A Gain, Leaving Me at a Loss

On Saturday I ran the fastest I've ever ran in my life.

On Monday I weighed more than I've ever weighed in my life.  (Documented of course - I suppose fluctuations that high were possible and just not noted.)

Are these two connected?  Probably not.  Actually science says that extra weight should make me slower.  What gives?

This time last year I was 122 pounds and ran a 37 minute 5K.  The race time was concerning because instead of getting faster, after a year of running I was now 3 minutes slower.  I internalized it all - of course I was doing something wrong.  I was stupid, fat, and any other negative adjective that I could use to put myself down.

In reality I was ill. 

I know I talk about it a lot around here, but that's because it was a huge deal to me.  I've never really recovered. 

Thankfully I've gotten back to training and in the past year I've progressed considerably on my 5K time, completed my first triathlon, and ran my first full marathon (as well as setting a new half marathon PR). 

What hasn't recovered is my relationship with food.

My doctors never figured out what caused my iron to be incredibly low.  Because the infusions worked, and follow up visits showed my levels increasing (quite obviously I wasn't "leaking") we never really got to the bottom of what caused it.  After all, I was fixed.  Who cares why it happened?

My doctor suggested that heavy calorie restriction might have not allowed me to consume enough iron, causing the dip.  But I wasn't really restricting all that heavily was I?
Compared to some of you I wasn't.  1650 calories a day was my goal.  I was also exercising 7-10 times a week (and not eating back the calories). 

Maybe to perform at that level my body required more of me. 

Maybe it was just a fluke thing with no significant root cause.

Maybe it was just God's way to get my attention.

Whatever the cause, the result is the same - I'm terrified to start a new eating plan.  Without a doubt I choose me right now (chunky, getting faster, and healthy) than the me of last year (skinny, slow, and ill).  That should go without saying, but to be honest there were times in my life I would have given anything to be skinny.

Great right?  I've got a healthy mindset and all is right with the world.  Well not quite, because I know I don't eat as healthy as I ought.

Maybe I'm not suppose to be 122 pounds, but I know that 140 is too heavy for my frame as well.  I know that fast food two nights in a row isn't good for me.  I know that I'm far too thoughtless when it comes to putting together a meal plan.

How do I find a middle ground?  That place between counting every calorie and indulging in every treat?  How do I consider healthy options without running terrified straight into the arms of Ronald McDonald?
Yesterday Karena and I started the Body for Life weights plan.  (Yes, I have before pictures.  No, I'm not ready to share them.)  There is also a great eating plan that goes along with it.  Proper fuel for this kind of activity - 6 meals a day with plenty of protein, carbs, and several veggie servings along the way. 

Yet I can't force myself to try it.  I have a friend who's currently doing just the eating plan.  She's lost a significant amount of weight and swears by how easy it is.  Its inspiring really, how well she's done.  After borrowing her book and nodding in agreement all along the way, I still can't convince myself to start. 

I'm at a loss.

On being critical

Last week, I have a couple break through posts that I was proud of - they really helped me love myself more.  Hopefully I had something meaningful to say to yall as well.

As expect, since the first part of my week was one of progression, the second half of the week was spent down in the dumps.  I couldn't find a nice thing to say to myself.  Whenever I would walk by a mirror I would stop, turn sideways and beat myself up over the size of my stomach.

If I can pause for a side bar, my stomach is my best feature.  No matter how little I weigh, my legs are always large(r proportionally than the rest of my body).  I've got propetual junk in my trunk.

But my stomach is different.  That's the first place I lose weight, the first place I notice definition when I'm consistant with strength training, and the one body part I wouldn't mind showing off to the world at most any weight.

Only last week I was bloated and all menstral.  My stomach was huge.  Okay maybe not huge, but much bigger than I ever remember it looking.  Last week was one of the few times in my life I didn't need a belt.  Normally to get pants to fit in the booty/thighs, they are way too large in the waist. 

People are going to think I'm pregnant.  I thought.  I even dreamed about having a fat stomach with saggy skin.  Nightmare really.

Thankfully when Aunt Flow packed up and left, so did my pudgy gut.  Not to say I'm back to the rock hard abs of the Super Boo days, but its just a little softy and squish rather than rolling over my pants like they did last week.

Many of you have told me that I'm too hard on myself.  I know its true, but I don't know how to fix it. 

Today in the weight room, a good portion of the machines were being used and I had to switch up my rotation in order to get all the different exercises in.  I hopped on the squat rack and loaded up while it was available. 

Okay so maybe I didn't load up.  I grabbed a couple 10# weights and a couple 5# weights.  (Squatting a total of 70 pounds including the bar.)

I can't belive she's taking up the squat rack for that pathetic amount of weights.

She should hurry up and let people use the rack for a real workout.

Who's she trying to kid?

Okay so none of the guys in the weight room said these things, but I felt like they were thinking them.  Then I remembered a Bible verse that reminded me why.

For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.  Matthew 7:2

I hesistate to post blogs like this out of fear that I'll hurt someone's feelings.  The last time I posted about how badly I felt for being judgmental (of the obese woman in the airport) I had a commenter wonder if people thought that when they saw her before a flight.

I hope yall know my heart.  That I would never say anything to hurt you all.  But this is something I have to get out.  Forgive me?

The reason that I assume all those people were annoyed with me in the weight room?  Probably because I've felt annoyed at some "lesser" person myself. 

Like when I want to go for a run, only all the treadmills are taken.  Those people are only walking, you'd think they'd be nice enough to give them up for someone to get a real workout in.

Oh yes I did.  Thankfully I know how ridiculous these statements are and never let them leave my head until now.

I promise, when I look at you, I see your sparkling personality, your generous heart, and your best physical features.   But sometimes I look at people (that I don't know) and judge them based on their looks. 

She must think she's better than everyone - look at how skinny she is and has her head cocked to the side.

Her thighs are muscular, but I'd be embarrased to post a photo of my leg looking that large.


This. must. stop.

I think hope we all unfairly judge to some degree.  Religious stereotypes wouldn't exist otherwise.  Nor would blonde or redneck jokes.  While I'm being honest, please join me.  Do you dismiss someone who has a different accent than you?  Do you prejudge someone driving a fancy sports car?  How do you unfairly judge others?  Also if you've found a way to effectively combat this issue, please let me know in the comments!  Please!

Just as I am

If you haven't had a chance to check out yesterday's post check it out.   The long on short of it?



I don't think you're an idiot at all. I mean, there are elements of the ridiculous about you. Your mother's pretty interesting. And you really are an appallingly bad public speaker. And, um, you tend to let whatever's in your head come out of your mouth without much consideration of the consequences... But the thing is, um, what I'm trying to say, very inarticulately, is that, um, in fact, perhaps despite appearances, I like you, very much. Just as you are.

Gotta love Mark Darcy!

I'm trying to convince myself I'm quite nice, just as I am.  Work in progress, but I do like the progress I've made in the past few days.

Now time for my check in stuffs.

1. Tracking my exercises in an excel spreadsheet. Marking the completed workouts in purple, the incomplete workouts in tan, abandoned workouts in red. The goal is to complete 85% of all scheduled workouts. That sounds really low, but its only getting to fudge on 5 workouts. I'm going to count incomplete workouts as half a workout.
   
   I completed 7.5 out of 9 workouts.  (Confused as to the 0.5?  Catch up here.)  My calculator says that's 83% which is close to my goal.  Since the other was missed while in Ohio visiting my MIL for Mother's day, I'm going to round this one up to 8/9 for 88%.
   
   This goal marked - achieved!
2. Tracking my food in an excel spreadsheet as well as a printed publisher file. I'm going to plan out my menu for the week, then track how often I follow through. This means no guilt for the Friday fast food with mom. No guilt for going out for BBQ with my love. Shooting for 85% on this one too.
   
   I ended up following through with 2/3 of my planned meals at 67% completion rate.  Not exactly goal, but over half is a decent start.  This goal marked - meh.
3. A new 5K PR. In 10 days I'll run in a race that bills its self as "flat." That rarely happens around here. I'm shooting for another PR. Maybe not sub 30, I don't think I've put in the work for that. But definitely below my current PR of 31:35.
   
   This goal marked - not yet.
4. Being successful on my 5 weekly goals (which may or may not stay the same through this) 6/7 days of the week. As badly as I hate to admit it, I'm not perfect and expecting 7/7 on all 5 goals just isn't reasonable.
   
   Since this is "my way" I decided to throw out the tracking daily goals out the window. It started this weekend when I decided not to take my notebook to Ohio, but I still found myself looking out for the things on my list.
   
   I can't really put into words why this feels right, it just does. So this goal gets marked - achieved!
5. To sit down at a meal and say "what can I do to make this more healthy?" Maybe its adding strawberries to my cereal. Or opting out of the coke. Or on a bad day saying "no thanks" to the coke refill. Little things. But little things matter.
   
   This isn't one of those trackable goals I can geek out on and spout percentages on.  Sometimes I do it, sometimes I don't.  The ultimate goal is to make this a way of life.

I'm feeling pretty good about this past week - despite the Pizza Hut buffet, Pepsi, and Ramen that made up my Monday (thanks for outing me to the Sisterhood yesterday April).

Hey - it happens.  But it doesn't define me.


 

Own It!

I've had a post floating in my head for several weeks, but just when I think I've got that final piece life blows up in my face.  Maybe this time, even if I don't get to hit "publish" I'll get enough of it down that I'll be that much closer next time.  And almost there the next time.

I don't like bloggers who seem to have it all together. 

Its not real. 

You may be a better couponer than me.

You may be a faster runner than me.

You may be a better cook than me.

In fact, you probably are.  But that doesn't make you better than me.  We all have our struggles.  Some of us are just too more open about our problems in life.  All of that to say, sometimes I figure things out and want to share them with you.  Only I'm afraid of how it would be received.

If you know me, know my heart, then you know I'm not the girl in love with myself.  I'm not the Barbie who poses that same perfect pose for every picture ever taken.  I'm the girl who wears sweats and flip flops when traveling or shopping because I like to be comfortable.

At the last Repeat Boutique sale, I noticed that some women were in full make up, wearing nice tops, jeans, and heeled boots. 

I didn't have a drop of makeup on, and was rocking a fleece and my sketcher mule sneakers.
(This is a very well thought out look.  Wearing makeup increases the chances of staining clothing as I try on the millions dozens of different items that will be pulled over my head that morning.  The mule sneakers are for comfort as well as dressing room convenience.)

While standing in line behind these ladies, I felt a twinge of insecurity.  Why couldn't I put together outfits like that?  Why couldn't I be that confident?

The obvious answer is I could be.  I'm lazy.  Quite possibly the laziest marathon runner in the world.  Grabbing a fleece out of the Tupperware bin doesn't take as much time as putting together a cute outfit. 

Now I will say that I stand by my Repeat outfits.  I've thought through them logically, but what about the every day.  Why do I wear the outfits I choose to wear?

I use to have a standard "fat day" outfit - a pair of so-soft-and-comfy-they-felt-like-PJs dress pants paired with a one-size-too-big polo with the company logo. 

Fast forward to a couple of weeks ago.  I was having a fat day (as has been happening all too often these days), but due to laundry and weight gain issues my pants selection isn't what it use to be.  That morning I opted for a skirt.  Not exactly fat clothes, but A-line skirts fit me great no matter what my size. 

On my way over to the bowling center to pick up my lunch, I caught a dude checking me out.

I'm at my heaviest weight ever.  My burger and fries weight.  And some random guy was starring at me.

Am I the hottest woman on the planet?  Nope.  Skinniest?  Not even close.

That day I was just a woman who (quickly) put together an outfit that worked well with her body.  I've got runner's calves.  The look great in heels. 

"Own it." A friend said.

Know what you've got going for you and work it.

For me that's A-line skirts and dresses to highlight my XS small top and draw attention away from my trouble spot (thigh area.)

Also?  I can rock a pair of yoga pants like no body's business.  My legs aren't incredibly huge, just not as firm as I'd like.  Yoga pants do great things for my booty and flatter my legs.

This post started out of anger at the women who say that men lose interest/stray/cheat because their wives "let themselves go."  Being slow to speak blog is a good thing.  Anger isn't productive.  I just hurt for women who think so little of themselves they think they can't keep their man's attention.

I'm here to tell you that men find the female body attractive.  Period.  You have something going for you.  Right now I don't have the flat abs I did 15 pounds ago, but now I have a pretty smokin rack. 

(Did I just blog that?)

Treat yourself well.  Dress yourself well.  (You don't have to spend a ton of money to do it.)  Find those couple of great things about you and highlight them.

And OWN IT!

I'm a Quitter...

...and sometimes that's okay.

I don't mean in a clever "I quit soda" kinda way.  (Cause I didn't.)

I tried a new class at the gym last week called "Sculptonic".  It was a weights class/dance routine/boot campesque class.

And I sucked out loud.  5 minutes into the class I was miserable.  Watching the clock every few minutes counting down how much longer I had to endure the torture.  About 20 minutes into the 45 minute class we did mountain climbers as our "power" move.

As my leg fat was pulled down by gravity, pulling my legs inward became too much for me to mentally take.  Watching your own fat jiggle while feeling like a huge idiot/failure isn't a good combo.

So I left.  With another 20 minutes left in the class I just walked out.

At first I considered how it would make the instructor feel, but she's one of the more popular teachers so I convinced myself she'd not be offended.

I'm here to tell you that walking out was the nicest thing I've done for myself in a really long time. 

I probably abuse this song.  Its just a fun song about a good excuse for a bar fight, but it really does mean so much more to me.

You see, last Wednesday I ran out of Aces.  I could have stayed, and drained myself of every self esteem chip I had piled up on the table.  But folding was the right choice.

Sometimes tracking food, trying to stay "on the wagon", trying to earn a chip - whatever you're putting your effort into - can be too heavy a burden to carry. 

Folding is okay. 

Walking away is sometimes necessary.

Running away is sometimes prudent.

Take care of yourself above all, and that sometimes means going away from what is best physically and heading to a place that's more healthy mentally.

Thank you my beautiful readers for putting up with me through thick and thin, and the size 6 in between the two.  I hope to have more glimpses from the road to health and sanity along the way.  Love yall!