Don't Panic. It's Just Me Again.

Do you know that moment when you panic?  You know.  That exact moment when your world seems to narrow into tunnel vision and you start to sweat, salivate, your heart beats a little harder.  Sometimes sounds are muffled and your stomach does a little flip.  I know this moment well.  Turns out, I have this moment on a daily basis.  I thought it just happened occasionally.  The most notable panic attack I had was the six weeks leading up to my decision to bag Chicago.  I couldn't sleep.  I ate all the time.  I cried all the time.  I would run for three hours and they would be the WORST training runs of my life, and then I would go home and cry.  And cry.  And cry some more.  I was mad at everybody.  I would snap at little honey bunny and I would simultaneously scream at Honey Bunny and then want a huge hug because I couldn't tell if everything was his fault or my fault.  I was...a mess.  A complete and utter black pit of need and anxiety.  So I made the decision to not run Chicago.  I thought that this was what I needed to take back control of my life.  I needed to let go of something that I perceived to be causing me great pain. I thought that Chicago was it.  Turns out, I made a huge mistake.  What I needed to take control of was my training.  What I needed to take control of was my decision making and my emotional health.  I needed to look out for myself and stop looking out for everyone else.  I can assure you I have learned my lesson.  I have learned my lesson about making huge decisions in the moment of panic.  I have learned my lesson about giving up things for other people.  Because I am sitting here in Virginia today instead of going to the Chicago Marathon Expo.  I am sitting here waiting to run the Richmond Marathon instead of being trained and ready to run in Deena Kastor's footsteps on Sunday.  I am going to run 18 miles in the rain and 75 degree heat tomorrow instead of running on Sunday in perfect, and I mean perfect running weather.
So this is a great example of what happens to me when big things go a little crazy and I panic.  But you know what I realized through this process of reflection and regret?  That I have these moments almost daily, sometimes several times a day.  Do you know when I have them?  Right before I eat.  When I have to make a choice about what to put in my stomach.  Is it going to be a salad or a sandwich.  Is it going to be carrot sticks or chips.  Is it going to be water or a diet coke.  Happens all the time.
Honey Bunny and I have great friends.  We were talking about two of them the other night.  They have a situation going on their house that is universal with all human beings and that is how to care best for their offspring.  We all want what's best for our children and we all want to think that we are handling every situation the best we possibly can. But sometimes, we have to make the truly difficult decisions.  And we panic.  We are so emotionally wrapped up in our dilemma that we cannot always see the big picture or even the right path and so we make the best decisions possible at that given moment.  It is only after that moment has passed that we see sometimes our decision is wrong.  Like Chicago for me.  I think  that it takes more courage to admit that some decisions are not great ones.  That we should, rather than live in the vast pit of regret, we try our best to reverse our previous stance, learn from it, moved forward and try to recognize it the next time it comes knocking on your door.
Honey Bunny pointed out that many struggles occur again and again because we haven't had much success to build on.  I am looking for some success today.  Just today.  We'll wait and see what happens tomorrow.

I killed the Mouse...Again

So I am having trouble with my running mojo lately.  Which apparently is affecting all of the rest of my mojo.  My weight loss mojo, my working mojo, my Mommy mojo, my honey bunny mojo.  All of it.  So is the lesson for me that if my running mojo ain't happy, no mojo is happy?
So this is what is going on.  Honey Bunny says that I take a problem and I am like a cat with it.  Have you ever seen a cat with a mouse?  How they take it and carry it in their mouths and then play with it in the grass and then carry it some place else (usually your living room floor) and then they bat it around a little while longer until the mouse actually dies from a heart attack and fright (totally true) and then the cat rolls around on it and smothers it and it appears that they are loving on it but in reality they are preparing to eat some of it and then leave some guts for you?  Well that is what I do with a problem.  Particularly with a problem that has to do with other women and the wrongs of the world!!  Or really the wrongs I have perceived to be done to me.  Is that a woman thing or is that just some huge personality flaw in me?  And then why do I let it affect every other area and watch everything fall like a house of cards?
This is what I do know absolutely - marathoning and marathon training is a HUGE emotional gamble.  I know that it is physically demanding but emotionally for me, there has never been a tougher challenge than training and completing a marathon.  There are many training runs when you get to a point where you tell yourself, this is not worth it.  I cannot do this.  I am really slow and therefore worthless.  I cannot do this.  I will never finish.  I cannot do this.  This is a TERRIBLE thing to think about yourself, considering that when you are training for a marathon you are doing something that 93% of the world's population cannot do and have not done.  Another consideration is that half of that population probably would give anything to be in your Asics.  So it is very important to give yourself every emotional advantage that you can in order to dismiss those irritating messages that come up.  These advantages usually come in the form of pep talks and positive reinforcements.  Either from yourself, your friends, your coaches, your parents, your running partners, any one that you can get it from.  The key is to believe it.  Take that in for a second.  Deep Breath.  Hold.  Breathe out.  BELIEVE the MESSAGES.  Got it?  O.K.  So, back to all about me and my problems.  What do you do when you have someone that is messing with your mojo?  Someone close to you that is probably oblivious to the mojo messin' and most likely would be really offended if they knew they were doing the messin'.  Honey Bunny would say TELL THEM and tell them to CUT IT OUT.  Of course I am not going to do that because - two things.  I am a woman and women suck at that.  Also, I don't want to mess with their mojo.  So this leaves me with the only option which is to...wait for it...

Take responsibility for my own actions and my own marathon. 


OMG Did I just say that?  Really?  Shit, Shit, SHIT, I hate that.  As bad as I am at confrontation, I am even worse at taking responsiblity.  Let me take a stab at this.  If I want to finish a marathon in a certain time.  I need to do many things.  I need to put in the miles.  I need to hydrate.  I need to nourish my body with fuel, not Five Guys.  I need to rest and sleep.  I need to stretch.  I could probably stand to lose a few pounds but that is not the most important thing. I need to spend some time mentally preparing for every long training run.  I can do all of those things.  What I don't need is to wonder what everyone else is doing.  I also don't need to wonder and plan and prepare and bustle about making everyone else happy.  I only need to make sure that Honey Bunny gets his runs in and also make sure that some one is watching little honey bunny.
Did you hear that Honey Bunny?  I am bringing back the buzz....the running buzz that is.  Thanks for letting me kill the mouse one last time.  I am happy to report though, it is dead and I am laying the intestines at your door step!!!!

Back to School

So I put little Honey Bunny on the bus today.  So sweet he is and SO skinny!!  Reminds me of myself at that age.  He was actually nervous today.  I could tell.  He has never been nervous about going to school.  He loves school but this year he has grades and SOL's and he has a teacher that gives a lot of homework so I think he had some butterflies.  I too have some butterflies today.  I am nervous and excited for him but I am also nervous and excited for me.  I have about two and a half months until my marathon.  I was originally going to do Chicago which is about a month away but I got too tangled up in my overalls and had been having crappy runs and some emotional issues with those crappy runs so I decided to beg off and cancel that one and stick with Richmond which is in November.  Thus giving me more time to mull over my crappy runs and hopefully learn something from them.  What I have learned is this...I have to lose some weight!!!!!!!  Oh My Gawd if I could just lose 40 pounds, I know I could run faster!!!!  So just had to get that out.  That is really just the pity party that has been going on in my head for the past few months.  I swore up and down that I would not return to the bus stop the same weight as in June.  And here I am.  But you know, I realized that the problem wasn't that I failed once again at the diet thing - it was that I failed to plan correctly.  How the hell am I supposed to lose a bunch of weight when I have little Honey Bunny home all the time wanting to go get slurpee's and ice cream.  How do you drop some l b's when all you have in your house is ham and cheese and pirate booty because that is the healthiest thing you can get down your little 8 year old's gullet?  And let's not even get started with the snow cones and cotton candy at Busch Gardens and the baseball games.  Oh and I have some sweet memories of some margaritas and beers by my good friend's pool. Oh and the Dave Matthews Band shows.  Yum. Did I mention that I just got home from the beach (Gorgeous Kiawah Island) where diet mayhem insued? (Hint...Shrimp and Grits)

Deep Breath In.


Let it go.


AAAAAaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

O.K.

So the summer is a crappy time to start dieting.  Who knew?  Well I should have if I thought about it long enough. The pressure we women put on ourselves always astounds me.  If I have heard it once, I have heard it a million times.  "When my kids get on that bus I am going to...(fill in the blank here with your lofty goal)"  You know, how about a little goal?  How about, when my kids get on that bus I am going to, make my bed, brush and floss my teeth, drink a glass of water (most of you need to put down that bloody mary anyway!!!) meditate, put in a load of laundry, clean out one drawer.  My goal today was to blog because I have missed it terribly.  So here I am, already 10AM and I have reached my goal.  Wow - what an accomplishment.  Yeah Me!!!!!! There is some commercial that I really like and for the life of me I can't figure out what the product is but it has something to do with making good choices and how one choice begats another.  So if you are eating a donut and you take the elevator and you eat pizza for lunch and you have a latte in the afternoon and you stay up late watching tv then your life is basically shit and it is your fault.  BUT if you eat some magic happy healthy bar in the morning, take the stairs, eat a salad for lunch, drink some water and go to bed early, then oh happy day you deserve an award.  So one thing at a time ladies and gentlemen,  let's eat the magic happy healthy bar and pat ourselves on the back.  I think the rest will come later and naturally.
Personally I am patting myself on the back for just getting little honey bunny on the bus today all in one piece.  We survived another summer together and now he is a third grader.  And I have another chance to regain my composure and dive head first into reaching my goals.  Today I start with a brand new notebook and a brand new pen.  Much like my son.

On the verge of wrecking the car!!!

WOW!!!!!!!!!!!  Have you ever kept track of your calories?  I mean actually written down every morsel of food and calculated how much you have ingested?  Did you know that it doesn't take much to eat tons of food?  For instance, today I am starving.  I have been hungry all day long.  I don't know why.  I went on a puny run of three miles and have not been doing anything else all day.  But for whatever reason I have been keeping track of all of my calories, honestly everything. So truly, if it went in my mouth I put it on paper.  So I get to 4:00 PM and decide I would add up so that I could see how many calories I have left for dinner.  And you know what?  I have already eaten 1720 calories.  ONE THOUSAND SEVEN HUNDRED AND TWENTY!!!!  I thought, maybe a thousand.  Holy Crap.  

Honey Bunny gave me a challenge last night.  He said if I lost 30 pounds by his marathon I could have a shopping spree and he would fund it.  Now this may seem shallow for some but for me...I love clothes and I LOVE shopping.  I have not been shopping in some time and I have certainly not enjoyed shopping in years.  Once you get past size 12, shopping is a giant pain in the ass.  It's not really a question of "does this make me look fat", it's more a question of "does this not make me look like such a huge fat ass?"  Harsh, yes, but true.  So this marathon is in three months.  That's 10 pounds a month for three months in a row.  This means that during my marathon training and during my actual marathon I have to lose a tremendous amount of weight.  Now honey bunny runs marathons and he knows how hard it is to control your eating when you are in the end stages of preparing for a race.  You really can't control your eating and you can't control your appetite.  You are literally hungry all the time.  So why you say, must honey bunny be so cruel?  I honestly don't think he thought about it.  Probably because he knew I would think it to death.  And I have.  TO the DEATH!!!  Coming up with a million excuses as to why this is going to be impossible.  I also know that when I get to my goal weight, no matter if it is 2022, Honey Bunny is going to give me his wallet.  So today I thought I would just write down what I was eating and try to calculate it.  Knowing I need to stay somewhere between 1500 and 1800 calories I figured I would be somewhere in there.  Especially since knowing I was going to write it down hopefully I would control myself.  So this is what I have eaten today.

One half of an organic raw bar, a vivano orange, mango, banana smoothie from Starbucks, a handful of inchi seeds, one quarter of a wedge of cantaloupe, egg salad on a small roll, a large serving of fruit salad, some tostitos with homemade guacamole, one slice of bread with nutella, and a small bag of veggie chips. That is 1720 calories.  So technically I have 80 calories left for dinner and I have to run 14 miles tomorrow.  So that is a given that I will eat more than 1800 calories, possibly more than 2000.  I need to balance out the right amount of fuel and health and calories in order to have an efficient run tomorrow.  

In the past I probably would have just ordered a big fat pizza and some wings and not given it another thought.  Oh, I will just try again tomorrow.  But tomorrow is Saturday and then there is the rest of the weekend and I have to run.  So that puts it starting on Monday.  Why not today?  If I eat a healthy, dinner worth about 350 to 400 calories, that means that I eat somewhere around 2100 calories.  Minus the three mile run from this morning, that puts me at roughly 1800 calories.  So perhaps the damage isn't too bad.  Perhaps, I can salvage this day and not put my work in the toilet.  Perhaps, my self destructive thoughts occur when I think I have done something and I am right on the bubble.  Who really knows.  I feel like I am close to figuring it all out.  

Five Zero Three One Fifty Six

Visualization is a great tool.  I have been told by many marathoners that this is the key to success in many instances.  I once took a seminar that had a sports psychologist tell us that not only is it important to visualize your success but how you do it is also important.  For instance, when you see yourself finishing are you seeing yourself as if you are floating above the air and you are below you, or are you actually seeing the finish lines through your own eyes, are you actually in your person seeing the course.  According to this guy, seeing your success in your own person is more successful than the other way.  

So for the last few months I have been working on this trick.  Every workout, every run, every meal I have been looking at the finish line.  The clock on the finish line says 5:03 and the number on the scale says 156.  I am not sure why this is the number.  These numbers came to me during a particularly brutal workout and I just knew that I could not do this.  Somehow, this is my goal for October.

So where have I been for the last few months?  I have not been really losing weight, that's for sure.  Trying some new diets here and there, working on running faster and some training.  Nothing concrete.  Where did my resolve go to be relentless?  Well it went out the window when I found out I had a pinched meniscus and needed PT for the next six weeks and no running or training for three.  I have gotten through that but that was not a good month for me.  Eating, drinking and a slight depression followed.  Probably explains why I haven't been at the computer for some time.  I have been injured before but this was a little different.  Just when you wrap your brain around the amount of work you have to do and then you set a really achievable goal and you get excited, some sort of proverbial rug gets pulled out from under you.

WAAHHH!!!!!!WWWAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Are you violins playing?  Are they tiny?  

O.K.  so I am pulling myself up by the bootstraps.  Here's the drill.  I gained a little bit of weight at the beginning of May during the hiatus - keep in mind I couldn't do anything...no cardio at all.  Very Very difficult.  So that put me up to 184.5.  Almost an all time high since becoming a marathoner.  So I started official Chicago training the last weekend of May.  I am doing the intermediate training program with a few changes here and there and I am running much slower than my race pace.  I have been able, so far to get in all of my runs.  I have hired a personal trainer who has a degree in nutrition and has run two marathons and has signed up for his third.  He gave me a diet plan to follow which I have been mostly.  I have had to tweak it a little since my runs are getting up in there and I am noticing a fuel deficit on the day of the long run.  He is also giving me a butt kicking twice a week.  So, now I am at 178.00.  I tend to go down and up two pounds at a time.  I will gain and lose two pounds from week to week but then all of a sudden these two pounds will be gone.  

I am also drinking alot less - maybe once or twice a week.  The last thing that is working for me is the amount of sleep I am getting.  At least 8 hours every night.  Totally awesome.  Love, love, love the sleep.

I am continuing with Physical Therapy but it seems as if they are getting ready to graduate me and I will probably only need to go back for a tuneup here and there.  

So that is where I am.  Back to blog.  Thanks for hanging in there and waiting for me.  I am very very happy to be back!

Happy Running,

Sarah

Relentless in My Pursuit

Well, Well, Well.  Here I am.  We have had record snow and record heat all in one week.  It is always surprising to me how things can change on a dime.  I feel I am acutely aware of the weather when I am running outside.  My body can tell me within five minutes if it is too humid, too rainy, too windy or if I am not adequately dressed - like too much clothing or too little.  I know if I should have brought my sunglasses or fuel belt and I definitely know if I should have used body glide or sunscreen or even more deodorant.  

You would think my stomach could tell me when to stop eating!!!!!!  But as we all know, hunger is a vast pit of definition. Not merely are we hungry for food but what else are we all hungry for. I know what I am hungry for but we'll get to that later.  I know you are all dying to know did I go?  The answer is yes.  I have been going to Weight Watchers.  I have been going every Monday except for the snow storm.  SO I have been four times in five weeks.  I have lost 4.8 pounds.  I lost 2.8 the first week and then 2 more pounds the second week.  And then the snow came.  Three days of being inside with little honey bunny and no activity just threw me into a tail spin of noshing and baking.  I know I could have gone outside and enjoyed the snow and done some sledding and some walking around but I got to tell you - I hate being cold and wet.  More than hot and sweaty which is not especially pleasant either.  When I was training for the Disney Marathon I had this one training run that was just brutal.  It poured on us, and it was 30 degrees.  We had to run 12 miles in the pouring rain and cold.  I normally love the rain because it gives me that extra bad ass edge and makes me feel superior to all the other runners that hit the treadmill.  If I can't be faster than I have to take my victories when I can get them.  But this training run was so awful that I swore off the rain.  I was so wet and cold that I thought I would never get warm.  My feet and hands were completely prune like and I had water in my ears.  My hands were close to frostbite and I almost had to cut my running bra off because it was so stuck to me.  Unfortunately even the fact that this was the first snow my son had really ever seen I couldn't bring myself to go out and burn some calories.  So I ate and I drank and I made cookies.  For three days.  But when little honey bunny finally got back on the school bus I hauled my butt to the gym and I worked out every day until I had to weigh in on Monday.  Which is why I gave them my no weigh in pass.  This little slip of paper comes in handy for small emergencies like the snow storm.  You can attend the meeting but not step on the scale.  Now I had weighed myself at home every day.  I am one of those compulsive people that must weigh every day.  I actually do better when I step on the scale.  If I don't for long periods of time that means I really have fallen off some sort of wagon and I don't want to deal.  Not knowing is just terrorizing for me.  It's also paralyzing because then I think if I don't know the number than I cannot possibly be responsible for my behaviour.  Knowledge is power for me.  Some days I have let the scale be responsible for my mood.  If the number is high than I am bummed out and hard on myself.  If the number is low than I am happy and it is a good day.  But truly, I think about my weight and my battle with it daily anyway.  I have spent years beating myself up for it and praising myself for it and have even gone to therapy to stop it but the truth is - it is a part of me.  I had this big epiphany at my meeting yesterday. I was sitting with mostly older women and the topic of the day was exercising.  Now, I know a lot about exercising.  I am really really good at exercising.  I have run marathons.  I go to the gym.  I lift weights.  I have had a trainer.  I want to be a trainer.  So when these "older" women were going on and on about how they just love to put on K.C. and the Sunshine Band and dance around the room and how they used their grandchild's hula hoop yesterday, I just want to roll my eyes at them (and I am a supremely good eye roller) and say "For God's Sake, get your old fat ass off the chair and go for a run!!!!!!!!"  Now I know that this is so judgemental and I should be shot for this but it is my blog.  So for a split second while I was sitting in my chair feeling sooooooooo superior I realized that I was sitting in the chair too.  I was at a weight watchers meeting too.  Most of those oldies but goodies were thinner than me.  They had been coming longer than me and some of them had already lost more weight than I have to lose.  They actually knew something that I have not learned yet.  They have accomplished and mastered their dietary habits.  Yep.  Ate some humble pie yesterday.  So I went out to my car in tears - not because I was sad that I hadn't lost any weight but because I realized I have yet to really try.  I mean really really try.  I mean really really try hard.  Do my best.  I haven't done it yet.  I haven't really tried as hard as I possibly can.  I haven't thrown the crap out of my pantry.  I haven't eaten enough fruits and vegetables.  It has been a long time since I have worked out 6 - 7 days a week.  I haven't really had consistent sleep in months.  I haven't hydrated since the Disney marathon.  I haven't given up wine at night.  I haven't chosen to eat at home all the time where I can control the food and my choices.  This weight loss thing is going to be hard for me.  I come from a family of big fat people.  If I really want this I need to be disciplined and work hard.  I have only done this a handful of times in my life.  I am not kidding.  I may not be genetically gifted but I am extremely lucky.  I would also like to think that I am karmically blessed because I try to be a nice person and do the right thing.  

So I got in my car on Monday and I called Honey Bunny and I told him that I was going to be relentless in my pursuit of skinny.  No one was going to get in my way.  No one was going to derail me and my intentions of getting fit and trim.  I was going to use every resource available to me to get me where I need to be.  You can join me or you can get the hell off my bus.  

What Scares me the Most

So I can't do it by myself.  I cannot do it on my own.  I need some help.  I thought that by being a 41 year old woman I was mature, smart, organized, responsible, knowledgeable, and most importantly, strong enough to do this all by myself.  I will just count some calories, weigh some food, up my workouts and I will drop the weight.  Well I sort of did all of it.  Well some of the time.  Well not really.  But I did do it some.  And I didn't lose any weight.  Not a pound.  I tried to do better, be better, fuel better.  I couldn't do it.  Then all of a sudden January turned into February and I felt this horrible, familiar feeling creeping up inside me that it was going to be June and I will show up at marathon training and I will not have changed one thing.  

I have this fantasy.  Marathon Training starts on June 6th.  The first time I showed up for marathon training Honey Bunny took off for his team and his friends and left me to sit in the bleachers waiting for the meeting to begin all by myself.  I had never been so terrified in my entire life.  I was all alone in a stadium of a thousand people and I was the biggest fraud.  I tentatively looked around at the all of the athletes that were surrounding me and they all looked liked they belonged there.  Not me.  No sir. However, I stuck it out and dug deep and became a marathoner.  Somewhere between the beginning of that summer and the finish line I found out who I really am.  AMAZING!!!!

The next summer I sauntered into the stadium and jumped into the arms of all of my marathoning friends.  I left honey bunny to go sit with MY friends and fellow teammates.  I belonged.  I fit in.  I was welcomed.  I had already proven myself.  

But I was still fat.  I did not really look like a marathoner.  Believe me when I say this though - looks can certainly be deceiving and if you ever want to learn the lesson of not judging a book by it's cover than you need to hit the finish line of a marathon or even a 10K.  There have been many many people fatter than me that have dusted me on a run.  So I know this to be true but it doesn't make it any less truer for me that I don't want to be the person that everyone else is surprised by.  When I say I run marathons, I want people to say "do you?" instead of "you do?"

So, back to my fantasy.  This June I want to walk into the stadium for the first meeting and I want everyone to say - where the hell is Sarah?  Has anyone seen Sarah?  I want to be unrecognizable in my size Medium Nike Shorts.  My ultimate dream involves someone saying, excuse me - but you must be on the Black Team (these are the fast people that don't have to wear shirts when running and they are all trying to qualify for Boston)

So that's the fantasy.  And that is the reason why on Monday - yesterday - I went to Weight Watchers.  Yes I am depressed.  Today I stayed at home in the bed thinking I had come down with the flu.  Really I don't think I wanted to count any points.  I need help.  I can't do it on my own.  It's not that I can't face the scale.  I face it every day.  I know exactly how much I weigh.  I can't face the work.  I have never wanted to work hard.  I have never had to work hard.  When things get hard I don't do them.  I am good at being lazy.  

Now you may think this is crazy talk.  I have run a marathon.  Two marathons.  I have trained for two years for two really hard things.  I have not quit, I have been dedicated.  I have often tried to conjure the strength and guts it took to train and put it towards weight loss.  Counting points is infinitely not as rewarding as going for a run.  Weighing spaghetti does not give me a buzz.  10 miles does.  

I have also sustained a wonderful marriage to honey bunny - yes we've had some difficulties like everyone but we have made it work.  And I have given it work and love and patience.  Something I seem not able to give myself when the choice is between spinach and brownies.  

I can also mention that I have given birth to my little honey bunny and difficult pregnancy aside (which it was) I must say I have done a darn good job raising my little hellion.  He is awesome and smart and funny and caring and he just warms my heart at the mere thought of him.  

So when the hard work involves me getting something wonderful out of it and I enjoy it and I seem to show a small amount of talent then I jump all over it.  Love it, love it, love it.  

When it comes to food - I can't control it.  I believe that if it were heroin that I chose I would be in some alley or dead.  If it were alcohol, I would be at an AA meeting every day.  It has been shopping before but I have tried to control that and I have always had food as my backup.  

Honey Bunny wants me to be excited and get totally psyched up for committing to a plan and doing the work.  I wish it were that easy.  I am so afraid that I will let him down again.  That I will have wasted the money again.  That I will not be able to lose the weight.  That this journey will never end and I will give up like my Mom did.  That I will lose and the weight will win.  

I am afraid that I will never ever be able to stop myself from eating or binging.  I am afraid that I will never have a healthy relationship with food.  I am afraid that this is the best I will ever look.  I am afraid that I cannot do it.  I am afraid that I cannot do it.  I am afraid that I will never do it. I am afraid that my son will look at me with pity.  That he will grow up and wish that I had just lost the weight.  

When I thought that it was the weight that was causing my infertility, I couldn't lose it then.  When I found out my weight was causing my blood pressure and cholesterol to be out of whack, I couldn't lose it then.  When I had gestational diabetes and the doctor told me I would get adult onset diabetes unless I controlled my weight, I didn't lose it then.  

I have only wanted to lose it for vanity reasons.  I just want to be smaller.  I want to look better, I want to go into the store and try on a size 10 and it be too big.  I want people to look at me at the gym.  I want people to check me out when I am running and not for my gigantic breasts.  I want all of my hard work at the gym to pay off.  I don't think I will be happier when I am thinner.  I know I will be.  I am not waiting for my life to begin.  I am not putting anything on hold.  I am living and participating and dreaming and working and loving and going and doing.  I just want to look hot as shit while I am doing it.  That is my motivation.  What scares me the most is that my motivation is not as strong as my sabotaging.  I'll let you know after my meeting next Monday.

D Day

Hello from the Chilly State of Virginia,

BRRRRRRR it is cold here.  What does the cold make you think of?  It makes me think of fires, blankets, cashmere socks, chili, bourbon, red wine, beef stew, crusty french bread with butter, mashed potatoes, pie, macaroni and cheese.  O.K. I know there are more food examples than anything - can you tell I am on a diet?

So January 15th rolled around before I knew it.  I ran the Disney Marathon on Sunday and spent the next few days recovering, resting and eating.  I didn't work out.  I celebrated with food and wine and I woke up on January 15th, feeling like crap.  I thought I was giving my body what it needed but really I was trying to give my mind what I thought I deserved and had earned.  Instead of resting, stretching, going for walks, and eating nutritious foods and drinking water I did the opposite - trying to get in the last few days of debauchery before D Day.  Don't we all do that?  Order the pizza and go get the tub of ice cream because that is the last time I will have that?  You know our bodies go into a similar starvation mode when we drastically cut calories.  Our metabolism shuts down when it gets the message that it is about to be starved.  All of the fat that is hanging out on our thighs starts screaming feed me because I am the calorie monster.  What little calories we get go straight to the monsters and they eat them like little Pac Men.  That means that we don't actually lose any weight, we just hold onto whatever we have.  So it is ironic that most of us go on some sort of binge before we diet because our minds turn into those little monsters and scream - better eat that entire cheesecake tonight because it is off limits after that.  

This leads me to the beginning of my plan.  When I looked at Diets - and I have looked at all of them, I was looking for something that was doable for the long term.  Something that would allow me the ability to cheat every now and then.  It was then that I realized a plan was not going to allow me to cheat.  I needed to look not at a plan, but to look at my own way of living and eating.  A lifetime commitment of healthy eating is what is called for here - not a plan that I follow for two months and then when I am done - where do I go from here.  What I need is to find the proper amount of calories that I can eat in order to maintain my desired weight.  And then from there I need to figure out of those calories, which are going to be junk and which are going to be quality.  I have definitely found a connection between quality food and nutrition and training.  My runs are superior after a week of salads, salmon, fruits and oatmeal - no question.  I think this is the main reason I am not going the Weight Watchers route.  I tend to use the majority of my points on crap rather than lettuce and turkey.  I also don't think that Weight Watchers is most compatible with my training.  Nothing against WW.  I support their vision and what they have done for millions of people is amazing but I don't think it will be the plan for me.  

I do like the idea of eating foods that are organic and I really like eating foods that pack a nutritional wallop.  I love learning about new foods such as the Acai berry, flax seed, and I am recently a huge Wheat Grass convert.  I really enjoy going to a local farm and picking my own blueberries or heading down to the farmer's market and picking up organic eggs that are still warm.  I love reading about how food is manufactured and processed.  This is for another day but I have visited a chicken processing plant and I am here to tell you - it AIN'T PRETTY!!!!!!

So I realized after all of this thought that food is not my problem.  Well actually it is my problem.  Too much food.  Too much of the wrong food.  I understand the connection of health and nutrition.  Of nurturing myself with healthy, bountiful food.  That great food equals great nutrition equals great health and fitness.  The problem and difficulty with this is of course time. Who has time to shop fresh every day and prepare food on a daily basis.  No one has that much time.  We all have jobs, lives, kids, husbands, friends, things, that get in the way of a healthy lifestyle.  

So that gets into the next part of my plan which is planning the plan.  I used to have this incredibly annoying boss that used to say to me plan your work and work your plan.  Yeah I am rolling my eyes too - but there is some truth and usefulness to this.  My plan involves looking at nutritional information, looking at calorie counts, writing stuff down, weighing stuff, knowing what I am eating at any given moment and cooking at home for the most part.  I can find out how many calories are in my Starbucks Latte but I won't know exactly what is in my sushi when I go out.  Therefore, lots of home cooking for me.  Fortunately I love to cook but it does get old day after day.  I frequently find myself at 5:30 freaking out because I have nothing planned and I still have not gotten all of my work done.  I have called Honey Bunny many nights begging for him to pick up dinner.  

So here is my commitment for D Day.  This is how my plan will be laid out at first.  These changes are the ones that I am implementing in the first month.  

1) I will be eating between 1600 and 1800 calories a day.

2) I will write everything down.

3) I will add up all of my caloric totals every day.

4) I am only weighing once a week - on Thursday mornings.

5) I am eating three meals and at least two snacks every day.

6) I am cutting my alcohol consumption by at least 50%.

7) I am largely following the "Clean Eating Plan" developed by Tosca Reno.

8) I am going to spend a large amount of time delving into my bad habits and why I do them over and over again.

The last one is the hardest.  Anyone can follow a plan but doing the hard work to look into why you eat in the first place is a big deal.  For me - three o'clock in the afternoon is difficult for me. I can start eating at three and continue until my son comes home from school which is around four.  I can eat for one solid hour in front of the TV.  I am usually unwinding from the day or stressing about what I have not gotten done and my son is coming home and I will need to spend time with him and then dinner needs to be ready and then Honey Bunny is coming home and then I can start drinking and then my kitchen is a mess and the laundry is not done and then I have to get in the bed and - deep breath - then it has to start all over again.  

So today - I fixed myself a cup of steaming hot green tea and sat down in front of my laptop and started writing.  It is now after four and the need to eat has passed - the day will still be there tomorrow with more laundry and dishes.  But for today I was triumphant.  I ate well.  I exercised well.  I worked well.  What more could one ask for in a 24 hour period?

Wishing you all love in vegetables!!!!!!!

Sarah

 

It was the best of taper. It was the worst of taper.

Good Morning,

I love taper madness.  I hate taper madness.  That lovely time before a race when you cannot work out or run and you have to eat more salt and carbs.  One should embrace this however, it can be cruel and unusual punishment for some of us.  Me actually.  After having six months of running buzzes and feeling amazing in my being I can't break a sweat.  After six months of fueling nutrition and eating everything that is good for me - now I must eat whole grain pasta and V-8 juice.  Still somewhat nutritious but it makes me feel like a puffer fish.  On top of all of that my extreme race anxiety has kicked in and I have no outlet to get over it.  Other than yelling at Honey Bunny.  Luckily for me he is also a marathoner and he gets it. 

I had my first marathon running dream last night.  I was running and running and running.  Which is what you do in a marathon.  No I wasn't doing it naked but I do remember my feet shuffling and it was really hot.  So I wake up this morning thinking I have missed me marathon - slept right through it.  Can you imagine?  Missing something you have trained six months for, lost time with your family for, lost your toenails for.  Just because you couldn't haul your ass out of bed on time.  These are the things that are keeping me up right now.  Oh the madness...oh the absurdity.  

I was meeting with my wonderful neighbors earlier this week and our discussion started a thought process that has taken me a few days to work through and it has got me thinking about a few things.  This group started meeting a few years ago to kick off a weight loss, healthy eating, dieting, losing weight, getting fit and becoming overall healthier superstars.  Of course we have had some successes and some failures but what I realized is that we kicked off 2009 all with the same goals.  We also kicked off 2009 at the same starting place as 2008.  Wondering where the year had gone and why were we still having trouble getting our pants buttoned.  

Oprah has also kicked in her new year with the same resolution and asking herself the same questions.  How did I get here again?  I think she may have the answer but I don't think it is in the team of experts she regularly surrounds herself with.  I think as women we do not know how to love ourselves enough to give ourselves the gift of health.  We could argue that potato chips just taste better.  And they do.  We could argue that there is not enough time in the day to get our work done, have time with our families, clean our house, etc...and there isn't.  We could argue that there isn't enough money to pay for the tres expensive produce we need to sustain our bodies or the nice gym that gives us a great workout option...and there sometimes isn't.  But these are really just excuses.  Really they are.  You can yell at me all you want.  You can call me all the names you want.  I am right.  How do I know I am right?  Because those excuses are all just the tip of iceberg of my list.  I saw a quote on another blog a few days ago and I can't remember the whole thing but it made reference to at the end of your life you will either have a bunch of successes or a list of excuses why you didn't accomplish them.  

For me, I have made finally the connection between the last piece of the puzzle and my total success at being healthy.  The exercise for me is no problem.  I workout more than most of my friends and family.  I spend more time pounding the pavement and lifting weights than most women my age.  I am still not at a healthy weight.  The last piece of the puzzle for me is the eating.  As a certified running coach and as a runner myself, I have spoken to many many people about not exercising and the dangers of not giving this gift to yourself.  I have posted in a previous blog about making my son go to the gym with me because it is the difference between and nice mommy and a mean one.  I have overcome the whole issue of time management and training.  Not many things get in the way of my run or workout.  

The problem for me is that I let everything get in the way of my diet.  I got issues, yeah we all do but this time I feel a sense of empowerment because I finally realized the whole connection.  Eating right is another gift to give myself.  My parents used to tell me that as a child I just needed too much love.  While some of you may be sad right now - I have dealt with all of this and moved on.  The only reason I bring it up is because I always looked to my Honey Bunny and my son to fill that void I didn't get from my parents.  I grew up looking to get it from my friends which is why I ate when I wasn't with them.  Now I have a good relationship with my parents, I have a wonderful partner for life and the most wonderful son a mother could ask for.  I just never learned how to stop eating.  What I know this time is a healthy life is the best form of love.  I can give myself the love that I have always needed and wanted by living the cleanest, healthiest life possible.  If I can give myself this  - my husband and son won't have quite the burden of loving me so much.  They can love themselves.  This is a gift I can give my child that I didn't get but most importantly it is the gift I can give myself.  I will never find the answers or the support or the love at the bottom of a potato chip bag although God knows I have looked for it there.  I have found all of those things at the finish line though.  Food for thought??!!!

So today I eat - and I don't workout.  But I am kinder to myself than before and I am really looking forward to January 15th.  This is D -Day for me.  This will give me plenty of time to recover from the Marathon and shop for me new diet which I will unveil next week.  

I beg the question today.  Do you love yourself enough to do the work?  If you don't love yourself at this weight, or fitness level, or place in your life than isn't it worth the effort to look into changing it?  I am pretty sure I know the answer.

Happy Running,

Sarah

Get Your Ass Up That Hill

Hello,

So I was just laughing hysterically with Honey Bunny over a few not-so-fond memories of my fitness adventures.  Some of these have been outright disasters.  I am very pleased to report however that there have been more successes than failures.  The failures though are downright duds - and unfortunately for me and the people around me at the time they were somewhat public.  

When I was growing up I didn't exercise at all.  I was on the local swim team and actually did quite well until most of the kids signed up for a year round league.  That left me totally unable to compete with them when summer rolled around again.  I tried tennis and wasn't really that good although I loved the clothes and the sound of the shoes screeching against the court and the noise that was made as the racket hit the ball.  Didn't keep me on the court though.  I also tried golf which - I am shuddering over this - landed me in such hot water with my father that I never played it again.  I was 11 and going through very very early puberty - I had already had my period for a year at that point - and was very awkward and had no coordination.  I hope all of the golfers will forgive me for this but golf is not a sport.  It does not take some super athletic ability to play this game.  What it does take though is practice and coordination and a huge dose of patience.  I had none of these.  So my dad who is an avid golfer forks the big bucks over so I will play.  I took a summer of miserable lessons with boys and at the end of the summer we had a mini tournament.  During this tournament I was playing so poorly but one hole stands out above all the rest.  I swung at the ball on the tee about 12 times and missed each time.  I threw the club and started crying.  I am sure your heart is going out to me but read on.  My father comes up to the tee and says to me in front of everyone.  If you can't learn how to behave on the course you cannot play.  So I didn't.  Ever again.  Boy I showed him.

I tried track.  Loved it again for the uniforms.  I really just wanted to be part of a team and my friends were doing it.  I tried the hurdles.  I scraped my knee so badly hitting every hurdle that I still have a scar.  I had one race and then I retired.  

When I was growing up we didn't have gyms.  Not like today.  There wasn't really a family oriented place where everyone went to workout.  My parents didn't work out.  They had golf and tennis and that was about it.  Those were the days of aerobics.  I vaguely remember doing "The 20-minute Workout" which was on TV.  Does anyone remember that?  It had two or three women working out with leotards and head bands and leg warmers.  Full makeup and Farrah hair.  They would have these camera shots that were between their legs and on their butts.  It was really more like porn come to think of it.  But I did the workout in my basement.  I also had a short bout of Kathy Smith type workouts but never Jane Fonda.  Skipped that whole rage.  I didn't do anything in college and even though I was skinny I looked kind of ill.  

I started a job where I had a good friend that worked out all the time.  She had an awesome body.  I mean really, one you would kill for.  Small ass, huge boobs, muscular but long legs.  Bitch.

Anyway, I was able to be the bigger person and look past all of her amazing physical endowments and see her for the wonderful person she was.  She took me to the gym.  My first gym.  I hit the StairMaster and never looked back - at least for a while.  I loved that thing.  Too bad as we have all learned it makes your butt big.  Whatever, at least I was sweating.  I was single and the place was a meat market.  I tried step aerobics but one class was all it took for me to swear that off forever.  Way too much coordination needed.  So I lifted a few weights and learned to do a few crunches and had a good time.  But eventually I stopped going because it got too hard to workout and get in all my smoking and drinking.  

SO I meet Honey Bunny and I get fat.  We don't really care about this and my lack of physical activity did not get in our way until we decided to go back packing one weekend with some friends.  Honey Bunny was just reminding me of how we went to Blue Ridge Mountain Sports to get some stuff for the trip and I was all excited about buying the crap to get ready.  Are you sensing a theme here?  So we get ready and we drive to the mountain and we park our car, strap on the backpack and I admire my brand new hiking boots and off we go.  For about four minutes.  Literally we get to the base of the mountain which has a very very SLIGHT incline and I am huffing and puffing.  So I quit.  I decide sleeping in the car would be a better option.  Honey Bunny waves our friends on.  "We'll meet you at the top!"  He says.  HAH.  I developed a pattern on the climb.  I would walk for about three minutes.  Cry for two.  Yell at Honey Bunny for six and then want to vomit for one.  The walking interval became shorter the more we climbed.  They yelling interval became longer.  I can only imagine that this was pure hell for Honey Bunny because it was so awful for me.  We get to the spot where we are camping and then they all inform me that we have to go to the top of this godforsaken mountain to catch the view.  What the fuck?  Who gives a shit about the view.  This time at least we had no packs but the climb was literally (at least in my mind) vertical.  And I mean straight the hell up.  Rocky and steep.  More torture for Honey Bunny.  We were not even married at this point so the fact that we just celebrated our 13th wedding anniversary means something to me.  We get to the top where our friends have been waiting for us and I was so pissed at myself and everyone around me for making this look easy and fun and I was so completely embarrassed that I walked to the edge of the mountain (no I didn't throw myself off - duh) that I turned right around and started climbing back down.  I really wanted to die.  So what did I do?  I got to the campsite and lit up a cigarette.  WOW!!!!!!  

When we got back from that Honey Bunny and I decided we had to join a gym.  More torture?  Why not.  We joined this little gym down the street and I went shopping.  The theme again.  New shoes, new shorts, new shirts.  Sweet.  The night before we went I remember looking out of my window from my way cool apartment in Charlottesville - back story - I lived in the pink warehouse where Dave Matthews played his first concert.  Oh yeah - I am that cool.

O.K. so I am looking out of the window and I am crying.  I am crying because I have for the very first time realized that I was fat.  I was living the life of my Mom and it had all caught up to me and losing the weight was not going to be nearly as much fun as gaining it.  It took me three days of fits and breakdowns to make it to my first workout.  Getting to that gym was very very similar to getting up that mountain.  

But then something changed.  Honey Bunny and I decided six months after we got married to quit smoking.  Cold Turkey.  We also decided that we were going to get to the gym at 5:00 AM every morning before work.  And we did it.  We quit smoking - haven't had one in 12 and 1/2 years. That was the first time I ever ran. I ran on the treadmill.  That first run the day after I stopped smoking was the worst run I have ever had.  And I only ran about 2 of 30 minutes.  The rest I walked.  But I got better.  Not really faster but I got to the point that I could run 4 miles on the treadmill.  SUCCESS.

We move to New York.  We are lonely.  We join a gym.  We go for awhile. We drink way too much.  Every night.  I get pregnant.  Now believe it or not I was actually banned from working out.  So I didn't.  Not until we moved back to Va.  

We joined a gym and I went with my little honey bunny who hated it but I made him go.  I always told him it was the difference between me being a nice mommy and a mean mommy.  So he went.  

It wasn't until that fateful January Day when "L" and I stepped out with our brand new running shoes that I started my running career.  I was hooked.  I sucked and I wasn't fast but running was like heroin for me.  I wanted to do other races.  I wanted to be able to run three miles without stopping.  I wanted to break my 13 minute mile record.  I wanted to wear the shorts without chafing.  I wanted to be like those people.  Those people that ran in just a running bra and shorts.  I looked at them as if they were gods and goddesses.  I just wanted to be in the same room as them.  Then Honey Bunny decided he was going to run the marathon.  Which he did in 2005.  Being a marathon widow totally sucks but I love him more than that and I really wanted this for him.  I was able to see him three times on the course.  I feel a welling up coming on but the last time was at the finish line.  When I saw him coming down the hill I was so overwhelmingly proud of him.  I could not believe that he had just done that.  It was so awesome.  But then I had to hang around a bunch of people who were marathoners.  I was intimidated but they were the nicest people ever.  I couldn't believe they were all marathoners.  They really didn't look it.  The 10K was not going to be enough for me.  Honey Bunny was the first person to say it and then my friend "Ethel" said it.  Could it be?  Could I do it?  NAH.  

But then I did.  I injured myself, I lost six toenails, I had chafes so bad that I still have the scars.  I cried more during the six months of training then I ever have before.  I wanted to quit, I threatened to quit, I tried to quit.  But I didn't.  I didn't quit.  For the first time in my life I didn't quit.  I had numerous chances and I didn't give in.  Running a marathon is the hardest physical and mental thing I have ever done.  SUCCESS.  

Finishing the marathon on November 10, 2007 (two days after my 40th birthday and the day of my son's birthday) single-handedly erased all of my previous failures.  Honey Bunny gave me the best advice.  He said - leave it all out on the road.  I did.  

Happy Running,

Sarah

Make a New Plan Stan

Howdy,

Last night I was talking on the phone with one of my best friends ever "L".  She asked me how was I going to lose the weight.  Do I have a plan?  Well of course I have a plan.  I have had a plan for the last 8 years.  My issue is not what is my plan - but putting that plan into place. I remember Oprah saying something like "It's not about the weight - it is what the weight represents.  And if you are not willing to do the work you will not be successful." Now before I go knocking Oprah - let me just say that while I feel for her being in the situation she is again- Oprah has actually had more weight loss success than I have.  She also ran a four and one half hour marathon.  So no bustin on my girl 'cause as far as I am concerned she has done what I have not.  So here is my diet history - it is shorter than some and longer than others but I will go over it anyway, more for my sake than yours.

My first diet was Weight Watchers.  Good ole, trustworthy, always reliable and completely proven Weight Watchers.  I really think this is a great organization.  They have three things going for them.  Accountability, Journaling and Motivation.  Their point system is just a fancy way of counting calories.  You still have to measure, you still have to weigh and you still have to count.  It just doesn't seem as daunting or as mundane.  And 25 points sounds much better than 1300 calories.  But you are still eating just 1300 calories. If you like going to the meetings and hearing every one's weekly story and struggles and victories and this motivates you to do a better job then by all means go.  Have a sit and a listen.  For me I hated it.  I found that every week everyone was talking about the same thing.  I did like the meeting leader - she was pretty and spunky and skinny and I wanted to be her.  But it was not enough to keep me there.  So I tried their brand new (at the time) online system.  This worked really well for me and I lost my first significant amount of weight - about 24 pounds.  I kept it off until I became pregnant.  All bets were off after pregnancy.  This brings me to my second diet while I was pregnant.  As I mentioned previously I had gestational diabetes.  And I had it bad.  I like to say I had a double helping of diabetes because I was immediately put on a very restrictive diet and insulin.  I gave myself shots in the stomach and the fingers all day long.  I carried a timer around my neck that went off every ninety minutes so I would remember to eat.  Now when I say restrictive, it was only restrictive in the carb sense.  I actually had to eat around 2400 calories every day.  I actually mean Had to.  Once you go on insulin if you don't eat properly there is that coma problem or blackout issue that will creep up on you.  No good.  So I ate and ate and ate all day long.  I would eat EXACTLY what the dietitian told me to eat.  My snack would be 1/2 an apple and three cheese crackers.  For lunch I would often count out 14 goldfish with my sandwich. I had a food scale and various measuring cups and spoons.  I didn't write a thing down but every morsel that entered my mouth was a precise carb and calorie count.  I didn't gain anything during the last three months of my pregnancy.  Only my baby grew.  I have never before or ever sense stuck to a diet as religiously as that one.  I was scared and my motherly instincts took over.  Isn't it a shame that I can do that for my son and I can't do it for myself?  Wait for it - I see the light bulb going off....Isn't this the biggest issue of all for most women......OMG this will totally be an entry later.

O.K. back to the diet history.  So I have my baby and he has some health issues when he is born (ironically these had nothing to do with my health but of course being the Mom I took on all of the guilt).  So I was stressed and I had a sick new born and then he was healthy and I was relieved and then I brought him home and then he cried.  He screamed and screamed for five months.  Honey Bunny and I were living in New York alone.  We knew no one and nobody cared that we were ignorant parents with no family to help us.  This would be my third diet.  This was the wine and breastfeeding diet.  This diet was the most successful of my dieting career.  I actually lost all of my baby weight in six months.  Before everyone calls the CPS after me - I was very,very careful about pumping and nursing and drinking.  I was very efficient at getting it all done right.  If only I had applied those calculations to my calories I would have been much healthier.  As it was  I didn't and I wasn't.  

A year later we move back to Virginia - thank God.  Family and friends surrounded us.  We were back in the South.  I wasn't pregnant, my son was sleeping through the night - sort of.  And I got fat again.  What the hell is that horrible connection between fat and happy?   UGGGGGHHHHH.  Actually I stopped breast feeding was the big problem.  But I still had my wine.  So I toyed with about 8 to 10 other diets.  This was really the big era of the protein diets so I tried them all.  Bought the book.  Bought the food.  Did the diet.  For about a day.  Really.  Each diet was about a day.  So I thought to myself, self...you should try a really big financial commitment and order your food in a box through the mail and eat that.  So I did.  For about two weeks.  Let me just say that I really find food in a box that is not refrigerated particularly revolting.  What the hell is in that stuff?  Yuck yuck yuck,YUCK!!  I shouldn't be such a snob but one of the wonderful qualities that I have is that I am actually a very good cook.  You can ask most people - they like my cooking.  And I love to cook.  I love to cook for my family and my friends and I do it to show them love and I feel loved when they love my cooking.  So I know this line is also screaming at you - don't think I don't know that this is an issue.  Probably to be addressed again at a later time.  

After that I started exercising and just gave up on the diet.  I actually used exercising as a way to avoid dieting.  I thought I could get away with tons of working out and not eating salads.  It kind of worked.  I stayed off anti depressants and felt good in my skin and I felt fit and healthy.  Which is really a killer shot for your self esteem.  I think every woman and man out there and then tack on the kids should have exercise added to their daily routine.  If you are feeling better about yourself you are going to spend less time screaming at your kids, spouse, friends, employees, people on the street, etc.  Truly - can almost guarantee it.  

So I didn't lose any weight but I didn't gain much either.  Just stayed the same.  Until I started trying to have another baby.  When it didn't happen after two years and tons of drugs I started eating to kill the pain of failure.  I knew it was my fault and I knew it was the weight and I just couldn't lose it.  This turned out to not be the case at all.  I was actually in early menopause and there wasn't a doctor out there that would diagnose me properly.  SO as I watched my chances of growing my family disappear I was devastated.  I actually ran the Marathon to deal with my fertility or lack there of.  It helped and I did lose about 12 pounds but I was really doing everything I was supposed to be doing while training.  I ate right and drank tons of water and didn't drink a lot of wine and I went to bed early.  Let me just say that even though I wasn't at my ideal weight I had the best sleep and sex of my entire life during this period.  I was in total awe of my body and what I was accomplishing and the look of my body did change which Honey Bunny liked and I liked.  Honey Bunny is so sweet he likes me anyway but the important thing was how I felt and how I felt I looked.  It doesn't matter if you weigh 200 pounds - if you just ran 18 friggin miles no matter how slow - you are a total bad ass.  This could be TMI for some of you but honestly - what woman doesn't want better sleep or better sex? Or you guys ? 

Gotcha there.  Have I made my diet plan for the next four years?  Of course...is it new or different?  Does it include a magic pill?  Is my plan a diabolical one to get you hooked on my blog and then promise to help you lose those annoying 20 pounds?  No not so much.  It is not new.  I am in the process of designing it using all of the knowledge from my previous diets as well as the advice and information from friends who have successfully lost weight and kept it off.  I am running, on January 11, the Disney Marathon so when I return that next week I will be kicking my new plan into high gear and I will let you know every step of the way what and how I am doing.  The formula that I am looking for will be one that allows me to train and lose weight at the same time.  My pickle is that I can't really cut many calories when training but I do need to cut calories to lose weight.  My body will not lose weight at 2000 calories but I do have a hard time running long distances on 1300.  So somewhere in between is the answer.  Since my journey is in two parts - losing weight and running fast, tomorrow I will share with you my exercise history.  It is actually quite hilarious and not nearly so painful as my diet history.  Probably should be prepared for TMI again.  

Happy Running,

Sarah

I am making my son Sausage Biscuits for Breakfast

Good Morning.

Today I weigh 178.5.  Just thought I would get that out of the way.  Say it, write it, own it. The thing is this is not an unhappy number for me.  Would I like to weigh less?  Absolutely.  Have I weighed more?  You betcha.  I topped out at 197 about three years ago.  I probably weighed more - reaching that ubiquitous 200 mark or more but I stopped weighing.  All I remember is I couldn't fit in a size 16 anymore and had to go Lane Bryant.  I cried for three days.  I started training for the 10K at this weight.  I think I finished the race at this weight.  Trained for 10 weeks and didn't lose a pound.  Not an ounce.  I did however gain the beginning of what was some self confidence.  I remember running one mile, then two and so on and I couldn't believe I had done it.  I loved the feeling.  I didn't care how much I weighed.  I had just moved my body through space in a forward motion and it was awesome.  Hard but awesome.  So you see - you can run and run but sometimes, it ain't about the exercise - it is usually about the food.

Let's take a history of my situation.  A walk down information road for all of you that do not know me.  

I come from a long line of fat people.  I am not Greek or Italian or anything exciting like that.  Just plain old American.  Valley people is what you would call us.  Southern too.  No I did not grow up eating fat back and fried turds of any kind.  Nothing baked in bacon grease or any weird animal parts covered in egg and flour.  As luck would have it we all just eat too much and move too little and then there is that nasty little drinking problem that is pervasive on my father's side.  My mother has been overweight my entire life.  She battled diet after diet and had a small amount of success for a few years but after awhile she just gave up.  She recently had a hip replacement and now walks with a cane.  My father was actually quite active and thin most of my life but in his late 50's he has had a heart attack and two back surgeries that have left him unable to do most things he loves.  Oh and he drinks way too much bourbon.  My brother who is older than me is overweight and is on blood pressure medicine.  It is hard to believe but I am probably the smallest in my family and definitely the fittest.  

Growing up I was always thin.  Bone thin.  I never exercised and didn't join any reindeer games.  I ate whatever I wanted.  I had my first bout of emotional eating in my early teens and it continued through college.  I would come home from school alone and go downstairs to the basement and watch TV and eat an entire sleeve of saltine crackers.  I would then eat anything else I could find.  I was starving because I had eaten lunch at 10:30.  (Public schools have the most fucked up eating plan for kids).  I was also lonely.  School was a social outlet for me.  I hated coming home by myself.  I hated being by myself.  Most of my friends did after school activities and I did not.  This little slice of my life right here is the reason why I tell all parents to get your kids involved in things.  Those studies are totally right on.  If your kids are at home by themselves not doing anything - bad shit will happen.  

This was also about the time I learned to lie about food.  My mom was on one of her many diets and I had come home from school looking to binge and I ate a bag of frozen strawberries and a tub of cool whip.  Unbeknown st to me this was my Mom's one dessert.  She came home from work and realized that I had eaten them and we had a throw down of epic proportion.  I was grounded for days.  I never owned up to eating anything ever again.  For all of you that want to know - this leads to secret closet eating.  I really didn't do this much but I am actually just lucky and was too scared to let this kind of thing take control of me.  I knew one time when I ate an entire McDonald's meal and then threw away all the evidence to hide it from my husband I was going down a slippery slope.  I instantly confessed and then knew that I could not pull that one ever again.  Even now I get a little shiver of ick from that memory.  

So I go off to college and eat whatever I want.  I remember the cereal bar with Fruit Loops and Captain Crunch with particular fondness.  I did go to school in Alabama so we did have those nasty aforementioned things plus an endless supply of coke to wash it down with.  Fortunately I had a nasty smoking problem so I really didn't eat that much.  My worst habit was a thrice weekly drive thru visit at the local Wendy's which took checks.  Can you imagine?  These were the days before debit cards so checks at fast food?  How awesome is that?  I got out of college mostly unscathed but really unhealthy.  Again, due to my particular aversion to vomiting I was lucky and didn't adapt any totally gross habits and I happened to attend a very small college with wonderful girlfriends who seemed healthy and happy with their bodies.  At least on the outside they did.  It wasn't until I turned 25 or 26 that my lifestyle caught up with me.  I did have some issues with my menstrual cycle and was pretty much a train wreck health wise.  I had cysts in my breasts that sent me all the way to an oncologist.  I was really low on iron and my cholesterol was 250.  I weighed 92 pounds.  My friends at work would follow me to the bathroom because they swore I was puking after lunch.  Not true - again hate to vomit.  I don't know why I weighed almost nothing other than I had two jobs, no money, smoked three packs a day and drank like a fish.  Then I met my honey bunny.  Not that he is in any way at fault but we all know how this happens.  We meet someone, fall in love, eat in all the time, blah blah blah.  Anyway - I gained 60 pounds in one year. Yep - big number.  One would think I would have landed on the normal healthy side of 100 but no such luck.  I got married at 164 pounds.  I thought I looked beautiful - honey bunny thought I looked beautiful.  Would I have rather gotten married in a size six dress?  Well of course.  No shit.  

I travelled up and down the scale for the next five years and then I got pregnant.  Second try...nice work honey bunny.  I actually did o.k. in the beginning but then gained an extra 10 pounds in the second trimester for being so good in the first.  Then I got the diabetes.  Yes, too much sugar.  This sugar problem put me on insulin and a strict 2400 calorie diet.  Yes you read correctly, 2400 calories. That is a lot of calories!!!!  I ate that much and listen up - DID NOT GAIN A POUND IN THE THIRD TRIMESTER OF MY PREGNANCY!!!!!  How can this be?  Tomorrow we will delve more into this when I take you on a history trip of all my dieting.

SO, what have I done with all of the pounds since I had a baby.  I mean my baby is now 8 years old.  Can't use that tired old excuse.  

In that time I have learned some things that have been invaluable to me and I do believe that everything I have ever done has led me to this point.  It is really important to take the time to look at your history and your past and see what has gotten you here - the good, the bad and the totally disgusting.  Looking at it all with an honest heart and open mind can give you the tools to fix things.  What most people lack I think is the strength.  You may think that it takes a lot of strength to carry these things with you.  Actually, it takes much more strength to let them all go.  To forgive, move on, stop making it the mountain it is and stop feeding it the cancerous cells to make it fester.  Running many many slow miles gave me this wonderful clarity.  The problem still remains though - what am I going to do about it.  All of the thinking is wonderful and life fulfilling and yada yada yada.  In the end though - I got to get off my ass and do something.  Like eat less, eat more green things.  You know - do the work.  That is where my challenge lies.  This should be a very interesting year for me.

Happy Running,

Sarah 

I hate New Year's Resolutions

Hi there,

Since I am starting this on January 1st,  I am certain that most people will believe that this is some pie in the sky resolution - something crazy and impossible and probably what I blurted out in a moment of weakness.  Not true!  I actually blurted this out on a 12 mile run about three months ago.  I have spent the last few months gearing up for the process. 

So this is what I blurted out - I want to qualify for Boston in four years.  Why four?  Two reasons.  1)  In four years I will be 45 years old, thus giving me about 10 extra minutes.  I love the symmetry, four years, 45 years old, four hour qualifying time.

2) It will take me four years to train for this and do the work necessary to get there.

I realize that this sounds very ordinary and not very interesting to some people but let me explain why this is a very out of the ordinary dream.  I am what most runners would call an Athena Athlete.  Basically that means I am a fat runner.  I have big boobs and wide hips and a large arse.  I am short in stature and my legs are even shorter than that.  I am not athletically gifted in any particular area.  My V02 max is probably right now the best it will ever be.  I am not particularly young and I abused my body in my younger days with booze, smokes (all kinds) and no physical exercise of any type.  I have had a weight problem for about 15 years now which has interfered with my health, my fertility and my one pregnancy.  I have stress issues, anxiety problems and from time to time battle with depression.  At one time I sought some pharmacological help for these issues but they just really sucked the life out of me so I looked for something better.  Running was it.  I started training for my first race on January 29th, 2005. I ran my first mile in 14:48.  I ran the Monument Avenue 10K.  I finished in one hour and twenty nine minutes.  I actually ran most of it.  I ran it again the next year and a few other 10k's in between shaving off about 10 minutes.  In 2007 I believed that I could run the marathon.  Which I did.  I was last.  It took me almost 7 hours to complete 26.2 miles.  It was the happiest moment of my life.  I know deep down that I will never have a moment as blissful as that one.  And I have had many, many fine moments in my life.  

So you see what I have working against me but let's look at what I have going for me.  I have the most supportive husband in the world.  Todd believes in me and never has once blinked an eye or laughed uproariously or said no to me in the 16 years that we have been together.  He was the one that met me at mile 23 two years ago and told me I could finish when I really, really, REALLY wanted to quit.  He truly loves me unconditionally (and that is one helluva job) and he gives me the training time guilt free.  I also have a wonderful son who never gives me grief for running.  Instead he asks how far I go every time I run.  I have a great story about my son.  I ran the Marine Corps Historic Half Marathon Kids Run last year with him so my husband could run the race.  Dean (my son) had never run a two mile run but he has run a one mile race in under 12 minutes.  Like his father and me, Dean is not particularly fast, but he loves a medal like his folks so we encourage him to race.  Well on that day he busted out two 10 minutes miles which I have never done.  So I was huffing behind him and he got up to the finish line and stopped and came back for his Mom so we could finish together.  He was 7 years old at the time.  This is what I live with every single day. My two training partners, Tiffany and Sue, are my sisters.  Not biologically but in every other way.  They have seen the worst and the best of me and I really mean the worst. I would do anything for them.  I truly mean anything.  I also have wonderful friends.  Some of them run and some of them don't.  Some of them think I am crazy but many of them also give me more love than I deserve.  

Most importantly though I have myself to look to for inspiration.  It took me seven years to decide to change my life and run a marathon.  I have four years to lose 50 pounds and shave three hours off of my time.  I have this quote on a paperweight on my night table.  It begs the question "What would you attempt if you knew you could not fail?" (Robert Shuller).  Seven years ago I said run a marathon.  I need a new answer.  This seems as possible to me as that answer did seven years ago.

So here I am on January 1st.  Yes, I do hate New Year's Resolutions but I do really love the spirit with which they are made.  Because, what if?  If not now, then when? Join me on my journey.  By the way, I haven't really enlisted any particular plan to start.  That will be part of the process.  I will let you know what works and what doesn't.  The one thing I can promise you is honesty.  When it comes to running, I am brutally truthful and I have no qualms about dishing the real stuff.  Enjoy, Share, Learn, Give, Take.  It's 2009.  2013 is just around the corner.  

Happy Running,

Sarah