So Sore

That workout that I did yesterday absolutely killed me.  Which is interesting because the entire time I was doing it I was wondering if I was even working hard enough.  Well, the fact that I had to waddle around work today proved that I was, in fact, working hard enough.  Since I work out every day, I rarely get DOMS anymore, so I kind of love it when I do.

Other than waddling around campus, work was great.  One of the students graduated (they graduate when they are 22, so they are with us for a very long time.  Graduations are bittersweet.) and we had a party.  Even though I had never worked with this student, it was still a good time.  The sun even came out at the perfect moment and it was probably in the high 60s.  Which led me to the decision that I would just go home and workout instead of spending time in the '90s.  Well, when I finally got home (the drive is 20 minutes one way), it was foggy and cold.  I still strapped on my running shoes and tried to shake out the soreness in my legs while my Garmin was trying to find its satellite.

I got a new PR on my 5k time.  I was pretty excited, considering from the moment my ran began I felt like my legs were disconnected from my body.  I even had this really strange moment at the beginning that I had to remind myself that I was running and I probably should pay attention so that I didn't trip and fall.  I'm also really bored with my 5k run around the neighborhood.  I know exactly where the uphill parts are and I dread them.  I guess that makes me push harder through the hills (term is used lightly, more like gradual grade that isn't flat).  

When I got home, I did my shoulder routine.  My 4 minute plank yesterday killed my shoulders, so this workout felt really tedious.  I was also hungry, so all I could think about was food.  Sometimes, workouts are hard.

One of my very best friends from high school moved home for the summer.  Some jerk completely broke her heart, so she moved home after living in Portland for 2 years.  This is really exciting news because I have missed her greatly.  She came over when I was finished working out along with my other best friend (we were a trio in high school).  

This is a very old picture from when she still lived here and we spent several hours each day giggling in her apartment.

Another old one.  We were "studying."

We laughed til we cried, as usual.  We also ate, as usual.  I am so happy to have her home.

My delicious Mexican dinner.

Some exciting news: it seems I have convinced the boyfriend to run a race with me!  I think I am corrupting him.  I told him I wanted to run a 5k race just to see how hard I could push myself and asked if he would run one with me.

I think he loves me or something.  He's working a 96 hour shift this week, so he won't be getting off work until SATURDAY morning.  It feels so long.

How To Slow Yourself Down For An Easy Recovery Run

I've read on every single running blog I read somewhere that today is National Running Day, so happy Running Day runners!  I am in a very happy on-again moment in my relationship with running, so I obviously could just NOT celebrate!

On Monday, a beautiful thing happened.

That's right, I convinced the boyfriend to come to the gym with me.  We did deadlifts (where I PR'd and lifted 195!  I'm so close to 200.  I tried 205, got it off the ground, but couldn't get it up all the way), squats (failed miserably after the deadlifts), and then back.

Tuesday, I ran 3.2 miles, pumped out my chest/tricep workout and then made beef stirfry with absolutely no recipe.  Totally made it up, and it came out great.  It's amazing what happens when I actually try.

Oh, and this guy finally came home after what seems like 25 years.

Since today is National Running Day, I knew I couldn't spend it not running.  I worked in my old classroom today, which has become almost a weekly Wednesday thing.  There's only one more Wednesday until the end of the school year, so I wonder if I will get to be in there again.  I feel so at peace in that classroom.   Those are my people and my kids.  I feel so possessive.  

Anyway, I came home instead of to the gym for a change.  I have an entire home gym that hasn't been used in awhile simply because the gym has a couple of pieces of equipment that I don't have (machines mostly).  But I wanted to do some kind of HIIT workout since I haven't been focusing much on sprints lately.  I found this workout which was awesome.  I ended up doing the entire thing.

Then I did what I had been waiting to do all day.  Went for a run.

How to slow down your pace, decrease your distance, and make sure you get as frustrated as possible while running.  Step 1:

Decide to take your lazy beagle running with you.  Step 2: Drag him for a mile and a half before he stops all together and refuses to go another inch.  Step 3: Drag him for another half of a mile home to drop him off so that you can then finish your run.  Step 4: Get going at a really good pace for .2 miles and receive an important phone call.  Step 5: Decide that the universe does not want you to run on National Running Day and go home.  Then make sure you give your lazy dog lots of love.

I finished my workout with this:

Now my shoulders are killing me.  I refueled with about 80 pounds of fruit, delicious lemon chicken, roasted broccoli, and salad.

It was a fabulous holiday.

Body Image

For the past month, I feel like any time I see someone who I haven't seen in awhile, they tell me how great I look.  I don't bring this up to sound vain, I bring it up because every single time someone tells me how good I look, I am seriously taken aback.  Like, stopped in my tracks.  And that's because when I look in the mirror, I still see the flawed areas of my body.

I cannot pinpoint the moment in my life where I decided to start thinking of myself as fat and unattractive.  I was always chunky as a child, but I don't remember caring.  I just remember being a kid.    

My parents always told me I was beautiful and amazing just the way I am.  They still do.  The earliest memory I have of negative body image is probably from when I was around 12.  My mom was giving my brother a bath and I remember sitting outside of the bathroom in the hallway bawling.  I don't remember what set it off, but I do distinctly remember when my mom asked what was wrong, I told her that I was, "fat and ugly."

From that time in my life on, I can remember looking at myself in the mirror and not liking what I saw.  I was always a little bigger than my friends and kids in school are not nice.  I grew out of my awkward phase in high school, but still continued to look in the mirror and see someone I didn't like.

When I moved home from Santa Barbara, I began to do something about changing what I didn't like about my body.  I cut out candy (I still haven't eaten any candy since 2007), started walk/jogging, and I instantly lost 15 pounds.  I started weighing myself and the number on the scale kept going down.  Then I had to start buying smaller clothes.  And before I knew it, I had lost about 35 pounds.

And wouldn't you know it?  I STILL didn't like what I saw.  I still complained how fat I was.  I still complained that my stomach jiggled.  I hated looking in the mirror because I didn't like what I saw.  I criticized every single aspect of my body.  And fell deep into an eating disorder.  I ran 7-8 miles a day and refused to eat until after 5pm.  Then I would gorge on "safe" food until my stomach hurt.  This cycle lasted way too long.  I felt strong when I didn't eat anything while the people around me were shoveling food into their faces.  I felt strong when I baked cakes for other people that I refused to eat.  I felt strong when I fit into size 2 jeans.  I also felt cold constantly.  I felt more exhausted that I had ever felt in my life.  I felt stressed out.  If something got in the way of my gym time or I had to go somewhere to eat that didn't have "safe" food, I would have a breakdown.  I would stare at myself in the mirror and swear I gained back all the weight I had worked to lose.  I looked sick.  I was sick.

After a year of this, I finally got help.  And slowly but surely, I got better.  I put back on about 20 much needed pounds.  This was hard for me.  Really hard.  My body image still was not healthy.  Not even close to it.  Finally, in 2011, after complaining way too much about my "fat body," my ex boyfriend introduced me to weight lifting and clean eating.  He told me that if I wasn't happy with myself, then maybe I would be happier with my body if I tried strength training and eating less processed foods.  

The moment I picked up the iron, I was in love.  I finally felt strong.  Something in my brain switched and I knew that I needed to fuel my body if I wanted to get stronger, if I wanted to run farther without wanting to quit, if I wanted to have energy in the gym to be able to do what I wanted to do.  Food became fuel, not an enemy.  My body became a temple that could pick up a piece of equipment that weighed as much as a cheeta.  In the gym, I feel like I can conquer the world, but at home, in the privacy of my room, when I look in the mirror, I still see that fat little girl.  I still see my flaws instead of focusing on the good things about my body.  I still feel obese.  

Body image is something I will always have to work on.  I will never look like a fitness model because I'm NOT a fitness model.  I enjoy eating foods that may be too high in carbs, I like going out to eat with friends, I enjoy an alcoholic beverage every once in awhile.  Life isn't all about macros and calories.  I have been working on looking in the mirror and seeing what other people see.  I will focus on one aspect of my body that I DO like, that I think looks really great, and tell myself how awesome it is that I look like that.  I remind myself that I am a good person who cares about others, who has a good work ethic, and that life isn't all about how I look.  I have an amazing family, fantastic friends, and I am much more than just a body. 

  

I am in a very healthy space now.  I'm so happy with my life and the people in it.  I am proud of my body and what it does for me every single day.  But I think I am still going to be taken aback when someone tells me how good I look.  I hope that some day, very soon, I can change that too.

How Far I've Come

This morning started off with grand plans of me running 10 miles outside just so that I got to use my Garmin.  Well, that went out the window when I looked outside and it was raining and blowing wind at approximately 9000 miles per hour.  No exaggeration, really!  So boyfriend and I laid in bed with Moe just talking until it was time to get up and go to brunch.  By the time we got to brunch, it was sunny, but still windy.  The weather around here is nuts.  We ate brunch outside to soak up some vitamin D.

When breakfast was finished, boyfriend's mom put him on the task of thinning out the giant tree in the backyard.  It started out innocently enough.

Then it got progressively scarier.

I was very helpful and stood out of the way taking pictures of my nervous face.  Let's just say heights and I are not very close friends.  I like my feet on the ground.

We also made a friend in the process.

That project took about 2 hours and by the time we were back on the road to home it was already almost 4pm.  I still had a long run looming ahead of me, so I hopped into workout clothes and sped over to my dad's to get on the treadmill.  I'm a total pansy when it comes to weather, and even though the sun had decided to stay out, the wind was still blowing at about a million miles per hour, so I decided to keep it inside.  My Garmin will have to wait until next weekend for the long run.  I pumped out 10 miles while watching Criminal Minds and Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives.  A side note, the host of that show is from the same small town the boyfriend is from.  It's one of our claims to fame.  Oh, and Sara Bareilles graduated from my high school.  We're pretty awesome.

If you look very carefully, you will see awkward family photos all over the walls....

Ten miles makes me a little nutty.

When I came inside, dinner was practically ready.  I wish that food could just always be ready for me immediately after finishing a workout.  It was amazing.

Chili, salad, and polenta.

And of course, no refuel is complete without a bowl full of whipped cream.

After I showered and the boyfriend and step mom played a rousing game of chess, we came home and went for a walk.  Who doesn't love to go for walks after running 10 miles?  And by walk, I mean this happened.

On to more important stuff.  Today is my running/exercise partner's birthday.  I have her to thank for getting into the best shape I've ever been in in my entire life.  Exactly one year ago today, she forced our trainer and I to run the 5 mile race I did just a couple of weeks ago.  At that point, I hadn't run more than 2 miles in a very long time.  I was focusing on weight lifting, had just gotten into a new relationship, and was in an off period with my on again/off again relationship with running.  She kicked my butt (she ALWAYS kicks my butt) but I forced myself to keep up with her.  That started a long year of racing, progressing to an 8 3/4 mile race.  That was the farthest I had run EVER in my life and there were about 9 gazillion steep hills and with her by my side yelling at me every step of the way that I WASN'T actually going to die, I finished without walking.  She's the only reason I didn't walk.  She also threatened me with burpees at the end if I kept saying "I can't." 

 After that, I was convinced to run the 10 miler with her.  We trained together, doing our long runs on Sundays and occasionally doing shorter runs together during the week, but always keeping the other one accountable.  Race day came and around mile 7, I wanted to slow down and die walk, but she would have none of the slowing down business and we killed our goal time.  It was after crossing that finish line that I KNEW I could complete a half marathon, which had been a goal of mine since I started running in 2007.  

I went back and forth about signing up, but never got a real answer from her about running it with me.  I couldn't believe I was the one trying to convince her to run a race when it had always been the other way around.  Well, she told me a couple of weeks before the race and a couple of weeks after we ran 5 miles together and she was the one who couldn't keep up, that she was pregnant!  I am so happy for her because I knew she had been trying.  I also knew she would probably force me to do 90 gazillion burpees if I didn't sign up for the race.  So I ran it alone, but her voice was the voice I heard yelling at me for 13.1 miles.  I even mustered up enough energy at the end to sprint, which she always does while I'm always the one crawling to the finish.  

Today, during my 10 mile run, I thought of just how far I have come since that 5 mile race a year ago.  And it's all thanks to her.  She helped me to re-find my love for running.  She kept me going when I so badly wanted to quit.  She forced me to do a 100 day burpee challenge last July that I only completed because I couldn't let her down.  If I hadn't have found her, I'd still be exercising, since it's my passion, but I would not have run a half marathon.  I would not have run the 10 mile race.  I would not be in the shape that I am now.  I am so happy that she was born and was brought into my life and I know we will definitely cross a half marathon finish line together next year!  

100

My Dad and Mom Regular readers might remember last month when I got to ALMOST 100 miles.  Well, this month, I did it!  After my 9 mile run on Wednesday, I realized just how little I had to run to make it to 100, with only two days left in the month (okay, it was another 9 miles...).  But I'm insane dedicated and made sure to run enough to get to 100 miles in the month of May.

Yesterday, after work (where we field tripped to the main campus for a dance which was the funnest/most amazing thing I've ever experienced.  Those kids were SO happy!), I knew I had a little less than 5 miles to run to get to 100.  So, I hopped on the treadmill and did 3.5.  Okay, that's a lie.  I did 3.1 before the treadmill locked up on me and told me that I was banned from using it?!  Seriously, it said that.  So I got on another treadmill to finish the .4 miles I had to go.  During that time I had been texting the boyfriend who wanted to try out his new headphones while running, so I told him I just had a little under 2 miles to go to get to 100 miles this month and we could run around the park when I was done lifting.  Lifting weights is still my first love.

The boyfriend forced me to stand in the freezing wind while he messed with his headphones.

One lap around the park is almost 1 mile, so I told me we only had to do 2 laps, which made him happy since he's not really much of a runner.  I also got to use my Garmin for the first time, which I felt was appropriate since I was completing a pretty big goal of mine.  I started the watch and took off at a 7:25 minute mile pace for the first mile.  The second one was a little slower since I kept turning around and running back to the boyfriend.  All of the speed work I've been doing on the treadmill has been paying off.  Unfortunately, this means the boyfriend is always about a minute behind me.  I was feeling great though, and really wanted to get those 2 miles done.

First run with my precious and 100 miles complete.  With a redwood in the background.

Finished 100 miles!

Then we came home and I forced asked the boyfriend nicely to make me dinner before I had to run off again to babysit.  The child I babysit is seriously one of the best behaved, smartest kids I've ever had a the pleasure of hanging out with.  We watched four episodes of Speed Racer (which I did not realize was a cartoon from the 60's) while eating gelato from our local gelato store.  Then we did a 100 piece puzzle that he kicked my butt at because I am terrible at even the easiest puzzles before reading him 5 books and falling asleep.  I was severely dehydrated the whole time and was feeling really, really weird.  I thought I might throw up all over the kid, so I didn't realize that I needed to drink water.  When I got home, I flopped into bed and the boyfriend made me drink a gallon of water.  I felt better almost instantly.

Boyfriend made me dinner.

My night.

This morning I woke up and did laundry, because that's the best way to spend Saturday morning.  I also met my mom at Costco to stock up on fruit and gasoline.  When I got home I was itching for a run, so I forced the boyfriend to run a "slow, easy run" with me.  Well, my slow easy pace ended up being about a minute faster than his slow easy pace and I ended up losing him.  Literally.  One minute he was behind me and the next he disappeared.  So, I kept going and assumed he had went home.  Girlfriend of the year award right here.

That was slow and easy for me...

"Where did you go?!?" -Me "Why do you force me to run and then leave me?!" -Him

Then we met my dad at our local country club for lunch.

Now we are about to head off to our monthly event called Art's Alive where stores have live music and free food and local artwork.  It's a fun way to spend the first weekend of each month.