Musings

Why hello blog. We meet again. You missed a pretty exciting year in 2012. I joined a local gym, got a couple of trainers, worked my ass off (literally) to get into super awesome shape, ran another half marathon, and then let all my hard work go to shit. But we all know that is what I do. That is the cycle that I live in. I gain weight, get upset about it, gain a bit more weight, hit a breaking point, lose anywhere from 30-60 pounds, plateau, get content, drop off in the exercise and food maintenance, and then gain the weight back. In 2006 I lost a fair amount of weight when I lived in Rome, but I put all of it and a shit ton more on up until I graduated college in 2008. The first year after college I lost a fair amount of weight and then I lost even more in 2009/2010 when I joined FFC and ran my first half marathon. I gained about 3/4 of that weight back in 2011. So when 2012 started I was again fed up and took that step with the personal training. But here we are in March of 2013 and I'm at a weight I haven't been since 2008. You'd think that would scare me and motivate me to get out there, but for some reason I haven't had that moment yet. I'm still in the self loathing stage. As I've learned in school, I'm back in the Preparation Stage. I've made an attempt at change in the past year and I'm looking to start making a change in the next month.

I'm not sure why it has been so hard for me to get motivated even though I know how crappy I feel in my skin right now. It could be the combination of school and work and stress that is sucking the life force out of me (seriously, some days I honestly feel that way). But part of me knows that is not true and that if I were truly motivated I would make it happen no matter what. So with some friends and the hope of getting my ass in gear I signed up for some races to help get me back on track. I first signed up for the Shamrock Shuffle which is April 7th. That is an 8k so just under 5 miles. It shouldn't be too bad if I start running again. It just sucks that it's still fairly cold out and cold weather running is not my thing. I then signed up for the Run for the Zoo 10k in June. Plenty of time to be ready for that. And lastly, and mainly for fun, I signed up for the Color Run which is also in June. That one should be fun because I've been able to get a few friends from school and work to sign up for that. I'm pretty stoked for it.

Then you have last week when I came back from bowling (yes, I'm on a bowling league this winter) and I was feeling inspired by Isaiah. He asked if I was running any halfs this year and I said no and he was all like, "Nothing like signing up for a run to help you get motivated to train for it!" Which is something I totally already know, but coming from Isaiah it just seemed different. Plus, now I kind of don't want to let him down by not doing at least one. I know Isaiah wouldn't care either way, but I feel like running is something that I can share with him and no matter what he is always supportive and proud. So I came home, looked up the Chicago Half Marathon and signed up. I also saw that there are two separate ones and if you run both you get a special "Windy City Challenge" medal. In my head I'm all "Well I want to get a special medal!" so I go and sign up for both races.

I was pumped and excited after I did, but a week later reality is definitely setting in. I'm not regretting my decision, but I definitely need to take an honest look at how I am going to approach this. For my first half I trained at the beginning and at the end and it worked out ok for me. I didn't do all that great, but I finished. Plus, mentally I was in a great place. For the Rock 'N Roll half I did last July I trained for the first month and then nothing. Needless to say that did not go over well for me. Not only did I suck it up in the running, but mentally I was a complete mess. I was in way better shape before that half than the Detroit half, but because my mind was not there it was one of the worst experiences ever. I never want to repeat that.

With that in mind, I move into my pre-training period. I start officially training in 2 weeks and it is certainly something. I bought a couple of the Runner's World books to help me. I'm hoping that if I read those in conjunction with adhering to the training schedule I will not only be physically prepared, but mentally prepared as well. I know my lack of training set off a lot of my mental backlash, but I also know that there is more to it. I need to feel confident again like I did the first time. I need to be able to stand at that starting line and instinctively know that no matter what happens, I can do this and I will finish. I know this isn't going to be easy since for the first 6 weeks of training I have both school and work to deal with. But like I said, I can't have a repeat of last year's half and I honestly think I would do anything to avoid that.

So there you have it Blog. Starting all over again like I have so many times before. But I'm not going to sit here and be upset with myself because obviously I've done enough of that already. What I am going to do is be proud of the fact that I'm starting to take that first step again and get back out there. I am going to once again take it one day at a time, one step at a time, one decision at a time. That is how I will get through this and succeed. And succeed I will, because 2013 is going to be the best year yet for me.

And the Beat Goes On

Yes, I know: I am officially the World's Worst Blogger. It's fairly easy to suck at something when you don't do it. But in my defense, I don't think anybody would really want to read anything I could possibly have said in the past 5 months. It would have been a lot of me going "Oh, I'm so unhappy with myself but I'm just not that motivated to do....Ooo ice cream!!" I may not be quite that ADD, but you get my point. Nobody wants to listen to a whiny bitch and nobody wants to listen about the same person who keeps making the same mistakes and can't seem to get her shit together. Now before we go any further let me state that I'm not sure if I have my shit together right now, but I'm actually trying so that's something compared to the past year almost.

At the encouragement/prodding/"Nicki can totally kick your ass" sayings of my lovely roomie, I have decided to run a 10k on September 24th. It's for the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Foundation so I am running for a purpose and not just to get bunny ears. After running a half marathon last year I realize that a 10k is not that big of a deal, but right now to me it is. As someone who has fallen so stagnant in their exercise life to the point of doing nothing it's a big ass deal that I'm going to run 6.2 miles.

I started training (yes, I am training for this) last week which gave me 4 full weeks to prepare myself. Since I have run before I don't think it's ridiculous to think that at the end of a month I'd be able to run a 10k. I'm certainly not going to win the race, but when has that ever been my goal with running? Anyway, with my schedule I'm running 4 times a week with my "big" runs on Saturday. Last week was the first week and man did I want to kill myself. The first day wasn't too bad, but then it went downhill from there. I'm not sure if it was the combination of extreme heat (running when it's almost 90 degrees outside is not fun), my lack of hydration/proper nutrition and being out of shape but whatever it was I was not a happy camper. My 2nd and 3rd runs were the perfect examples of why I generally hate running: I had no stamina, my body felt like shit, my mind was defeated no matter I told it and I never truly felt like I accomplished something. When it came to my 4 mile run on Saturday, I won't make excuses, I never did it. Between drinking, not wanting to do it, being tired and having to work I was able to find a reason not to go. Is it the best thing ever? No. Can I expect myself to be perfect after so much imperfection? No. I messed up, but now I move on.

Today I went for a run and instead of going for 3 miles I decided I'd do 4 since I skipped that this weekend. It was honestly the best run I've ever had in my entire life; a complete 180 from everything last week. My body felt really phenomenal, the temperature was pretty perfect, I got into a groove and my mind was actually wandering while I ran. I started to get a little dehydrated, but I didn't want to stop even for a few seconds because I was worried if I did I'd throw off my rhythm. But even that was never anything too bad. What makes me most proud about this run is the fact that I actually ran all of my 4.3 mile run. I never once stopped to walk for even a little bit. I have never done that in my entire life!! During my half I came up to the Bridge a little after mile 3 and ended up walking for a bit. So not only did I run the whole time, but I even ran a little extra. Honestly, I probably could have kept going. It was that fantastic of a run!!

Ever since coming home I have had the most amazing feeling. Everything about me right now is happy and feeling good. And this right here is the reason why I want to run: to experience this feeling. It's pretty close to being euphoric. I don't expect all of my runs to go like this. I'm sure Wednesday when I run again I'll probably end up needing to stop within the first mile or something because that's the way my life goes. But even when that happens I'll know in my mind that no matter how much I may suck that day there's a possibility that tomorrow is just going to blow me out of the water. So maybe if I keep at this whole running thing on a fairly consistent schedule (even after the 10k) I'll have more of these amazing days and less of the "I want to kill myself" days. Here's hoping!!

It All Started With a Picture

Ever since I started my "weight loss journey" two and a half years ago, my path has been a relatively easy one. The first year, I lost 30 pounds by doing nothing besides live with a new roommate. My roomie is a pretty healthy person, in her eating and exercise habits, and overtime I started adopting her healthier eating habits. I gained a crap ton of weight by living in the most unhealthy apartment any college student can live in. I then lost a bunch of weight by changing the way I ate. The one thing that was especially crazy about losing those 30 pounds I remember, was the fact that I didn't even realize I was losing weight. My parents said something to me when I was home visiting and it all clicked.

The second year I lost another 30 pounds by adding exercise to my more healthy diet. I joined a gym randomly one day and started working out five days a week. Of course after about 2 months or so the working out that much waned a bit, but I still kind of kept up with with. Even though I wasn't going to the gym as much, I was able to maintain my weight. And then last fall I decided to run my half marathon. What little training I did for that apparently did something to my body because people kept telling me that I looked slimmer. Honest to God, I did not lose any weight during that time so my best guess is that I toned up a bit.

So what is the point in sharing all of this? The point is that while I have put in some effort over the past couple of years, losing weight has come without any major problems. I haven't had any of those Biggest Loser type breakdowns or freak outs. Until now. Or maybe I should say until about 5 months ago. After the half marathon my exercising became non existent. For awhile it was because I honestly did not want to work out after running so much and putting my body through that. That, I feel is a completely valid response. What isn't valid is the fact that I used that break to turn into my gateway for laziness. By the time I was ready to run again I convinced myself that it was too cold to run outside, getting to gym was too inconvenient and then I didn't have a gym membership anymore because I wasn't using it. My ultimate act of laziness was not using the workout dvds my roomie had. All I had to do was spend 30 minutes in living room and I couldn't even be bothered to do that. All of the usual excuses appeared as to why I wasn't using them, but in my mind it didn't matter since I wasn't gaining weight. Of course on top of my complete laziness my eating has gone to shit and while I recognized it I didn't care.

A couple of weeks ago I weighed myself at work and found out that I had gained about 15 pounds. I was completely blown away. It took me two years to lose 60 pounds and only about 4 months to gain 15. I had a mini panic attack and all of the thoughts like "How could you let this happen?" crossed my mind. I know how it happened. I saw all the signs. I just chose to ignore each and every one of them. What's truly sad, is that even knowing I had gained the weight didn't make me do anything; it actually made me sad and hopeless like it used to. I resorted to my teenage self where I would either binge eat or just eat total crap food. In my head I knew I had to take that step and make a change, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. And then I saw the pictures.

For me, everything started with a picture so it's not surprising that my reality check came from more pictures. Last weekend, the city of Chicago celebrated St. Patrick's Day by dyeing the river green and having a parade. Like most young people, I used the day as a way to drink for 12 hours straight. I had a great time with my friends and would say that this year was celebration is up there with some of the best I've had. Over the next couple of days I started seeing all the pictures and while some of them are very nice all I see is a super fat me. After visiting my brother, I swore that I would never let my weight taint my memories but I did it again. I let myself down. Being a people pleaser, it's really difficult accepting the fact that I'm disappointed in myself.

I feel like I'm back where I started a year and a half age: being angry at myself, my body and the way I look to people whom I meet. I feel like I've failed myself all over again. I feel like I've failed all the people that have supported me over the past couple of years believing in me and thinking that I could change. So what do I do now? What I do is accept what has happened, pick myself up and move on. I stop being lazy and act. Yesterday I did a Bob Harper Biggest Loser dvd. Today I went for a 3 mile run to continue to get back into the swing of things. I take this one day at a time, one decision at a time. My weight is never going to be an easy thing for me; it really will be a life long struggle. All I can do is accept responsibilities for my actions and make changes when needed. I must acknowledge that at times I will succeed and at others I will struggle. Recently, I've struggled but now it is time to come out a stronger person and succeed.

Having (Literally) Nothing to Wear

When losing weight, everyone talks about how much effort it is going to take, how it's a complete lifestyle change, how happy you'll feel when you're a thinner version of yourself, how confident you'll be in your own skin etc. What people to fail to mention is the biggest craptastic aspect of losing weight: no longer fitting into the clothes you own. Yes, I acknowledge that many would consider dropping clothing sizes to be a good thing (and I too do a happy dance when my size goes down) but having to replace a wardrobe sucks!

This evening I was getting ready to go out with some friends and while I was getting dressed I realized that my entire winter wardrobe is too big on me. Since last year, my body has changed enough where I can no longer wear any of the sweaters I own. I can't even turn them into the long sweater dresses because they're just too big and baggy. I'm honestly not happy about this at all. Call me crazy seeing as how many women would love to have my problem, but I feel like I have two completely valid reasons for being peeved by this development.

Reason number 1: I now have to spend the money to replenish my obsolete wardrobe. Don't get me wrong, the idea of going shopping is very exciting, but I don't like having to spend the money on clothes. The only reason I used to buy so many clothes in the past was because I worked at Gap and received 50% on everything. Now that I'm no longer working there, I really do not want to spend $75 on a sweater. Even if I were to go to cheaper stores, the amount of money it takes to build up an entire wardrobe is huge! That is money I do not have. It's just really really frustrating.

Reason number 2: I have some pretty awesome memories in my clothes. When I look at an article of clothing in my wardrobe I don't just see a pink tweed vest; I see the vest that Danny insisted looked fabulous on me when I was still debating if I could pull off the vest look. I see the cream sweater my old roomie gave me that I wore to my internship's Thanks-for-Giving party where we goofed around the whole night. I see the black off the shoulder sweater that I wore to my friend's family's annual Trivial Pursuit night where not only did the women win for the first time in like a decade but we all laughed the entire evening. Each article of clothing holds a special memory for me and to get rid of that piece makes part of me extremely sad. Yes, I will always have the memories of these great times, but giving away these clothing pieces feels like I'm giving away a part of myself.

In the end, losing weight and changing who you are means saying good-bye to a part or aspect of yourself. Generally it's the overeating self-loathing couch potato part so you don't mind too much, but every now and then it means saying good-bye to that happy college version of yourself where you only worried about passing the next test and writing the next paper. It means saying good-bye to that part of yourself that was blissfully unaware of how truly large you were and fully embracing the you that knows you can still be better. Then again, maybe this is just what it means to truly grow up, become an adult and be that most mature version of yourself possible. What do I know, though, I've still got plenty of weight to lose and heck of a lot of growing up to do.

Marathon in the Motor City

I know it has been almost a month since my half marathon and I'm just now getting around to writing about it, but really does that shock anybody? No, it does not. Since I'm writing right now I clearly survived the experience. I actually didn't do too bad either. I finished in 3 hours 10 minutes with a 14:30 minunte pace. For as much as I didn't train, that's pretty good!! I suspect if I did not have to deal with all the bridges (4 of them!) and a useless bathroom break, I would have finished in under 3 hours. But I suppose that's the goal to work towards for next time. Yes, I've already decided I'm going to run another half marathon. I think Chicago is the next city to conquer, but that's a story for another day.

Even now, with so much time having gone by, the whole experience is so surreal to me. I can't tell you how I made it through those 13.1 miles or even what I was thinking because I honestly don't know. I remember the excitement and adrenaline pumping through my body as I stood at the starting line waiting for my wave to go. I remember cruising through the first three miles. I remember getting to the Ambassador Bridge and realizing that I never thought to train for an incline (let alone the multiple ones I would encounter). I remember how gorgeous it was to be running across the Bridge at sunrise and being able to see how beautiful downtown Detroit is.

Canada was an interesting part of my run. I stopped to use the bathroom not too long after I got into the country and it completely messed up my rhythm. After the bathroom break, I was running much slower and really starting to get into a bad head space. It was never a "I can't do this" but more of a "I am completely alone in this." A morale boost was desperately what I needed and unfortunately it wasn't going to come while I was in Canada. The entrance to the Tunnel back to the States was either mile 7 or 8 and when I saw that mile marker I almost started crying. I have absolutely no idea why, but I definitely got teary eyed. Luckily for me, my iPod chose that moment to start playing "Party in the USA" by Miley Cyrus and all I could do was start laughing at how perfect the timing was on that. I like to think of it Canada's morale boost to me.

Running through the Detroit-Windsor Tunnel was pretty fun (once again minus the incline). What got me through was knowing my parents were on the other side of the Tunnel waiting for me. As soon as I ran through customs I started looking for them everywhere. I don't think I can describe what it felt like to find them and know they were there for the sole purpose of cheering me on. I received a quick hug from the Madre (without really stopping) and went on my way. That emotional boost was exactly what I needed, though, to make it through the last leg of my race.

Those final five miles were some of the best of the entire race because we were able to run though different neighborhoods and see some really beautiful parts of the city. On the other hand, the final three miles felt like the longest miles of my life. The closer to the finish line I got, the slower time went. I had reached the point where I was only able to run for one song and then I had to walk for a song (or two). It was also in those final miles that my body decided it had had enough. My calves started seizing, my thighs were twitching uncontrollably and my left knee felt like it wanted to give out at any minute. I stopped to stretch a couple of times, but that only helped for a minute or two. I completely reverted back to the mentality I had when I had a difficult swim practice: "This will all be over in 45 minutes. This will all be over in 20 minutes. I'm going to be done in less then 10 minutes." Putting it into a time perspective somehow always helps me.

The last .3 miles of the race was a straight shot to the finish line. When I reached that point, a guy yelled at us "Only .3 miles left! You can do it!" I muttered to myself, "I just ran almost 13 miles. I sure as fuck hope I can finish this!" That earned me an unintentional laugh from a woman running next to me. Seeing that finish line definitely gave me a new shot of adrenaline. Jay Z started singing "Empire State of Mind" and even though it was about the wrong city, I told Jay to sing me home. I kept on moving, singing to myself and when I reached the 13 mile marker I somehow convinced my body to sprint across the finish line. I wanted to finish strong and I did just that with a huge smile on my face accompanied by a fist pump. It was a pretty epic moment for me.

After that, I received my medal, felt my entire body finally give out, head directly to the massage tent in hopes that I'd be able to walk again and lastly meet up with my family. They had all found each other already so I was the last person to join the party. I'm not going to lie, the cheers and round of applause I received as I walked up to them with my arms spread wide open showing off my medal felt pretty damn good. That is the moment I will remember forever: seeing how happy and proud my family was of me. All of them knew what a huge personal accomplishment finishing the half marathon was for me and seeing their support meant more to me then anything else.

The next few days passed in a fun haze of limping and extremely sore muscles. I believe I looked like I had a pegged leg from the way I limped around. I liken the pain I felt to that I experienced after my car accident a few years back. Just like in that car accident, I beat the shit out of my body running that half marathon and it took some time to recover. I can honestly say, though, that every ounce of that pain was worth it because I can say that I ran a half marathon. That is a sense of pride and accomplishment that nobody can ever take away from me. Plus, it makes me even more of a badass then I already was.

The 'Meh' Week

I started a new job last and while I did pretty well with my training then, this week has been complete crap. I'm working the evening shift at the hospital, some mornings at Gap and not getting a whole lot of sleep or free time. Now, I realize the free time thing sounds like an excuse, but it's half true. If my only free time is going to come in the morning then I would rather spend it relaxing and not running. In the same respect, if I'm not getting home until almost 1:00 am I'm certainly not going to wake up early in the morning to go for a run. And then there's the part about how I refuse to run at mid-day because it's August and I don't want to die.

So what have I learned from this? My adjusting to a new job + fatigue + laziness + desire to have time to do what I want = a really crappy running week. I only hope that I find a way to adapt to my new schedule soon because I still need to teach my body to run 8.1 more miles.

Run Forrest, Run!

I have decided that I am officially insane. I mean, that is the only logical explanation as to why I would sign up to run a half marathon in 10 weeks. That's right friends I, the kid who has never run more then 2 miles in her life, is going to run 13.1 miles on October 17th (actually, I'd say 'lightly jog' is the more proper terminology for what I'll be doing). How did I come to sign up for such an adventure? Well, let me tell you.

As you can all see from my lack of posting, my exercise life has gone absolutely nowhere in the past few months. I had become very bored with my normal gym routine and I didn't really feel like I was getting anything out of it anymore. Sure, when I went I felt good and I felt stronger but it was a chore to go and I wasn't happy. So without really knowing what exactly I was looking for I knew that I wanted something more challenging to work for.

Then a few weeks ago I received an e-mail from my oldest brother informing me that my other brother was running the Detroit Marathon and that he had decided to run the half marathon the same day. He mentioned that our parents had said that I had been working out and running and asked if I'd be interested in running the 5k on race day. Immediately I was touched that he thought to invite me to join the two of them on their race day; I'm not exactly the athletic one of the family and generally when my two brothers get together I'm not included so it meant a lot to me that he wanted to make this a sibling thing.

I quickly decided that I was going to join the two of them on race day, but the thought of running the 5k seemed way lame to me. I mean, 3 miles isn't that difficult to run if you're moderately in shape and with about 13 weeks to prepare I mean come on! The more I thought about it the more I realized that the half marathon was exactly the challenge I was looking for. I would have a set training schedule with a real goal to work towards instead of the abstract "get healthier" or "lose weight." Yes, it would be hard as hell to do but it has that "go big or go home" feel to it that I kind of really enjoy. So last week I officially signed up and paid my $80 to run the Detroit Half Marathon.

Am I scared shitless? Of course I am!! The thought of running that much makes me want to cry, but I know I can do this. Part of the reason I wanted to run this half marathon was to prove to not only myself, but all the people who have known me all my life and seen me as the fat kid that I am capable of doing this. I know my brother was being nice in suggesting the 5k to me since I have never run an actual race before but I want to prove to him and the rest of my family that I'm just as physically capable as my brothers. I want to prove to myself that I can set a lofty goal such as this and achieve it. I know that preparation is key and the biggest thing I am going to work on over the next 10 weeks is mentally preparing myself. The more I train physically, my body will fall in line so I'm not too worried about that; what needs to be worked on is the 22 years of my brain telling me that I'm not as athletically capable of doing things like this as others are. I know the next 10 weeks are going to be grueling but with the support of my friends and family I know that I'll make it through and when I finally cross that finish line after 13.1 miles and I stop wanting to kill myself I am going to be immensely proud of myself. That is the moment that I am looking forward to.

With all that said, my hope is that over the course of my training I'll keep the blog updated with how and what I'm doing. Today was the official start of training. I started running last week, but today I started the training schedule. When I registered for the race I registered in the 15:00 minute mile pace group. My goal is to end up being around 12:00-12:30 minute mile pace group. I don't think that's a completely radical goal. Today I ran my 3.12 miles (thanks mapmyrun.com!) in 38 minutes. That's a little over a 12:30 minute mile and much better then the 15:00 minute mile I was running last week. What I'm most proud of, though, is the fact that in my final stretch I didn't stop. I think for most people, knowing the end is coming makes that last leg of the run so much harder. For me, running down Belden from Clark to Orchard and then up to Fullerton is the hardest part of that 3 mile run mentally. It's only about half a mile but it feels like it's going to kill me. Today my goal was to prove that I could finish strong and I did exactly that. I kept on running that last half mile and that is one skill that I know will come in handy on October 17th.