This update is to make you all aware that I have officially lost my mind. My husband would argue that my good sense was gone a long time ago, but that is a debate for later. By random chance, last month I read an article on Runner's World encouraging runners to engage in a month-long running streak from Thanksgiving to Christmas. It is supposed help us casual suburban weekend warriors combat the weight gaining effects of holiday eating habits by staying active during a month when we traditionally take it easy and indulge in fattening comfort foods. In order to participate, you simply have to make the commitment to run a minimum of one mile everyday during the streak. Crazy, right? I thought so, but still I was intrigued. Something pulled me in, slowly making me think this would be something worth trying at least once. One mile per day did not seem too taxing, and I was already in the thick of my fall/winter racing season. It did not seem too far fetched to run one mile everyday for one month.
True to my cowardly nature, I did not plan to tell anyone about my streak so I would not have to face any judgement in case I failed or decided to quit before that mission was accomplished. Seems like I am always planning ways to give myself an "out" in case Plan A falls through. Thanksgiving Day came and went, as did the official start of the Runner's World holiday streak and I did not make it out for a run. Thankful that I had kept my big mouth closed, I quietly chose another start date that would launch my own personal running streak. This start date would coincide with a countdown of sorts, spiraling to a date more significant to me...my 40th birthday. This date is in January, meaning I would have to start my streak no later than December 1st. Since it was my 40th, the streak would need to go longer than 30 days in order to have a better ring to it. So it was decided. I would have 40 days of consecutive running to celebrate my 40th birthday.
I have harped so much about my birthday that you would assume I was a showy person where this annual event is concerned, but that would be inaccurate. Normally I celebrate very quietly by running the Chevron Houston Marathon or Half-Marathon (it falls on my birthday weekend every year) and then pigging out on red velvet cake and pizza with my guys. It is our little tradition and anything that deviates from that would feel wrong. However, something about being 40 feels different . I wanted to welcome this new decade with a bigger bang than usual. Why not do something really out of the norm just to prove I am the badass that I always claim to be (at least in my head).
As I write this, I am about half way through my 40-day streak. Yes I am still crazy, but there are no running related injuries to report. The biggest obstacle has been squeezing in a run before the sun sets each evening. This means I have to make sure I leave work early enough to make it home before the darkness falls around 5:30pm. On days that I have some energy, the runs average around 3 miles. On other days when work has me drained, I stick with my one mile minimum. On those one-miler days, I drag my mini-running partner (my oldest son) along to keep me company. He is always the best running companion because he couldn't care less that mom had a rough day. He just wants to get out of the house and yak about all the adventures of a day in his life as a third grader. It is always a welcome distraction and helps me get over my drama of the moment quickly.
If all goes as planned, my 40 days will conclude on January 9th. This will allow me to have a couple of days rest in time for the Houston Half-marathon on January 13th. Since I am doing that event on behalf of the Todd Krampitz Foundation (a Run For a Reason charity), I want to try to have a decent race performance since I have blabbed to enough people that I am doing it. If you want to help, there are two ways to do so. You can go to my fundraiser page to make a small donation that will benefit the foundation's efforts to spread organ donor awareness. The second is to keep posting positive messages to me here or on my Facebook page between now and January 9th to encourage me to keep up the streak. This is my small way of giving thanks to God for a healthy body and mind, allowing me the grace to do the things I love. It was just a short time ago when ill health threatened to take that away from my family, so I count this blessing with a grateful heart. Thanks in advance for your support!
Subscribe To
Posts
All Comments
Monday, December 17, 2012
Monday, December 10, 2012
Duality of the Black Runner Girl
The divas and I participated in the RunGirl Half-Marathon this weekend and the weather was unseasonably warm, even for a Houston December morning. Temperatures started out in the low 70s and rose into 80s by the time I crossed the finish line. Speaking of which, it took a rather long time for me to cross that finish line. By the time I did finally finish, I was badly dehydrated and defeated. All the long runs and preparation leading up to this race were fairly good. I actually felt rested and strong on race morning, toeing the start line with a tiny bit of cockiness that is not the norm for me. However, the humidity left me wiped out and I pretty much gave up the fight somewhere around mile 9. It was a run/walk/shuffle blur from that point on to the finish line. Hey, at least I finished and claimed another medal, right?
As bad as this race was for me, my less than stellar performance was not what was at the forefront of my mind that morning. The RunGirl half is a women's only race nestled in the wooded beauty of a park not far from my house. Most of the faces in that crowd of 1000 runners are familiar to me from my running group, the local triathlon club, neighbors and random faces from the general area. This race is one of my favorites because it always feels like I am running among friends. It is very comforting to endure those tough challenges with friends. The problem is that most of those friends do not look like me. I am black, African American, a woman of color or whatever other politically correct title you choose to describe my ethnic make up. My running friends are every race under the sun, but only an extreme few are black. This is my concern and has been for a long time.
After all these years and numerous races, I still find myself searching the crowds for other brown faces in hopes that the numbers would have increased with each passing event. The race this weekend was no different than previous ones. In a crowd of nearly 1000 fit and fierce runner girls, I was able to count a little over 30 or so black women. Of course there were probably more than that, but the fact that I had to go several minutes on the course before running into another African American female was a bit disheartening. When I do run up next to one of these ladies on the course, I feel the strangest urge to say hi or make contact in some form to let them know I am here too. I make the same assumption that they are searching the crowd of faces in search of me as well. As corny as that may seem, it makes perfect sense when I and the other black women make eye contact at the local events in some silent affirmation that we are right where we belong and we are not alone.
I am actually a member of Black Girls Run!, a nationally recognized running group created to encourage women of color to network and increase our numbers in the running community. Sadly, the group meets at running venues that are more than 20 miles from my house, so I have never made the effort to meet up and run with them in person although I am up to date with their events and promotions. My plan is to change that really soon. I want to network with this group and find out if their experiences resemble my own. Do they sometimes feel the duality of being a black runner? Do they feel a longing to see more black women on the race courses, all while bonding and building relationships with other non-black runner friends? Do they too feel a sense of responsibility to spread the good news about running's virtues to their black non-running sisters? My husband is an avid cyclist who has numerous black male and female cycling partners he can point to within his circle of friends, so it baffles me why our women continue to shy away the sport of distance running in such large numbers.
Don't get me wrong. I am not lacking for companionship at all. My current running buddies are the truest examples of what loyal friends should be. They have stood by me through the good, the bad and the really bad. If it were not for our common running hobby, it is unlikely that we would have ever crossed paths at all. This is part of the reason these friendships are so precious to me because I recognize how rare these deep connections are, no matter the race or ethnic backgrounds of the individuals involved. I also have equally close relationships with my black girlfriends that go all the way back to my childhood roots growing up in a predominantly African American part of town. Of all my black girlfriends from the old neighborhood, college and my adult years, I can only count a mere 4 or 5 that run on regular basis. Yes, I have encouraged them to give running a try. Yes, I have shared my endless running stories of challenge and triumph in hopes that it would lure them into this sport I love. So far, it has not worked and I am not sure why. The area of town where I live is fairly mixed ethnically, but the running population is not. It is doubtful that my white running buddies have ever noticed this lack of diversity but it continues to scream at me, daring me to try to change it. I do see my black sisters in huge numbers at the gyms and at various local sporting events, but the black woman running continues to be an enigma.
By now you already know I started a running club at the high school where I work. My Go-FAR run club girls are Hispanic and African American and we still get strange looks from the neighborhood folks when we take off on our weekly runs. It is as if they have never seen black and brown young women taking their fitness seriously, and maybe that is true on some levels. I am deliberately trying to plant a seed with these young girls so the "lone black female" phenomenon I have experienced in my running days may be a thing of the past by the time these girls introduce running to their daughters. I know without a doubt that I am passing on some good habits to my run club girls, but I still want more. I need to make an effort to encourage their mothers and grandmothers to get involved as well. Heck, I am already older than most of their mothers and probably not much younger than their grandmothers (gasp!). I started running in my adult years, so why can't they? What if I started my own chapter of Black Girls Run! on my side of town? What if the number of black women running increased dramatically over the next generation? Will I pat myself on the back for having made a small positive impact on the running community or will I shake my head at how long it took me to realize I had that kind of influence?
Saturday, July 21, 2012
It's His Turn
I have been in love with my husband for 15 years and married to him for 10 of those years. Many of my own "firsts" can be dated back to around the time our relationship began. The first year of my career, my first completely new car, and even my first attempt at running all occurred about the same time this seemingly tough guy first caught my eye. We have known each other since we were kids, but it wasn't until much later into adulthood when we actually started seeing each other as something other than platonic former high school buddies. Back in those early days together, I was overweight (yes, more than I am now) and was intensely involved in a love affair with pepperoni pizza and Starbucks frappuccinos. My husband, on the other hand, has been a dedicated gym rat since his early teens. He is one of those old school original health nuts that shuns all the new age fitness fads and prefers the smelly funk of a weight room any day. Looking back, it seems ironic that a weightlifting fitness fanatic fell for a chubby chic without a fitness clue. He was a protein shake carrying workout guru and I was a wannabe feminist, too afraid to sweat out a good hair day. We evolved, thank goodness, and now we both follow an active lifestyle that will hopefully rub off on our children as well.
Juggling jobs, social outings and workout sessions has become trickier since the kids have come along. When my boys were babies, we took turns with our respective workouts. While hubby and the babies were still asleep, I would wake up at the butt crack of dawn on the weekends to get a run completed before the oppressive sun made the temps unbearable. Upon my return home, hubby and I would switch places and he would head out to the gym for his own private time. These days we can take the kids with us to workout excursions if they are so inclined. Child care is not nearly as stressful as it was back in those early days but we still have to schedule our workouts ahead of time until the boys are more mature. I still usually workout during the early morning hours and he prefers gym time later in the evening.
I took you down this nostalgic stroll on Memory Lane because a new wrinkle has been added to the fold. Hubby is now a new runner and cyclist. Although I recognize the symptoms, it is still hard to believe he caught the running and cycling bug like so many others. When he first spotted his most recent pair of running shoes, he got all giddy in the store as if he'd just eyed his first big boy train set. When he was shopping for his bike, he courted it the same way he courted me in the early days of our relationship. Now that he has all his shiny new gear, he handles the stuff with kid gloves like he once handled our newborn babies. Oh yeah, and I am having a blast teasing him about his behavior. To get the full picture, you have to understand that this man does not lose his cool often. He prides himself on his tough guy demeanor and does not let too many people see the chinks in his armored exterior. However, watching him jump in his car like a whipped little girl every time the bike store has a sale is better than watching a classic Saturday Night Live skit. He loves his new hobbies and I love seeing him happy. He deserves it.
All of this has propelled him to register for his very first triathlon, scheduled for late September. Registering for a race in September is deliberate because it coincides with the one year anniversary of his kidney transplant. This is his way of bringing things full circle after a year of so many heartbreaking challenges. Thanks to his athletic background, the training has not been too strenuous for him. He just has to get into the practice of doing three different events in one race. He has hired a swim coach, connected with some cycling buddies and actually came to me, of all people, for running advice. Imagine that...the master has humbled himself to seek instruction from a mere mortal. Don't think for one minute that I won't use this as fodder the next time he makes fun of me and my off beat running quirks. He has now achieved his first running injury and his first big fall on his bike. Both seemed to have injured his pride more than his body, but at least it has loosened some of his newbie tensions.
I have to remember my role of support while he enjoys this new transition. In the early days, hubby accompanied me to every race and cheered for me at every finish line like I was a world class athlete. His unconditional support was the one constant I could count on, even when my running performance was uncoordinated and unpredictable. Before my confidence grew as a runner, I was childish and superstitious and sometimes down right bitchy when things did not go my way. Hubby was on the receiving end of a lot of that bad behavior and I feel like I never completely made up for it. Now I get the chance to repay him for all the times he put his workout plans on hold just so I could take an evening run on the trails. I can now properly thank him for all the times he played Mr. Mom on his own while I took weekend trips away with the divas to run whatever race of my choice. For every time he remembered on whatever gift-giving holiday that I am not a "flowers and candy" kind of girl and bought me running shoes instead, I can now show my true appreciation. I still have to correct myself sometimes, but overall it feels good to give him first pick when it comes to scheduling our workout times.
Even if he only acts like he wants to go for a bike ride or a treadmill run, I try to prioritize his time ahead of mine because it is his turn to come first after playing a supportive role for me so many years. He is happy and carefree on his bike and it is a beautiful sight to see someone you love light up that way about something so simple. Hubby has always been that type of supportive and giving guy to a lot of people in his life. He does not ask for anything in return. However, I want to make sure he holds on to his new hobbies for his own selfish reasons. His cycling and running doesn't have to benefit anyone but himself. It can suck time away during his leisurely weekend hours just because he wants to. He can splurge his extra dollars on new gear just because it makes him happy. But most of all, I hope he is able to lose himself in a carefree stroll just for the chance to make his spirit a little lighter. It's his turn to let go and his time to feel the joy of a great escape.
Juggling jobs, social outings and workout sessions has become trickier since the kids have come along. When my boys were babies, we took turns with our respective workouts. While hubby and the babies were still asleep, I would wake up at the butt crack of dawn on the weekends to get a run completed before the oppressive sun made the temps unbearable. Upon my return home, hubby and I would switch places and he would head out to the gym for his own private time. These days we can take the kids with us to workout excursions if they are so inclined. Child care is not nearly as stressful as it was back in those early days but we still have to schedule our workouts ahead of time until the boys are more mature. I still usually workout during the early morning hours and he prefers gym time later in the evening.
I took you down this nostalgic stroll on Memory Lane because a new wrinkle has been added to the fold. Hubby is now a new runner and cyclist. Although I recognize the symptoms, it is still hard to believe he caught the running and cycling bug like so many others. When he first spotted his most recent pair of running shoes, he got all giddy in the store as if he'd just eyed his first big boy train set. When he was shopping for his bike, he courted it the same way he courted me in the early days of our relationship. Now that he has all his shiny new gear, he handles the stuff with kid gloves like he once handled our newborn babies. Oh yeah, and I am having a blast teasing him about his behavior. To get the full picture, you have to understand that this man does not lose his cool often. He prides himself on his tough guy demeanor and does not let too many people see the chinks in his armored exterior. However, watching him jump in his car like a whipped little girl every time the bike store has a sale is better than watching a classic Saturday Night Live skit. He loves his new hobbies and I love seeing him happy. He deserves it.
All of this has propelled him to register for his very first triathlon, scheduled for late September. Registering for a race in September is deliberate because it coincides with the one year anniversary of his kidney transplant. This is his way of bringing things full circle after a year of so many heartbreaking challenges. Thanks to his athletic background, the training has not been too strenuous for him. He just has to get into the practice of doing three different events in one race. He has hired a swim coach, connected with some cycling buddies and actually came to me, of all people, for running advice. Imagine that...the master has humbled himself to seek instruction from a mere mortal. Don't think for one minute that I won't use this as fodder the next time he makes fun of me and my off beat running quirks. He has now achieved his first running injury and his first big fall on his bike. Both seemed to have injured his pride more than his body, but at least it has loosened some of his newbie tensions.
I have to remember my role of support while he enjoys this new transition. In the early days, hubby accompanied me to every race and cheered for me at every finish line like I was a world class athlete. His unconditional support was the one constant I could count on, even when my running performance was uncoordinated and unpredictable. Before my confidence grew as a runner, I was childish and superstitious and sometimes down right bitchy when things did not go my way. Hubby was on the receiving end of a lot of that bad behavior and I feel like I never completely made up for it. Now I get the chance to repay him for all the times he put his workout plans on hold just so I could take an evening run on the trails. I can now properly thank him for all the times he played Mr. Mom on his own while I took weekend trips away with the divas to run whatever race of my choice. For every time he remembered on whatever gift-giving holiday that I am not a "flowers and candy" kind of girl and bought me running shoes instead, I can now show my true appreciation. I still have to correct myself sometimes, but overall it feels good to give him first pick when it comes to scheduling our workout times.
Even if he only acts like he wants to go for a bike ride or a treadmill run, I try to prioritize his time ahead of mine because it is his turn to come first after playing a supportive role for me so many years. He is happy and carefree on his bike and it is a beautiful sight to see someone you love light up that way about something so simple. Hubby has always been that type of supportive and giving guy to a lot of people in his life. He does not ask for anything in return. However, I want to make sure he holds on to his new hobbies for his own selfish reasons. His cycling and running doesn't have to benefit anyone but himself. It can suck time away during his leisurely weekend hours just because he wants to. He can splurge his extra dollars on new gear just because it makes him happy. But most of all, I hope he is able to lose himself in a carefree stroll just for the chance to make his spirit a little lighter. It's his turn to let go and his time to feel the joy of a great escape.
Monday, July 2, 2012
Weight Loss Report: Month 2
Remember all that boisterous talk about me reaching another 5 pound milestone by the time July 1st rolled around? When I started out on this weight loss adventure, I vowed to lose 5 pounds a month until I reached my goal weight. If that would have happened, I would be about half way to the finish line right now. Confession time...I did not reach that goal this month. I lost 1 pound in June. Only 1 pound! This is painful to admit, let alone put it out there for everyone to know. Yeah, I am disappointed, but if I am honest with myself I know there were several instances in the past four weeks when I fell off the diet train with gusto. It is summer time and my entire household has fallen into a nice easy schedule of relaxing and snacking 'round the clock. I have kept up with my diet journal in an effort to remain within my allotted calorie count, but the contents of it have far more processed snack foods that it should. A sinful bite here and a sweet taste there adds up quickly. My freezer is stocked with ice cream and the cookie jar is filled with homemade chocolate chunk cookies for my ever hungry two growing sons. There have been endless social gatherings with family and friends where margaritas and delicious summer comfort foods were plentiful. Again, I am not making excuses for my behavior. I could have done better and I did not. This is simply an honest inventory of my dietary sins from the last four weeks.
There is an up side I am happy to report, or several actually. Yes, I have slipped up quite a bit diet-wise during the month of June, but my workouts have been incredible. I have returned to my strength training routine like a beast and it has started to pay off. My routine has been a three-day split and I do things slightly different each time. I have the attention span of a gnat when it is something I don't want to do. I work all upper body twice a week and legs once per week. Why legs only once per week? Running is my first workout love, so between morning runs with my buds and the occasional treadmill excursion my legs get worked in excess. Last month I spent a great deal of time in the gym just knocking off my body's cobwebs and getting back into a steady routine without my muscles screaming for mercy with each rep. This month my strength has returned and I can see the early signs of muscle definition. Yeah! Nothing strokes your ego better than finally seeing the results of your hard physical labor. It takes about 12 weeks of regular weight lifting and dieting for your body's strength gains to show up in full glory, so this is truly the early stages. My body still carries a thick layer of fat, though not a much as it used to. Things don't jiggle like they did two months ago. I am still thick, but the thickness is more solid and toned lately. Put a check mark in the success column for this. Strength training is paying off.
On a side note, I have to jump back onto my soapbox and start preaching again. I hear a lot of women complain about the shape of their bodies, no matter how chunky or thin they may be. We tend to join a gym and spend all our time on a cardio machine we like and sweat for hours, expecting to see some body shaping results. A very wise young lady (an aerobics instructor) once said that working out exclusively on just cardio will work the hell out of that one part of your body (cardio, i.e. your heart). You will end up with a very strong heart, but the rest of your body will look pretty much the same as it always has. My advice from personal experience is that increased muscle tone can benefit every body type. This is not some newly adopted idea of mine. I have long preached the benefits of women increasing their muscle mass. I am just as guilty as anyone about not practicing what I preach in this area.
All the general complaints we have about the female physique can be improved by increasing our muscle mass. Jiggling thighs, chunks of cellulite, flabby arms, and droopy boobs can be coaxed into better shape with regular strength training. Not having a gym membership is no excuse to avoid strength training. Simple old fashioned moves like push ups, squats, lunges and crunches can be done anywhere, anytime, without any equipment. Bottom line is you have to shoot for the complete package. You have to eat good nutritious foods, you have to burn fat with challenging cardio sessions and you must include regular strength training to see positive results. Anyone can lose weight by restricting their calories alone, but their body won't be anything they want to show off because their body's muscle-to-fat ratio will still be lopsided. No one wants to be skinny enough to be able to fit into a bikini and then too embarrassed to actually walk around in it because of their jiggling flabbiness.
Speed work is now a part of my weekly rotation as well. I have been forced to do speed intervals on the treadmill (UGH!) because several of the local school tracks have been under repair for weeks. For a slug like me, the only thing worse than actually doing speed work is having to do said speed work on the revolving belt of a treadmill like a freakin' hamster in a cage. I breathe louder, I sweat more and my uncoordinated tendencies reach an all time high when I do speed work. Having all this on display, in a gym, on a treadmill next to other unsuspecting patrons is just plain wrong. Last week, I ended up on a treadmill next to my son's old first grade teacher and I could tell my sweat droplets flying into her personal space was a wee bit of a distraction for her. The good news is I have done either a speed interval or a tempo run once per week this past month and it is tolerable enough for me to want to keep it up a little longer. One welcome benefit is that although my speed sessions are shorter, they burn more calories in less time than my usual back-of-the-pack pace. The pay off will be revealed whenever I sign up for my next race to see if I can push my limits just a little without too much carnage.
Total up all these developments and the result is that I am down one complete jeans size after two months of effort. The numbers on the scale are not decreasing as quickly as I would like, but I know the changes are happening because my formerly too tight clothes are becoming wearable again. My muscle definition is slowly coming into view and I have not given up on speed work just yet. I have learned the same lesson (again!) that my diet still needs improvement. Overall I have cleaned up my diet a great deal but I can do so much better. My house is walking distance from two grocery stores, so keeping a constant stock of fresh fruits and vegetables should be a no-brainer. My house is also walking distance from roughly 20 or so fast food restaurants, too. Surely you understand my struggle (wink, wink). Next month I WILL be down 5 more pounds (yes, I am declaring it!) and I know I will be able to continue to do the same workout efforts barring any illness or injury. Being on this train for the last two months should mean I have passed a point of no return, pushing me closer to a goal I set weeks ago with no guarantees of success. I don't want to have to start over again and again like I always have, more discouraged and disgruntled than the times before. As the saying goes...if you are tired of staring over, then stop giving up. This will be my new mantra as I head into another month on my weight loss journey.
There is an up side I am happy to report, or several actually. Yes, I have slipped up quite a bit diet-wise during the month of June, but my workouts have been incredible. I have returned to my strength training routine like a beast and it has started to pay off. My routine has been a three-day split and I do things slightly different each time. I have the attention span of a gnat when it is something I don't want to do. I work all upper body twice a week and legs once per week. Why legs only once per week? Running is my first workout love, so between morning runs with my buds and the occasional treadmill excursion my legs get worked in excess. Last month I spent a great deal of time in the gym just knocking off my body's cobwebs and getting back into a steady routine without my muscles screaming for mercy with each rep. This month my strength has returned and I can see the early signs of muscle definition. Yeah! Nothing strokes your ego better than finally seeing the results of your hard physical labor. It takes about 12 weeks of regular weight lifting and dieting for your body's strength gains to show up in full glory, so this is truly the early stages. My body still carries a thick layer of fat, though not a much as it used to. Things don't jiggle like they did two months ago. I am still thick, but the thickness is more solid and toned lately. Put a check mark in the success column for this. Strength training is paying off.
On a side note, I have to jump back onto my soapbox and start preaching again. I hear a lot of women complain about the shape of their bodies, no matter how chunky or thin they may be. We tend to join a gym and spend all our time on a cardio machine we like and sweat for hours, expecting to see some body shaping results. A very wise young lady (an aerobics instructor) once said that working out exclusively on just cardio will work the hell out of that one part of your body (cardio, i.e. your heart). You will end up with a very strong heart, but the rest of your body will look pretty much the same as it always has. My advice from personal experience is that increased muscle tone can benefit every body type. This is not some newly adopted idea of mine. I have long preached the benefits of women increasing their muscle mass. I am just as guilty as anyone about not practicing what I preach in this area.
All the general complaints we have about the female physique can be improved by increasing our muscle mass. Jiggling thighs, chunks of cellulite, flabby arms, and droopy boobs can be coaxed into better shape with regular strength training. Not having a gym membership is no excuse to avoid strength training. Simple old fashioned moves like push ups, squats, lunges and crunches can be done anywhere, anytime, without any equipment. Bottom line is you have to shoot for the complete package. You have to eat good nutritious foods, you have to burn fat with challenging cardio sessions and you must include regular strength training to see positive results. Anyone can lose weight by restricting their calories alone, but their body won't be anything they want to show off because their body's muscle-to-fat ratio will still be lopsided. No one wants to be skinny enough to be able to fit into a bikini and then too embarrassed to actually walk around in it because of their jiggling flabbiness.
Speed work is now a part of my weekly rotation as well. I have been forced to do speed intervals on the treadmill (UGH!) because several of the local school tracks have been under repair for weeks. For a slug like me, the only thing worse than actually doing speed work is having to do said speed work on the revolving belt of a treadmill like a freakin' hamster in a cage. I breathe louder, I sweat more and my uncoordinated tendencies reach an all time high when I do speed work. Having all this on display, in a gym, on a treadmill next to other unsuspecting patrons is just plain wrong. Last week, I ended up on a treadmill next to my son's old first grade teacher and I could tell my sweat droplets flying into her personal space was a wee bit of a distraction for her. The good news is I have done either a speed interval or a tempo run once per week this past month and it is tolerable enough for me to want to keep it up a little longer. One welcome benefit is that although my speed sessions are shorter, they burn more calories in less time than my usual back-of-the-pack pace. The pay off will be revealed whenever I sign up for my next race to see if I can push my limits just a little without too much carnage.
Total up all these developments and the result is that I am down one complete jeans size after two months of effort. The numbers on the scale are not decreasing as quickly as I would like, but I know the changes are happening because my formerly too tight clothes are becoming wearable again. My muscle definition is slowly coming into view and I have not given up on speed work just yet. I have learned the same lesson (again!) that my diet still needs improvement. Overall I have cleaned up my diet a great deal but I can do so much better. My house is walking distance from two grocery stores, so keeping a constant stock of fresh fruits and vegetables should be a no-brainer. My house is also walking distance from roughly 20 or so fast food restaurants, too. Surely you understand my struggle (wink, wink). Next month I WILL be down 5 more pounds (yes, I am declaring it!) and I know I will be able to continue to do the same workout efforts barring any illness or injury. Being on this train for the last two months should mean I have passed a point of no return, pushing me closer to a goal I set weeks ago with no guarantees of success. I don't want to have to start over again and again like I always have, more discouraged and disgruntled than the times before. As the saying goes...if you are tired of staring over, then stop giving up. This will be my new mantra as I head into another month on my weight loss journey.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)