tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-46856380067548537002024-03-14T12:38:41.127-04:00Iron G in 2015I needed a sherpa just to make it around the block. Suddenly, racing an Ironman (soon) doesn't seem like such a pipe dream. Follow my journey to 2.4 miles swimming + 112 miles cycling + 26.2 miles running, and the 140.6 reasons I find to overindulge in sugary treats.GPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847101316636431975noreply@blogger.comBlogger340125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4685638006754853700.post-48459682679568795452012-01-13T05:35:00.000-05:002012-01-13T11:36:59.035-05:00Oh, that's why they call it 'Fit for Life'!Where was I a year ago? That's right: bummed and tubby from six months non-weight-bearing after that whole broken-legs marathon debacle.<br />
<br />
I burned some crutch weight that November, spinning 2-3 hours a day, running most days of the week, doing boot camp and Tracy Anderson videos, all in an insane effort to win my work's "step challenge." Yeah, I swept the prizes.<br />
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Six months free fitness center was tops. But I wasn't sure about the person training program, "Get Fit for Life," that I'd won. Why did <em>I</em> need a fitness program? I could run. Far. Sometimes fast. And I biked o-plenty and lifted moderately heavy things. I was fit as a fiddle, right?<br />
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Wrong. <br />
<br />
I started working with my trainer, Melissa, at <a href="http://onetoone.case.edu/" target="_blank">One to One Fitness</a> last January. In fact, the <a href="http://onetoone.case.edu/" target="_blank">winter program</a> starts the week of Jan. 16, if you're interested. She did an initial evaluation (i.e., push-ups, heart rate, weight, stair-stepping, etc.) and accepted my insane history. <br />
<br />
First couple weeks were getting-to-know-you workouts — what could I do, what was I willing to do, how hard would I work. It didn't take Melissa long to realize that I'm more than a little crazy and want to be The Hulk, yet still feminine and without Madonna arms. Oh, and I wanted to lose 10 pounds.<br />
<br />
Over the eight-week program, I lost eight pounds, as well as plenty of body fat and inches. Sure, my eating habits changed, my body composition improved and I felt much stronger. I was healthier. But there was much more to this program than the myriad cardio and strengthening exercises I'd take with me and totally deserving new pants.<br />
<br />
Not a second thought was needed for me to buy a training package with Melissa once the program ended. In fact, there's nothing I've felt was a more worthy investment. Ever. <br />
<br />
What's the big deal? Well, backstory: I'm a super-nerd. Like nerdiest to the maximus. <br />
<br />
So, personal training works for me because a) I think correct form is important (for effectiveness and safety) and my trainer keeps me true; b) I like to push myself, but love to be pushed beyond my expectations by someone who knows how far is too far; c) I need to do exercises I hate doing, that hurt the most and that I wouldn't do if she didn't make me!<br />
<br />
Another bonus: weekly appointments keep me on track. My life change <em>a lot</em> this fall and my scheduled wasn't always amenable to my regularly scheduled workouts. But I respect my trainer and my training program. Even if a few days escaped me, I'd look at the calendar and realize Tuesday was fast approaching. It was time to slough off the rust and get working again. Who wants to show up to your training appointment bloated and tired? Not me. So, I never get more than a few days off course. Without training? I could have gotten lost for months before realizing the mess I've made.<br />
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The other nerd factor: I see training appointments as test days. It's my responsibility to work hard all week to perform my best come training day. I value the expertise and support Melissa gives me. The least I can do is work hard on what she assigns and deliver results. After all: this wonderful woman puts up with me, all my self-criticism, projectile sweat and snotting. <br />
<br />
Sure, I don't always perform my best. But she's there to help me understand why and encourage me to power on.<br />
<br />
Then there's, well, everyone else at One to One Fitness. Remember <em>Cheers</em>? Well, it's kind of like that, but less beer and barstools, more smoothies and treadmills. And that hasn't always been my experience of gyms. I love that trainers and staff care enough to talk to me, share their lives as much as they ask about mine and, of course, know my name. If I go a couple days without visiting One to One, I feel like I'm ditching my friends. I miss the spirit in that place. I miss feeling happy and being healthy.<br />
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Yes, it goes even further. Having a crap time at my job last year, I had a couple offers in the corporate world for, well, about 50% more pay than I get here. There were plenty of reasons within my office, the university and a hoped-for future that kept me here. <br />
<br />
But I'd be lying if I didn't think about One to One when making that decision. How would I make it to my training appointments with Melissa? When would I make it to One to One to workout? Could the new job give me an office right next to One to One to make my active life easier? <br />
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It's one seriously dependent relationship I have with that place. And I'm OK with that.<br />
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Silly as it sounds, my being wrong about how much I needed that "Get Fit for Life" program opened my mind about what I really know about other things I need to embrace. Like lima beans and Will Ferrell movies. (Oh, wait... not that much). <br />
<br />
2011 was a trying year, rife with challenges — both fantastic and horribly painful — that I'm sure will pay off in the long run. No matter what happened, I was always anchored to one thing that was always fantastic. And that's the kind of thing — that staple, that assurance — that keeps you healthy all your life.GPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847101316636431975noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4685638006754853700.post-32400348894933064472011-07-25T21:49:00.001-04:002011-07-26T21:12:53.176-04:00Tri, tri again... againRemember when I used to race instead of writing about how I used to race?<br />
<br />
Yeah. Me, neither.<br />
<br />
Well, Sunday I broke the two-year tri hiatus with a sprint at Huntington. It was the usual setup: I'd overdone one discipline and left the other two as problems for "future Gina." I've been running <i>maybe</i> once a week... and let's just say I've only been swimming twice — 2500 yards and 1500 yards — since December 2009. And those were both last week.<br />
<br />
Cycling, however, has been spinning high. I'm biking at least 25 miles every day. I ride a refurbished Centurion LeMans, whose high-grade steel frame is surprisingly light and more than sturdy enough for my daily commute. Throw in a couple panniers, way too much clothes and a 17-inch MacBook Pro in the trunk, and I may as well be riding with a parachute and ankle weights (hello, Jerry Rice!). While I haven't been riding fast — some mornings are harder than others — I've been covering mileage I would have thought crazy a couple years ago.<br />
<br />
You already know I'm going to say the biggest difference has been strength training, which I've been doing five days a week since January. But it's not all about heavy weight-lifting (while there's been plenty of that). Between working with Melissa and Ben, I've done all manner of strength and cardio training that often leaves me questioning their sanity and mine. Although I'm always grateful for it. Like two or thee days later.<br />
<br />
What's the diff? Running: I can feel activation of different muscle groups to get this toosh moving. So much of my power came from the middle of my legs last year — and obviously, it left through the shins. Now most power and impact comes and goes higher in my leg, and when I reach fatigue, my body triggers more action from my hamstrings, glutes and some quad. I have a stronger stride now, a healthier stride. There's plenty of speed and twitch. Now I need just a smidge of mental fortitude back... to replace all the paranoia that's taken over my will.<br />
<br />
Swimming: well, I up and swam 2500 yards like it was nothing, without so much as looking at a pool for two years. It felt fine. It probably wasn't as fast as two years ago, but I'll take it.<br />
<br />
All this in mind, I considered Huntington my walk-through tri. It was my "cross-training-only" tri. During a year I'm trying to take it easy, I could afford (ego-wise, that is — I'm not exactly going anywhere with my racing "career") to take a test ride. So, I did.<br />
<br />
But not without a whole slew of reservations. Which bike should I ride? Could I do the swim? What should I wear for the swim? When was the last time I ran? Have I done a brick workout this decade? Right up through the ride to Bay Village, I was questioning why and whether I should be doing this stuff again.<br />
<br />
Then I got smacked with the magic of triathlon. The people, the energy, the bike porn. <i>This</i> is why I keep doing this schtuff:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2swl7dSs0ZDn8vZ5PXK2wnbMDjmStBms1eLH2cQRLckZwfifH_somHOcn_LIR5VjG0Iqjv810Mi7bFDTwUdMwVcGHTEOEJC8Ts5mvaciQKg2-GL-qe0dkHNNQu3KSI3LrRwIh0KF4S3EY/s1600/hunt1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" alt="Huntington Beach pre race" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2swl7dSs0ZDn8vZ5PXK2wnbMDjmStBms1eLH2cQRLckZwfifH_somHOcn_LIR5VjG0Iqjv810Mi7bFDTwUdMwVcGHTEOEJC8Ts5mvaciQKg2-GL-qe0dkHNNQu3KSI3LrRwIh0KF4S3EY/s400/hunt1.png" width="500" /></a></div><br />
Lake Erie was pristine and perfect. My friend Katie was waiting, ready and raring to rock her first duathlon. My dad, NB and his sister KB came out at 6 a.m. to cheer. And it made my morning to hang with <a href="http://trisaratopsimadventure.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">TriSaraTops</a> on the beach before the start (you're such a rockstar, lady!). I warmed up in perfect-temps water and was ready to go, go, go!<br />
<br />
But then we had to wait, wait, wait. <br />
<br />
I think blue-capped, 39-and-under ladies were the fifth wave, beach entry. Run-ins always give me nerves, mostly because last time I raced Huntington I got punched in the face so hard my goggles exploded, and I swam the quarter-mile, panicked, delicate and slow, like an old lady wearing curlers, trying not to get her hair wet. Lucky for my nerves, however, this beach start went single file, all across the shore. I took the way-inside, ran in and stayed back from kicking feet and flailing hands. No-contact start. Rawk!<br />
<br />
I swam calm, warm-up speed to the first buoy and readied for my open-water panic moment (that's where I hit the parallel stretch and freak out). Sure, I felt strong, but I had to take a couple seconds breaststroking to calm myself. Then I tore it up.<br />
<br />
Not that I'm in peak shape, but I felt stronger than swims of old — as if I could swim forever, even if it wasn't very fast. There was a pretty decent group of blue caps ahead of me. As I rounded the final buoy, though, I decided no one left in the water was going to beat me. So, I picked them off, one by one, until I ran out of the water in 8:33. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7bUo9jPbz65CoXDCESM_JH81GI7ipTvGH3E5RHmWBrtKRi5lA8nAnanRgIeNSva5qpGZnPf2ax9E1B6veP16eNZozUsw-fj4OpstIJlUoYB4MVsljXsMqsweUsRx6N7EulNwsaoe4dj6r/s1600/hunt2.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" alt="Running out of the water at Huntington" width="500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7bUo9jPbz65CoXDCESM_JH81GI7ipTvGH3E5RHmWBrtKRi5lA8nAnanRgIeNSva5qpGZnPf2ax9E1B6veP16eNZozUsw-fj4OpstIJlUoYB4MVsljXsMqsweUsRx6N7EulNwsaoe4dj6r/s400/hunt2.png" /></a></div><br />
Not my best swim, but a great ROI, all things considered.<br />
<br />
Then the bike. I'll start by saying I pedaled a race-PR 40:25 for 12.2 miles (18.1 mph). So, at face value, I'm pretty happy. But here's how it went down...<br />
<br />
First, I brought the wrong helmet (big ol' Bern instead of the Specialized racer), forgot to put on my watch, didn't bring water and then, a couple minutes into the ride, my seatpost dropped all the down, so I felt like I was riding a beach cruiser! I was riding pretty hard, nevertheless, and even took out some serious sprints to set up a couple rabbits to pace me. Let's forget about the SUV that nipped my arm, driving too close at a turn, and we're thinking this is going to be one helluva a ride.<br />
<br />
And it was. I was FLYING! We cut into the woods, where it was dark, damp and dense. Lots of questionable passing, hard-ass riding. Then I heard some catty back-and-forth about passing, get-out-of-my-way, left-left-left! This tall, super-skinny biotch was flying through the woods spitting a lot of back-and-forth with another rider. They were fast approaching my pack, when the biotch cut off the other rider hard and sent her flying. Lucky for her, she fell mostly in mud and didn't impale herself on any branches. Unlucky for her, she just bashed her head on a tree and none of the 10 riders in eyeshot were stopping. <br />
<br />
It was a packed course, so I had to stop super fast. Well, it was wet and narrow. I started skidding and my bike spun out into the mud. I twisted my knee and kicked out the bike before I took most of the impact on my left hip and arm. Let's just say, it didn't feel great then; it feels worse now. Thankfully: minimal scraping! I got her feet out of clips and pulled the bike off her. She said she felt fine to stand up, so I gave her water, made sure she had no telltale signs of internal bleeding or head trauma, and took off to tell volunteers there had been a crash. <br />
<br />
While I'd lost a few minutes, I rode pretty pissed for a few miles, livid that only one person in a very amateur triathlon would stop for a very serious crash. Good bye, faith in humanity! God forbid you miss out on an age group medal while someone lay dying. Grr.<br />
<br />
By bike's end it was just plain hot outside. I reported the accident, changed shoes, <i>finally</i> slugged down some water and took it easy for 5K. Note to self: brick workouts will be helpful in the future. Most of the run was pretty shady, running out and back on an all-purpose Metroparks trail. It was way awesome to see Katie wrapping up the back end of her 5K, catching sight of Sara and even seeing where the cycling rabbits were. I finished with some uphill kick (thanks, Ben, for those 10% grade quarter-mile sprints!) in 26:26 (8:32 pace) for a total time of <b>1:22:52</b>. Hear me roar.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1LUyrJ9FrnWIPUM3ljUwHUFfi0swPBWlWnDkbjEN6V9VMz31yPzqu40x0DlskI77oSKfMNxotwll8KMZqgN7spnfBaRmTmeQnNNO7TiofyHebGNkWuGazDeCW6LW4zxkpZiGwUdHUaXzk/s1600/hunt3.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" width="500" alt="flex" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1LUyrJ9FrnWIPUM3ljUwHUFfi0swPBWlWnDkbjEN6V9VMz31yPzqu40x0DlskI77oSKfMNxotwll8KMZqgN7spnfBaRmTmeQnNNO7TiofyHebGNkWuGazDeCW6LW4zxkpZiGwUdHUaXzk/s400/hunt3.png" /></a></div><br />
Katie and I celebrated the wonder that is racing (and the wonderfulness that is Lake Erie) with a post-race swim, plenty of cookies and plenty of good intentions for next-race preparation. Lessons learned: pack better, run more and bring water. At least I don't need to remind myself to have fun.<br />
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Next up: Greater Cleveland Triathlon, probably Olympic distance. I was pretty gung-ho about Rev3 70.3 in September before this race, but the jury's stepped out. They should be back after GCT.GPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847101316636431975noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4685638006754853700.post-68286446512503216272011-04-04T15:58:00.000-04:002011-04-04T15:58:21.339-04:00It's that time of year... again.You know, that time of year I look at the number of weeks left until Hermes, until Cleveland and say, 'aw, crap.'<br />
<br />
Since January I've been working with a trainer at the fitness center on campus (Some catch-up: I ended up winning that step challenge, whose prizes included an eight-week fitness program, six months gym membership and a surprisingly not awkward lunch with my team and some university senior VPs. I'd been loving bootcamp for three months until my work schedule just didn't have room for it. Just in time: the fitness program, an eight-week personal-training deal focused on strength building and weight loss, kicked off in January. I lost my crutch weight — I'm keeping most of it off from week to week — and couldn't remember how I'd existed before working with Melissa. Not only can I do pull-ups and like a gazillion push-ups, I feel better, stronger, fitter overall.) and doing most of my training in the wee a.m. hours or during lunch. <br />
<br />
While my cardio is very sound and strength way up, I can't say I've done the volume of running I'd typically do training for any race — particularly a half. But here I am: April 4, and I've been running 1-2 times a week. I've actually felt very comfortable on the 2-3 long runs I've done over the past month or so. More recently, I've started doing intervals and sprints. Part of me is very surprised how well I've been able to run (very relatively speaking here!) without much training. If nothing else, it's definitely made me a believer in serious strength training! It does leave me wondering what to expect for my races, however. <br />
<br />
On one hand, I'm very determined to lay low this year: I'd like to give my bones plenty of time to get stronger, my muscles time and training to develop and protect my bones. The idea of stress my bones too much stresses me out. And it's not like my racing career is going anywhere. I'm very average. I'm very OK with that. Sure, I'd like to improve in the long run, but not at the cost of walking.<br />
<br />
On the other hand, I feel like I have a whole different kind of fitness now. This time last year, I was in my best racing shape yet (I'm still proud of my 7:40 pace in the Hermes 10-miler!). Looking back at my training schedule, however, I know that I wasn't really running as much as you'd think. There's a reason I got hurt — I wasn't doing the work. Now I'm doing the work, just in a different way. It's less about miles; it's more holistic. Which begs the question: how much was an improvement in fitness last year and how much was an improvement in my mental game? <br />
<br />
Part of me feels compelled to see how well I can race now. The other part knows I've lost far too much mental fortitude. I don't have the ability [right now] to ignore the burn, the pain of pushing myself beyond my thresholds. In fact, I still get flashbacks to bone pain when I run with a certain cadence. I don't hurt; I'm not injured. In my bones, that is. I'm just a big mental wuss.<br />
<br />
Nevertheless, I registered for the Cleveland Half next month. NB's running his first too! I'm so eager for him to experience his first distance race that I keep forgetting I'm running it too (no, we're not running together). <br />
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Part of me wants to put this low-mileage, high-strength training to the test. Seriously: how fast can I go? While I can't expect a PR out of this race, I'm interested to see what I'm made of... now. <br />
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Another part of me, meanwhile, wants to jog it and enjoy every step of being able to run 13.1 miles a year after I broke myself running 26.2. <br />
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A final part of me, the fiercely competitive with no one but myself part, wants to race balls out, as if last year never happened. But I'm happy with whom I've become out of all that leg-breaking stuff. I am stronger. I'm happier. I enjoy running and fitness more. Maybe that doesn't translate to faster. Maybe I need to assess what success means to me this time around. <br />
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Whatever happens, I just want to be worrying about all these things next year around this time.GPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847101316636431975noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4685638006754853700.post-8350840110230275542010-11-22T15:48:00.001-05:002010-11-22T16:08:34.090-05:00Weeks 4-6: Smarten up by being dumb.So, you know about my biggest issue — you know, the "eh, screw it!" problem. It has powered the weighty rollercoaster I've been riding since I was... 15, maybe. <br />
<br />
"Eh, screw it!" is that heartbreaking (but frequently delicious) moment when for whatever reason I overindulge myself into the guilt sweats. It used to be a Thursday-night tradition that would last all the way to Sunday night. But this week, I finally had a break.<br />
<br />
See, I was retaining some serious water last week. Even though I was getting in some incredible workouts, eating way right and feeling fab, I stepped on the scale Thursday morning to see... 129.0. (Insert expletives here.)<br />
<br />
I was crushed! All that work for nothing. Sure, I knew it was a bad week for weigh-ins, but I was hoping for the best. And hope, it turns out, isn't a weightless thing. That and fem cycles weight a ton.<br />
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So, I stood at that crossroads: all that sacrifice and hardwork... and I <i>gained</i> two pounds: do I throw in the towel and be happy with my big butt? Or do I accept that not every week will deliver a weigh-in victory?<br />
<br />
Thursday wasn't so bad. I made test-batch #1 of candied jalapeno-gingersnap bread pudding (it's for Thanksgiving), and only ate slightly more than I should have. But it wasn't a wasted diet day. Then something snapped on Friday. I don't even remember when it started or how it happened. I do remember there being a lot of chocolate, plenty of cookie cake, even more plenty of cookie cake frosting, too many bowls of Cinnamon Life, Crunch bars, 100 Grand bars... and that icky, icky feeling. You don't get more "eh, screw it!" than that.<br />
<br />
It may have just been crazy-lady must-have-chocolate emotions. Exhaustion. Whatever. The difference between this moment and pretty much every other "eh, screw it!" weekend, however, was that I cut it super short. <br />
<br />
I woke up early on Saturday, got eating right from the start. I cut way back in a healthy way on my calories that day (still maxed the protein), drank oodles of water and tea, and completed a challenging day of workouts and housework. Same for Sunday. While I realized all wouldn't be saved by two days of super-behaving, I hoped I'd at least not go up on the Monday-morning weigh-in.<br />
<br />
Efforts rewarded.<br />
<br />
When last I wasn't retaining too much water, I weighed in at 127.4. This morning I was 126.2. So, I'm just a tad behind on my pound-a-week quest, and more than five pounds down from the starting line. I'll take it!<br />
<br />
But "eh, screw it!" faces a seriously challenge this week: Thanksgiving 2010. Not only am I eating the family dinner, I'm cooking it too. <br />
<br />
My bootcamp trainer does a great job of passing on useful diet/fitness info. One of the recent articles was about preparing yourself for the big holiday dinner, avoiding a bulge battle and gearing up to not overdo it. Sure it sounds a little bit crazy, but admitting you have a problem is the first step. Step #2 is doing something about it.<br />
<br />
So, here my now: I will break into the 125's by Thursday morning weigh-in and <b>not </b> weigh more on Monday morning. <br />
<br />
<blockquote>Dear Thanksgiving, <br />
<br />
You will not defeat me this year. You are delicious. But you are my bitch. <br />
<br />
Cheers! <br />
GP</blockquote>GPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847101316636431975noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4685638006754853700.post-62443440128003078802010-11-11T09:13:00.001-05:002010-11-11T09:13:05.464-05:00Week three: Let me hold that water for you.Step challenge reports were due at 5 p.m. on Tuesday, and I was really pumped to turn in 571,504 steps for my team-of-five! The goal is 70,000 steps per person per week; my team averaged 114,300. <br />
<br />
You'll be happy to know I didn't do all the steps for them. They're just awesome.<br />
<br />
What was I responsible for? 204,611. It averages to 29,230/day, which I'd like to take up to 30,000/day this week. While it's easy to pick up 35-40K steps on boot camps days when I cycle for 45-60 minutes in the morning, boot camp for an hour and then run for another 30-45 minutes, less intense days are harder to step up. <br />
<br />
I tried to even out my "rest" days with a pretty intense weekend: close to four hours cycling, plenty of dance cardio, circuit training and aerobics. On Friday I decided to aim for a 100K weekend — 50,000 steps each day — but I only eeked out about 82K. <br />
<br />
The 100K killer was my tight right calf. I'm done taking chances, so I laid off running for the weekend, which would have surely put me over the 100K line. Another weekend is here, and another shot at 100K.<br />
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The problem with 100K, however, is it takes so much time. While I'm used to devoting plenty of time to fitness, 100K might be taking a little more of it than I'm able to give right now. Thanksgiving is fast approaching — I have rooms to prime and paint, curtains to hang and mantels to perfect. At least plenty of those activities have step conversions, so it won't be a total wash.<br />
<br />
What also hasn't been a total wash is the weight-loss plan. I'd pie-in-the-sky dreamed the step challenge would magically melt away pounds, but turns out I still like pie and foods that purposely melt. <br />
<br />
Actually, the diet hasn't been that bad: I had my trainer analyze my nutrition log — yes, I included the sweet binges that I've cut back on ubermuch — and the usual suspect (protein) wasn't appearing in enough of the scenes. I had thought that 50g of protein were sufficient for me; he suggests 60-100g per day for my activity level. Makes sense. <br />
<br />
I struggled the past week to fit in that extra protein without a ton of calories. Sure, you can throw in some balsamic grilled chicken breast, but how many times can you eat that? I made a pretty decent salmon salad and figured other ways to add animal to my diet. <br />
<br />
The problem is I've been really content with what I've been eating the past few weeks (and I don't really like animal). Plus, it's been effective for my weight-loss plan. So, I'm going to try adding a sunny-side-up egg atop my morning oatmeal, continue eating my daily protein bar and gnaw on a chicken breasts in lieu of an afternoon snack. <br />
<br />
All that food adjustment, however, through the pound-a-weight off a bit. My Monday weigh-in was higher, per usual. And this morning I weighed in at 127.4 — 0.2 pound off last week. <br />
<br />
According to my scale and how I feel, I know I'm retaining plenty of water, despite how much water I drink every day. So, I'm going to hope for the best next weigh-in. Just bad time of the month to be weighing myself, I suppose. <br />
<br />
Perhaps by next week I will have given all that water back, stayed on diet track and entered the realm of 126 — a place I haven't visited in quite some time. I welcome you dear random number. I welcome you with open arms.GPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847101316636431975noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4685638006754853700.post-68310516171736908552010-11-02T12:48:00.001-04:002010-11-02T12:50:52.419-04:00Week two: three parties, one holiday and a C+ performance<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs955.snc4/74861_166996589994768_100000532850922_479701_5571841_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs955.snc4/74861_166996589994768_100000532850922_479701_5571841_n.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>The 10,000 Step Challenge couldn't have arrived at a better time: three parties, plus trick-or-treating over three days. How's that for a holiday test scenario?<br />
<br />
But first, the rest of the week!<br />
<br />
Well, boot camp finally broke me. And all it really took was a bad night's sleep.<br />
<br />
By Monday I was still sore from the previous week's boot camp and at-home exercises. I definitely pushed my upper body and core more than necessary outside of boot camp, and I paid for it that first day. Top that with no sleep all weekend, and I wasn't looking great.<br />
<br />
The circuit was a rough go as it was, and in the final 10 seconds of knee-in planks at the end of a 10:00 ab sequence, I just had to hold plank and pray for the end. I survived, but felt a little wussy.<br />
<br />
You know how they say missing just a little sleep goes a long way? They're not lying. While I picked up some decent hours into Tuesday, I was still operating on a deficit. The same into Wednesday. In fact, when I loped into boot camp on Wednesday, I knew it wouldn't be pretty. It wasn't.<br />
<br />
Let's just say in the middle of suspended push-ups (with feet in suspended straps, alternate knee-in and push up), I had to break — even from holding a steady plank. It always bugs me when people just give up on an exercise, but that was me last week. I just had nothing left. <br />
<br />
I survived that session, nevertheless, and tried to catch up on my zzz's the rest of the week. And by Friday, I was on a better track. I hit the road with a running gang on Friday night — DH, E-Speed, NB and I covered about 4 miles over 10 intervals. It was my first really chilly run, but was a nice warm-up to the rest of the weekends workouts and parties.<br />
<br />
We went straight from the run to party #2 (#1 was earlier that day), wear I arrived dressed as Forrest, Forrest Gump. <br />
<br />
I knew ahead of time this week would be filled with temptations and over-eating obstacles. We took my co-worker out to lunch on Thursday and three parties in store for the weekend, and then candy all over the place on Halloween. Just look at a small portion of the spread from the daytime work party:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFp8oU1RIHEaZq-8GPNbblKVCy9EADLuf0wMTFOZM6wbpMC5R_zcCQv9W_rDoREhv1sj-y4dE6k9FTUJrvx1Ao8Y1QYvaywp_I9E3kAWoR286hmwxaKEZ-XtlG2r6X7UjS8mQV-YLA4HYT/s1600/feast.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFp8oU1RIHEaZq-8GPNbblKVCy9EADLuf0wMTFOZM6wbpMC5R_zcCQv9W_rDoREhv1sj-y4dE6k9FTUJrvx1Ao8Y1QYvaywp_I9E3kAWoR286hmwxaKEZ-XtlG2r6X7UjS8mQV-YLA4HYT/s1600/feast.png" /></a></div><br />
My approach: avoid the sweets/carbs and use a small dish. So, at work I used a small cup for all my food. Typically, I fill a plate with everything at once, scarf and go back for more until my stomach tears and I sweat with guilt. With the cup, I just took one thing at a time, ate and tried a little of something else. It worked really well, and I ate plenty of a deelish broccoli salad and my own butternut squash soup.<br />
<br />
The problem came when I helped with cleanup. I hate throwing away food and found myself just popping extras in my mouth. Bad, bad girl! It wasn't too awful. The three pieces of pizza at party #2 later that night, however, were a little excessive. Even if I did skip the cookies. For the most part.<br />
<br />
Saturday started with the second annual Halloween run in the Metroparks. Jen and Sara took me on my longest no-break run yet, and it couldn't have felt better. Prior to this soft-ground 5-miler, I'd only run one mile sans breaks. They were terrific company and support on the go. It was super, too, to spend a very sensible breakfast (two sunny-side eggs with wheat toast and green tea) with the speedy ladies.<br />
<br />
That 5-miler wouldn't make up for the slightly more indulgent Saturday party #3. I did manage to avoid most sweets (seriously: there were cupcakes there, and I only had one small swipe of frosting off one of Neil's) — I grabbed a couple cookies to eat with some baked apples. It was the uber-fresh pumpernickel bread that did me in. And the spinach dip. Then the spicy guacamole that showed up a little later. So, the carb-ditch didn't exactly pan out at #3. I get a D+ there.<br />
<br />
But where do I get an A-? Halloween. I walked to the store Sunday afternoon and picked up $30 of candy, including a bag of Dove dark chocolate for home. I had one Dove on the walk home and one much later that night. I handed out all the candy, and ate none myself — even when I was sitting by myself waiting for the rush to happen. Not one.<br />
<br />
Sunday was a generally good day on the diet front, and I just crossed my fingers that I hadn't done too much damage. Plus, I ran a pretty consistently paced 5.25 miles @ 9:00 pace on Sunday (well, last mile was 8:13... but that was fun) and walked quite a bit scoping out Halloween scenes in the neighborhood after candy ran dry.<br />
<br />
Whenever I have one party — let alone three! — I wake up on Monday morning and weigh 133-something. That's the norm. That's my party weight. That's my upper threshold. I don't ever want to pass 133, and I was kind of hoping not to touch it again. But I knew the trends. I knew what I had done.<br />
<br />
So, I step on the scale in Monday's dark morning: 129.4. Not too, too bad!<br />
<br />
I realize it's almost a full pound more than last week, but it could have been much worse (and often has been worse). So, I'll take it. Sure, some of it's water weight, bloating, sugar lumps. It still looks like 127 will have to wait for next week. I give myself a C+ for handling these holidays, and plan to tweak my approach for at least an A- Thanksgiving.<br />
<br />
At least I have thousands of steps to help me along the way.GPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847101316636431975noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4685638006754853700.post-21450694415163949812010-11-02T12:07:00.000-04:002010-11-02T12:07:01.975-04:00Make that 33,000 steps, chump.The 10,000 Step Challenge at work kicked off on Monday. After adding up my weekly activities, I decided to aim for an average 20,000 steps each day. Some days are bound to be steppier than others; twice the minimum for fitness seems pretty sane.<br />
<br />
Monday, however, was totally insane! <br />
<br />
I've been cycling 5-6 days a week since September and building up from 10 measly minutes at first to 45 Monday morning. My goal is at least an hour cycling each day, filled with plenty of intervals and high-tension that will get me set for spring.<br />
<br />
It will also get me set for the step challenge! Great thing is that other exercises count too, and I'm using a conversion chart to get credit for my extra activities. So, 45 minutes of cycling? About 9,000 "steps" (45:00 x 200 steps/min). <br />
<br />
Now that's the way to step off on the right foot!<br />
<br />
Unfortunately, I forgot to bring home my pedometer, so I missed the 1,000 or so steps I would have accrued getting into work. But I walked and worked out enough during the day, I think it'll just be a wash (remind me I said that when my team loses by less than 1,000 steps!).<br />
<br />
Sixty minutes of fitness boot camp right after work racked up 10,680 steps (60:00 x 178 steps/min for circuit training), even though six-minutes circuits involving pushing a 35-lb plate across the floor, wall sits and rowing burpies with 20-pound weights seems worth more to me than the morning pedaling!<br />
<br />
Then I ran with E-Speed and DH when I came and walked back to their house for some pretty great steps. My pedometer read for the day was 13,000. <br />
<br />
Grand total: 32,680 steps. <br />
<br />
I figure with the missed a.m. steps I would have hit 33,000, which will be my new active-day goal. Two of my teammates came in with 12,000 and 19,000, so I think we're on solid ground. Go, Team Awesome!GPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847101316636431975noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4685638006754853700.post-79584740934324461412010-10-26T10:40:00.002-04:002010-10-26T10:40:59.169-04:0010,000 stepsRumor has it that it takes 10,000 steps (or the effort behind it) to keep Americans healthy. I think it's roughly five miles. And it's the number I'm looking forward to outdoing every day for the month of November.<br />
<br />
Why, oh, why?<br />
<br />
Because it's a challenge. No, literally: it's a challenge. My department at work is taking on another department to see who's fittest. We're making teams, reporting every day and seeing who steps the most for all of November.<br />
<br />
I don't think I need to tell you how glad I am the crutches are gone!<br />
<br />
One of the best parts of my office is that we're 20+ hyper-competitive people all in one place. Honestly, I can't point to a single person and say, "s/he is a slacker." That's why we hyper kick butt on a daily basis. And there are no tubs, at all. What's more is we all get along. We have really great leadership, and no one's so insecure in his/her job that they need to overcompensate. I think it might be one of the first times in the history of offices that this has happened. In my life, at least.<br />
<br />
So, why am I so concerned about having randomly pulled teams? Yes, the competitive weenie is rearing her wildly untamed head. But I don't want to end up on a team with people who will neutralize my ability to win. I guess I'm just afraid of begrudging someone who doesn't step up for this challenge. Maybe I'll just have to become a good motivator. Maybe I'll have to realize it's just a silly workplace competition.<br />
<br />
Funny thing is the prizes aren't extraordinarily fab. The winning team of the winning department gets lunch with some senior VPs I don't know (I'm not sure that's a reward). The team with most steps picks up a six-month membership to the local fitness center. At least all people over 10,000 steps per day get one-month free memberships.<br />
<br />
Bottom line: i just want our department to win. It's good PR! And we need it.<br />
<br />
While we are currently a department of butt-kickers, we're still plagued by a legacy of bad news and service from slackers past. What better way to win people over than to pile-drive them and drop elbows in a fitness contest?<br />
<br />
I was relieved to hear that the 10,000 Steps Challenge wasn't just about steps and walking. It's an overall fitness contest. So, all my walking, cycling, swimming, circuit and strength training, running, yoga and dance count toward my totals. <br />
<br />
Conversions for non-step activities are done by minute equivalencies. Circuit training, for instance, equals 178 steps per minute. I do a minimum two hours of circuit/strength training each week, so I picked up 21,360 steps. If I run about four hours over the course of the week, it's approximately 48,000 steps or 200 steps per minute. And at least an hour's worth of yoga each week = 600 steps, or 100 steps per minute.<br />
<br />
Bare minimum extra activities minus general daily steps puts me around 17,000 steps. I'm hoping my general walking will push me to my goal of 20,000. And worry not: I fully intend to do all of this without breaking myself. Just a few hearts.GPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847101316636431975noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4685638006754853700.post-33606240622241377502010-10-24T22:07:00.001-04:002010-10-25T09:36:24.623-04:00Week one redone.No, you weren't the only one sick of the tubby talk. I can't promise it's over. I can believe the worst has passed. (Knock on wood.)<br />
<br />
And now for something mildly different.<br />
<br />
It had been 10 days since I ran when I hit the road on Saturday. A couple weeks ago I felt a sharp pain in my shin during some cardio. And, well, I hate crutches, so i dropped the impact and took to the bike.<br />
<br />
I also took to fitness boot camp. <br />
<br />
If you dropped by my tweets last week, you caught that boot camp day one didn't blow mind as imagined. Sure, I had some slight soreness two days later, but I was looking for a royal butt whooping. On the plus side, I discovered that I wasn't remotely as out of shape as I feared. Four months off wasn't a strike out.<br />
<br />
Day two was a little more intense, and I can still feel the soreness in my inner arms. It starts with 30 minutes of an intense circuit/interval model, followed by 30 minutes of plyometrics and ab work. Yoga, it turns out, does make you a fitness all-star. I'm grateful, though, for the extra work on my back muscles, which I've neglected since spring.<br />
<br />
While it's only been two days, I feel more in touch with my muscular structure. My larger muscle groups definitely feel worked and some of the middle groups have burned as well. <br />
<br />
I've tried to maintain a miniature version of Tracy Anderson mat work going at home to continue toning and getting in touch with my smaller muscle groups. I really dig Tracy Anderson and think this break for boot camp will make my heart (and butt) grow fonder.<br />
<br />
Saturday, however, was the first time I had run since the sharp shin pain and since the start of boot camp. Would I have lost too much fitness? Would the pain return?<br />
<br />
No and no. <br />
<br />
I ran a warm up mile straight (sans walk breaks) around 9:30/mile and didn't want to die. Not even a little bit. Then I turned up the heat. <br />
<br />
After 1:30 walk break, I continued with 2:10 run, 1:30 walk for about 4.5 miles. My muscles were happily loose and warmed up, so the 7:33-7:58 pace for those 2:10 segments felt just right. Typically I wouldn't have pushed that tempo, but I was so deadset on not checking pace (and getting discouraged) that I just ran with it. And run I did.<br />
<br />
I followed up with stretching and light massage. The only quirk was tight hamstrings when I cooled down—probably a product of last-man-standing split lunges last Wednesday.<br />
<br />
We didn't push it so hard today when NB and I ran 3.25 in 2:20/1:30 intervals around 8:30-9:00 pace. It was my first two-in-a-row since spring. We'll see on Monday—during boot camp, probably—how my body reacts. <br />
<br />
I also biked intervals today for 30 minutes and will try to catch some pedaling in the morning before work. <br />
<br />
It's like my own little last-G-standing sequence. And I'll be standing on the scale Monday morning for the Week one's results.<br />
<br />
UPDATE: Monday weigh-in read 128.6, which is a little lower than expected. Was I chock full of water last week? Did I lose too much water this weekend? Three pounds in one week seems a bit much (well, I'll still take it). This is where the late-week weigh-in comes in handy. But I have to manage my expectations. See, I'm wary of accepting lower-than-expected weigh-ins because they jerk my expectations... and set me up for a setback weigh-in later, which will lead to a "screw it" moment. Perhaps I can find a way to be banned from the train.GPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847101316636431975noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4685638006754853700.post-90031659879949007442010-10-20T07:17:00.000-04:002010-10-20T15:18:04.555-04:00I know certain things.When I was 15, I recognized something out loud: I know that I know nothing; I know I have plenty to learn.<br />
<br />
Sure, it may sound simple, maybe silly. Profound or not, it was a big step for a teenager. And it's that <i>wisdom</i> that has helped me learn a lot over the years. Granted, one of those things was not stop running when your legs are broken, but I digress...<br />
<br />
You think I babble too much about fitness and losing weight? Well, step inside my head. Whole new world in here. The hardest part about fitness, race-training and weight loss is that I know what I'm doing. I know what I'm talking about. I know how to achieve what I want to achieve. I just don't do it. Not necessarily that I <i>won't</i> do it. I just don't.<br />
<br />
What's even more difficult is that I can see myself not doing what I need to do <i>before</i> I commit my sins. So, I'm in full power to stop myself, stay on track and meet my goals. But, again, I just don't. It goes back to the "eh, screw it" problem. I take one piece of chocolate and, eh, screw it! I have 17. We could go on about addictive eating, but I think it's more than that. As in: my head's way more screwy than an addictive eating disorder.<br />
<br />
See: I don't eat compulsively. I don't necessarily eat when I'm angry or bored or happy or sad. I eat normally and then hit on something really good and BAM: <i>screw it!</i> It's an excuse. I eat something really tasty, and instead of enjoying it in moderation, I give myself an excuse to overindulge.<br />
<br />
Now, this wouldn't be a problem if it happened over the holidays. Or even just special occasions. No, no. To me Tuesday is a special occasion. So is Wednesday morning. Wednesday at 2 p.m. Wednesday at 2:15 p.m. You get it.<br />
<br />
Can I control myself? Absolutely. Do I? Absolutely not.<br />
<br />
Monday was Day 1 of boot camp. It was fine. I learned that the average person is mind-blowingly out of shape. I was relieved to find that, somehow, I'm not!<br />
<br />
It was a good 30-minute circuit session, followed by another 30 minutes of burpees (a.k.a. sun salutations for wimps) and other plyometrics. I broke a tiny mist of sweat while other people were wheezing and breaking quarter way through. I'm not patting myself on the back. I'm just being flabbergasted. Yes, I pushed myself. Yes, I tried hard. It's just that I've been going fast, hard and furious for four years. So, even in my bad shape, I guess I'm not so bad. (Insert sigh of relief.)<br />
<br />
My personal trainer for the month told me I'd probably feel some soreness in my abs, legs, triceps and back. Good for me it was just my back, which has need some strength attention. Check!<br />
<br />
The other thing PT helps with is nutrition. He asked that I log my nutrition for 2-3 days. He's going to examine and let me know what I'm doing right or wrong, what I should add or subtract, what else I need to do.<br />
<br />
I laughed to myself when he said he'd help me with nutrition. For long stretches over the past four years, I've logged my food. You'd be surprised to hear that I'm actually an impeccable eater. About 98 percent of the time, I'm uber healthy and balanced. A recent blood exam showed I was super healthy on all my levels.<br />
<br />
It's just that other two percent of the time—when I'm scarfing cupcake dozens, eating my dough than baking cookies, trying out new frostings, loving the whole jar of dark chocolate almond butter <i>with</i> NB's caramel over apples—that makes my butt huge. So, I laughed because if you look at my food log, the problem areas wouldn't jump out more if they were written in red marker. Here's how I imagine the conversation going:<br />
<blockquote>PT: "So, GP, I see that you maintain a healthy balance of low-carb, high lean protein and low fat mini meals throughout the day. But what's with this 17 pieces of chocolate on Tuesday afternoon? Or the quart-sized bowl of guacamole and... how many chips? And what about these four gourmet-sized cupcakes on Sunday? Seriously?"<br />
<br />
GP: (sheepish grin) "Want a slice of cake?"</blockquote>I'm not sure if knowing what to do and not doing it is better or worse than knowing nothing at all. It certainly doesn't help my attitude when some other know-it-all tries to tell me to "just start exercising" or "just eat this way." I know. I just don't.<br />
<br />
All this recent following a method or joining boot camp is really just my way of getting someone else to tell my things I already know... in the hope that I'll listen and do it. It's no secret that I aim to please. I've had goody-goody A-student syndrome all my life. Perhaps that need (or the threat of shame—I respond well to that too) to please or to be held accountable will break down something in my head. Even better: in my actions.<br />
<br />
All that not knowing I knew about when I was 15 has helped me get where I am today. Too bad I didn't I wanted to lose 15 pounds back then. If I'd lost a pound a year starting then, I'd be done by now. And I'd have to blog and something more mundane than weight loss, like... nevermind.GPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847101316636431975noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4685638006754853700.post-35995427934068038262010-10-18T06:31:00.000-04:002010-10-18T11:54:29.268-04:00Weight loss re-redux.Last night's post was a little bit more whiny than I like to be. My first thought was to delete it, but sometimes it helps to keep remembrances of stupidity past.<br />
<br />
For the final last time I'm starting this weight train again. Seriously. No, no... more serious than the last time I was serious about being serious about it being the last last time. Hold me to it!<br />
<br />
Each time I start over I feel that the week's weight-loss sins were <em>less bad</em> than the week before. Sometimes it's just falling into a party of the too-good chef. Sometimes it's feeling like they might never make ganache this good for the rest of time. Sometimes it's waking up on Sunday morning, feeling light, healthy and on track, like you've lost five pounds, only to find you've actually gained two to three.<br />
<br />
Yep, that last one was yesterday.<br />
<br />
Talking to Monica today helped me re-get my head on straight. I told her about yesterday's weigh-in (132) and the "eh, screw it!" trip to the cupcake shop that ensued. Not that I want other people to have my habits, but it made me feel like less of a weight-loss failure when she said she shared my screw-it experience. It's nice when other people do the things you think are a little kooky. Like talking to yourself. Or posting way too much about yourself online.<br />
<br />
We also decided that we'd both be fine if we could just grow upward a few inches. Something tells me I'd be cool with the daily caloric needs of a 5'8 girl. Maybe even a 6'0 guy. This 5'nothin' gig is the pits!<br />
<br />
So, last night, after I finished at least half the jar of dark chocolate-almond butter my dad gave me and the tub of caramel I picked up for NB, I decided that this was it. The it of the it of the it. No more screw-it binges. Even if the scale doesn't agree with all the food I haven't been eating. I just have to stick with the plan.<br />
<br />
And as chance would have it: boot camp starts today!<br />
<br />
Long story short: I signed up for Cleveland Fitness Boot Camp because of a discount. It couldn't have come at a better time. One hour, three days a week. I'm really looking forward to someone kicking my ass. Three times a week.<br />
<br />
Not that I can't kick my own ass. Another thing Monica and I discussed was our ability to exercise our butts off... without our butts going anywhere. It irks me to itches when someone tells me I "just need to exercise" or "just need to stick to get in some cardio" to lose weight. Because 50 miles a week on two fractured legs is symptomatic of a lazy doof.<br />
<br />
I may have other problems, but laziness is not one of them.<br />
<br />
Discount aside, I hope boot camp will give me some new perspectives on exercise <em>and</em> nutrition. There are obviously some serious gaps in my brain on those fronts. Plus, it's always invigorating to get a new workout, a new challenge. The only thing I'm worried about is explaining my need to be careful of impact intensity without sounding like a weenie. You know by now that I, umm, have a problem with being stupidly intense. How do you explain that you need to tone down the crazy in a boot camp? Aren't we all there to be crazy?<br />
<br />
It might also help my plan to go someplace where they'll mark my progress — as opposed to the failed social experiment of posting my weight online. I operate on accountability. Only at boot camp, I won't be editor of the records.<br />
<br />
So, on this day, Monday, Oct. 18, 2010, I draw the line. No more starting over. Just full steam ahead on the weight train. Thanksgiving is just around the corner, and that GP Cup isn't going to win itself.GPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847101316636431975noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4685638006754853700.post-46023167748922665542010-10-17T20:07:00.001-04:002010-10-17T22:25:55.233-04:00Weight-loss redux.Believe it or not, I actually not trying to demonstrate the ups and downs of losing weight. It just comes naturally to me. What can I say?<br />
<br />
I have to blame at least part of it on my parents—once last weekend and again this weekend they've derailed my efforts to have a successful Monday-morning weigh-in. It's not that they don't mean well. They just bring some really good food to the table. And while their fit, trim bottoms have some level of discipline and healthy metabolisms, it appears that neither of those traits is hereditary.<br />
<br />
(Sign two of dieting trouble: denial. When you start blaming other people for your overeating, you have a problem. Don't pass go. Don't collect $200. And don't, for the love of god, eat those cupcakes!)<br />
<br />
My best weight has wiggled around 129 pounds. It momentarily dipped to 128 last week, but then the weekend happened. As usual, I have no problem doing the exercise. I have all the problem not eating when hosted and fed. It's time to start hiding on weekends. Or getting my jaw wired shut when leaving the house.<br />
<br />
So, this week I start the Cleveland Fitness Bootcamp. Because I like gimmicks. And I get a discount for doing it. I'm eager to get my toosh kicked for the next month (blended with my Tracy Anderson Method). Please look forward to an excuse-laden post in two weeks about how I've failed again.GPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847101316636431975noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4685638006754853700.post-49276172376945115132010-09-27T06:21:00.000-04:002010-09-27T11:22:58.080-04:00Time to be a loser.It's going to take some time to shake the paranoia of broken bones on the run. <br />
<br />
I had a slight breakthrough this weekend, however: one of the last workouts I did before Dr. T prescribed crutches was a skipping, galloping, trotting workout on the treadmill. It was lower impact than running and worked my cardio something fierce. But I remember how much I'd have to lift and support myself on one side because my leg would feel unstable (and painful!) with certain motions. <br />
<br />
In retrospect, I know I had a neon sign hanging over my head, pointing to my leg and blinking "broken leg here." Ahh, yes, but denial shines such a blinding light.<br />
<br />
Well, I tried the same workout on Saturday (with much caution). It took me a few minutes to gather the courage to make the first light, very low-impact hop, but I did. And it felt nothing like it did four months ago. Four months ago, my leg felt like it was wobbling beneath me, ready to keel over in all the wrong ways they won't show on television.<br />
<br />
On Saturday, it just felt like a leg — the way legs were meant to feel. <br />
<br />
That short treadmill session really helped me draw a line between "broken" feelings and "recovering" feelings.<br />
<br />
It helped too when I was running on Sunday. I started to feel what I thought was a twinge in my right shin. "Aww, crap!" I thought. "I fractured my bleepin' leg again!" But when I slowed down and focused my attention on my lower legs, I could tell the very, very subtle feeling was occurring on both sides.<br />
<br />
Could she have hurt both legs already, you wonder. No. I was wearing cropped tights and the elastic bottoms were squeezing ever so slightly over my shins. Not in a painful way. Just a gentle, butterfly-flaps-its-wings push or stretch against my skin. And I thought my legs were broken. Ugh.<br />
<br />
One way I'm trying to combat future injury, however, is losing some of this post-crutch tub. I've been following the "Tracy Anderson Method" strengthening exercises for a few weeks. While that chick has all kinds of weird rumors swirling and some bad press, I have been supremely impressed by what this lady can do for your arms and butt in a relatively short time (if only I'd stuck with it this whole time, I'd be a killer babe right now!). <br />
<br />
So, I've decided to be a little more dedicated and follow her 30-day plan to kick-start my lard-busting.<br />
<br />
It's nothing gimmicky; it's just a plan of nutrition, strength and cardio to follow. And I know myself: I need a solidly outlined plan to follow. I also need to tell someone I'm following something so that I actually do it. Thanks for being that someone!<br />
<br />
My objective: I'd like to get back to my healthy, preferred, pre-30th-birthday-pig weight of 120 pounds (yes, I never lost my 30th birthday pig-out week weight and then I hit the crutches... what a year to have my metabolism grind to a halt!). <br />
<br />
I'm 133 today and will report each Monday how I've done with my goal of dropping one pound each week. Which means I should be down to my goal weight just in time for the holidays!<br />
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My complementary goal will be to learn how to eat like a human being and not like a famished boar. Here goes something!GPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847101316636431975noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4685638006754853700.post-65392386935624868872010-09-24T07:24:00.001-04:002010-09-24T15:18:26.517-04:00OK. Go ahead. Call it a comeback.Last Wednesday, I visited Dr. T for my it's-been-four-week-since-I've-been-off-crutches-what-now appointment. My leg, to him, felt remarkably well (I think he's just been surprised all along that I've listened to every word he's said and done everything I've been told) and, he regretted to tell me, I could start running again.<br />
<br />
He regretted to tell me so much when he first said it, I thought he was telling me I couldn't run. Ever. He's probably just sick of seeing me and was sorry to give me a reason to be back too soon!<br />
<br />
As in recovery, however, I will be in shape-up. So, here we go!<br />
<br />
I was given very strict directions: every other day I could run 2:00, walk 2:00 in a gradual build-up to 32:00. Once I hit 32:00, I could start lengthening my run time, slimming my walk time. Here's how that's gone:<br />
<br />
Day #1: 16:00 total, 4 x 2:00 at 9:35-11:10 pace with 2:00 walking recoveries. Can I tell you how incredible it felt to run for the first time in four months? I would have felt like I was flying if every step weren't hampering by the fear my leg would snap in half! Distance: 1.32 miles<br />
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Day #2: 20:00 total, 5 x 2:00 at 9:15-11:38 pace with 2:00 walks. Still loaded with paranoia, but let go, responsibly, just a touch. Distance: 1.60 miles<br />
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Day #3: 25:00 total, 6 x 2:00 at 8:46-10:51 pace with 2:00 walks (and a 3:00 walk to end). I haven't checked my pace even once while running. I'm just running by feeling and not pushing one bit. If anything even starts to hurt, alarms trigger so loudly I stop right away. But breaking 9:00 for the first time didn't ache a bit! Distance: 2.04 miles<br />
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Day #4: 30:20 total, 7 x 2:20 at 9:19-9:47 pace with 2:00 walk recoveries. OK: I didn't make it to 32:00 before ramping up. But the extra :20 was enough to make me run more focused and even, hence the more consistent paces. Distance: 2.55 miles<br />
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Day #5: 33:00 total, 8 x 2:30 at 8:01-9:00 pace with 1:40 walk recoveries. Not a bad experiment. Again, not checking pace while running. But after a couple weeks' worth of Tracy Anderson strengthening, I was feeling, well, strong. While I didn't push the intensity, I did slug either. Did I slap my hand for running 8:00 pace? Sure. Did it feel great? Absolutely. But I'm trying not to do it again soon. Distance: 3.06 miles<br />
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Day #6: 37:20 total, 8 x 2:40 at 8:10-9:38 pace with 2:00 walk breaks. I returned to the 2:00 walks because too short recoveries, it seemed, didn't really work as recoveries, per se. Just momentary slow-downs for me to run faster the next rep. And I'm not there yet. It's funny, though, how 2:00 now seems to last an eternity, but when I was doing 400M sprints, it was a blink. Distance: 3.31 miles<br />
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And that was this morning. Today was the first time since May I was able to drag my mopey butt out of bed pre-work and run as the sun was rising. I'm feeling a little sad about missing the whole summer, about not running Akron tomorrow, about spending most of year #30 momentarily disabled. <br />
<br />
On the plus side, I can do one thing: sing Radiohead's classic "You do it to yourself" and know that in the future I can stop myself from feeling this way. By not breaking my own bones training in stupid ways. <br />
<br />
And it will be an ongoing challenge: I'm planning on racing the Pigskin Classic 5K as my first race (it's Ohio State-UM weekend some time in November), followed by the GP family cup at the Turkey Trot on Thanksgiving. <br />
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The true comeback, however, will be realized in May: the Cleveland Half. Not only is it one of my favorite races, Neil has agreed to train for and run it with me. Granted, the way he's been running, he'll hand me my butt at the finish line. But I'm looking forward to responsibly training for that not to happen.<br />
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Challenge: accepted.<br />
<br />
<object height="340" width="560"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/vimZj8HW0Kg?fs=1&hl=en_US&color1=0x3a3a3a&color2=0x999999"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/vimZj8HW0Kg?fs=1&hl=en_US&color1=0x3a3a3a&color2=0x999999" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"></embed></object>GPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847101316636431975noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4685638006754853700.post-68883487923883995752010-08-17T22:07:00.004-04:002010-08-17T22:13:22.623-04:00It's kind of like Christmas Eve......except I'm hoping that by this time Wednesday I'm <span style="font-style: italic;">not</span> Tiny Tim. <br /><br />I'm looking forward to being a normal human being again—even if that means I can't run a while longer.<br /><br />It'll be nice to walk on two feet again. To not draw attention to myself whenever I enter a room. To be able to sneak up on people again.<br /><br />But I really don't know what to expect. Is six weeks enough for these fractures to heal? I guess I'll just prepare for the worst and hope for the best. Even if imagining another couple days on crutches makes my stomach turn. I'll try to stop listening longingly to Neo on the treadmill too.<br /><br />No visions of sugar plums tonight. Maybe I can still hope for a Thanksgiving race.GPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847101316636431975noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4685638006754853700.post-14336675871573576042010-08-05T22:32:00.006-04:002010-08-05T23:50:06.561-04:00Seriously: for whom do they make these things anyway?I admit it: I went a little crutch-crazy the first week I was on the sticks. But it just took one mention of bone spurs by my mom to slow me down.<br /><br />I've stuck mostly to mat workouts and pretty easy going (at least I'll have plenty of weight to lose when all this healing is over... oh, wait, that's not a good thing?) the past few weeks. With respect to exercise, that is. I've still had plenty of places to crutch at work — the bleepin' bathroom is a few minutes away, my bleepin' car always ends up on the opposite site of the lot and bleepin' Starbucks, well, it's not far at all — and my social/normal life hasn't taken a backseat to fractured legs. I crutched the Tremont artwalk a couple days into crutchville and cheered Neil wildly at Joseph Monastra.<br /><br />It's not high mileage (it's not meant to be), but it certainly isn't using these things as an excuse to be lazy.<br /><br />Which me to wonder: what kind of sloths use crutches these days? Because mine look like this:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic30d_xcWgHxVXUl3u45Osfl4t1rxf4xs_MI_Whr-bqLQY2d9lmetjGK7SSWivqlhPFwty4UhceJaYHQKrtqhOO8l_zbvyHBxdWF2amJzyiKR_0sZKht64rj3yejWzACbfI03NdqlGOo58/s1600/DSCN0048.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic30d_xcWgHxVXUl3u45Osfl4t1rxf4xs_MI_Whr-bqLQY2d9lmetjGK7SSWivqlhPFwty4UhceJaYHQKrtqhOO8l_zbvyHBxdWF2amJzyiKR_0sZKht64rj3yejWzACbfI03NdqlGOo58/s400/DSCN0048.JPG" alt="worn to poop crutch grips" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502121265790194514" border="0" /></a><br />Yep, that's the metal bar tearing through the grip. It was really fun when it finally broke through the rubber — I was crutching through a tiled hallway to PechaKucha Night and the darned thing slid right across the floor, sending me flying. It took me a few days to remember that my mom had left some spare crutches in my basement. So, a few perilous moments followed.<br /><br />Like wiggling into the crawl space to get the crutches (yick!). You can imagine my surprise, though, when I found the spare pair. The arm and hand grips were worn to tears, but the bottoms looked nothing mine:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3UOJD57E_z0pIkLoD5N3ehS-i2Ujiliz2e0n57QcOMESRC4JVce5fTfMQhoSoKA2bA39ChQbkLx92PqAPZ2P0h8lq5GduxlIGq01G206dQqMviMKNTbZBX7JTr1tGXjYkYtTC_GskBLw1/s1600/DSCN0052.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3UOJD57E_z0pIkLoD5N3ehS-i2Ujiliz2e0n57QcOMESRC4JVce5fTfMQhoSoKA2bA39ChQbkLx92PqAPZ2P0h8lq5GduxlIGq01G206dQqMviMKNTbZBX7JTr1tGXjYkYtTC_GskBLw1/s400/DSCN0052.JPG" alt="crutch comparison" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502124438975740818" border="0" /></a><br />Perhaps my definition of rest is a little different than the average crutchist. Anymore rest here and I might suffer cardiac arrest. From sheer boredom and blubber.<br /><br />So, I grabbed a new grip and have been crutching smoothly since. And my skillz as a crutchist are only moving up: not only have I mastered the water-bottle carry and the hot-coffee crutch, I can push a grocery cart while crutching too. It's all about rhythm. What I'm most proud of, however, is that I've experienced no residual pain from my new way to "walk." No crutch chafing. No torquing, turning or burning on the opposite leg. No crutches getting anywhere near my armpits whatsoever.<br /><br />Did I mention I can crutch sideways, backward and through small spaces? Yes, I take my victories wherever I can get them. The downside is at least once a week it totally wears me out. Particularly the work environment. I can't elevate my leg and the bathroom jaunt is a stretch. But it's reassuring that I can keep doing it all.<br /><br />Even if these crutches weren't made for people like me anyway.GPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847101316636431975noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4685638006754853700.post-85853387441371628632010-07-09T14:10:00.003-04:002010-07-10T10:05:21.889-04:00Because my hourlong ESPN special was pre-empted by that basketball guy......I'll tell you now where I've been: Limpville.<br /><br />But first the marathon recap: you know by now that I ran a 10+ minute PR at the Cleveland Marathon in May. It was meant to be a training run in prep for a shot at a Boston-worthy 3:40 at some June race. We dance, dance, danced the night away at Neil's BFF's wedding (talk about a guy who gives a great speech!). I got to sleep around 1 a.m., woke up before 5 a.m. and started running by 7 a.m.<br /><br />It wasn't even 7:30 a.m., however, by the time I stopped running. Shin splints kicked in around 1.5 miles. By two, I was in tears limping on the side before I stopped. Some massaging and ego-kicking later, I ran with the promise that if things didn't loosen by mile ten I was out. Mile five came around, and I started feeling a little better. Around mile seven I realized that my mom and dad were coming out to cheer, and I didn't want to let them down. So, I ran the whole darned thing.<br /><br />The plus side to stopping and then wobbling in tears for 15 minutes in a marathon is that once you get running again, no one passes you for the last 23 miles. At least that's how it worked out for me. I didn't push myself; I just took in the scenery, really enjoyed Cleveland's outpouring of support (big high-fives to the Shaker Heights cheerleaders!) and had a pleasant Sunday-morning long run with water stations and cheering crowds. That's your typical Sunday, right?<br /><br />I felt so great, in fact, I was able to run mid-8's the last several miles, race my dad down St. Clair (around 22-23) and finish with a smile on my face. Things swelled, and I limped to my much-deserved mole-chicken pizza at the Beach Club Bistro, but it was all to be expected. I had run a marathon. My best one yet.<br /><br />Well, it might be the last one. The shin splints, as it turned out, weren't shin splints after all. They were this:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidqxIZjGZrLE6Wl7D_YcsTOE23rEKcQGQor7zee4tl8C1UGBLpOmtsyeqDenCSSA8lRTro8wevi0G5A20EAVTFMhGFiYi8LmuAxjeEvKvYu7fogy5OK-Cxotsb7bqIaxKbJJcQBJjkTcIO/s1600/gpbones.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 282px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidqxIZjGZrLE6Wl7D_YcsTOE23rEKcQGQor7zee4tl8C1UGBLpOmtsyeqDenCSSA8lRTro8wevi0G5A20EAVTFMhGFiYi8LmuAxjeEvKvYu7fogy5OK-Cxotsb7bqIaxKbJJcQBJjkTcIO/s400/gpbones.png" alt="dem bones" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492277736630747746" border="0" /></a>What you're seeing is shots from my MRI. The x-rays, which I don't have, show it better. One fracture all the way down my right tibia, a small crack around it, and stress syndrome occurring on my left.<br /><br />It took me so long to tune out pain of training in my fitness life that I managed to miss distress signals when my body was actually hurt. Poop.<br /><br />I waited about 3-4 weeks before I saw a doctor (not because I was stubborn -- I had run a marathon, of course things were going to feel funky!). There were x-rays, follow-ups, errant radiologists, denied MRI claims and then the final MRI. The pics were so concerning to the radiologist at Clinic Sports Health that he called Dr. T the minute I left the room. Yet, after six weeks of walking on this stuff, I barely notice my leg is ready to crumble.<br /><br />So, you can imagine how rough the first couple days were of being on crutches. Not the actual crutching, but the remembering. Because I walked on them for six weeks, I don't feel the pain of fractured bones. My brain has discontinued its subscription that feeling. It's just some aching.<br /><br />When my leg bares weight, I don't get a pang. I just remember, "shoot... Neil's going to catch me walking and I'm going to be busted!" Horrible, I know. But it helps. By Monday I should be totally trained to not walk like a normal human being.<br /><br />Good thing is I'm OK to crutch around. I crutched about a mile my first night, and it felt amazing to be out, moving and getting in some form of new cardio. Because my left leg has some stress going on, I still need to be careful. So far my crutching isn't quite aggressive enough to yield more injury. Unless, of course you know of any crutch races this weekend....?<br /><br />I'm just thanking my lucky stars Dr. T pushed for more info when radiology told him my leg was fine and that playing tennis last weekend didn't actually crumble my leg. Then I would have had to go through all of that change-of-address stuff again. I don't think I'd be a happy resident of Limpville for long.GPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847101316636431975noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4685638006754853700.post-8050719470135043582010-05-16T13:35:00.003-04:002010-05-16T13:42:03.737-04:004:01:27Here's the scoop: I've had trouble doing my 20+ mile runs (pure laziness), so I decided to register for Cleveland as motivation. Cleveland, it turned out, became the 20+ run.<br /><br />Without much training (as I crossed mile 18 I realized it was only the second time in the past year I'd run so far, and only the third time I'd run more than 15 consecutive miles), rest, proper sleep or healthy eating, I somehow survived. It started out pretty bad -- a little over a mile into the race my shin splints got so bad I limped off to the side in tears and decided to quit... before deciding not to quit -- but I managed to salvage it.<br /><br />And run an 11-minute PR: 4:01:27.<br /><br />More to come.GPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847101316636431975noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4685638006754853700.post-17071874584263439342010-04-28T21:28:00.003-04:002010-04-28T21:35:19.438-04:00Thinking about your worst enemy<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://protoplasm.files.wordpress.com/2009/10/wicked-witch.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 550px; height: 404px;" src="http://protoplasm.files.wordpress.com/2009/10/wicked-witch.jpg" alt="Wicked witch of the west" border="0" /></a><br />IT bands, shin splints, stress fractures and sore quads are nothing. The pain that slows me the most is in my head.<br /><br />No, I'm not talking about migraines (although I struggle with those sometimes too). I'm talking self-inflicted sabotage. The wall before "the" wall. The <span style="font-style: italic;">engine that could but became wholly convinced she couldn't so she took a nap</span>.<br /><br />In my last post, I mentioned all the time I wasted last week pondering my race feelings. Do I like it? Should I be doing it? Should I sit on my lazy butt instead? Thank the angel on my shoulder for winning that battle.<br /><br />It's no secret that racing isn't exactly a massage. But it sure feels great when you're done -- the exercise, the adrenaline, the endorphins, the pride, the camaraderie, the achievement. And fresh off Saturday's race, I have to admit racing a good one doesn't hurt remotely as bad as I remembered. So why all the hate?<br /><br />Honestly, I can't explain it.<br /><br />What I realized today, however, is that tune-up races take the wuss out of your stride. For weeks I had struggled with running my targeted paces. Sub-8's were for sprinting miles. But after Saturday's race, I've felt pretty comfortable running base miles in the low-7's without going breathless the way I might have last week.<br /><br />Is my watch broken? No. Has my fitness changed in a matter of days? No. Apparently proving to my brain that I could run 7:40 over 10 miles was enough to banish the wuss covering the accelerator. Now how can I get that feeling to stick around (and ditch the wuss)?<br /><br />My friend Melissa told me when I first started training that I overthink on the run, and I keep her voice with me still whenever the wuss starts creeping into my head. But all too often the wuss wins.<br /><br />Case in point: a couple weeks ago, I pumped up my treadmill pace to 9 mph without really knowing actual pace. I ran with healthy effort for two miles before the math worked out in my head -- 6:40 pace. Then I started questioning myself. Well ahead of my 5K PR and not even struggling, suddenly I was stumbling over myself. It's as if my brain says "you're not allowed to do THAT!" and my legs comply. It's just not right.<br /><br />After reading Matt Fitzgerald's <a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/0451222326?tag=augustablog-20">Brain Training</a> last year, I've made some serious breakthroughs with mind over matter. But I have such a long way to go. Sure, greater confidence comes with experience. I just need to make sure the wuss on my back doesn't stop me from getting that experience.GPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847101316636431975noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4685638006754853700.post-192866963619559842010-04-25T23:44:00.004-04:002010-04-25T23:51:21.109-04:00Not a perfect 10, but a happy 10.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs314.snc3/28359_386524184662_615499662_3632495_2311945_n.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 280px;" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs314.snc3/28359_386524184662_615499662_3632495_2311945_n.jpg" alt="Tagging my shoes before the race" border="0" /></a>It's been so long since I've been happy with racing that I wondered why I registered for the <a href="http://www.clevelandtenmiler.com/">Hermes Cleveland 10-Miler</a>.<br /><br />Seriously, racing 10 miles this weekend? Is that really the best use of my Saturday morning?<br /><br />One pretty decent 18-miler and a few mid-distance runs aside, most of my outings have been junk since the <a href="http://www.akronmarathon.org/">Akron Half</a>. On Saturday morning I wondered whether I even enjoyed racing.<br /><br />Despite all the negative energy, I made it to the start with <a href="http://eunwithelizabeth.blogspot.com/">ESpeed</a> and <a href="http://notpeppery.blogspot.com/">Salty</a>, and I just wanted to run a healthy race. Beating my PR (1:21) would be rad, but not imperative. Taking a nap would have been nice. But then the gun went off, and I took off at a comfortable pace, weaving among a pretty huge sell-out crowd into the streets of Cleveland near West side.<br /><br />The downside of showing up relaxed and expectation-free: I hadn't thought at all about my approach. A ten-miler is an interesting race. Obviously not a sprint, ten miles isn't a long-distance race either. And while it's twice a five-miler, I consider the intensity closer to a fiver than a half marathon. But where?<br /><br />I decided early to run "comfortable, but not relaxed." It was my mantra. <span style="font-style: italic;">Stay comfortable, not relaxed.</span> And it was easy the first couple miles: start-line adrenaline was pumping, beat of a couple thousand runner's racing feet was bumping. I was content with mile-one <span style="font-weight: bold;">7:23 split</span>, but wasn't sure whether mile two's<span style="font-weight: bold;"> 7:53 split</span> was my final glimpse of sub-8's. Shin splints had come to attack.<br /><br />My race day attire was pretty flawless for the first time ever. Simple dri-fit Nike tee with new compression shorts and socks couldn't have been more breathable and less chafing. And it was the first time I didn't have to spend too much energy tugging at shorts riding up my chunky thighs. Perfect!<br /><br />I'd made the compression-sock investment a few weeks earlier when several people recommended them for my shin splints. Yes, it's spring and the splints were back. I've been treating them with major hill therapy (4-5 mph on the treadmill at 10-12% grade for 2-3 miles) and figured the compression couldn't hurt.<br /><br />The socks have worked wonders for my tibial tendinitis and achilles tenditis (both sides). So, if you see me at work, run, sleep or play, I'm wearing a pair.<br /><br />At this race I donned a new pair of pink compression socks, which were the best pair yet. I swear they squeeze out my morning tibial and achilles aches. Unfortunately, however, they didn't scare away the splints.<br /><br />I started tightening up around the middle of mile two, and then, oh, how the mental battle began! Should I stop? Of course you shouldn't; you should run harder. But this burns something fierce. Yeah, but are your shins going to break? Besides: since when is a race not supposed to hurt?<br /><br />And the devil side was right. Races aren't supposed to tickle.<br /><br />So, I stayed comfortable cardiovascularly, tried to ignore the fact that I have shins, checked out all the pretty houses along Lake Ave and just ran from one mile marker to the next. Pretty soon they were flying by (I even missed mile four!), my splints had eased and I was posting a pretty decent <span style="font-weight: bold;">5-mile split (38:48)</span>, which is just a minute off my 5-mile PR.<br /><br />Then came the wind. I practiced my drafting techniques, skipping from dude to dude, trying to catch some relief from the gusts. It was remarkable what a difference some shield made, but I couldn't stick with anyone long enough to make a difference. Miles 6 and 7 were rough, but didn't turn out too bad: <span style="font-weight: bold;">7:54 and 8:02 splits</span>.<br /><br />One point of confidence I did bring to the race is finishing speed. I've lately take 6-8 miles to really feel warmed up, comfortable and ready to go. And that feeling didn't fail me on Saturday. I crossed the mile 7 marker and was finally off to the race.<br /><br />Three miles? I can run three miles. And so I did.<br /><br />I can't pretend to understand well enough how my body works, but, boy, was it fun to run those final miles. My body felt loose, and I was running a pretty good clip without losing my breath. Mile eight passed in <span style="font-weight: bold;">7:43</span>, and it just seemed too easy. I wished all my miles felt so light. We weaved around neighborhoods and ticked away mile nine in <span style="font-weight: bold;">7:36</span> like I was having a picnic.<br /><br />After high-fiving the volunteers at the last mile-marker and turning onto the curvy bike path toward the finish, I tried to stay comfortable without letting my exuberance peak too soon. The twists and turns helped temper my excitement for the finish, and probably slowed me down more than some of the downhills sped me up, but it was really glee from a ten-miler feeling so darn good that powered me toward the beachfront finish.<br /><br />As I took some of the final turns, I noticed a pink-shirted chica trucking up on my right. I turned on my final quarter-mile jets past her and crossed the <span style="font-weight: bold;">finish in 1:16:47</span> -- a little more than four minutes faster than my previous PR.<br /><br />Oh, did that race feel great. I hugged Miranda, the pink-shirted runner who raced me to the finish, for helping me meet my goal (secretly I wanted but didn't expect to run 1:17). And as I ticked through my watch, I was really proud of my finishing speed. The last twisty-turny mile measured only 0.96 on my watch, but I covered it in <span style="font-weight: bold;">6:46 (~7:04/mile)</span>.<br /><br />ESpeed, who finally rang out her Boston quads, found me fast. We cheered Salty, <a href="http://monicaonthego.com/">Monica</a> and other friends to the finish before catching some killer egg dish from the finishing tent (whoever picked out the egg dish for post-race food should get the Nobel Prize for Awesomeness).<br /><br />It was a strange feeling leaving the race. For the first time in a long, long time, I felt content. Even at the Holy Cross 5K, where I won and picked up a major PR, I didn't feel happy with my race. My Akron Half was really great for me, but I walked away with so many "but"s. Was this race perfect? No. Was it the best I could have run that day? Who knows. Was it comfortable, relaxed, smart, fun and healthy? Absofrickinlutely.<br /><br />It's high time I remind myself that I'm not close to good enough a runner to get down on myself and my running results when they're not what dreams are made of. Am I running to win? Nope. I'm running to be healthy, to challenge myself and, when possible, beat all runners named GP.<br /><br />Racing may not feel fab when you're doing it, but it should feel great when you're done. And, you know, it really does.GPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847101316636431975noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4685638006754853700.post-89102441047033228582010-03-18T22:38:00.002-04:002010-03-18T22:52:48.148-04:00Running hard... or hardly running?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNBPNmEMEDnmvQgWmvC0lOZp0xOcsQR2RVlvFAtM9hF2rkhpbwUGig-9_d10w_-ZGPOM9lTz6lf6W6K2LDAQqaXqlIeSpqL2JF2KR3JZPAIWpApIDB5Y8PgZUuShPHr0qL_RSnG__rbzzB/s1600-h/watermark-3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 212px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNBPNmEMEDnmvQgWmvC0lOZp0xOcsQR2RVlvFAtM9hF2rkhpbwUGig-9_d10w_-ZGPOM9lTz6lf6W6K2LDAQqaXqlIeSpqL2JF2KR3JZPAIWpApIDB5Y8PgZUuShPHr0qL_RSnG__rbzzB/s320/watermark-3.jpg" alt="Neil and Gina run St. Malachi" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450172376410377794" border="0" /></a>While Cleveland had a most unmiserable winter this year, I haven't had the best cold-season training. I pulled off the Pittsburgh path and gave racing St. Malachi much criticism. How could I race five miles when I was having trouble breathing (from the cold/plague that will never end)?<br /><br />The answer: have fun.<br /><br />Neither Neil nor I felt up to the races last Saturday. But how could I not race St. Malachi? It was my first race ever in 2007. I've run it every year. And it's for a great cause. Plus, the ranks always fill up with the coolest runners I know. Getting to see them, really is enough to run the hilly race.<br /><br />If that didn't get me to the near West side of Cleveland, however, running a race with Neil for the first time would. Even if I had known what the weather would have been.<br /><br />I hung with Salty, DaisyDuc and ESpeed (indoors) before the race, and only warmed up trotting uphill to the start with Neil. Wimpywimpywimpy ran high with me that day. And I was OK with it.<br /><br />Before the race I had promised Neil that we could run the first mile hard, see how we felt and run the rest however we wanted. So, when the race kicked off, I led the muddy way through a mile one that I remembered being much more downhill. Neil started the day sniffling with cold/flu symptoms, so I tried to spy behind me from time to time to make sure he wasn't too far behind. He pushed through the snot and ran a great first mile.<br /><br />Even with the backlooking and three stops for Neil to catch up, I ran mile one at 6:50. Neil crossed at 7:14.<br /><br />Mile two ran closer to 8, and then Neil started feeling really bad. So, we slowed down and cruised the last 2.5-3 miles. He ran a consistent pace; I sprinted the hills and waited at the top (if I wasn't going to get in my tempo, I'd at least do hill repeats!). Yes, I picked up plenty of dirty looks.<br /><br />At least they weren't from Neil. He pushed through his sick to run a very respectable 45 at his first St. Malachi — we had a little track meet sprint up the final hill to the finish, and he beat me by a bunch. Then we came home, ate bratwurst my dad delivered from the West Side Market (he was an awesome cheerleader too), and spent the rest of the weekend getting all resicked.<br /><br />I think we're finally getting better by now. My nose-breathing is around 80% by now, and Neil's getting his normal voice back. We're eying some late-April races to redeem ourselves. And have yet more fun.GPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847101316636431975noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4685638006754853700.post-88254090895662976252010-02-03T12:52:00.003-05:002010-02-03T12:59:53.944-05:00Shameless self promotion<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.case.edu/thinkbeyond/fb"><img style="background-color:#ffffff; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 300px;" src="http://www.case.edu/annualreport/2009/thinkbeyond/thepossible/stylesheets/images/thinkbeyondthepossible.png" alt="Think Beyond the Possible" border="0" /></a>Excuses, excuses, excuses. I took off last week from impact training to give my leg a heal: it swelled up so much a few nights that I couldn't sleep. And that just wrecked everything. But it wasn't just the leg keeping me up at night. Work had its hand too.<br /><br />I try not to let work interfere with my personal life. Much. All too often, however, it barges its way into every hour of my waking and sleeping hours.<br /><br />At least I have something to show for it. If you have a minute, please visit my <a href="http://www.case.edu/thinkbeyond/fb">Think Beyond the Possible Web site</a>. I'm kind of proud of it.<br /><br />Only now I have to find something else to think about when I'm on the treadmill...GPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847101316636431975noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4685638006754853700.post-67456408011110214292010-01-29T11:44:00.002-05:002010-01-29T11:56:57.330-05:00Will power and the cleansed brain<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://media.npr.org/assets/news/2010/01/20/cake_wide.jpg?t=1264458912&s=4"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 615px;" src="http://media.npr.org/assets/news/2010/01/20/cake_wide.jpg?t=1264458912&s=4" alt="Cake!" border="0" /></a><br />In my previous post, I mentioned that the refresh of cleansing, in addition to habits lost and found, helped me avoid the typical binging I commit when I'm stressed (and January tends to be a real doozy for me at work).<br /><br />Apparently, I get a pat on the back. According to NPR, it's not easy.<br /><br />A few questions hit about the story, so here it is — <a href="http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=122781981" target="_blank">Will Power and the Slacker Brain: Why is it so hard to do the right thing?</a> Turns out your brain gets tired sometimes and just can't fight the power... of chocolate cake.GPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847101316636431975noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4685638006754853700.post-58463195017523643842010-01-27T22:40:00.000-05:002010-01-28T12:49:52.041-05:00End of the cleanse<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrCy_IY8diTbWGF90-cAtUzfCXuuZ6VP2-Jpf9eSS8ED9J7uMQOGnJoLlthxozpGMqo-pNUmbxW9aK0ICaZBPMWEmZrEKd7qTUexUJ65wT5p_NlMsAhwoek1o5BSzkT-Z_jx4PE2d1iE8/s320/wsmbrat.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrCy_IY8diTbWGF90-cAtUzfCXuuZ6VP2-Jpf9eSS8ED9J7uMQOGnJoLlthxozpGMqo-pNUmbxW9aK0ICaZBPMWEmZrEKd7qTUexUJ65wT5p_NlMsAhwoek1o5BSzkT-Z_jx4PE2d1iE8/s320/wsmbrat.jpg" alt="A Frank's bratwurst was delicious... but not very cleansing!" border="0" /></a>When I crossed the finish on my three-week cleanse last weekend, I celebrated with a cold 13-miler, which broke my training into 10+ (and 30 for the week) for the first time since the Akron Half.<br /><br />Needless to say, it was a bit much and probably not a fab idea to suddenly kick up my long run by 50% in less than a week.<br /><br />At least the cleanse was fab.<br /><br />Now that I’ve shaken the not-so-hot post-cleanse overindulgence I committed on Saturday and Sunday (bratwurst from the market, cupcakes, cookies, apple fritter, pizza on Saturday; cinnamon roll-wrapped bacon and cupcakes on Sunday) and shed weight I packed in a mere two days, I’m basking in the afterglow and digging some new habits.<br /><br />It’s no secret that nutrition is both mystery and obsession for me. What’s more fun than exploring foods’ properties, cooking up a storm and understanding how food delivers energy and affects our insides, outsides, brains, feet and tears? Yet I’ve never grasped how much grub I needed to thrive (and how not to skyrocket my blood sugar all the time).<br /><br />The Clean program was a good place to start. Not only did I learn about my body’s natural, regular detoxification process, I discovered a collection of foods that lessen the detox load, deliver energy and kick the habit of blocking my body’s natural ability to heal itself.<br /><br />A week out of the cleanse, I'm still observing the 12-hour detox period at night and waking up with a <a href="http://www.ehow.com/way_5148158_lemon-water-liver-detox.html">lemon-water</a> detox for my liver. If nothing else, these two rituals have helped my body prep for sleep at night and wake up easy in the morning.<br /><br />What’s more: I began to appreciate a number of ingredients (i.e., quinoa, kasha, kale) that comprised many of my meals, use them in new ways and crave them for the great way they made me feel. For weeks before the cleanse, I had suffered from nearly debilitating heartburn. By week two, it was completely gone.<br /><br />But it was the “plan” part of the cleanse that delivered the real epiphany.<br /><br />While I consider myself, in general, a healthy eater (with some unhealthy habits), I don’t think I’ve ever been a conscientious eater. Particularly with respect to calories. I’ve grown up in a culture that advertises 2,000- and 2,500-calorie diets as standard. And they are. For people much larger and/or more active than I am. Even if I am training for the Ironman. After getting a basal metabolic rate assessment from my health care provider, I realized that a person my size (5’1, 124 pounds) needs about 1200-1300 calories each day. Then I get a few more for training… but not much. Who knew?<br /><br />I’d used online tools in the past to measure my needs, but the standardized tools recommended 1500-1800 calories each day. Suddenly I realized how a girl running 50+ miles a week could gain weight.<br /><br />Imagine my disappointment, though, when I discovered that I needed 300-500 fewer calories each day! I thought I was going to starve. But then I really tuned in to my plan and listened to my real appetite.<br /><br />In the past my appetite was measured on taste satisfaction, not quantity. Cupcakes? Those are good… and I’m not full until I’ve had 30 of them. Green beans? Often delicious, but not indulgent. So, I’m full about 20 calories in.<br /><br />Enter the Clean plan.<br /><br />The book didn’t outline three weeks of meals, but provided a series of recipes and a recommended eating plan (i.e., smoothie for breakfast, lean protein solid lunch, light detox-friendly snack, soup for dinner). And it only took me 1-2 days to realize that the smoothies, soups and meals I was eating actually left me full and satisfied, even if they were smaller than my usual pig-out of food.<br /><br />Some things like a brothy soup or grilled chicken breast tend to have filling properties, but I was surprised that I wasn’t full… my appetite was satiated. Even on heavy training days. And once 7 p.m. hit., I observed my 12-hour detox and never thought about snacking. Turns out following this plan was a lot like following a training plan for a marathon. It’s not always perfect, but delivered results.<br /><br />But what will shock you to your very core: I seem to have kicked the too-sweet habit. Seriously.<br /><br />Sure, I tried the weekend overindulgence, but I didn’t really enjoy too much of these goods things. In fact, I only ate one half each of two cupcakes and a third of an apple fritter before I felt too indulged (they were tasty… and are now in the freezer). I ditched plans to make fancy donuts at home on Sunday… and haven’t had anything sweet all week despite being done with my cleanse.<br /><br />Don’t get me wrong: I still love my desserts and treats. But I don’t crave and think and plan and dream about them. Much (I am still alive). I have a drawer full of chocolate I stashed during the holidays (“for later”) and haven’t even reached for it. Somehow I survived a very stressful month without any stress-eating. And according to NPR, that’s not easy to do!<br /><br />But how long will I stick with the good-eating habits? What will toss me from the wagon? Only time will tell. At least I have regular cleanses planned to keep me on the straight and narrow. I’m most vigilant, however, on how my nutrition affects my training. And… so far so good. My energy has been steady and strong (totally unlike calorie-cuts of the past), and I feel like I’m eating the right things, rather than less of the same schtuff.<br /><br />Still so much to learn about myself, food, energy delivery... and the million things I can do with kasha.<br /><br />All this Cleanliness has primed me for dropping some of my non-leanness for racing season. I dropped about six pounds over the three weeks (part diet, plenty of exercise). The only drawback: my running tights are too loose now… and loose tights lead to some mean chafing on a rough 13-miler. Ouch!GPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847101316636431975noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4685638006754853700.post-41171745693911106602010-01-18T19:14:00.001-05:002010-01-18T19:16:30.202-05:00Cleanse week two, training week one (15 weeks to go)Rumor has it that it takes three weeks to break a habit. Fingers are crossed that it’s true: I’m two weeks into breaking my healthy-diet-spoiling eating habits and hoping that it sticks.<br /><br />And after a week’s warmup, I finished my first week of training for the Pittsburgh Marathon.<br /><br />Here’s the full rundown on Week #2 Cleanse/Week #1 Training<br /><blockquote>MONDAY<br />On rising: lemon water<br />7 a.m. herbal tea<br />Breakfast: blueberries, cocoa, almond milk smoothie<br />Snack: probiotic yogurt<br />Lunch: snapper w/broccoli rabe, kale and pine nut quinoa<br />Dinner: zucchini-basil soup<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">*Training: 6.25 treadmiles @ 9:00/mile</span><br /><br />TUESDAY<br />On rising: lemon water<br />7 a.m. herbal tea<br />Breakfast: blackberries, mango, spinach, almond butter smoothie<br />Lunch: grilled chicken w/pesto, spinach, zucchini, kale, chipotle sauce over polenta<br />D: pumpkin pudding (pureed pumpkin, probiotic yogurt, cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg, cayenne)<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">*Training: warm-up; progression hill repeats w/ two sets of 1:00 1-8% grade/:10 pace increments; cool down; 20:00 strength training</span><br /><br />WEDNESDAY<br />On rising: lemon water<br />7 a.m. herbal tea<br />Breakfast: oatmeal w/blueberries, almonds, almond milk<br />L: Pumpkin risotto w/short-grain brown rice and grilled balsamic chicken<br />D: Pumpkin soup w/cilantro, onions, zucchini<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">*Training: 25:00 strength, 40:00 yoga, restful night</span><br /><br />THURSDAY<br />On rising: lemon water<br />7 a.m. herbal tea<br />Breakfast: oatmeal w/blackberries, cinnamon, almonds, almond milk<br />Lunch: Sweet miso w/shiitake mushrooms and spinach<br />D: Bean chili (not exactly cleansing, but the best I could do out)<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">*Training: 7 treadmiles w/intervals between 7-8:00/mile; 30:00 yoga</span><br /><br />FRIDAY<br />On rising: lemon water<br />7 a.m. herbal tea<br />Breakfast: Almond butter, mango, spinach smoothie<br />Lunch: Pumpkin, cinnamon, fresh ginger, cayenne, almond milk smoothie<br />Dinner: ahi tuna over cilantro-lime short-grain brown rice w/avocado + green beans<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">*Training: 25:00 strength; 30:00 medium effort cycling</span><br /><br />SATURDAY<br />On rising: lemon water<br />7 a.m. herbal tea<br />Breakfast: harvest grains + steel cut oats w/ blackberries, almonds, cinnamon, cumin, ginger<br />Lunch: carrot ginger soup<br />Dinner: cilantro-lime short-grain brown rice w/avocado, green beans, zucchini<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">*Training: 30:00 yoga; 4:25 miles outside @ 8:50/mile</span><br /><br />SUNDAY<br />On rising: lemon water<br />7 a.m. herbal tea<br />Breakfast: blackberries, pineapples, almond butter, cinnamon, almond milk smoothie<br />Lunch: apple (OK, so I missed lunch)<br />Dinner: Lettuce, red onion, black olive salad w/minestrone<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">*Training: 35:00 medium effort cycling with 2x5:00 mid-high intensity; 15:00 stretches</span></blockquote><br />And then I started week #2 of training with 9 miles outside @ 8:45/mile. While I thought I was being too ambitious targeting eight miles, I reached big hill at mile four and decided to tackle. It’s about a half-mile bump whose last quarter mile builds from 5-8% grade.<br /><br />The sidewalk was pretty icy this morning, so the ride down wasn’t its usual relief.<br /><br />As you might suspect, I’ve managed to lose a few pounds since I started my cleanse and training. But, as you might not suspect, it’s not a matter of malnutrition.<br /><br />I’ve tried to drop pounds in the past during training, but found it nearly impossible. Probably because I felt entitled to thousands of calories I hadn’t earned. When I actively tried to cut my calories during training, I wouldn’t optimize my meals or my calories. So, I was left feeling weak and energy sapped and completely convinced it was impossible to drop pounds on the run.<br /><br />Ridiculous, huh?<br /><br />My real goal is to drop 15 pounds from my beginning-of-the-year weight by the time I race the Ironman in September.<br /><br />It’s a pretty healthy, metered pace. I’ve dropped 3-4 pounds in the past two weeks, which isn’t the pace I’ll continue, but a nice start. These first several pounds were, well, easier to drop because I packed on plenty during the holidays. Bonus pounds, we’ll call them.<br /><br />So, in this final cleansing week, I hope these good habits grab tight. Obviously, I’ll allow myself the occasional blip of indulgence. But maintaining the small size and frequency of blips will be the trick.<br /><br />I get the sense that it would take me far less than two week to break good habits and find myself smothered in some delicious buttercream frosting.GPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847101316636431975noreply@blogger.com0