tried everything.

I've pushed myself to maintian my previous levels of activity and healthfulness despite going back to work. I've negotiated reasonable levels.

I've held myself to high standards. I've made concessions.

I've demanded only the best. I've realized that I'll never be perfect.

I have done everything I can think of, and it's not good enough.

Oh, no. Don't get me wrong. This is not a "poor me" post. I am absolutely furious at myself. But it's not making a difference.

I've told others in the past that there may be something deeper and that they should possibly seek professional help when they struggle to make or maintain positive changes. I, however, thought that I had exorcised my personal demons and that I had gotten to the point where there was nothing stopping me from improving my health other than laziness and love of junk food.

So, what's stopping me right now? Why, despite not enjoying the food at all, am I eating junk food? Why, despite knowing that exercise GIVES me energy, am I avoiding it?

I. Just. Don't. Know.

Part of me thinks I should shut down this blog. The few that are still reading are certainly not finding what they're looking for in entertainment/inspiration for the last few weeks. Also, these days, I'm certainly not embodying that "spirit" of athleticism that I wrote about in my first post.

Another part of me says that I should keep the blog up. That whatever state I'm in will pass, and I'll want to look back later on these dark days with fond sympathy for the troubled me.

The second part wins, if only for the glimmer of hope it represents.

So, though the blog will remain, and I plan to post at least weekly, I bid you all a sort of adieu. But, in saying "goodbye", I hope that you will check back occasionally, and that you will return when I do. So, rather than goodbye, I'll use the German phrase that - literally - means until we see each other again:

Auf Wiedersehen.

Special Athleticism

OK, first, since it's Sunday, I should say something about my current status. I've plunged from 205.8 pounds (5-day average) to a shocking... wait for it... 205.5 pounds. Um, yeah. So, I don't think there's any need to post my measurements or any other details. Oh the bright side, I haven't gained any weight.

I'm still struggling in dealing with the "real world" for my activities. Despite my silence, everything did not go smoothly over the past few days. (I'm confessing now. That counts for something, doesn't it?) I'm really having a difficult time in eating properly and keeping active with my work hours.

It recently hit me: if I teach special education, and know to celebrate small steps in my students, why don't I do the same for myself? I mean, really! When we have students who never turn in ANY homework, we may set a goal to have the student turn in 50% of homework. Why can't I do the same thing for myself?

So, in that vein, I'm writing an IAP (individualized athleticism program) for myself. (Students in special education receive individualized educational programs). So, let's run through it.

Present Levels of Performance: I start strong on Sunday or Monday, and fizzle by Wednesday or Thursday, in both activity and healthy eating. For the past two weeks, I've completed 7 out of 24 training activities. That's 29%.

For healthy eating, let's set two "points" per day. I make it within my caloric bounds: 1 point. I eat healthily with reasonable macros and nutrition: 1 point. I do both: 2 points. So, for the past two weeks, I've earned 9 points out of a possible 28. That's 32%.

Strengths and Concerns: Strengths... strengths... yeah, ok. Well, I'm quite the pleasant person and I get along well with others. I rarely run with scissors. Concerns: I'm afraid of continuing slippage and undoing everything I've worked so hard to achieve.

Goals and Objectives: Ok, based on my present levels of performance, I'll shoot for nutritional and activity compliance of at least 40% for the next two weeks. That means completing 10 of my scheduled 24 activities and earning 12 out of 28 possible nutrition points.

Modifications and Accommodations: Hmmm... This is a hard one. Students may received shortened assignments or "time out" passes, but I don't see anything I can steal for my IAP. They might also get preferential seating or a behavior plan. Yeah, can't see anything here. I reserve the right to add these later, though.

Justification of Placement: We, the IAP team, feel that Karen's performance has declined sharply after re-entering the working world this fall. Rather than allowing her to continue this decline, possibly ultimately resuming to couch potato-ness and suffering the shame of needing to pull all of her "fat clothing to give away" back out of the guest room closet, we feel that it would benefit her most to temporarily reduce her own requirements and expectations so that she can develop a base of success from which to build.

There we go. My very own IAP. Special At, here I am.