The One About the Number

Do you have a number in your head?  You know, the one that is hanging over you?  The one that can potentially keep you up at night or the one that you ignore and push down with a myriad of coping mechanisms?  The one that you feel like if you reach it will just about kill you?  Mentally and physically? What is it?  Come on, you can tell me.  You know I am going to tell you.  Is it an age? Weight?  Cholesterol or Blood Pressure? Run time? Clothing Size? Number of times you have yelled at your child, spouse, employees, etc? Number of cuts?  Number of trips to the bathroom after binging? A credit limit on a credit card?  What hangs over your head like a bounty?
For me, it's the number on the scale.  And it's the big 200.  Many years ago it was a clothing size.  I distinctly remember shopping for some summer clothes because none of my size 14 shorts fit me.  So I went looking for some bigger clothes in a regular store.  I was devastated as I slunk my way out of those stores and headed to Lane Bryant.  I cried the whole time and didn't even think about what I was buying.  It didn't matter that I was in the smallest size in the store, what mattered was that I was even in the fat lady store.  I just grabbed three pair of shorts and went home and ate.  I think that might have been one of the first times in my life when I took the weight loss thing seriously.  I did lose weight that summer and I did throw away those shorts.  Vowing that I would never have to go back to Lane Bryant again.  That was my number, size 18.  Until now.  On Wednesday of this week I hit the number.  My scale said 200.6.  This number is quite an awful number for me.  First of all, I have never had a two handle on my weight.  Second of all, this was the number that separated me from my mother's battle with weight.  As long as I stayed in the "onderlands" I was not like her.  I didn't have to share any of my struggles with her and I couldn't compare myself to her.  She was morbidly obese, not me.  She was in the fat lady stores, not me.  She couldn't give me her hand me down clothes because I was too skinny for them.  The 200's put me in her league.  Hell, they put me in the one ton league.  Oh My God that SUCKS!!!!!!!!!!
I took a good hard look at myself recently, both in a picture and in the mirror - clothed and unclothed.  While some may say that this was masochistic and unnecessary, I felt that it was completely deserved.  I really needed to look at myself because I have been avoiding it forever.  I recently ran the Little Rock Arkansas Marathon at my highest weight.  I could not believe the pictures.  I also didn't want Honey Bunny to post any of his pictures.  I fought through that because he genuinely was proud of me.  The thing about this particular marathon is it is known for it's gigantic medal.  And I do mean gigantic.  HUGE.  But in my mind, it wasn't big enough to cover my gut.
Right now, in my life, I feel physically awkward.  I feel fat in the face.  My knees hurt and my clothes are tight.  My thighs are rubbing together and my stomach feels totally bloated.  So what happened the day that I hit the number?  Well you might think that I would juice fast and run to the gym.  Did I?  Of course not.  But I didn't binge eat either.  I actually, believe it or not, sat with it.  Now little honey bunny is on spring break this week and we did not go anywhere but I do not have the ability this particular week to run to the sauna and sweat it out.  This is probably a really good thing because I just would have panicked and tried to work the initial three pounds off, settling in at 197 and thinking that I could just sit here and maintain.  And wait.  Wait to hit the number again.
What I realized this week is that is what I do.  I wait to hit the number.  I worry and worry and worry and make the 197 o.k.  I think to myself, when I do hit the number, that is when I get serious because that is a serious number.  Like 197 isn't serious?  Shit, I need to get out of the 190's in a bad way.  I really need to be in the 140's.  So I spent the last year of my life worrying about the number.  Instead of figuring out a way to get out of the 190's, I worried my way into the 200 club.  What is so ironic about the whole load of crap is that I probably spent 90% of my time thinking about how to get myself out of the 190's.  I know I spent money on it.  Juice cleanses, blenders, weight watchers, body buggs, diet books, marathons, training plans, trainers, veggies, organic things, online clubs, special vitamins.  What did it get me?  One ton of anxiety and tears.

So what happens now?  What would you do if you hit your number? Would you turn your life around?  Could you?  Do you know how?  I can tell you that the answer is no.  Not until you have figured out what got you to that number in the first place.  The first thing I have done and you should do is to go back.  Look back over the last year of your life and figure out what happened.  I can guarantee you that it is not just one lightning bolt moment that things changed but most likely a series of events that lead you to some bad habits.  You cannot moved forward and change your course until you know how you got on the course you are on.  As Honey Bunny likes to say - get after it.  Oh, if it were only that easy.

The One About Courage

I have been thinking a lot about courage lately.  The big kind and the little kind.  Examples for the little kind would be eating strawberries and honey dew melon for breakfast instead of waffles and bacon.  Yesterday when little honey bunny had the stomach flu and made it to the toilet instead of the floor.  Going to the gym at 7:00 AM on Sunday to run sprints instead of sleeping in.  Big kind to me is calling the doctor to make an appointment for a mammogram when you haven't gone in years.  Running a marathon.  Training for a marathon.  Getting back on Facebook after a year of being off of it due to some rather awkward estrangements with friends or family.  Not only putting on 80's music but telling the world you have it on your Pandora.  Seriously, some may joke but I swear that takes courage.

Think about that...how many times a day do we all feel bad about ourselves and feel a little ashamed about our little "indulgences" if you will.  When I sit down to write or think or plan, I like to do the following - make a pot of tea, clean my kitchen, fold my blankets and fluff the pillows on my sofa and clean up my writing area.  Then I like to light a candle (metaphorical to me - lights a flame of creativity and opens the pathway to my thinking brain), drink some of the tea, face my laptop so that I can look outside (no matter the weather) and I put on some 80's music.  There is something extremely therapeutic to me when I hear Spandeau Ballet or Culture Club or A-Ha.  It takes me back to a time when I remember feeling good about myself yet a little insecure. When I was a teenager struggling to become an adult. You know that time - before you were say, jaded.  When the world was wide open and ripe with possibility.  When I thought that I would either move to New York and become a Broadway star and live in Greenwich Village, or the other way and thrive in Hollywood and live in the canyons and be one of those freaky cool actresses.  Or even better, I would sing.  And act.  And probably dance.  And then I would write about it.

I look at Facebook posts, ones which I make also and see sometimes personal attacks on what you say.  As if you are the dumbest person in the world.  Then I see sometimes people just wanting to show you how smart they are with their rhetoric.  Really?  I can't decide if Facebook is evil or genius.  I admit I use it everyday for my business and as a stay at home Mom and coach that works from home - I like to keep in touch with certain people.  The one thing that I see everyday on Facebook though is courage.  And cowardice.  I see people post things about their religion, their politics, their weight loss, their running, their job situations, their marriages, their children, their eating habits and other such very personal things.  Then I see some people attacked for these things.  It is no wonder many people don't put themselves out there.  I figure that if I am friends with you - and I don't mean facebook friends but a real friend then I would find those things that make you who are kind of endearing and quirky and sweet.  Maybe not but at the very least I would really like to think that I would applaud you for having the courage to be who you are.  That's what I want.  So as I finish this post, I am currently listening to Bryan Adams's song "Heaven".  And I am singing along because I know all the words. 

The One About The Biggest Loser Drama

I LOVE watching The Biggest Loser.  I have watched this show since the very beginning.  Even Honey Bunny and now little honey bunny will watch this with me.  Honey Bunny, who doesn't like much TV and especially hates reality TV, he will tell you that reality TV is what is wrong with the world these days, will get into this show.  I have loved Jillian Micheals and I have really, really loved Bob Harper.  I even like most of the other trainers that they bring on but what I love about Bob and Jillian was always their intolerance of the game aspect and their relentless pursuit of why people got to the show in the first place.  And of course, I love the ass kicking.  I even tolerated the marathon running because I really felt that they should never put these people in that situation without proper training and support.

However, lately, this show is all about the drama.  The contestants argue constantly.  They are back stabbing, petty, immature, calculating and most of all, not dealing with their issues.  And I HATE the fact that either the producers think this is good TV or even worse, the BL fan club has written in their love for this type of television.  Either way, it is enough to make me stop watching.  The preview is tempting us to wait and tune in for the next smack down, not the next record breaking weigh in or the next emotional and heart wrenching story of how they got so fat in the first place.

It makes it hard for me to pull for the winners if I don't know their story.  I want to know what makes a person eat themselves to 300+ pounds.  What happened to them that makes them literally give up on themselves?  I like to watch this because I think the majority of the world's obesity is not from something so dramatic and major but from the easy stuff.  Like boredom and laziness and lack of good food and from low self esteem and from anxiety.  It is these things that I fight.  Why eat a salad when that takes so much time and I can just pick up a sandwich that is hot and satisfying and yummy and I can eat out with my friends?  But when the show is about who said what and how they said it, I just want to tune it out.  I have enough drama in my life.  It also royally pisses me off that these people are spending their time fighting and being stupid instead of taking every opportunity that they have been given to learn more and do more.  If they would just all shut up and do their job, the only thing they would have to worry about is getting on the scale and losing some major lb's.  But no, what we are seeing is the rancor and fighting amongst the troops.  I would like to believe that these people are in some serious need of help but I think that Bob just needs to come my way and help me because I am ready, willing and able to take the ass kicking.  Those fools just need some serious help from Dr. Phil.

Perhaps the host, Allison Sweeney, called in a favor and had the producer or director of her other show, the soap opera move over to Biggest Loser.

I need more triumph, not temper tantrums!!!!!

The One About the Dog with a Bone

I had to have a heart to heart with Honey Bunny this weekend.  It wasn't pretty.  It was almost intervention level.  Not him - for me.  I was kind of driving him crazy and he needed to tell me that.  Have you ever had to be in a position where you have to tell the person you love most that you are making them crazy?  It's not pleasant but I must say that it opened up a different level of intimacy that we had been missing lately.  Just the fact that Honey Bunny was brave enough to tell me to shut the hell up about something and that I was woman enough to take it - even thanking him for the help and support, was really great for us.  And, as it turns out, hold onto your thighs for this one, he was right.  Once again, I was using my usual level of anxiety and skills at worrying about something to avoid doing something else.  Deflecting?  Is that the right mental health term?  I don't know, but Honey Bunny's term is "You are rolling this around in your head like a dog with a bone and you need to cut it out!"  Works for me.
So the issue which was my bone was of a very personal nature with a friend so I won't go into it but what I will go into was what I was ignoring.  I was ignoring my marathon training (running a marathon in six weeks), and I was also ignoring the fact that I had a cracked tooth and didn't want to go to the dentist.  Turns out that I needed a root canal so that coupled with my extreme dental phobia, caused me to top my anxiety with some extreme freaking out.  I also had committed with some friends to Weight Watchers and instead of getting excited about that - I was bumming out that my relationship with food was about to turn into a tomato soup and jello problem because my tooth was sore.  I also was having a very stressful problem at work and it was literally bringing me to my knees with worry and anger.  So there you have it.  Oh and did I mention that I quit drinking for awhile? I really needed to detox my liver from our Key West trip so I thought it would be helpful if I stopped drinking between now and my marathon.
So after the heart to heart, I decided that I needed to pull myself together a little bit.  So I went to the dentist and it only mildly sucked - not as bad as I thought but I still haven't had the full procedure - just a mild draining and shaving of the nerve endings (barf) and I should have the rest of it done this week.  But at least I am prepared for the pain and have the requisite number of Advil, ice packs backed up with some narcotics to get me through.  I went to Weight Watchers with my friends and although my tooth situation has delayed my progress, I am not giving up and I found the meeting surprisingly awesome and my friends did too and they seem motivated.  I also went for a run.  Finally.  Honey Bunny's advice to me as a husband and a marathoner and also a coach was that I needed to build some running consistency back into my schedule and I needed to do it immediately.  So I did.  I have run two days this week, not long but hard and I did it.  I struggled mildly to get out the door this morning but I managed to make it happen.  And the sun was out today - first time in days.  So I stretched my legs, got some vitamin D, released some Dopamine and overall, embraced the rest of my day.
Rolling things around can be good and useful.  To think about a problem and dissect it and prioritize it and to come up with a solution is good and productive.  But, this process should take place on a run.  It should happen when you can clear your mind and get those good vibes and hormones going.  It should not happen when you have the kids running around and the phone ringing and the TV on and a little honey bunny who was just marching around the house with the "That was easy" button hitting his knee at regular and highly annoying intervals.  Even with my ipod on, a run is where I get it done.
Is the message here that I should not have such high maintenance friends?  Is the message that I should not let things bother me so much?  Is the message I need medication?  I hope not the latter because I have been on medication for such things before and I must say - didn't really like the side effects.  Which is how I started running.  When I first started running, I was dealing with fertility issues.  When I started running marathons, not only did I realize that I was never going to have another baby - even by extreme measures, but that I was a 39 year old in full on menopause,  I made the decision to get through it by running.  Not by medication.  I stand by my decision to this day.  My first marathon saved my life.  It saved me from a life of depression and it probably saved my marriage.  I worked out so many things on those runs.  It started as a way for me to run away from my pain but what happened was that I ran through my pain.  I came out on the other side victorious.  Not that some days aren't hard and that I still have my moments of missing my never to be second child and that I still feel too young to not be menstruating but I am good.  Even with the hot flashes.

The One About The Honey Badger

I love January.  The possibility of new things.  Of resolutions.  Of starting over.  Of doing things differently. A whole year awaits you and what you can accomplish in those 365 days.  Or in 2012's case, 366 days.  I started this year with a bang.  A big bang.  I did a Ragnar Relay.  12 of us crazies ran from Miami to Key West.  It. Was. Awesome.  One of the best things I have ever done, not because it was hard (which it was) or challenging (which it was) but because it was the most fun I have ever had related to a running event.  Ever.  Bar None.  Hands Down.  Frickin' Incredible!!!!

So with that, I return from paradise totally stoked and tan and then, what do I do?  Think about how I want to do things differently.  My resolutions begin mid January - how odd is that?  When everyone else is either furiously working on their resolutions (i.e. can't get a parking spot at the gym) or they have already given up and want you to join them on their descent back into whatever it is, I am just giving thought to what it is I want to do.  Well I can tell you about my resolution.  Because Ragnar was a bubble. We were in a bubble for 32 hours in two vans.  Then I was in an awesome bubble in Key West where we ate and snorkeled and swam and drank and ate and drank some more.  Then I came home.  And Honey Bunny went back to work (sad for him) and little honey bunny went to school (also sad for him) and the house was quiet and empty (yeah for me).  So I slept and did laundry and cleaned out my smelly fridge and realized that I had a marathon to train for (March) and a business to run and my life to get back in order.
I had to run a crazy leg in downtown Miami.  I mean scary crazy.  It was 9:30 at night and I had 9 miles to go.  I passed a giant (dead thank God) rat, a boy on a bike that tried to run me over, two pit bulls, a couple of chickens, and then I had to go on a deliverance type road where the vans could not follow me.  This road had craters filled with some odd fluid that I don't think was water because it had not rained in Miami in a few weeks, the canal was on my right and I don't know what the hell was on my left.  At one point a guy ran by me and asked me did I see the giant bloody mattress back there.  So I turned up my music (because I don't like to hear it coming) and was relieved that I had taken enough Imodium to prevent me from shitting myself to death and kept running.  True honey badger moment.  I went into that house of bees.  Then when I got off of that road I came out at a maximum security prison.  O.K.  So I kept going again.  Then finally in the midst of fog descending, I saw my team at the exchange.  That run addressed almost every phobia I have ever had about running.  And I did it.
So that is my resolution.  Be the honey badger.  Because why the hell not?  Cross fit?  Sure.  Weight Watchers? Why the hell not.  Chicago Marathon?  Signing up.  No Worries. Turning Vegan? Hell Yeah! Try something new.  Go on an adventure.  Be scared but trust yourself.
For years,  I have allowed other people to make me second guess myself.  To feel bad or insecure or embarrassed, or odd for doing things that I am doing.  I know that I have written about this before.  But I realize now more than ever that it is almost always about them.  It is not about you and if you let other people make you feel bad about things that are important to you then it is really just a problem that they have with themselves.  Will they judge me?  Will they like me?  Will they still be my friend?  Who the hell gives a shit?  Honey Badger don't!!!!

So if you are out there and you have something that sounds fun or hard or odd or even crazy, you should call me.  If you need a friend or a running coach or some help with your crazy goals, you should call me or at the very least, embrace your own inner honey badger.  Don't get me wrong now, I actually cried on that deliverance road.  For like a nano second, I couldn't believe that I had gotten my ass into this situation.  I was tired, scared, hungry and unsure of whether or not I would ever see my family again.  But I did.  Some things I try don't turn out so well.  Some people don't like me.  Some people don't agree with my politics, my running philosophy, my passion for really good margaritas, my ever evolving attempt and becoming a full on vegan and telling everyone I know about animal suffering.  Don't care this year.  In 2012, I figure that there will be plenty of houses of bees.  So I'm going in.

The One About Enough is Enough

Well, as I suspected, I was not happy at all with the trail run.  In fact, I kind of hated it.  I was bummed because I did run with my bestie, Suki who as she promised, stayed attached to my bum the whole time.  And I was in the back by a lot.  I finished dead last which is not really a huge problem for me but it never really does anything to boost my ego.  In fact, if I really searched inwardly and really admitted to myself the yucky feeling I get when I know I am last, it just sucks.  I actually hate it.  I spend so much time telling everyone that I coach that there is no shame in finishing last.  I didn't really feel shame as much as just bummed and a little pissed.  Someone has to be last but why is it me - much of the time?
So what was it truly about the race?  Was it the rocks and leaves and roots - yes - looking at the dirt for an hour was not fun.  I couldn't spend any time looking around and enjoying the nature because I had to look at where I was going.  I also hated the uneven ground that caused my pinched meniscus and IT band to scream at me on several occasions. The most surprising thing was how much I didn't like the downhill.  I couldn't use the downhill to my benefit because I was actually scared of falling down.  I think that trail running is supposed to go slower than regular running but I guess that is a big part of it because I really don't want to work on something again that I am already epically slow at.  I just want to work on my marathon time.  Sure enough - the next day I ran 14 miles on the road and was soooooo much happier.  But I tried it and I had a nice long talk with Honey Bunny about it and he totally understood and wasn't mad and it's all good now.
One of the things that came out of the many talks that Honey Bunny and I have had over the last few days was that I have to be enough for me.  He said "You have to be enough for You."  We were talking about my family.  I can't possibly be the only person who links their family with insecurites.  Isn't that where it all begins?   As mentioned before in other posts, my family is not necessarily dysfunctional but we are a little fucked up in the relationship department.  I can definitely say that my parents love me.  I can definitely say that we have a pretty good relationship.  I can definitely say that my brother and I are not close and that is my parent's fault.  I also can say that I am not close with my family and that is my fault.  I am very different from the rest of my family.  Imagine being in a familial environment and not fitting in.  Whether it be politics or religion or social beliefs or ethical dilemmas or musical tastes or what to read or what to wear.  Or how you simply see the world and how you want to be seen in the world.  Just fundamentally a freak from your family.  From your parents, your sibling,  and all of their social support systems.  Imagine what happens when you constantly get the message that you are not quite right or you are not understood or you are somewhat of an enigma.  We all want to fit in.  We all want friends and we all want love and support.  I think I spent a huge amount of time trying to fit in with the people that I think should have just accepted me no matter what.  When I did finally truly rebel as an adult and moved in with Honey Bunny prior to a legal marital commitment, they kicked me out of the family.  So 18 years later, even though I have tried to really let that go, and forgive and just try to enjoy my family, resentment creeps into the crevices...especially at Christmas time.  I actually feel that I shouldn't have to spend time with my family on the day - I would rather spend it with good, close friends who have always loved and supported me.  They make me happy.  My family on the holidays drains me.  In order for me to be enough for me, I need to spend time with the ones that fulfill me, lift me up, make me laugh until I pee, give me mental hugs, will run trails with me, hold my hand, listen to me.  I am enough for them.
There is this child at little honey bunny's school and I think of him often and his parents.  He is obvious different.  And I mean different.  I believe that child, while born a male probably wishes he was born a girl.  He wears girls clothing to school and likes to hang out with the girls.  He has been this way since kindergarten and now he is in the 5th grade.  I believe his parents are struggling to find a balance between allowing this child to express himself and to keep it a little close to the vest because I am 100% sure that he is bullied and picked on.  I really hope that if he survives public school that he will grow to be someone that will change America and how we think.  I hope that he is strong enough to be whatever and whoever he wants and I hope he finds someone to love him enough.  I hope that his parents continue to have the strength to travel down what must seem like a black hole at times holding his hand and having his back the entire trip.  I hope that he is enough for him.

The One About Sure Footing

This Saturday I am running my very first trail run.  It is called the Froze Toes 4 miler and I am terrified.  Now, of course it is not the distance that makes me nervous, it is the fact that I will be running on uneven ground with roots and leaves and mud and steep hills.  I asked Honey Bunny yesterday how he thought I would do and he said it probably won't be my fastest run because I am just not comfortable with things where I don't have sure footing.  Um...well...duh!!!!
You see, I am pretty much a shuffler and a plodder.  I just shuffle along at what I like to call Sarey pace.  It works for me, I just keep going and trying to tell myself all along the way that I will get there at my own pace.  So the idea of using side steps and my hip flexors to pick up my feet and my eyes to look to avoid tripping is just numbingly painful to even consider.  So why am I doing this you ask?  Because I watched two trail runs change two people's lives this year.  My running partner Suki ran her first trail half and it was transcendental.  Honey Bunny ran his first full trail marathon and I couldn't believe how happy he was - and I mean RIGHT after his race.  No pain and he wasn't tired and he said he could keep going.  AFTER 26.2 MILES!  Who says that????  But I have resisted.  I have flat out said that I would NEVER run a trail race and I really meant it.  It's not for me I said.  I am a road girl - a city runner.  Not a nature lover, the trees, the roots, the dirt - Holy Crap that's just...YUCK!!!!!
I have realized though since I started running that you must put yourself out there for different things.  Just because you have accomplished the marathon doesn't mean that there aren't new things to try and go for and attempt.  The only way to know for sure is to try it.
I say that about so many things.  Nope - can't do it, it's just not me.  That counting calorie thing?  Nah.  That high protein diet - just can't do it.  That job - no, they will never take me.  Why would I put myself out there for that.

I have realized that much of this stems from low self esteem.  Now this is a phrase that really has been used so much and nobody really wants to talk about self esteem.  You either have it or you don't.  I think it is so funny to talk about it in the sense of levels.  It is low or high.  Does anyone have medium self esteem issues?  Shouldn't the doctor ask to take some blood so we can test your self esteem levels and see where they are?  But I am just going to say it and mean it.  I have low self esteem.  I don't think myself worthy of things.  And people.  And jobs.  And my life.  I don't think I can try new things.  I know I am good at some things.  I am a freaking fantastic running coach.  It is my calling...seriously.  I am also a really good cook.  I would like to think I am a good Mom but lately I have been struggling with that.  I also would like to think I am a good wife but also of late, I really find myself doubting that because I seem to be going through so much right now that Honey Bunny has been taking a mental beating.  I am a good writer and it brings me joy but I don't give it the attention it deserves because I am spending so much time figuring out what is going on with me.  And working out.  And trying a new diet.  Spinning my wheels seems to be the order of the day lately.  Is it the holidays?  Is it the time of year?  Is it menopause?  Is it my self esteem issue?
I think I will go run this race tomorrow and see.  I think some of these answers lie in the roots and leaves and mud.  I think I will be really proud of myself tomorrow.  I don't think it will be quite as life changing as it has been for other people but it might be a new start.  Or it might just confirm my suspicions about trail running.  But either way, it is going to be a beautiful day and I get to run with Honey Bunny and Suki and I get to face my fears and get four miles in.
My sure footing lies at home with Honey Bunny and little honey bunny.  They are it for me.  As long as I am sure with them - a few roots might just be good for me.  I'll let you know.

The One About Having Bionic Parts

I am torn lately between the zen of running in the Fall and dealing with the stress of having elderly parents that are starting to need care.  Not in the sense of disease, thank goodness, but just in the general demise of my parent's bodies.  My mother just recently underwent her second hip replacement.  My father, who is one year out of having a five inch rod put in his back with screws to hold together his spinal column is currently undergoing a procedure to repair a torn meniscus and getting cortisone injections to put off his first hip replacement.  It is really not fun to watch at all.  It is, as a matter of fact painful to be around them.
I just signed up for a marathon.  The first of what I hope to be a three marathon year.  I will be running Little Rock, Arkansas in early March.  So I have started training again and I must say that October in Richmond has never been better.  Full on foliage beauty.  It is a sight to behold the awesome colors and smells of a cool crisp fall running day with temperatures in the low 50's, lots of sunshine and low humidity.  It is truly a runners dream and when I have a bad run, I just don't care because any run on a day like this is sooooo much better than no run at all.  Today I put this idea to the test because instead of going for a run today, I went to see my parents.  My Mom has really no energy and has not gotten dressed in 14 days.  She refuses to take her pain medication so she is really suffering through the pain unnecessarily and she really lacks the discipline to do her exercises.  And I am talking flexing the foot, not squats.  She is still using her walker and has not gotten outside to walk except when her PT forces her.  Yet she is convinced that she can go on a trip in February that would involve tons of walking.  I, of course feel really bad for my Mom.  She is a tough person.  She is very lucky that she has lived this long with just hip replacements.  She has done some amazing things in her life - not one of them physical but that's o.k.  Or is it?  I think sometimes, I don't let her off the hook because she cannot push herself in any physical manner.  She just cannot do it.  I think I run marathons because I don't want to end up like my mother.  Yet, my Dad, who has been physical most of his life, is in the same condition - maybe worse.  Of course, his choice of physical exercise was golf - which I am sure one could argue that he was getting a workout - but you would have to really convince me.  I think that he always dreamed of doing lots of hiking and walking and fun active trips but Mom never wanted to do any of those things.
So my question to myself and to everyone out there is this...should I feel guilty for feeling so bad about my parents situation?  Is it wrong to be so depressed after visiting them and seeing them so feeble and old?  Is it wrong to really just not want to go back because it makes me so sad?  Am I the worst daughter ever?
I think that the best thing I can do is to go for a run.  I cannot change them, I can only take what I have from this experience and apply it to myself so that I don't end up in the same situation.  My running partner and I talk all the time about how we want to die.  At the finish line when they give us the medal.  A heart exploding after a marathon is fine by me.  Seems strange to some but that would really make me happy.  And, as I have observed from my parents, I would really like to go with all of my parts if I am so lucky.  My Dad always asks me - "How long you think those knees of yours are going to last with all that running?"  I always want to say - probably longer than yours old man. Not very respectful I know.  But you know as I was riding in the car with my Dad today he said something that reminded me of myself.  He said - you know, I would just like to go on a total health kick and see if I can get off all of my medications.  I was so impressed with him.  And my Mom, who has been overweight all of her life has lost 18 pounds this past year.  Without any physical exercise at all.  These two people are 71 years old.  And they are changing or at least trying to change their lives.  They have not given up on trying to be healthier.  Those two things make me think that we all have struggles, we all have demons.  Yet, we all have successes and we all have abilities to do better.  I have always wanted them to think of me as a hero - someone who inspires them and drives them to change their lives by watching me change mine.  It seems as if I have overlooked a couple of heroes of my own. It would seem that I learned what I needed to learn from them.  That my drive and desire to be healthier happens because of them, not in spite of them.

The One About the Boob Tube

Everyone has a doctor in him or her; we just have to help it in its work. The natural healing force within each one of us is the greatest force in getting well. Our food should be our medicine. Our medicine should be our food. But to eat when you are sick, is to feed your sickness.

Hippocrates

I think it's a very interesting idea that food should heal all illnesses.  In fact I think often that food is a direct link to health and wellness.  When I was pregnant with little honey bunny, I had gestational diabetes and was instantly thrown into a world of nutrition, calorie counting and carbohydrate controlled mayhem. Already interested in nutrition, I learned quite a bit about how food works in the body.  This was my first introduction into "preventable and lifestyle diseases".  Gestational Diabetes was not my fault.  My body produced a hormone in the placenta that blocked insulin production so I had to have some help until I gave birth.  However, this was the tip off that my body had the genetic predisposition to getting Type 11 Diabetes later in life.  Luckily, I have been able to fight off this horrid disease but the rest of the ailments that plague most people in their 40's on up have been knocking on my door for awhile and I have learned that the same rule applies.  Eat your veggies.  Simple as that.  We can eat to cure.  We can eat to live.  We can not only stop and prevent but actually halt and reverse disease by eating broccoli.  Think about that.  I mean really think about that...by eating a healthy plant based diet, you can get rid of high blood pressure.  You can remove plaque from your arterial walls.  You can unlock the magic keys in the pancreas that block insulin.  You can change your cellular structure to prevent certain types of cancer.  Really.  Really?  Yes Really.  Did you know that you can also get rid of sinus problems and acne and acid reflux and hot flashes and eczema?  Did you know that with a plant based diet you could save the environment and the health care crisis AND stave off impotency (in both men and women?)  

So what is the deal with not doing this?  Well I can tell you why it is hard for me.  It's hard for me because I spend way too much time thinking about food.  I have gone to the other side of the Hippocratic philosophy to the point where food is my addiction and instead of eating to live, I live to eat.  I live to eat all the wrong things.  I have an addiction.  And it is food.  Food used to nourish my soul and then it served as a friend and a lover and now it is really just a totally abusive spouse.  I never learned to use food as it should be used.  I fight almost daily doing it to my son.  It is a constant struggle to outwit, outplay and outlast my food cravings.  I have all of the red flags and tell tale signs of a personality disorder when it comes to food.  I crave potato chips and french fries when I start to feel anxious.  When I am sad or depressed, I start to go looking for ice cream and brownies.  When I am bored I want some kettle corn. When I am really pissed off, I want McDonald's.  When I am really happy, I want to go get a bunch of sushi and crab spring rolls.  And when I am feeling all of these I want to drink.  Lots and lots of wine.  Sometimes margaritas.  I look forward to all of the holidays so I can buy fun holiday cookie makings and special yummy breads and all kinds of fattening desserts.  It doesn't occur to me at this time to think of all of the awesome vegetables and fruit that will be in season or the incredibly fun activities that take place each season.  

Does it really just take a twist of the brain to start thinking like that?  Do you have to practice healthy habits of the mind, just like you have to practice everything else.  What if I worked daily on the practice of every time I thought of food, unless I was really hungry and it was time to eat, I forced myself to think of something else, more healthy or more spiritual or more funny or more touching?  

One of the things that works for me is to turn off the tv.  I have noticed that since I work from home, when I actually stay at home and don't venture to the library or to a coffee shop, I have to leave the tv on for some mindless company.  Well that mindless company most often turns into a distraction which puts me on the couch with some food and diet cokes and then that usually turns into an unplanned nap which then turns into fat assness.  So if I turn off the tv, I am acutely aware of going to the fridge and eating something that is not planned.  Somehow the tv gives me super invisible powers and I don't have to actually see or feel myself hitting the sectional with bags of crap in my hand.  The problem is, turning off the tv

So by changing one thing - maybe I have given the bad food a little less power and the veggies some time to do their work.  Maybe by instead of obsessing over every calorie I put in my mouth, by changing a behaviour I am taking more control over my addiction.  Maybe I can learn to eat to live instead of avoiding the fact that I am living to eat.  "To eat when you are sick is to feed your sickness."  Uh huh - got it.

The One About Not Eating Unicorns Anymore

I recently ran a race - the Army 10 Miler in Washington D.C.  It was a fantastic race.  I wasn't necessarily trained for this race but since I had signed up for it and it was very hard to get into and had filled up, I thought I would head up and do it.  I had an extremely awesome time doing the race.  I got to see Honey Bunny and Little honey bunny three times along the route.  The weather was great, it was a very gently rolling hill race (mostly flat), great and plenty of water stops, lots of runners around me - which is significant since I am in the back, and tons of inspiration to draw from - like the teams of army soldiers who had no or just one leg and they were completing the race.  So, I figured that I would just not put any pressure on myself and try my best to enjoy the race.  I thought that this would be my last race, even though I had signed up for two half marathons in the Fall, I really needed to take a break from what seemed like my worst training season ever.  Two half marathons in record slow times were not inspiring me to work harder.  It seemed as if I just needed to take some time to work on other things, like losing weight and  gaining strength.  So I just wanted to kick back and see how much of the race I could run.  I was very proud to say that I ran 99% of the race - the hardest part was from mile 8 1/2 to 9.  It was over a very boring uphill bridge and it was really, really warm at this point and we were very exposed to the elements so at that point, it got a little discouraging but overall, I was pretty happy with how much I had run of that race.  I spent the better part of the week basking in my post race glory and thought that for me - the time was pretty good.  Until I looked up my results for the Charlottesville 10 miler which I ran in March at what I thought was my highest weight ever.  I actually completed that race 5 minutes faster than this race.  And that race had at least 5 giant hills.  I couldn't believe it.  I was stunned and spent a good part of the day moping and undoing my glory bask because I actually ended a training season heavier and slower than I started.  What the FUCK?????  What a giant disappointment!  After this and of course the news earlier in the month that I needed blood pressure medication, do I still try to turn my life around?  No of course not.  I take a stab at it here and there...eat a fruit, a veggie, run a little. But do I count calories?  No.  Do I go totally vegan?  No.  Do I follow the Furman plan?  Nope.  Do I stop eating crap and drinking tons of wine?  Not even a little.  So what is a girl to do?  Give up?  Seriously, do I just give up on nickel and diming this thing to death?  I've always wanted to do something radical.  Like becoming a hard core vegan or a yogi or a meditating, brushing, juicing, raw foodie, purist.  Honey Bunny and I were at dinner last night where I was enjoying a nice ribeye sandwich with blue cheese aioli and he paid me one of the nicest compliments ever.  He said, one of the things that he totally loves about me is that I am really open to most things.  While some people are scared of what they see as the alternative, and thinking outside of the box is very intimidating - to me, there is no other way of life.  I like to think of myself as someone that can do this.  So why do I hesitate so much?  Not so much because it's hard.  And make no mistake, it is hard.  Not many restaurants serve vegan food and let's face it - all that cheese and yogurt and sour cream and lump crabmeat and london

I am looking for the support.  I will start with my own self awareness and my own self confidence and when that wanes, I will look to Honey Bunny most immediately because he is definitely a huge source of support.  After that goes, I will look to a few famous people like Alicia Silverstone and Brendan Brazier and Kris Carr for some quick inspiring thoughts.  I want to shake up this little bit of suburbia that I am living in - look out...here comes the vegan!!!!

The One About the 50 Miler

So I need a big goal.  A really big goal.  The reason I need a really big goal is because I typically use my really big goals to avoid the most immediate, important and should really be working on goals.  I usually feel that if I can work on a really big goal, the more important goals will either solve themselves or go away or at the very least, I will feel that those immediate goals are not nearly as important as my really big goal.  I think this might be similar to the definition of insanity which I keep coming back to, pretty often as it turns out.  Doing the same thing over and over again but expecting a different result.  I ran 3 marathons that way.  The fourth one, I finally did the miles and the hard work and voila- shaved 30 minutes off of my time.  I was still injured and not showing any significant weight loss but I did at the very least, work really hard on getting my miles in.
What is the really big goal?  What are the most immediate goals?  Well, I'll tell you.  The really big goal is that I want to run a 50 mile race. A real, authentic endurance run.  One with trails and rivers and rocks and some bad ass ratings.  The immediate goals are not nearly so exciting or sexy.  In fact, they are downright unsexy.  I need to lower my blood pressure by quite a bit and I need to reduce my waist circumference by at least 10 inches.  God how middle age is that?  I am fast approaching my 44th birthday (which gives me only one year left to qualify for Boston, which means that in a year, I may have to rename my blog:/) and for those of you that don't know I have already gone through menopause. I completed my long ass fertility journey three years ago.  Yes that's young and yes it was a surprise and yes it was a complete bummer.  But alas, I have made some peace with it or at least I thought I had until I  went to the minute clinic at CVS to have my blood drawn by a skinny ass nurse practitioner.  She was totally nice and supportive during the whole procedure.  Of course I did this to avoid going to my regular Doctor.  I knew my numbers would be a total disaster but I needed to know and I needed to know immediately because I had been putting it off.  I decided that I should go with the urge to know so in a valiant effort on my part to start managing what I measured, I boldly went in to have my finger pricked.  So I was totally suprised at some of the information.  I am going to share some totally personal information so that in order to get it all out there, I never, ever, ever have to say these numbers again and I become somewhat accountable to you.
Cholesterol:  198 - HDL 66, LDL 132, Tryglicerides, 53
Blood Pressure :  154/98
Resting Heart Rate - 49
Glucose - 78
Waist Circumference - 41
Weight - 196
Height - 5'4
BMI - 36 - obese

The glucose and the cholesterol were fine.  She would like to see the LDL under 100 but was not totally unhappy with the overall number.  The triglicerides were really good and she thought that was a direct link to my running.  My blood pressure totally sucks and that rate has put me in Stage 1 Hypertension which means I need medication.  My resting heart rate is that of an elite athlete (yeah) and I couldn't improve that any more if I tried.  My glucose was great which makes me extremely happy considering I had gestational diabetes and would do almost anything to avoid taking insulin ever again.  My waist measurement was devastating and I knew that my stomach was pushing maximum density (at times I felt my gut was pushing out past my enormous boobs!) but I still can recall my awesomely slim and svelte 27 inch waist of yore.  My BMI is not a suprise to me, nor was my weight, albeit not something I have wanted to deal with at all - shocking I know.  I have been in the obese BMI range for many many years now - even when I was 25 pounds less than I am now, the range on that thing is not very forgiving and I need to weigh what I weighed before I was married to get into the healthy range.

So what was really depressing to me though and downright scary was the blood pressure.  She urged my to call my doctor and start medication right away.   Not just because of the threat of a massive coronary event or because I could stroke out at any minute (although definitely a possibility for me) but because of the organ damage I am doing from carrying too much pressure in my veins. She also told me this was a direct result of menopause (also, my waist measurement was menopausal). I begged her for two months. Two months to lower the number and to whittle away at my waist which is a direct link to my blood pressure.  I absolutely must lower these two numbers.  10 inches, 20 pounds and ten points on my blood pressure at least.  No ifs ands or buts.  Those are the numbers that need to be seen by Thanksgiving.
So I came home and immediately looked up endurance runs.  I searched all day for my next big race.  The one that would set me on my goals.  I can't do an endurance run being all fat and out of shape.  Those people have great BMI's and blood pressures.  But here's the rub - you can do those things fat.  It's hard but I have done four marathons while sitting in the obese BMI range.
The endurance race is not going to get me there.  So I signed up for Weight Watchers.  I have given into the fact that I must be write down every single thing I eat.  I need to count calories.  I need to weigh and measure my food.  I am 100% interested in nutrition and fuel and veggies and veganism and micro nutrients and phyto nutrients and sustainable, organic farming and all those things.  But really what I need to be interested in is how many calories am I putting in my body and how many calories am I burning every single day.  I need to be all biggest loser, not ultra marathon woman right now.  I cannot look at the next big deal in order to forego the hard work.  I cannot maintain this denial about how I look and now how my body is reacting to my weight.  I must do the work.  I must relish the process and I must throw my heart and soul into it.  I have said this before and now I must say it again, I must be relentless in my pursuit of health.  If I don't, I will just be a middle aged, post menopausal, obese, blood pressure medicine taking marathoner.  That's not good enough for me.  But I still will be signing up for that race in Georgia for next October!

The One About The Ship Hitting The Sand

I have been reading this book called One Day by David Nicholls.  I love this book.  For one thing the style in which it is written in lends a bit of mystery and suspense to an otherwise somewhat predictable story.  The other reason I like it so much is because it takes place starting in 1986.  I graduated from high school in 1986 so I truly can appreciate some of the social references.  There is a quote from the book that has resonated with me in the last few weeks.  "The trick of it, she told herself, is to be courageous and bold and make a difference.   Not change the world exactly, just the bit around you.  Go out there with your double-first, your passion and your new Smith Corona electric typewriter and work hard at...something.  Change lives through art maybe. Write beautifully.  Cherish your friends, stay true to your principles, live passionately and fully and well.  Experience new things.  Love and be loved if at all possible.  Eat sensibly.  Stuff like that."
So here I am, with my sort of not so new Mac laptop, hanging out at my in-laws in south western Virginia, sharing some of my passion.  I have been thinking a lot this summer about my state of happiness or lack there of.  I usually don't enjoy summer.  Little honey bunny is out of school and we do not send him to too many camps.  1)because he really doesn't like them and 2) because they are crazy expensive and we chose this year to have a really great vacation at the end of summer.  So while I am totally crazy about little honey bunny, he makes me totally crazy by the end of the summer like most other parents.  We have way too much togetherness and I have way too little alone time.  Tack on a business that is now up and running successfully which allows me to work from home (yeah) and my own marathon training and then throw in the slight problem that this is Honey Bunny's busiest time and we usually don't see him until middle August and he has is own training - well - I could use a drink!!!
So I don't blog in the summer at all.  I just don't have the time and by the end of summer, I day dream all day long about what I would actually say if given the five minutes to think and clear my head.
Instead of vomiting all of what has been rattling inside my head, I'll just give you a piece.  For some of my friends, the ship has truly hit the sand.  Their marriages and lives seem to be falling apart.  Of course, this makes me really sad but what I really have noticed while I observe the wreckage around me is that most people seem to be walking around in a constant state of grim reaper mode.  Have you ever been to a party of event and gotten a hold of someone who is just so negative?  I mean, really you would think that the sun is not going to come up tomorrow if you hang around these people much longer.  We all know this person or even collective persons.  You are picturing them right now.  So think about this...did you ever think that the grim reaper might be you?  Do you ever stop to think that you are the person sucking all of the air out of the room or your friendships, or your marriage?  I think I might have been.  One tiny event over the phone the other day kick started this line of thinking for me.  A friend who is going through a nasty situation with her marriage said to me that now that the desire for divorce is out in the open, she feels no compunction whatsoever to save it and feels suddenly lighter and freer and is feeling very positive about her new life that is about to happen.  My natural reaction was kind of a bitter - well goodie-goodie for you, but deep down I just wanted to ask her why can't you feel like this in your current life?  I am seeing this right now in three different marriages.  They just are ready to move on and dump the crap that they see as holding them back and suffocating them and move on to something new and exciting.
Naturally, I see this as an opportunity to examine my own life and my own marriage and how I see the world.  I look to see how I can not be so judgemental but supportive.  How do I help my friends even when I think they are full of crap and just plain wrong.  I can't really be happy for my friends because I find this very sad and disappointing and (I know the world does not revolve around me and I know this is EXTREMELY selfish) I am really just totally bummed that I feel like I am losing my friends because I  am not sure how to navigate these particular waters.  The most surprising thing that came out of this was first, this urgent need to blog again, and second, my own grim reaper behavior.  I too, suddenly and surprisingly, like my friend, felt free.  Free and unburdened and suddenly...happy.  When you are mired down in the crap of life, and I know there is a ton of crap...  Mortgages, children, hubbies, in-laws, aging parents, politics, wars, social nuances, feeling alone, weight loss, disease prevention and fighting, job loss, blah blah blah...or you are mired down in someone else'sthings do not make you happy.  You are the only one that can do that.  But here is the kicker that most people do not acknowledge.  You have to do the work to make yourself happy.  Everyone has the right to be happy but more importantly, everyone is not given the automatic happy gene.  You have the right and the ability and the responsibility to do the work that it takes to be happy.  Your husband deserves it, your children deserve it and by golly - you deserve it.  You just might find that it keeps those grim reapers at bay, inside and out.

The One About Chopping Wood and Carrying Water

One thing I am realizing more and more lately is that runners are (for the most part) really scrappy people.  It is really hard for a runner to quit.  The reason for this is at about every mile during a race their can be the potential to quit.  To drop out.  To give up.  To give in to the pain.  It would be easier to stop moving your legs, crawl to a recovery tent, get your flip flops on and start drinking the beer.  But most runners most of the time don't.  Because you just can't.  Even if the run is epically bad, you keep going.  A finished dead last is always preferable to a did not finish.  Of course I know this to be true first hand.  November still haunts me.  13.1 miles is a great distance for a half but not for the full.
This past weekend I completed the Shamrock Half Marathon as a training run.  I finished.  Got a medal and a cool shirt and an awesome hat.  This was a great day for me.  A finish line is the prize for me - no matter how hard fought or how easily completed. I just need to get there.  To get there though - you must put in the hard work.  Every day.  I saw a shirt at the race this weekend that said Run. Eat. Rest. Repeat.  So true - you have to do the time to do the crime.
What if we all tried to do this in most of the important areas in our lives?  Let's see if this formula applies to a marriage...Listen. Love. Forgive. Repeat.  How about kids...Listen. Love. Discipline. Repeat.  O.K. - seems to work so far.  House cleaning?  Dust. Vacuum. Dishes. Repeat.
One of my favorite theories of buddhism is that before enlightenment you chop wood, carry water.  After enlightenment you chop wood, carry water.  I love the idea of this because in my life as in most people's chaos rules.  Disorganization, too much work, bills, health care, play dates, baseball practice, love life, sex life, clothes that don't fit, closets that are a mess, people that need help, etc.  etc.  etc.  I would love to have the time to sit and meditate and explore this idea but I don't.  And I actually have more time than most - I am just full up like the rest of us.  I have this friend who recently completed her first half marathon.  She put in the work but she said she didn't enjoy the training.  That the training gets in the way of her life.  Honey Bunny asked me if I felt that way today.  Do I really want to change my life back to the way it was before I trained all the time.  This stemmed from me not wanting to go to bed at the same time as little honey bunny.  Last night I wanted to stay up and have a glass of wine and watch some TV.  I didn't want to rest.  The answer of course is no I don't want to change my life.  I love training.  I love how bad ass it makes me feel and I love that I can say I put in the work.  I love trying to get better and improve my time.  In many areas of my life I have not put in the time.  This area I have.  And I am proud of it.
So when I get overwhelmed and the haunting of November creeps up on me (and believe me it does, not just on a run but in my everyday life) I try to remember the simple things.  I try to chop wood, carry water.  I run, I eat, I rest, I repeat.  Somehow, in the little things, the big picture becomes clear.

The One About Love

How do you treat yourself?  I mean really treat yourself?  Do you beat yourself up everyday?  Do you throw yourself under the bus?  Do you like yourself?  Do you love yourself?  Do you find yourself worthy of love?  Do you think you deserve all of your blessings?  Do you think you have earned all of the good things that have come your way?  I mean really? I bet you don't.  The reason you don't is most likely because you are a woman.  I mean this with all of the buddhist kindness and southern love I can muster but women generally suck at this.  Royally.  Now guilt and shame - we got that one covered.  Better than most.  I don't think that the Jews and the Catholics have any sort of claim on this - I think just having a vagina justifies this talent and skill.
Why is this you ask?  You don't ask?  Well I do.  I have been thinking about this so much lately.  I have spent the last few weeks losing some weight.  I have had some minor success.  I seem to be on a roll and have found the thing that is working for me.  I have lost 10.5 pounds and 10 inches in five weeks.  I will share with you what I am doing at a later time because I simply don't want to jinx it.  I can tell you that it is a formal weight loss program and there are several elements that seem to provide me with the motivation to keep going.  The statement that has kicked off this storm of thoughts and emotions is this though - "Sarah, you need to find a non food reward. A way to make yourself feel loved and safe without calories."
HOLY SHIT NO I CAN'T BECAUSE THAT IS NOT WHAT I DO.  I don't know how to feel safe without a bag of chips and I certainly don't know how to feel love without a brownie chaser.  Comfort and security is best served with a nice cold Sauvignon Blanc.  Peace and happiness for me is found at the nearest bakery or Cold Stone Creamery.  To treat oneself means to take oneself out to eat.
So after I panicked, I made an appointment at the newest Spa on the block for a lovely facial.  As I was laying under the warm blanket waiting for my absolutely beautiful master esthetician to make me gorgeous I was wondering if I really needed this.  Actually what I thought was do I really deserve this.  Can I afford to take the time and money and get a rub down and an exfoliation for one hour.  Have I earned the right to feel better about myself and feel pretty.  Well of course I have you might say and I might say laughing the whole silliness off.  But what I really uncovered was - no I don't. It's hard.  It is really hard to say - I deserve an hour of pampering because I have worked hard this week.  I have earned the right to take some time for myself because I could use a break.  While I am writing this I am at a public wine and coffee house and there is a man working next to me drinking a glass of wine.  In the middle of the day...bet he doesn't feel guilty at all.  Doesn't even think it's a treat - he just wanted a nice cold glass of white wine so he ordered it and is drinking it.  Oh to be so free with the self loving.
I have been wrestling with so many emotions lately since I am no longer eating them away but this guilt and shame thing keeps coming to the surface.
Little honey bunny has been struggling lately in the social game - particularly in our neighborhood.  He is not being picked on but he is one of the younger ones and the older kids are just pulling a I am too cool for school trip and aren't allowing him to play in any reindeer games.  Of course this pisses me off and it annoys me but I also know it is normal boy stuff and a part of growing up.  I have even caught him doing it to other young kids.  So I have been trying to strike a balance when I talk to him about it.  Yesterday afternoon he came home crying because he just wanted to play a football game and the other kids didn't so Honey Bunny was talking to him about how he was being treated.  One of the things he said was that little honey bunny should remember this feeling and not make anyone else feel this way.  Good lesson right?  If you feel this bad when this happens to you - don't ever make anyone else feel that bad - even if they are not your best friend.  I feel that some of this comes down to simple human decency.  Treat others the way you want to be treated.  I also say - don't give the other kids the opportunity to see that they got to you and know that Honey Bunny and Runner Girl are always there as a safe place to land.  We do this for our children because we love them.  Why don't we do this for ourselves? Why can't we provide our own squishy puffy landing pad?  Why do we try to teach our children simple human decency when we can't even give it to ourselves?  I will tell you why - it's because it is  learned behavior.  It is not something that is a part of our physical fiber.  It is something that is taught and practiced and thought about - just like trying to parent and teach little honey bunny the golden rule.  If you have not put this into your daily life most of your life - you don't have the skills.  Loving yourself is a skill.  It is something to be nurtured and practiced.  It does not come easily if you are starting this later in life.  In fact it can seem downright silly and useless and even embarrassing.  I know most  women do not want to come across as over confident or arrogant or egotistical.  I ask you - who cares?  Surely if you can run a household, raise your children, train for races, manage a marriage, hold down a full time job, give back to your family, practice a faith, walk your dogs, take care of your house, nurture your familial relationships, get your mammograms and pap smears then surely you can take less than five minutes a day to look in the mirror naked and actually appreciate what you see.  Take even less than that - say sixty seconds - and look deeply into your own eyes every day and see what is in there.  See the pain, the stress, the beauty, the strength, the love.  See the love you have for everything around you but see the love you have for yourself.  It takes love to get you where you want to be.  Do you want to know how I know this?  Well I'm gonna tell you.  When I gave birth to little honey bunny I just about died from love.  I know we all love our children and this is not a statement that is meant to cause some spitting contest on who loves their child more. No, it is a statement of fact that for me, I had never known such love.  I love Honey Bunny like no other man.  I was content to love him for the rest of my life and not give it to any other until little honey bunny came into my life.  I can weep about this moment even still now as I am typing because it is so clear in my mind.  Over nine years ago when he came out (via emergency c-section), they immediately brought him up to my side of the curtain and the layed his cheek on mine.  My entire world view shifted.  My heart shattered into a million pieces.  Due to complications, little honey bunny struggled the first few weeks of his life and due to the massive drop in hormones and being in cold dark New York with no family or friends,  my heart stayed in fragments for several months.  At one point, I told Honey Bunny that I no longer loved him and could only have room in my heart for one person and little honey bunny was it.  Yes this was cruel and thank God Honey Bunny had the decency and where with all to realize that I was very depressed and sleep deprived and he forgave me.  When I came out of the postpartum funk and began my life as the Mom of little honey bunny my heart began to heal.  But just like the grinch when it put itself back together it felt about three sizes bigger.  The heart's capacity for love is endless.  Besides the blood pumping thing that is it's job.  To house your love.  Don't you think you can take just a little bit of that capacity for yourself?  It will make more.  I promise.

The One About Jacobellis

God I love the Olympics.  I mean I really love the Olympics.  I am a sucker for the winter, summer, all of them - almost any sport.  I loosely attach my affections to curling (strange sport - and those pants...) but regardless, I try to at least respect the tradition and team sport aspect and the fact that it is still an Olympic sport.  One of the things that I love most about the Olympics is that the athletes have to work for years to make the team and then they get one shot at a medal.  I cannot even imagine the pressure that they are under to succeed.  All of the sacrifice and the cost, financial and otherwise, from not only the athletes themselves but their families and coaches and trainers.  All of those people have something vested in these people and have attached themselves to them in order to be part of the ride.
As a marathon runner I take nothing for granted.  I realize everyday that Honey Bunny works hard and allows me to stay at home and train constantly year round.  I understand that I miss things that are important to little honey bunny as well as my Mom and Dad and Honey Bunny's Mom and Dad.  I understand that many of my friends do not get that I spend my time running and training and recovering.  I know that when I say no to things or when I have to ask them to work around my running schedule, they don't always like it.  I can appreciate the fact that it takes a village to get me to the starting line.  I would like to say that honestly, I carry all of these people with me during a race.  In all brutal honesty though, when I cross a finish line, it is all about me.  All of my sacrifice and hard work and sweat and pain is realized in that moment, not anyone else's. I work hard all year trying to get that feeling because to be quite honest, I am just a bitch without it.  Ask Honey Bunny.  I am much nicer and calmer and happier and fulfilled the day of my long run.  Usually, even if it sucked, the running buzz heals all wounds.  Which is why the Olympics moves me and continues to inspire me.
Last night I was watching the women's snowboard cross finals and I watched in about five seconds into the run, Lindsey Jacobellis went out of bounds and stumbled and just like that was disqualified.  I mean just like that, she was done.  Two years of hard work and this was supposed to be her redemption win and she didn't get it.  All gone - buh bye.  You know what she said?  "It's not the end of the world."
Um excuse me - YES IT IS!!!!!!!!!  HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND?  You spend all this time competing, getting in shape, training, sacrificing, sweating, crying, screaming, spitting, and all you can say is it's not a big deal.  If I were her mother I would be a hot mess right now.  I know most people are applauding her for having some perspective but for gosh sake's girl - get your act together and at least act like you are pissed or sad or bummed or something!!
When I watched her go down last night I was right there with her.  I got the whole DNF thing and it took me back to a time when I was really really disappointed.  In everything.  My actions, my performance, my response, my body, my mind, my successful running friends, my training, EVERYTHING.  Every element that went in to my DNF I was pissed.  No, it wasn't the end of the world for me and I was not on International TV.  But I did have people counting on me.  And I was embarrassed to have to tell everyone what happened.
As I have started to train again for Flying Pig, things have been creeping into my mind.  We have had tons of snow and ice and yucky weather which has put a big pin in some of my running so it has been slow going wrapping my brain around getting outside for 13 and 14 mile runs.  I realize that as much as I would like to put last Fall behind me I can't.  It is out there and it will always be there.  I want redemption in May to prove to myself that my last run was not a DNF.  I want to prove to all my peeps that I can do this.  I have to prove to myself that I can. I know this was going through Jacobellis's mind at the top of the mountain.  If something happens that I can't control in May and I don't finish I am going to be pissed.  No big deal does not apply to me.  Not the end of the world?  Go away bad dream.

The One About Me Being Happy

Race Report Monday will actually have to be Race Report Tuesday because little honey bunny did not have school yesterday - teacher work day - so I was not able to string three sentences together.  So - how did it go you ask?  It went GREAT I say to you!!!!  I ran the Frostbite 15K on Sunday and I ran every step of the way.  My time was not as good as the first time I ran it (I credit Honey Bunny for pacing me that day and I was also 15 pounds lighter!) but I did run the whole thing, I did finish, even though I was in the way back of the pack and I was so happy and proud of myself.  I had three clients and friends running the race for the first time and they all crossed the finish line.  I was so happy and proud and psyched for everyone's accomplishment that it just was icing on the racing cake. I really did need this to happen for me - I needed the victory of a good run and race to justify all of my hard work and to start to undo last Fall.  My training season and marathon of last year was so dismal and emotionally draining that to have a little bit of confidence going into February is really exhilarating.  Did I mention I am so happy!!!!???

This weekend I went off the diet slightly.  Saturday was o.k. for the most part but I did have a planned pre-race meal of lentil and beef soup with whole wheat bread.  I drank 2 liters of water and woke up on Sunday to have my new pre race and long training run meal of oatmeal, blueberries and flax seed.  After my run,  all bets were then off on the diet front.  I had biscuits and gravy and hash browns and then moved on to steak and fries with a martini for dinner.  Yeah I had indigestion.  My stomach hurt and I had to sit up for a few hours before I could go to bed but I didn't care - I was celebrating and was having a great time - Honey Bunny had gotten a babysitter and we were having a really nice night together.  I was feeling positive and not at all anxious.  The plan was to continue on with the detox diet on Monday morning but having little honey bunny out of school threw a slight monkey wrench into the plan and I didn't juice in the morning and I didn't start out with a liter of water.  But I did eat a salad for lunch and some veggies and fish for dinner so all was not totally lost.  This morning I got up and started again but it doesn't feel like from scratch.  I was looking forward to the juicing this morning and getting a liter of water out of the way.  I had a killer workout at the gym for about 2 hours and came home and had a salad that I had made before I left.

I seem to have an abundance of energy lately and my mood is very elevated.  Unlike last week, when I was feeling really sluggish and blah and tired, now I have tons of energy and even some drive to get things done.  My workouts have been outstanding which really surprises me because everything I have ever been told is to get up and have a huge breakfast and get your metabolism going.  This diet is the opposite - or at least it feels very different.  As for losing weight - only about two pounds came off last week.  So this week I am incorporating a few things differently.  One is I am not buying any of the snacky salty crappy things that I get for little honey bunny's lunch.  Yesterday I had a talk with him and asked him to buy those things in the cafeteria and he agreed.  I told him the truth and said I didn't want them in the house because I eat them all the time and I wanted to make better choices.  He said - no problem Mom!!!  So cute.  The other thing I am doing is I have put the body bugg back on and shooting for a daily goal of burning 2500 calories.  I enjoy the working out and didn't do much of it last week so putting these two things together hopefully will yield some results.  If not, then next week, I will move into the weighing and counting part of the diet which I would like to avoid but I want to continue to progress and make better decisions about my health.  I was reading this article in Fitness Magazine and it was an article about why your diet's aren't working.  One of the reason's was because you don't stick with it long enough.  Most people are not patient (me) and when big results don't happen, they give up (me).  You have to realize that it is not about the end result.  Do not focus on what you will weigh and what your life will be like but instead focus on the process.  Now, this makes sense to me because my biggest realization about running a marathon was that ultimately, it is not about the race itself, but it is all about the training and the journey you have taken to get there.  It is about the miles and miles you have piled on - one after another - that gets you to your goal.  So here I am, at mile two in my nutrition/diet/detox/overhaul/makeover and I am doing pretty good!!!!  Oh yeah - and in case I forgot to mention it - that makes me happy!!!!!!!