Ok, I started this in part to keep myself accountable. So, now I have to do that.
That means admitting I've been off the proverbial wagon for the last seven days. It's hard to admit this, because it means admitting the bad choices I've made, and the fact that I knew they weren't the most helpful choices as I was making them. It's not like I can say, "What?! I had no idea that it was a bad plan to eat that cake!"
I needed things I wasn't getting, so I put other things in place that were not what I needed but made it seem like I was getting by. I loved my friends' visit, but of course being "on vacay" or having people visit from out of town often means eating out. Still, though, while there were some extravagances during their visit (most notably more alcohol than I generally do, risotto, some apple cake - delish by the way - and some self-serve fro-yo) there was also a lot of vegetables, a lovely salad lunch, and some exercise. What really was caused me to fall over the edge was not their visit or my semi-vacation eating, but instead all the things leading up to it. If anything, the semi-vacation time in my own city brought some balance back to "the force."
See, September put me on the road every day but three, and it wasn't good for me. I needed more time, more support in my work and personal life, more practical help from my office, more sleep, a more solid plan to eat well and exercise, and some downtime so that I could process, think, and set myself up to make good decisions. What I got was an average of 5 hours of sleep a night, the need to do all of my cooking in two hours a week, having to make myself go to the gym after 9pm and after 10-14 hour work days, eating in the car, and working longer and longer hours and falling more and more behind on administrative office work. I got a lot of tired, a lot of unanswered personal and professional questions, and a lot of pressure to do and be more.
I am glad to report that I missed only two of my workout assignments from my trainer in September, and worked really hard for all of the days September, to eat healthy. I walked in the mornings, though the beginning of the end of my commitment was when I stopped getting up at 6am to do that regularly. I ate a lot of healthy food, but the FRED voices worked their way in. I was tired and stressed out pretty much every day, all day and there was a stress toll paid as well. I've noticed that FRED has a lot less to do with bad food being present, and a lot more to do with addictive eating, emotional or stress eating. FRED has almost nothing to do with being hungry, but for sure being tired is a big predictor of what I will hear loudest inside my head.Yes, that's right . . . like a schizophrenic, something I'm starting to learn about myself is that there are some internal voices I need to make friends with; those that ell me it's a good idea to have the whole box of Cheezits, as well as those that clamor for kale salad and chicken breast.
It started so innocently. I baked some gluten free pumpkin bread for my singing class. I didn't intend to eat it, but to give it away. But then my class was canceled and I had a serious carb (with chocolate!) on my hands. I had a few pieces and then decided it was wiser to throw it out than keep it. Good job, Christie, good job.
Then the next week I had done 10 hours of working out, and I needed to add a couple of hundred calories to my day - pizza. A week later, I had joked with my boyfriend about cheese fries and he showed up with them. None of these things derailed my results, so it was easy to treat them as isolated incidents, instead of a pattern. Looking back though, there was a result I hadn't taken into account - how I felt about what I was doing, and an erosion to my resolve and my choices. Pumpkin bread, pizza, and cheese fries became sandwiches, a cookie, and a scone. And soon, September ended and I was tossed into a two day conference in October. Have you been to one of these things? It's food allllll dayyyyy loooooooong. It's also a sit-fest and an expectation to be professionally "on" all day, up to 10 hours, and then still somehow make up for the phone calls and emails that have been missed afterwords. I found myself in a hotel, not all that far from home, but it might as well have been in Srilanka for as far away as I felt from the semblance of eating-and-exercising routine I had established. We were at breakfast at 7:30-8, in workshops from 8-5:30, and then had networking sessions. I wasn't obligated to be at the networking sessions, but with as many people as I'd been in small group exercises with, and as many people there from my company, it would have been rude not to go.
My first day at the workshop went like this:
7:30 Breakfast of fruit and bagel. I swear, that was the healthiest choice
10 Snack - the same foods as offered at breakfast plus a rack of chips
1 Lunch - I ate salad because it was the best choice, but there were no protein sources I felt comfortable with so I knew I would be hungry in the afternoon . . . damn.
3ish Snack - chips, veggies and dip, candy bars, ice cream offered. I had veggies and dip and Smartfood popcorn. I was really hungry from lunch. I stared down the candy bars . . . it was hard to walk away.
5:30 Our cocktail hour and networking session. Beer,well drinks, wine, sushi that I couldn't eat because it had mayo in it (you really don't want to know how much I hate mayonnaise. Trust me), fried spring rolls, fried cheese, cheese and crackers, veggies and dip, meat I couldn't make myself eat because I didn't know where it came from, and a whole mess of desserts. I had two beers, three pieces of cheese, veggies and dip, and one tiny fried spring roll. So, I knew I was still hungry.
7:30 I knew I was in trouble when I headed into my "make-up work" session. I grabbed an apple, a bottle of water, and headed for the lounge hoping to scoop some wifi and knock out some emails. What a mistake. It became social time as more and more people joined us, and while I loved it, after that day, it was hard not to have a couple more beers, snack on some calamari . . . oy.
Going into the second day, it got harder and harder to stare down the chips and candy bars, and I won some of the battles, but not all of them. And so I began to feel I was losing the war. That's the mentality I carried with me going into picking my friends and being in the mode to enjoy their visit and my time off. Do you see how a few pebbles can so easily become a landslide?
I feel like the J.K. Rowling quote becomes my life when I look at these patterns and what it will take to break them. "Constant Vigilance!"
So, I began calling myself out while my friends were here and mentioning why yes, I do very much want dessert, but I'm putting fruit on my fro yo. Or, I'm aiming for more vegetables today. Or, i really need to work some exercise in. Not perfect, but looking for that balance in enjoying myself and living life and also not going hog wild at the trough.
I hadn't really planned it this way, but when I made my appointment with the nutritionist I made it for 3 hours directly after leaving my friends (with lots of hugs, gratitude, and love) at the airport. It was kind of perfect. (it is moments like these that I really think things happen for a reason.
Several people commented, "After all of your self education about your medical conditions and carbs and food do you really think she can tel you anything you don't know?" I went in there with the attitude of, "For me to get better results, I have to consider that either I don't know everything or that I do know things but haven't been accountable to that knowledge." It was my plan to challenge this woman to give me my money's worth by helping me come up with some systems of accountability and some ways to really get the kind of results that are realistic but also keep me motivated. We worked very hard with a lot of information to plan what we felt was doable, what my body can handle without faking itself out, and what allows me to still live my life - a lifestyle that we had to frankly acknowledge does not make it easy for me to get big results.
I did hear a lot of things that were news to me, and I heard things that helped me or taught me something new. More on that in coming entries, but for now, a renewed sense of what I'm tackling, my goals, and a better map of how to walk that road.
Best of all, when she wanted to weigh me, we had a very hard discussion where I said, "I'm normally fine with stepping on the scale, but it's been a week of eating off of my plan and not exercising as much. I'm not sure I want to weigh today." she gently said, "We will have a much better idea of what is working if we can track the change on my scale each time you come in." Like the giant nerd that I am, I said, "I can get behind looking at the delta, not the number." As we walked over to the scale she said, "We're not going to marry this number, we're just going to meet it."I liked that. I'm not married to this number, I'm just using it for tracking purposes. I liked even better to find that I had only gained 2.5 pounds. I hate that I gained since my body is such a fighter when it comes to letting go of the weight, so I know mow much time it takes to take off 2.5 pounds. i like that my hard week doesn't mean I am a total failure or have completely backslid.
It's an important lesson to me - accountability is important, and something I continue to need to work towards, but life also happens and I need to know that not every week can be a perfect week. Better even than that, I need to plan that when things aren't perfect, I need to not let it continue to roll out of control. But, like many things, I can't see it clearly inside of it . . . what felt like certain doom to me, was actually 2.5 pounds and a roller-coaster week where what I saw was the cake, the waffles, the ravioli and risotto, the for yo, and the little tastes of chocolate. What I didn't account for was the best run of my life, a hike, a lot of "out-and-about" walking, and some choices that were amazing! I ate vegetables at the conference snack, not ice cream! I made sure we had three servings of vegetables at our dinner party!
So, I'm calling myself out for not logging my food last week, I'm calling myself out for not making time for myself at that conference, because really, 10 hours of work should've been enough so running and giving myself an hour was more than reasonable. I'm calling myself out for the things I ate that were just ridiculous. Not the ravioli. Not the risotto. But things like the fried spring roll and the candy bar. Just unnecessary. (Some of the other choices were good food, made in good ways, just food that happens to be a little carbier than is optimal on a regular basis. Fried food and processed candy, not so much.) But I'm also calling myself out for being so hard on myself that one error feels like the end, because that is likely where the crack in the foundation formed causing things to fall down a bit.
So, I'm back, and I'm ready to make the rest of this month be about what this should be about: accountability, and a goal to take care of myself, not to beat myself into the ground. Off to finish all of my doctor's appointments (I hope) for the rest of the year!
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Sunday, October 9, 2011
The importance of being LAZY
Laziness is the oft overlooked key to balance. Laziness allows people to rest, to process, and to enjoy one another. Laziness is one of my best skills, and the best way to spend three day weekends. Yet, laziness is the thing I tend to overlook when planning fun.
I once had an amazing vacation with a wonderfully good friend. Here is what we did: we met at my home in NJ and drove to the town 45 minutes outside of the lake area we would be staying at. We bought liquor and groceries. We each had packed games, books, and DVDs. We then continued driving, arriving at the vacation home we were borrowing. Here's what we did not do: plan anything beyond which groceries to purchase. What followed was an amazing week where I would wake up between 7 and 9am and read. He would wake up around 9-10am, making is way out to the great room some thirty minutes later. Without ever discussing it, it became our habit to play dominoes or SET (live, not online) while eating a simple breakfast of fruit, cereal and/or yogurt. Then he would go to read or nap while I went to swim or walk. I would arrive back at the house and quietly grab a snack, clean up, and sit out on the porch with a book or journal, sometimes doing nothing more interesting than staring at the leaves. Then we would reconvene (again, with no discussion or plan, just a natural sense of the rhythm) and drink, talk, cook dinner (generally LESS simple fare as we both were itching to cook for the other), and watch 2, or if it was a particularly ambitious evening, three movies while doing a few shots. There was a lot of deep discussion and a lot of laughter. It was one of the best respites of my life, and the time I felt closest to that friend. I have had wonderful vacations since then, but never have I felt that completely rested again.
Now, however, when people visit (or if I'm being very honest, in the 6 weeks before anyone visits; why yes, I am a type-A planner, thanks for asking.) I find myself making lists of where to eat, what to see, and what we will do. This visit, by two of my oldest and dearest friends, has been no exception. I wanted to hike, and that was thwarted, so we replaced that with happy-hour-hopping with one of my awesomest friends who is here in Boulder. We three planned a dinner party (which included lentil soup, kale salad, green beans with roasted garlic, homemade butternut squash ravioli with brown butter and sage sauce, a corn bread and rosemary encrusted pork loin, and a homemade apple cake . . . so, you know, a nice easy meal to prepare), made sure to see some of their family, some natural beauty, and some touristy wonders, and have gone for a run. Today was supposed to be another run, some time in town, and another dinner. This is similar to most of the time I have taken off in the last two years, whether it be for a visit to someone else, or the happy occasion of someone coming to visit me. Run around, eat, see this, see that, eat, see something else, do something cultural or touristy, eat again, get in some exercise, see or do something local, and did I mention eat?
It was kind of a relief when my best, best friend, and the only person to know me for so long that the time is measured in decades, not years, woke up and crawled into bed and said, "Maybe we could just skip the run and make a big breakfast instead." When I spend time with him and his husband, it is usually at their house and there is usually a great deal of cooking, but also a great deal of quiet, chilling out time. It's strange that I didn't think of that as part of the recipe when they were coming here. (Though of course, recipes and ingredients were key for the day o' cooking we had on Friday. and can be passed along to others by request.)
I don't advocate lying around and doing nothing if it means lapsing into a regular habit of failing to get things done at work, or in ones' personal life. It would be a bad result if this idea of needing to rest meant that the laundry never got done, or that colleagues at work felt I was unreliable. In my case, the greater danger is if laziness turns to inertia when it comes to exercise. That quickly leads to a lack of motivation to work on my fitness, and that quickly cascades into apathy about preparing food, which in turn triggers eating less healthy, which then makes it impossible to fight off the voices that call on me to eat things that are just ridiculous . . . whole boxes of Cheezits, three slices of cake, frozen pizzas, etc. But on the other hand, what I learned from the non-stop pace of September is that if there is no break, sooner or later, the system of working hard and working out hard gives way under the strain. Once the wheels come off the cart, it's impossible to steer it to a gentle stop.
It's hard to know what to do about this. Essentially what I'm saying is that I need to find balance within my approach to find balance. I need to locate the balance, but not lose perspective and homeostasis between rest and seeking as I look for the end point. I don't want to leave rest out of the picture, but I know that spending too much time inactive and without purpose is dangerous. So, as I seek the place where those pieces are all accounted for and snapped into the puzzle, I need to both work hard, and rest deeply.
It's hard to know how to get to a place you've never been to. I've never had a lifestyle that meant I could workout the 8-10 hours a week I need in order to lose weight, while also having the 2-5 hours a week for fresh food preparation, and being able to get 6-8 hours of sleep, some quiet time to just be, either with myself or with people who help me feel like my best self. I've never had that. In fact, I generally only have that for 3-6 days at a time when I visit these two friends in Boston.
It is a wonderful and lovely gift that they came here to visit me, and to see the life I have made for myself here, through a lot more hurdles than I bargained for when I first conceived of this move. It is even more significant that they brought with them, without perhaps knowing it, the very timely reminder that rest is not an indication that I'm not serious about my work, my endeavors to work on myself, or my life.
The trick of laziness for me, personally, is to be lazy enough to re-charge, but not so lazy that it becomes a slippery slope or a hole I feel I can't get out of. (Remember how tricky holes are for me?) The careful work of making lazy exist in correct proportion to fun and activity when creating good times with other people always involves two important things: communication and flexibility. I have the one in spades and pretend that that makes up for the dearth of the other (blush).
In fact, as I was writing the first draft of this post, we were all enjoying the post-waffle glow and slowly making our way through showers, second cups of coffee, checking email, and all the other hazy to-do items that are so much more pleasant when done slowly, among good company, and langourously. As I was typing, a voice piped up over the music and clack of keyboard saying, "Ummmm, so, are we taking a walk downtown? And are we still talking about a hike?" It was a reminder to me that while sitting around un-make-upped and deep in thought was perfect for me at 1pm, that for others, the lazy quota was full.
So, we did hike (finally! Redeemed from the thwarted hike of Thursday), saw great views of Boulder and of the Flatirons, and then headed downtown for some of what I think of as quintessential Boulder: Pearl Street Mall and dinner at Mountain Sun. Then finishing the day off with some self-serve frozen yogurt (which is fast becoming deeply associated with Boulder since we now have four of these locations, rivaling our number of Whole Foods groceries) (ummm, also, I know it's bad form to have two parenthesis, but I cannot mention Whole Foods without mentioning the totally brilliant youtube vid about the Whole Foods Parking lot. It really reaches it's apex when he rhymes "bra" with "quinoa." ), chat, and the bi-annual music exchange.
I say this whenever I am on vacay, but it really strikes me that when I walk more, eat less (but what I want), sleep enough, laugh more than enough, have a few drinks, and have positive human contact, life seems much more doable to me. I sometimes make pledges on vacation and say that I will find ways for there to be, "more gin! more pedicures!" and then it never works once I'm back in the thick of things. The pendulum swings hard to the right, and I become a worker bee. Then the pendulum swings far to the left, and I crash. Vacation, time with friends, that's the only middle ground. I also have the opportunity, as I happened this morning, to have this imbalance modulated not just by my own motivation, but by the needs, wants, and suggestions of others. So, my pledge is this, I will try to have some balance as I seek more balance so that there is laughter, sleep, and some time for laziness.
Thanks to my friends for coming, for loving me, for putting up with my ridiculous need to plan everything and the difficulty with which I part with those plans, and for understanding that I rarely find the middle ground between lazy and busy. It's quite something for the two of them to have known me this long and still like me this much . . . farewell, you two, see you for some more epic cooking and relaxation over New Years!
I once had an amazing vacation with a wonderfully good friend. Here is what we did: we met at my home in NJ and drove to the town 45 minutes outside of the lake area we would be staying at. We bought liquor and groceries. We each had packed games, books, and DVDs. We then continued driving, arriving at the vacation home we were borrowing. Here's what we did not do: plan anything beyond which groceries to purchase. What followed was an amazing week where I would wake up between 7 and 9am and read. He would wake up around 9-10am, making is way out to the great room some thirty minutes later. Without ever discussing it, it became our habit to play dominoes or SET (live, not online) while eating a simple breakfast of fruit, cereal and/or yogurt. Then he would go to read or nap while I went to swim or walk. I would arrive back at the house and quietly grab a snack, clean up, and sit out on the porch with a book or journal, sometimes doing nothing more interesting than staring at the leaves. Then we would reconvene (again, with no discussion or plan, just a natural sense of the rhythm) and drink, talk, cook dinner (generally LESS simple fare as we both were itching to cook for the other), and watch 2, or if it was a particularly ambitious evening, three movies while doing a few shots. There was a lot of deep discussion and a lot of laughter. It was one of the best respites of my life, and the time I felt closest to that friend. I have had wonderful vacations since then, but never have I felt that completely rested again.
Now, however, when people visit (or if I'm being very honest, in the 6 weeks before anyone visits; why yes, I am a type-A planner, thanks for asking.) I find myself making lists of where to eat, what to see, and what we will do. This visit, by two of my oldest and dearest friends, has been no exception. I wanted to hike, and that was thwarted, so we replaced that with happy-hour-hopping with one of my awesomest friends who is here in Boulder. We three planned a dinner party (which included lentil soup, kale salad, green beans with roasted garlic, homemade butternut squash ravioli with brown butter and sage sauce, a corn bread and rosemary encrusted pork loin, and a homemade apple cake . . . so, you know, a nice easy meal to prepare), made sure to see some of their family, some natural beauty, and some touristy wonders, and have gone for a run. Today was supposed to be another run, some time in town, and another dinner. This is similar to most of the time I have taken off in the last two years, whether it be for a visit to someone else, or the happy occasion of someone coming to visit me. Run around, eat, see this, see that, eat, see something else, do something cultural or touristy, eat again, get in some exercise, see or do something local, and did I mention eat?
It was kind of a relief when my best, best friend, and the only person to know me for so long that the time is measured in decades, not years, woke up and crawled into bed and said, "Maybe we could just skip the run and make a big breakfast instead." When I spend time with him and his husband, it is usually at their house and there is usually a great deal of cooking, but also a great deal of quiet, chilling out time. It's strange that I didn't think of that as part of the recipe when they were coming here. (Though of course, recipes and ingredients were key for the day o' cooking we had on Friday. and can be passed along to others by request.)
I don't advocate lying around and doing nothing if it means lapsing into a regular habit of failing to get things done at work, or in ones' personal life. It would be a bad result if this idea of needing to rest meant that the laundry never got done, or that colleagues at work felt I was unreliable. In my case, the greater danger is if laziness turns to inertia when it comes to exercise. That quickly leads to a lack of motivation to work on my fitness, and that quickly cascades into apathy about preparing food, which in turn triggers eating less healthy, which then makes it impossible to fight off the voices that call on me to eat things that are just ridiculous . . . whole boxes of Cheezits, three slices of cake, frozen pizzas, etc. But on the other hand, what I learned from the non-stop pace of September is that if there is no break, sooner or later, the system of working hard and working out hard gives way under the strain. Once the wheels come off the cart, it's impossible to steer it to a gentle stop.
It's hard to know what to do about this. Essentially what I'm saying is that I need to find balance within my approach to find balance. I need to locate the balance, but not lose perspective and homeostasis between rest and seeking as I look for the end point. I don't want to leave rest out of the picture, but I know that spending too much time inactive and without purpose is dangerous. So, as I seek the place where those pieces are all accounted for and snapped into the puzzle, I need to both work hard, and rest deeply.
It's hard to know how to get to a place you've never been to. I've never had a lifestyle that meant I could workout the 8-10 hours a week I need in order to lose weight, while also having the 2-5 hours a week for fresh food preparation, and being able to get 6-8 hours of sleep, some quiet time to just be, either with myself or with people who help me feel like my best self. I've never had that. In fact, I generally only have that for 3-6 days at a time when I visit these two friends in Boston.
It is a wonderful and lovely gift that they came here to visit me, and to see the life I have made for myself here, through a lot more hurdles than I bargained for when I first conceived of this move. It is even more significant that they brought with them, without perhaps knowing it, the very timely reminder that rest is not an indication that I'm not serious about my work, my endeavors to work on myself, or my life.
The trick of laziness for me, personally, is to be lazy enough to re-charge, but not so lazy that it becomes a slippery slope or a hole I feel I can't get out of. (Remember how tricky holes are for me?) The careful work of making lazy exist in correct proportion to fun and activity when creating good times with other people always involves two important things: communication and flexibility. I have the one in spades and pretend that that makes up for the dearth of the other (blush).
In fact, as I was writing the first draft of this post, we were all enjoying the post-waffle glow and slowly making our way through showers, second cups of coffee, checking email, and all the other hazy to-do items that are so much more pleasant when done slowly, among good company, and langourously. As I was typing, a voice piped up over the music and clack of keyboard saying, "Ummmm, so, are we taking a walk downtown? And are we still talking about a hike?" It was a reminder to me that while sitting around un-make-upped and deep in thought was perfect for me at 1pm, that for others, the lazy quota was full.
So, we did hike (finally! Redeemed from the thwarted hike of Thursday), saw great views of Boulder and of the Flatirons, and then headed downtown for some of what I think of as quintessential Boulder: Pearl Street Mall and dinner at Mountain Sun. Then finishing the day off with some self-serve frozen yogurt (which is fast becoming deeply associated with Boulder since we now have four of these locations, rivaling our number of Whole Foods groceries) (ummm, also, I know it's bad form to have two parenthesis, but I cannot mention Whole Foods without mentioning the totally brilliant youtube vid about the Whole Foods Parking lot. It really reaches it's apex when he rhymes "bra" with "quinoa." ), chat, and the bi-annual music exchange.
I say this whenever I am on vacay, but it really strikes me that when I walk more, eat less (but what I want), sleep enough, laugh more than enough, have a few drinks, and have positive human contact, life seems much more doable to me. I sometimes make pledges on vacation and say that I will find ways for there to be, "more gin! more pedicures!" and then it never works once I'm back in the thick of things. The pendulum swings hard to the right, and I become a worker bee. Then the pendulum swings far to the left, and I crash. Vacation, time with friends, that's the only middle ground. I also have the opportunity, as I happened this morning, to have this imbalance modulated not just by my own motivation, but by the needs, wants, and suggestions of others. So, my pledge is this, I will try to have some balance as I seek more balance so that there is laughter, sleep, and some time for laziness.
Thanks to my friends for coming, for loving me, for putting up with my ridiculous need to plan everything and the difficulty with which I part with those plans, and for understanding that I rarely find the middle ground between lazy and busy. It's quite something for the two of them to have known me this long and still like me this much . . . farewell, you two, see you for some more epic cooking and relaxation over New Years!
Friday, October 7, 2011
Run your own race
I heard this phrase in a workshop this week. The workshop was rife with platitudes, but also opportunities to get different perspective or consider new strategies, so to this particular phrase, I worked really hard not to roll my eyes.
I found myself today, with real reason to think of it. After being on the road non stop for work, then away and in this workshop for two long days, and then vacationing with friends, we decided today was the day to head out for a run. I told them about some of the outdoor running I had done, and nearby parks, but we also noticed that there was a very handy grid of roads around my condo that make a near perfect 2.5 mile square starting and ending at my door.
It's not like I hadn't thought of road running before. After all, this is Boulder. I see more people on bikes and running in my neighborhood than I see prairie dogs, and given the prairie dog preserve I live across from, there are a lot of prairie dogs! But, I've been intimidated to road-run before. It seemed much easier to hide my inadequacies in a nice private part of a park, or even better, on the lone treadmill in the much neglected work-out room in my development. Also, in the past distances were an issue for me, But now I am regularly completing 2-3 mile running "assignments." One excuse down.
The other thing is, I don't run continuously. My trainer and I are on a strict program of me running intervals. We work hard to make my running intervals longer and my rest intervals shorter, but I don't bust out 2 miles non-stop. I definitely feel like this excludes me from the club of real "runners" that I am surrounded by in this part of the country.
Finally, I'm not all that fast or super-fit looking, so running where people can see me does make me a little insecure. what this has resulted in is me often running in a very isolated and boring way, aka the treadmill. I don't get wind on my face, good scenery, or the feeling of forward motion, but I do get to carefully calculate my times, and run in a way where few people see or scrutinize what I'm doing.
Today, my friends and I had decided, was a day for being more healthy, so we headed out with lots of "I've been researching non-stop for a month, so I won't keep up," and "I only do 10 minute miles at my best and with the altitude . . ." type comments as disclaimers about nobody needing to keep up with or hold back for any one else. Still, I knew that I would be arriving back at my own house, after my very own sea-level guests. No matter how long it had been since they ran, or the adjustment to the altitude, I knew. Because, fundamentally, although I am someone who runs, I am not a runner. And there is a difference.
It was hard when within 5 minutes both of them were more than a quarter mile ahead of me, but I had to tell myself, "This is your first road run in, ummmmm, ever."
Then they were both a half mile ahead. It's hard to not be "in the pack" but I can only do what I can do. I reminded myself that I have short legs and what I can churn out is just different. Forget the knees, my bad feet, the asthma. Even if all of that was magically erased, as someone who stands "5'2 on a good day!" having my pace match that of someone a foot taller is unlikely.
Finally, after about 10 minutes, I just settled into my running assignment, which is actually a discovery assignment. (I love these because I get to be scientist studying myself and seeing what happens) No intervals set for me, just a run this amount, break it up how you need to, and see how long you can run for, how many intervals, and how long it takes you assignment. I had to run my own race, and make the run about me getting done what I needed to get done.
What came of that is that in the same amount of time i took to run 2 miles last week (at 10 at night) I ran 2.5 miles today. Outside. On the road. and I ran my longest distance without stopping yet! My competitive nature made me feel a little . . . disappointed when I returned home to find my two best friends already lounging and recovering, but if I can be competitive with myself, well that gets the job done much better. 2.5 miles! 28 minutes!
I also realized a few things on this run:
So, while it may get me better results to run on a treadmill right now, it may also be keeping me from having better experiences running. Hmmmm. I probably need to plan some more outdoor runs before the weather turns bad. Which, in Colorado probably means I have about 6 day. Ha! See you out on the road!
I found myself today, with real reason to think of it. After being on the road non stop for work, then away and in this workshop for two long days, and then vacationing with friends, we decided today was the day to head out for a run. I told them about some of the outdoor running I had done, and nearby parks, but we also noticed that there was a very handy grid of roads around my condo that make a near perfect 2.5 mile square starting and ending at my door.
It's not like I hadn't thought of road running before. After all, this is Boulder. I see more people on bikes and running in my neighborhood than I see prairie dogs, and given the prairie dog preserve I live across from, there are a lot of prairie dogs! But, I've been intimidated to road-run before. It seemed much easier to hide my inadequacies in a nice private part of a park, or even better, on the lone treadmill in the much neglected work-out room in my development. Also, in the past distances were an issue for me, But now I am regularly completing 2-3 mile running "assignments." One excuse down.
The other thing is, I don't run continuously. My trainer and I are on a strict program of me running intervals. We work hard to make my running intervals longer and my rest intervals shorter, but I don't bust out 2 miles non-stop. I definitely feel like this excludes me from the club of real "runners" that I am surrounded by in this part of the country.
Finally, I'm not all that fast or super-fit looking, so running where people can see me does make me a little insecure. what this has resulted in is me often running in a very isolated and boring way, aka the treadmill. I don't get wind on my face, good scenery, or the feeling of forward motion, but I do get to carefully calculate my times, and run in a way where few people see or scrutinize what I'm doing.
Today, my friends and I had decided, was a day for being more healthy, so we headed out with lots of "I've been researching non-stop for a month, so I won't keep up," and "I only do 10 minute miles at my best and with the altitude . . ." type comments as disclaimers about nobody needing to keep up with or hold back for any one else. Still, I knew that I would be arriving back at my own house, after my very own sea-level guests. No matter how long it had been since they ran, or the adjustment to the altitude, I knew. Because, fundamentally, although I am someone who runs, I am not a runner. And there is a difference.
It was hard when within 5 minutes both of them were more than a quarter mile ahead of me, but I had to tell myself, "This is your first road run in, ummmmm, ever."
Then they were both a half mile ahead. It's hard to not be "in the pack" but I can only do what I can do. I reminded myself that I have short legs and what I can churn out is just different. Forget the knees, my bad feet, the asthma. Even if all of that was magically erased, as someone who stands "5'2 on a good day!" having my pace match that of someone a foot taller is unlikely.
Finally, after about 10 minutes, I just settled into my running assignment, which is actually a discovery assignment. (I love these because I get to be scientist studying myself and seeing what happens) No intervals set for me, just a run this amount, break it up how you need to, and see how long you can run for, how many intervals, and how long it takes you assignment. I had to run my own race, and make the run about me getting done what I needed to get done.
What came of that is that in the same amount of time i took to run 2 miles last week (at 10 at night) I ran 2.5 miles today. Outside. On the road. and I ran my longest distance without stopping yet! My competitive nature made me feel a little . . . disappointed when I returned home to find my two best friends already lounging and recovering, but if I can be competitive with myself, well that gets the job done much better. 2.5 miles! 28 minutes!
I also realized a few things on this run:
- running outside during nice weather is infinitely more enjoyable than running on a treadmill. I never thought about quitting, was not aware of muttering to myself like a crazy person, nor did I have to use the zombie-trick to stay motivated
- Running into the wind is hard
- Timing my breathing is harder on the road
- My feet, hands, and shoulders like running outside more
- My back likes treadmill running better
- Not having a clock keeping track actually made me push myself harder
So, while it may get me better results to run on a treadmill right now, it may also be keeping me from having better experiences running. Hmmmm. I probably need to plan some more outdoor runs before the weather turns bad. Which, in Colorado probably means I have about 6 day. Ha! See you out on the road!
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Inspiration
The importance of inspiration was never more clear to me than last year. I made it through my knee surgery, the physical therapy, and I finished my 365 photography project, kept up with work while taking only two weeks off, and and turned things into my writing group. After all of that, I. Was. Tiiiiiiirrrred.
I started another 365 self-portrait year right away, and found that it was actually really really hard to keep taking interesting pictures just then. I took a sabbatical from my writing group because all of a sudden the creek was dry. I was struggling at work too, feeling that the things I was doing were sub-par and not very meaningful. Most pressingly, I found myself feeling the effects of not having been able to exercise fully for a year, and it depressed me. It made it hard to exercise. I felt slow, and uncreative, and inarticulate, and I felt hopeless about my body and powerless to fix it. I got into a rut, and it was so hard to get out of it. I had many, many weeks of paying my trainer and then not doing the workout he sent me home with.
I looked for inspiration for a long, long time. I wasn't unaware that I needed to exercise. I wasn't unaware that I needed to find my mojo again. I just didn't know where to look.
I posted notes around the house for myself saying things like, "It will feel good after you go," or "This appointment is as important as any other you make." I watched the weight loss shows and told myself, "If people who weight 500 pounds can do it, you can get your ass off the couch." I looked for classes that would get me excited about exercising. I read books about getting into the groove of writing. I tried shooting other things with my really fancy camera. Nothing.
So, I did a few things. I forgave myself for starting a 365 I didn't finish, and for not having any writing for my group. I took a vacation. And then, when I came back, I just made myself start exercising even though it wasn't and still isn't the thing that feels most fun to me most days. (I actually went running a lot on vacation, and I remember the running "assignment" I took with me and how hard it was to get it done, even with three weeks to do it and how much it pained me to not master it. So when I returned I started making exercise a big priority in my weekly schedule.)
A friend started sharing her results on the eating plan I tried to make work for me. She had lost more than 50 pounds. for the first time in a long time, I felt really excited to work on myself. And as you can see, it made me find something inside worth writing about. I changed my eating and I kept working out, and as I started losing weight, it became more interesting to me to keep working on these things. As my friend continued to lose a lot of weight, and share her process with me, I did get inspired. I measure inspiration by how excited I am to do things I that would normally make me want to burn my eyebrows off. In other words, if I am inspired, I see things differently and delayed gratification is ok.
Inspiration wasn't a flash that hit me all at once, it was a slow process of realizing that feeling better about myself was worth it to keep trying. And I still have to dig down deep to find it a lot of days. I still have days where working out is the last thing I want to do, and eating a pizza is on the top of the list. But inspiration for me means having the presence to question that and work on other habits. I'm still not finishing any of my poems or other creative writing projects. My writing is pretty much confined to work reports and this blog for now (though I have half ideas for a children's book and may write more about that in another post). I'm still wondering if I have the commitment and creativity to do another 365, so my camera is just a sometimes habit for me right now.
With all of these potholes in the road I'm on it shocks me when people tell me I'm inspiring them. It humbles me. It scares me. It makes me want to be more accountable. It feels like a gift. When friends tell me that they are journaling, that they are thinking about different things, that they are running or walking, it makes me think more about my choices, about my writing, about what I'm putting out there when I talk about the work I'm doing to find better ways to be me. It makes me think this blog is doing what I hoped it would - keeping me aimed at working on these things and thinking about what is working and what is not, but also letting me connect with others. I don't do well when isolated; it's so much better when I have opportunities to teach and learn and let the thoughts out of my head that would otherwise cycle around not really going anywhere. When I can say it out loud, or write it out, I'm forced to hear the things those words are telling me on the inside and make sense of them.
So, I want to thank some of the people that inspire me. I am inspired by my brother who has never, ever looked at anything athletic and said, "I can't do that." He just DOES it. I am impressed beyond words by my friends who keep doing 365 projects, and one in particular who just reached his 1000th consecutive day of self-portraits. His steadfastness and determination are astonishing, but he is also an impressively gorgeous photographer. I am inspired by realizing that I have friends in wheelchairs who probably wish they had the privilege to have foot cramps during a run. I am inspired by remembering myself a year ago, and all the things I couldn't do, and all the time I had already spent not being able to do things and feeling limited. I am inspired by my friend who started a blog a couple of months before me. Even though she chose to end her blog and give that time back to her family, her courageous writing, humor, and honesty showed me that blogging could be serious writing but also have a lot of self and heart. I am also inspired by another acquaintance who continues to blog and has made the courageous choice to move his family to follow his wife's career and be a stay-at-home dad for now. That shouldn't be such a remarkable set of choices, but it is, and so those choices move me; and his writing, by the way, is hilarious. I have a friend who has six kids. I knew her and babysat for them when there were half as many children, and her grace, presence, and faith are constant reminders of a place I want to achieve. She also recently decided that in addition to running her own business and raising six children she should start training and running - wow! I am I am inspired by this little girl, and the grace with which she grows past her health challenges. I'm inspired by her parents, who went through the pregnancy under a death sentence for this baby and were rewarded in the end with a different answer and hope to learn and grow with her. I am inspired by the people in my life battling addiction, and finding the courage to be more honest than their addictions have allowed them to be in the past. Even when I am angry and hurt and disappointed, I admire so much my boyfriend for his ability to accept people for what they are, to be humble and loving, and to forgive. I am moved beyond words by my friend and her journey as a wonderful mom to her two boys. She has faced down more demons and disappointments than I can fathom, and somehow keeps a smile on her face and a lightness in her heart whenever we interact, and still has enough left over to reach out to me with sincere concern and advice. Its amazing an heartwarming, and it is clear to me that she has amazing challenges and amazing gifts, and revels in them daily.
And on a regular basis, when I get in the pool with my good friend, I remember three years ago when I had spotted her working out with my trainer and that was all I knew about her. I remember finding myself on a treadmill next to her a few months later, and trying to think how to start a conversation with her without it being an awkward, "Soooo, you work out with Nick too?" kind of interjection. And once we started talking, I wondered why I had ever worried. She is warm, approachable, and funny. As we saw each other more and more at "the changing of the guard" (the point at the end of her workout when I would arrive and be stretching and she would be finishing up) we enjoyed each others company more and more. We worked out together a couple of times, and when I heard about her duathalon, I was so inspired and excited that I said, "Wow, you should do a tri next year!" She quietly said, "Oh, no, I don't swim."
I said, "What do you mean?" It was hard for me to process this, not just because I love to swim so much, but because she is so incredibly strong and fit. I had heard how she decided to conquer her issue with heights by jumping out of a plane, and was so impressed by how she identified something that was holding her back and sought out a way to dominate it. So, we talked about it and I just casually said, "Well, if you ever want to swim with me, let me know." She vehemently shook her head. and I thought that was that.
So, a few months later when she approached me and said, almost shyly (for her), "I'm signed up for a class. A beginning swimming class. After I'm done can I swim with you and get some pointers?" I was so excited (and impressed with her courage). She had learned a lot in her class, but we started from the basics. Here was a woman who had gone through decades of her life not wanting to get in the water and having had traumatic experiences with water getting into the pool with me. She went from being her usual bubbly, goofy self to being defensive and guarded, so I knew she was really feeling a lot of fear. We started not being able to make it across the pool, and within a week had two strokes that she could swim to make to from wall to wall. Now, 7 months later, she got in the pool, swam 300 meters, and 100 of it was the stroke she least likes and feels the least confident in. It reminds me that at all times in life, people can choose to change, and grow and take on new challenges. She keeps on thanking me for my help, but I don't think she realizes how much she inspires me. She gets in that water every time feeling concerned and unsure, and does real laps and makes real leaps in her ability every time. This weekend, she said, "That's all? Can I do more?" This would have been unthinkable even 2 months ago, and 7 months ago she was PISSED when I even suggested she do the stroke she most struggles with.
I feel proud to have been able to be a part of this transformation, but I also feel lucky to get this boost every time we swim. She doesn't understand how much she gives to me. I need inspiration, because like I said, I don't get hit with inspiration in the religious sense. I don't wake up and feel it in my marrow, at least not right now. I need to locate it every day, and some days I have to look deeper under the bed than others. Some days I don't find it at all, but just make myself do it anyways.
I hope over time that inspiration and belief will stick a little closer to me. I hope that I will keep finding sources and reminders of inspiration. I hope that the creek will fill up again and I will relocate my creativity. But for now, it's enough to know I have enough people and things to point to that keep me going. Thank you to those people who give me every day reminders. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
I started another 365 self-portrait year right away, and found that it was actually really really hard to keep taking interesting pictures just then. I took a sabbatical from my writing group because all of a sudden the creek was dry. I was struggling at work too, feeling that the things I was doing were sub-par and not very meaningful. Most pressingly, I found myself feeling the effects of not having been able to exercise fully for a year, and it depressed me. It made it hard to exercise. I felt slow, and uncreative, and inarticulate, and I felt hopeless about my body and powerless to fix it. I got into a rut, and it was so hard to get out of it. I had many, many weeks of paying my trainer and then not doing the workout he sent me home with.
I looked for inspiration for a long, long time. I wasn't unaware that I needed to exercise. I wasn't unaware that I needed to find my mojo again. I just didn't know where to look.
I posted notes around the house for myself saying things like, "It will feel good after you go," or "This appointment is as important as any other you make." I watched the weight loss shows and told myself, "If people who weight 500 pounds can do it, you can get your ass off the couch." I looked for classes that would get me excited about exercising. I read books about getting into the groove of writing. I tried shooting other things with my really fancy camera. Nothing.
So, I did a few things. I forgave myself for starting a 365 I didn't finish, and for not having any writing for my group. I took a vacation. And then, when I came back, I just made myself start exercising even though it wasn't and still isn't the thing that feels most fun to me most days. (I actually went running a lot on vacation, and I remember the running "assignment" I took with me and how hard it was to get it done, even with three weeks to do it and how much it pained me to not master it. So when I returned I started making exercise a big priority in my weekly schedule.)
A friend started sharing her results on the eating plan I tried to make work for me. She had lost more than 50 pounds. for the first time in a long time, I felt really excited to work on myself. And as you can see, it made me find something inside worth writing about. I changed my eating and I kept working out, and as I started losing weight, it became more interesting to me to keep working on these things. As my friend continued to lose a lot of weight, and share her process with me, I did get inspired. I measure inspiration by how excited I am to do things I that would normally make me want to burn my eyebrows off. In other words, if I am inspired, I see things differently and delayed gratification is ok.
Inspiration wasn't a flash that hit me all at once, it was a slow process of realizing that feeling better about myself was worth it to keep trying. And I still have to dig down deep to find it a lot of days. I still have days where working out is the last thing I want to do, and eating a pizza is on the top of the list. But inspiration for me means having the presence to question that and work on other habits. I'm still not finishing any of my poems or other creative writing projects. My writing is pretty much confined to work reports and this blog for now (though I have half ideas for a children's book and may write more about that in another post). I'm still wondering if I have the commitment and creativity to do another 365, so my camera is just a sometimes habit for me right now.
With all of these potholes in the road I'm on it shocks me when people tell me I'm inspiring them. It humbles me. It scares me. It makes me want to be more accountable. It feels like a gift. When friends tell me that they are journaling, that they are thinking about different things, that they are running or walking, it makes me think more about my choices, about my writing, about what I'm putting out there when I talk about the work I'm doing to find better ways to be me. It makes me think this blog is doing what I hoped it would - keeping me aimed at working on these things and thinking about what is working and what is not, but also letting me connect with others. I don't do well when isolated; it's so much better when I have opportunities to teach and learn and let the thoughts out of my head that would otherwise cycle around not really going anywhere. When I can say it out loud, or write it out, I'm forced to hear the things those words are telling me on the inside and make sense of them.
So, I want to thank some of the people that inspire me. I am inspired by my brother who has never, ever looked at anything athletic and said, "I can't do that." He just DOES it. I am impressed beyond words by my friends who keep doing 365 projects, and one in particular who just reached his 1000th consecutive day of self-portraits. His steadfastness and determination are astonishing, but he is also an impressively gorgeous photographer. I am inspired by realizing that I have friends in wheelchairs who probably wish they had the privilege to have foot cramps during a run. I am inspired by remembering myself a year ago, and all the things I couldn't do, and all the time I had already spent not being able to do things and feeling limited. I am inspired by my friend who started a blog a couple of months before me. Even though she chose to end her blog and give that time back to her family, her courageous writing, humor, and honesty showed me that blogging could be serious writing but also have a lot of self and heart. I am also inspired by another acquaintance who continues to blog and has made the courageous choice to move his family to follow his wife's career and be a stay-at-home dad for now. That shouldn't be such a remarkable set of choices, but it is, and so those choices move me; and his writing, by the way, is hilarious. I have a friend who has six kids. I knew her and babysat for them when there were half as many children, and her grace, presence, and faith are constant reminders of a place I want to achieve. She also recently decided that in addition to running her own business and raising six children she should start training and running - wow! I am I am inspired by this little girl, and the grace with which she grows past her health challenges. I'm inspired by her parents, who went through the pregnancy under a death sentence for this baby and were rewarded in the end with a different answer and hope to learn and grow with her. I am inspired by the people in my life battling addiction, and finding the courage to be more honest than their addictions have allowed them to be in the past. Even when I am angry and hurt and disappointed, I admire so much my boyfriend for his ability to accept people for what they are, to be humble and loving, and to forgive. I am moved beyond words by my friend and her journey as a wonderful mom to her two boys. She has faced down more demons and disappointments than I can fathom, and somehow keeps a smile on her face and a lightness in her heart whenever we interact, and still has enough left over to reach out to me with sincere concern and advice. Its amazing an heartwarming, and it is clear to me that she has amazing challenges and amazing gifts, and revels in them daily.
And on a regular basis, when I get in the pool with my good friend, I remember three years ago when I had spotted her working out with my trainer and that was all I knew about her. I remember finding myself on a treadmill next to her a few months later, and trying to think how to start a conversation with her without it being an awkward, "Soooo, you work out with Nick too?" kind of interjection. And once we started talking, I wondered why I had ever worried. She is warm, approachable, and funny. As we saw each other more and more at "the changing of the guard" (the point at the end of her workout when I would arrive and be stretching and she would be finishing up) we enjoyed each others company more and more. We worked out together a couple of times, and when I heard about her duathalon, I was so inspired and excited that I said, "Wow, you should do a tri next year!" She quietly said, "Oh, no, I don't swim."
I said, "What do you mean?" It was hard for me to process this, not just because I love to swim so much, but because she is so incredibly strong and fit. I had heard how she decided to conquer her issue with heights by jumping out of a plane, and was so impressed by how she identified something that was holding her back and sought out a way to dominate it. So, we talked about it and I just casually said, "Well, if you ever want to swim with me, let me know." She vehemently shook her head. and I thought that was that.
So, a few months later when she approached me and said, almost shyly (for her), "I'm signed up for a class. A beginning swimming class. After I'm done can I swim with you and get some pointers?" I was so excited (and impressed with her courage). She had learned a lot in her class, but we started from the basics. Here was a woman who had gone through decades of her life not wanting to get in the water and having had traumatic experiences with water getting into the pool with me. She went from being her usual bubbly, goofy self to being defensive and guarded, so I knew she was really feeling a lot of fear. We started not being able to make it across the pool, and within a week had two strokes that she could swim to make to from wall to wall. Now, 7 months later, she got in the pool, swam 300 meters, and 100 of it was the stroke she least likes and feels the least confident in. It reminds me that at all times in life, people can choose to change, and grow and take on new challenges. She keeps on thanking me for my help, but I don't think she realizes how much she inspires me. She gets in that water every time feeling concerned and unsure, and does real laps and makes real leaps in her ability every time. This weekend, she said, "That's all? Can I do more?" This would have been unthinkable even 2 months ago, and 7 months ago she was PISSED when I even suggested she do the stroke she most struggles with.
I feel proud to have been able to be a part of this transformation, but I also feel lucky to get this boost every time we swim. She doesn't understand how much she gives to me. I need inspiration, because like I said, I don't get hit with inspiration in the religious sense. I don't wake up and feel it in my marrow, at least not right now. I need to locate it every day, and some days I have to look deeper under the bed than others. Some days I don't find it at all, but just make myself do it anyways.
I hope over time that inspiration and belief will stick a little closer to me. I hope that I will keep finding sources and reminders of inspiration. I hope that the creek will fill up again and I will relocate my creativity. But for now, it's enough to know I have enough people and things to point to that keep me going. Thank you to those people who give me every day reminders. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Who are these people, and what are they doing at my gym at 10 pm?
As I'm sure I've made everyone painfully aware of at this point, running is not my fave. In truth, it's not just running because there are a lot of weeks where the workouts my trainer gives me are not my favorite. Sometimes they're exciting, but sometimes not so much. (Like this week, where I am doing a lot of movements with weights that kind of cause me to freak out, and then psych myself out a little bit. I guess that is exciting, but not in a happy way.)
What are my favorites? Swimming. Walking. Those are things I'm good at and can do and feel real accomplishment moving in to take the place of the stress that is leaving me. I also miss the adrenaline of kickboxing, though I was never really, aweseomely skilled at it.
So, running and lifting can be challenging for me in the best of weeks. Getting to the gym is half of the battle because it means I've won the mental struggle saying, "Wouldn't you prefer to read a nice book instead?." Why yes, I would, damnit (and I have a stack of good ones just waiting for me), but that will not help me feel better in my clothes, or in my skin.
I belong to a gym that stays open 24-7. When I joined it was because of the convenience of location, the decent price, and the plethora of cardio machines; not because I envisioned myself working out at all hours of the night. In fact, I thought, "Oh, I'll never work out that late." Ohhhhhh how foolish of me. It's like I blocked out the fact that two months out of the year I log a minimum of 55 hours of work per week. It's also pretty common for me to eat dinner after 9pm at least 2 nights a week even when it's not "the busy season". Wake up, Christie, your job is insane. Seriously working out seriously means working out at some pretty weird hours and that has been true for the 5+ years you've had this job.
This month has been a tough one at work. I have had exactly three work days where I wasn't on the road driving from center to center in Colorado, and two of those days were because I flew out and was visiting two centers in Utah. If you're wondering, no, I don't have to do less paperwork when I'm on the road this much. In fact, I have more because each visit has an equal and opposite follow up report. I just end up working more and more hours at times like this, while still getting more and more behind on office tasks. (Maybe you weren't wondering but obviously I needed to vent that thought anyways. ) So, it's actually kind of amazing that so far this month, I have not had to use the late-night gym drop-in. Until tonight.
It was a long-ass day. And all day long I had to keep on reminding myself, "You still have to fit in some quality sweaty time!" A little personal pre-frame. You will go running. Yep, it'll be late, but that run will happen. I left the house at 8:30 am with a stuffed messenger bag with my computer and some of what I call, "bringing the office on my back." I had a second messenger bag full of copies for meetings and presentations I was leading today. This was joined by a 94 ounces of water, and a ziploc full of snacks. My purse, of course (and yep, I still have that tiny-deodarant in there) and my gym bag. I had a meeting, some lunch (not the healthiest choice, but some real protein and veggies) drove an hour, and then found myself with 45 minutes to kill. So, I grabbed some caffeine and free wi-fi about a block from the place where I was going to be giving back-to-back presentations. In the block drive from the coffee shop to the center I knew something was off but not until I parked and started to haul things out of my car was it clear that I had a flat tire. Ugh. That was about hour 11 of my 14 hour day. And I knew there were still two hours of presenting and 60-90 minutes of driving home if only the tire could be changed. No matter - one brief and bad phone-under-running-water moment and visit from the friendly neighborhood AAA burly man and two presentations later I was back on the road and pulling into the gym parking lot at just before 10 pm.
I'm not saying this to pat myself on the back, but it's fricken hard to make yourself drive to the gym and not directly home after working that long. I fight with myself about getting my workouts done all the time, but the voices entreating me to go home and get comfy are much more insistent after working for more than 12 hours straight. The flat tire alone and the stress of that made me long for my bed and a way to shut the book on this day. But I did it, grudgingly. I seriously couldn't even get into thinking about zombies as motivation for my treadmill time. But I also couldn't hold meetings about results and give presentations about accountability and then drive home and not put my time in. I heard myself say to someone today, "The time will pass either way, it's a choice of whether or not the family chooses to use it making things better or staying the same." That statement applies to me too - the day, week, month and year will go by no matter what I do or don't do; it's my choice whether or not to use it to get healthier and achieve some of my goals.
So, there I was, 10 pm, suiting up for a run that I absolutely, positively did not want to do. But a funny thing happened. Once I won the internal battle to get out of my car and go inside the gym, getting on the treadmill and running wasn't as hard as it sometimes is at much more reasonable times of the day. It was as if something deep inside me, something quiet and subconscious was saying, "you already did a 14 hour day, a stressful phone moment, a flat tire, and meetings and presentations. Of course you can run for 30 minutes. " So, I ran. I didn't jog, I ran. I ran above 5.5 most of the time, and where my longest interval of running before had been 5 minutes, I ran for 7 minutes for my first interval and for 5 minutes for my second interval. I sprinted at 6.2 and above. I finished my "assignment" of running 2 miles with 2.5 minutes to spare on the time I was supposed to be keeping. I kept all of my rests (otherwise known as walking) to three minutes or less. I exceeded my required mileage by a quarter mile. What the WHAT?!
If running keeps going this well I will have to give up my fun habit of making jokes about running and zombies. Hmmmmm. That would be too sad since I've held out for a year and I am a mere two weeks away from zombie season! (aiiiiiiieeeee!!!!) While I ponder that, let me say this: I was not alone at the gym at 10pm.
There were 5 other people on treadmills, 2 on stairmasters, and 2 on ellipticals. Apparently stationary bikes and rowing are just not cool after sundown, but I can report that there were two women dealing with bathing suits in the dressing room at 10:45 pm suggesting that swimming is a fine exercise choice in the dark of the night. Who are these people? Parents who can only work out at weird times? Students who are over-committed? Insomniacs? People like me whose jobs don't allow them to have a life?
From outside appearances, those people are me. They were there reading paperwork on the stairmaster. They were there with their cell phone in the drink holder. They were 30-somethings and most of them had some extra fluff and the grim look of, "I have to do this no matter what." They are my people.I joined them proudly with my iPhone-as-iPod (thank god it did not get drowned in that sink-mishap) and a run that I did mostly with my eyes closed because watching the clock inch towards 11pm while I was on a treadmill instead of tucked in bed with a book was a little horrifying.
I might have to go back late at night sometime and see if this magic late-night run effect can be reproduced. But in the meantime, it's very important that I sleep.
What are my favorites? Swimming. Walking. Those are things I'm good at and can do and feel real accomplishment moving in to take the place of the stress that is leaving me. I also miss the adrenaline of kickboxing, though I was never really, aweseomely skilled at it.
So, running and lifting can be challenging for me in the best of weeks. Getting to the gym is half of the battle because it means I've won the mental struggle saying, "Wouldn't you prefer to read a nice book instead?." Why yes, I would, damnit (and I have a stack of good ones just waiting for me), but that will not help me feel better in my clothes, or in my skin.
I belong to a gym that stays open 24-7. When I joined it was because of the convenience of location, the decent price, and the plethora of cardio machines; not because I envisioned myself working out at all hours of the night. In fact, I thought, "Oh, I'll never work out that late." Ohhhhhh how foolish of me. It's like I blocked out the fact that two months out of the year I log a minimum of 55 hours of work per week. It's also pretty common for me to eat dinner after 9pm at least 2 nights a week even when it's not "the busy season". Wake up, Christie, your job is insane. Seriously working out seriously means working out at some pretty weird hours and that has been true for the 5+ years you've had this job.
This month has been a tough one at work. I have had exactly three work days where I wasn't on the road driving from center to center in Colorado, and two of those days were because I flew out and was visiting two centers in Utah. If you're wondering, no, I don't have to do less paperwork when I'm on the road this much. In fact, I have more because each visit has an equal and opposite follow up report. I just end up working more and more hours at times like this, while still getting more and more behind on office tasks. (Maybe you weren't wondering but obviously I needed to vent that thought anyways. ) So, it's actually kind of amazing that so far this month, I have not had to use the late-night gym drop-in. Until tonight.
It was a long-ass day. And all day long I had to keep on reminding myself, "You still have to fit in some quality sweaty time!" A little personal pre-frame. You will go running. Yep, it'll be late, but that run will happen. I left the house at 8:30 am with a stuffed messenger bag with my computer and some of what I call, "bringing the office on my back." I had a second messenger bag full of copies for meetings and presentations I was leading today. This was joined by a 94 ounces of water, and a ziploc full of snacks. My purse, of course (and yep, I still have that tiny-deodarant in there) and my gym bag. I had a meeting, some lunch (not the healthiest choice, but some real protein and veggies) drove an hour, and then found myself with 45 minutes to kill. So, I grabbed some caffeine and free wi-fi about a block from the place where I was going to be giving back-to-back presentations. In the block drive from the coffee shop to the center I knew something was off but not until I parked and started to haul things out of my car was it clear that I had a flat tire. Ugh. That was about hour 11 of my 14 hour day. And I knew there were still two hours of presenting and 60-90 minutes of driving home if only the tire could be changed. No matter - one brief and bad phone-under-running-water moment and visit from the friendly neighborhood AAA burly man and two presentations later I was back on the road and pulling into the gym parking lot at just before 10 pm.
I'm not saying this to pat myself on the back, but it's fricken hard to make yourself drive to the gym and not directly home after working that long. I fight with myself about getting my workouts done all the time, but the voices entreating me to go home and get comfy are much more insistent after working for more than 12 hours straight. The flat tire alone and the stress of that made me long for my bed and a way to shut the book on this day. But I did it, grudgingly. I seriously couldn't even get into thinking about zombies as motivation for my treadmill time. But I also couldn't hold meetings about results and give presentations about accountability and then drive home and not put my time in. I heard myself say to someone today, "The time will pass either way, it's a choice of whether or not the family chooses to use it making things better or staying the same." That statement applies to me too - the day, week, month and year will go by no matter what I do or don't do; it's my choice whether or not to use it to get healthier and achieve some of my goals.
So, there I was, 10 pm, suiting up for a run that I absolutely, positively did not want to do. But a funny thing happened. Once I won the internal battle to get out of my car and go inside the gym, getting on the treadmill and running wasn't as hard as it sometimes is at much more reasonable times of the day. It was as if something deep inside me, something quiet and subconscious was saying, "you already did a 14 hour day, a stressful phone moment, a flat tire, and meetings and presentations. Of course you can run for 30 minutes. " So, I ran. I didn't jog, I ran. I ran above 5.5 most of the time, and where my longest interval of running before had been 5 minutes, I ran for 7 minutes for my first interval and for 5 minutes for my second interval. I sprinted at 6.2 and above. I finished my "assignment" of running 2 miles with 2.5 minutes to spare on the time I was supposed to be keeping. I kept all of my rests (otherwise known as walking) to three minutes or less. I exceeded my required mileage by a quarter mile. What the WHAT?!
If running keeps going this well I will have to give up my fun habit of making jokes about running and zombies. Hmmmmm. That would be too sad since I've held out for a year and I am a mere two weeks away from zombie season! (aiiiiiiieeeee!!!!) While I ponder that, let me say this: I was not alone at the gym at 10pm.
There were 5 other people on treadmills, 2 on stairmasters, and 2 on ellipticals. Apparently stationary bikes and rowing are just not cool after sundown, but I can report that there were two women dealing with bathing suits in the dressing room at 10:45 pm suggesting that swimming is a fine exercise choice in the dark of the night. Who are these people? Parents who can only work out at weird times? Students who are over-committed? Insomniacs? People like me whose jobs don't allow them to have a life?
From outside appearances, those people are me. They were there reading paperwork on the stairmaster. They were there with their cell phone in the drink holder. They were 30-somethings and most of them had some extra fluff and the grim look of, "I have to do this no matter what." They are my people.I joined them proudly with my iPhone-as-iPod (thank god it did not get drowned in that sink-mishap) and a run that I did mostly with my eyes closed because watching the clock inch towards 11pm while I was on a treadmill instead of tucked in bed with a book was a little horrifying.
I might have to go back late at night sometime and see if this magic late-night run effect can be reproduced. But in the meantime, it's very important that I sleep.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Speak up
Helllloooooo! Hello out there!
I have well over 500 page views at this point. Each day, it surprises me to see how many posts have been read. I started this thinking that a few people might sometimes read my blog. For the most part I needed an outlet to rediscover some of my creativity, a place where I could "think out loud" and some ways to hold myself accountable.
I've gotten well over 500 page views in the month since I've started writing, so I know this blog is no longer just for me. For the most part, people have responded by telling me on Facebook or in other ways that they like it and that it speaks to them, or that they like my voice or writing style. And those are always nice things to hear. Sometimes I'll be talking to a friend and they'll say something that refers to my blog, or that assumes knowledge from what I've written rather than anything I've said to them. Those are good moments because in those moments I know I have readers.
What I don't know is which posts, which topics, really reach out to people or grab readers. What do you wonder more about? What do you want to hear less about? What questions do I leave unanswered that you'd like to know more about? Speak up! I want to hear from y'all.
(And thank you so much for reading. It really does help and humble me.)
I have well over 500 page views at this point. Each day, it surprises me to see how many posts have been read. I started this thinking that a few people might sometimes read my blog. For the most part I needed an outlet to rediscover some of my creativity, a place where I could "think out loud" and some ways to hold myself accountable.
I've gotten well over 500 page views in the month since I've started writing, so I know this blog is no longer just for me. For the most part, people have responded by telling me on Facebook or in other ways that they like it and that it speaks to them, or that they like my voice or writing style. And those are always nice things to hear. Sometimes I'll be talking to a friend and they'll say something that refers to my blog, or that assumes knowledge from what I've written rather than anything I've said to them. Those are good moments because in those moments I know I have readers.
What I don't know is which posts, which topics, really reach out to people or grab readers. What do you wonder more about? What do you want to hear less about? What questions do I leave unanswered that you'd like to know more about? Speak up! I want to hear from y'all.
(And thank you so much for reading. It really does help and humble me.)
Sunday, September 25, 2011
hiking
So, I went on my mini-cation. And it was AWESOME.
A lot of people wouldn't understand why I drove 7 total hours in a 36 hour period to go back and forth for this little mini-break. I did it for a lot of reasons. For one, I've been struggling in the last couple of weeks and when I'm spinning in circles often the best strategy is to step outside the groove I've dug myself in the ground. Another reason was that I never get enough time with the friend who invited me. We live an hour apart, and lead very different lives (and then enjoy comparing notes). So, the promise of some uninterrupted time with my smart and hilarious friend was a big lure. I also love seeing more of the giant state I live in. I drive all up and down the Front Range in Colorado for work, but this state is really giant compared to the ones I spent all my time in before. You can drive diagonally across Connecticut in less than the amount of time that I make a drive to Colorado Springs and back, and that's one of my longest work drives but only a small portion of the state. In the time it took me to drive from home to the hotel yesterday I used to be able to drive through part of NJ, NYC and the rest of NY, and most of CT to go see my fam. I love Colorado. It is big, beautiful, and parts of it are wild. It always surprises me how much of it is empty, because that doesn't exist on the East Coast. But it does take time to see enough of it to have a feeling for the state as a whole.
Although I'm not usually a sleep-under-the-stars, pee-outside, outdoorsy type person, in Colorado the need to experience what it has to offer in terms of natural beauty comes over me. I actively look for chances to get up at dawn, climb falls, head into caves, and see things up close and personal. And this location provided me with the chance to drive through some beautiful country as well as to experience up close and personal a waterfall, national forest and gorgeous hiking trails at Fish Creek Falls.
My friend and I packed a lot of vacation into one day. I loved all of it. We had a drunken margarita dinner with food that was more cheesy than is good for my weight-loss goals. We spent time in the hot tub and heated, lighted, swanky pool at night. We watched two movies, shopped, and talked about everything from boys, to children, from music tastes to our politics about guns, from Casey Anthony to how hard it is shop for sports bras. We slept. We pretended we were on a sleep over and talked about who our Hollywood boyfriend would be. We also got out of bed yesterday morning, ate bananas and granola bars, and headed out in our not as awesome clothes and hiked for 90 minutes. (Bonus, Saturday September 24th is National Lands Day or some such, so we didn't have to pay for parking.)
I am short, and I think I've mentioned I have short legs. I am also not the most coordinated or graceful person. This means hiking is not just uphill walking for me. It's real work. For most of my life (and by most, I don't mean half the years I've been alive, but rather, until 4 years ago) my allergies were so bad and my asthma was so unstable that cardio wasn't something I could sustain. And the one would trigger the other, so that several times a year I'd be so ill that for 2-6 weeks I would be unable to exercise at all. That's a major setback for someone like me. It made progress always 2-steps-forward-3-steps-back. So, I missed nearly three decades of building up my cardiovascular health.
I also have two bad knees. My left knee started partially dislocating known as subluxing patella when I was 10 or 11. The good news is that it's not a dislocation that needs to be reduced. The bad news is that it happened 3-6 times a year until my ACL was destroyed and full dislocations became the norm. I had that "fixed" when I was 20 after spending over half a year in a brace and/or on crutches (super fun in one of the iciest winters Western Mass has had in my lifetime, let me tell you) trying to avoid surgery. That surgery was so not fun, because I was trying to keep up a breakneck pace of working several part-time jobs to pay my way through school, as well as planning big things for my "honors thesis" (not what we call it at my college, but similar) and continuing some pretty rigorous study. It was also unthrilling because the three days after that reconstruction was when we discovered I cannot take pain killers. It was a long, long rehab. I'll say that.
So, last year, when my left knee with it's 10 year old ACL graft decided to fully dislocate, it's an understatement to say I was disheartened. I was also on a business trip so I had to reduce it myself (gross noises ensue), ice it, fly home, and wait the weekend before seeing a doctor here. He had a plan of physical therapy and then see-where-we-are. I did 6 weeks of PT and when I had but one appointment left, I was feeling very good. My friends were going to go out dancing and I had mentioned I wanted to go but would probably just meet them for dinner and then leave. My physical therapist said, "Just plan an outfit around wearing your knee brace, keep your feet parallel and on your ground, and don't do anything too crazy. Your left knee will hold up." And my left knee did hold up. But my right knee dislocated three times.
So, after four months of trying other things, last July I had the right knee reconstructed. We did a different reconstruction, and actually it was a longer surgery with more to fix but smaller incisions and less recovery time. But because the repairs were very different I have two very different not quite perfect knees now. I was able to return to personal training about a year ago. I was done with PT in November of last year. But since then, my trainer and I have worked continually on how I stand, how my feet turn in or out, strengthening my knees and legs, and doing many, many exercises that involve stabilizing myself on one leg. I spend a lot of my sweaty-time in any given week doing exercises that make me think about which muscles I'm using to stabilize my knee.
Hiking means doing this non-stop. Where are my feet being placed? How am I pushing up or stabilizing on the way down? Are my glutes activated? My core stable? My knees hyper-extended? How is my balance?
Hiking is hard work for everyone, but most probably put less thought into it. But it's also probably one of the best exercises for me. Instead of being a squat or a one-legged touchdown, this is a functional exercise that causes me to strengthen, practice stabilization of my bad joints, and get some cardio. Going up makes my whole body work and increases my heart rate. Going down is easier on my breathing, but makes my hips, core, glutes, and thighs work harder than pushing up, because I have to consciously control them in order for my knees to keep tracking properly. I know it seems counter-intuitive but down is harder than up. I experienced this for months after each knee surgery - going up stairs was work, but going down stairs was scary.
My friend and I had discussed the night before that neither of us felt the need to hike for hours and hours or sheer rock walls to get to a destination. I also warned her that I might be a bit slower than she was (and secretly hoped she would still like me at the end). So, when we got to Fish Creek Falls we looked at the "you are here" map and the trails and felt that either the trail marked "easy" or "moderate" would do. It turned out, though, that these were rolling strolls on paved walkways that ended in lookouts. It as awesome to see that the park had wheelchair accessible options, but didn't fit our need to get some exercise. So, we crossed the river and headed up the rocky, craggy, high grade hill. Yep, the difficult path.
Let me say this. I never tripped. I never completely lost my wind (despite being at a higher elevation than the town I live in). I never wanted to quit. But, my brain was going at every moment, my feet and knees were working hard, and I was sweaty within 10 minutes. We did stop a couple of times to let people pass us. One was an undergraduat-y looking guy who seemed to be jogging up the rocky hill. that's nice for him. The other was a group of women that we dubbed the "Barbie goes Hiking" group - they were having constant conversation about wedding vows and wedding vow renewals. We decided having them beat us for the front position was fine if it meant we didn't have to listen to them. But for the most part we were walking or hiking UP for 40-60 minutes steadily.
We did not make it to the lake. I would be willing to go back there with the right person or people (someone who is not leaping and jogging up the hill, people who get that I'm a little slower not because I'm wussy but because I have to do it right) and the water and food to do it for the day. But it was 5 miles to the lake, so 10 miles round trip. Nope, not our plan for the day. But we broke a good sweat and various sources estimate that we burned between 700-900 calories. It was great that we got to see some gorgeous pictures, amazing views, and quiet (minus the Barbie hikers). We realized as we were leaving that when we arrived there were half a dozen or so cars parked and when we left it was a full lot. We got there at the right time). And I got an opportunity to put everything I've been working on for the last 18 months into practice.
You would miss one run and sign up for one blister for this, right?
Then, we went shopping. I like to remember my trips by buying things I don't need.
I kept it under budget this time, and will always remember my awesome, unplanned, serendipitous weekend with my friend when I look at my bowl, pointless but hilarious little-shop-of-horrors steel art, and phone charger shelf. Happy, happy Christie. Thank you, thank you friend for being cool, smart, hilarious, and a fabulous friend.
A lot of people wouldn't understand why I drove 7 total hours in a 36 hour period to go back and forth for this little mini-break. I did it for a lot of reasons. For one, I've been struggling in the last couple of weeks and when I'm spinning in circles often the best strategy is to step outside the groove I've dug myself in the ground. Another reason was that I never get enough time with the friend who invited me. We live an hour apart, and lead very different lives (and then enjoy comparing notes). So, the promise of some uninterrupted time with my smart and hilarious friend was a big lure. I also love seeing more of the giant state I live in. I drive all up and down the Front Range in Colorado for work, but this state is really giant compared to the ones I spent all my time in before. You can drive diagonally across Connecticut in less than the amount of time that I make a drive to Colorado Springs and back, and that's one of my longest work drives but only a small portion of the state. In the time it took me to drive from home to the hotel yesterday I used to be able to drive through part of NJ, NYC and the rest of NY, and most of CT to go see my fam. I love Colorado. It is big, beautiful, and parts of it are wild. It always surprises me how much of it is empty, because that doesn't exist on the East Coast. But it does take time to see enough of it to have a feeling for the state as a whole.
Although I'm not usually a sleep-under-the-stars, pee-outside, outdoorsy type person, in Colorado the need to experience what it has to offer in terms of natural beauty comes over me. I actively look for chances to get up at dawn, climb falls, head into caves, and see things up close and personal. And this location provided me with the chance to drive through some beautiful country as well as to experience up close and personal a waterfall, national forest and gorgeous hiking trails at Fish Creek Falls.
My friend and I packed a lot of vacation into one day. I loved all of it. We had a drunken margarita dinner with food that was more cheesy than is good for my weight-loss goals. We spent time in the hot tub and heated, lighted, swanky pool at night. We watched two movies, shopped, and talked about everything from boys, to children, from music tastes to our politics about guns, from Casey Anthony to how hard it is shop for sports bras. We slept. We pretended we were on a sleep over and talked about who our Hollywood boyfriend would be. We also got out of bed yesterday morning, ate bananas and granola bars, and headed out in our not as awesome clothes and hiked for 90 minutes. (Bonus, Saturday September 24th is National Lands Day or some such, so we didn't have to pay for parking.)
I am short, and I think I've mentioned I have short legs. I am also not the most coordinated or graceful person. This means hiking is not just uphill walking for me. It's real work. For most of my life (and by most, I don't mean half the years I've been alive, but rather, until 4 years ago) my allergies were so bad and my asthma was so unstable that cardio wasn't something I could sustain. And the one would trigger the other, so that several times a year I'd be so ill that for 2-6 weeks I would be unable to exercise at all. That's a major setback for someone like me. It made progress always 2-steps-forward-3-steps-back. So, I missed nearly three decades of building up my cardiovascular health.
I also have two bad knees. My left knee started partially dislocating known as subluxing patella when I was 10 or 11. The good news is that it's not a dislocation that needs to be reduced. The bad news is that it happened 3-6 times a year until my ACL was destroyed and full dislocations became the norm. I had that "fixed" when I was 20 after spending over half a year in a brace and/or on crutches (super fun in one of the iciest winters Western Mass has had in my lifetime, let me tell you) trying to avoid surgery. That surgery was so not fun, because I was trying to keep up a breakneck pace of working several part-time jobs to pay my way through school, as well as planning big things for my "honors thesis" (not what we call it at my college, but similar) and continuing some pretty rigorous study. It was also unthrilling because the three days after that reconstruction was when we discovered I cannot take pain killers. It was a long, long rehab. I'll say that.
So, last year, when my left knee with it's 10 year old ACL graft decided to fully dislocate, it's an understatement to say I was disheartened. I was also on a business trip so I had to reduce it myself (gross noises ensue), ice it, fly home, and wait the weekend before seeing a doctor here. He had a plan of physical therapy and then see-where-we-are. I did 6 weeks of PT and when I had but one appointment left, I was feeling very good. My friends were going to go out dancing and I had mentioned I wanted to go but would probably just meet them for dinner and then leave. My physical therapist said, "Just plan an outfit around wearing your knee brace, keep your feet parallel and on your ground, and don't do anything too crazy. Your left knee will hold up." And my left knee did hold up. But my right knee dislocated three times.
So, after four months of trying other things, last July I had the right knee reconstructed. We did a different reconstruction, and actually it was a longer surgery with more to fix but smaller incisions and less recovery time. But because the repairs were very different I have two very different not quite perfect knees now. I was able to return to personal training about a year ago. I was done with PT in November of last year. But since then, my trainer and I have worked continually on how I stand, how my feet turn in or out, strengthening my knees and legs, and doing many, many exercises that involve stabilizing myself on one leg. I spend a lot of my sweaty-time in any given week doing exercises that make me think about which muscles I'm using to stabilize my knee.
Hiking means doing this non-stop. Where are my feet being placed? How am I pushing up or stabilizing on the way down? Are my glutes activated? My core stable? My knees hyper-extended? How is my balance?
Hiking is hard work for everyone, but most probably put less thought into it. But it's also probably one of the best exercises for me. Instead of being a squat or a one-legged touchdown, this is a functional exercise that causes me to strengthen, practice stabilization of my bad joints, and get some cardio. Going up makes my whole body work and increases my heart rate. Going down is easier on my breathing, but makes my hips, core, glutes, and thighs work harder than pushing up, because I have to consciously control them in order for my knees to keep tracking properly. I know it seems counter-intuitive but down is harder than up. I experienced this for months after each knee surgery - going up stairs was work, but going down stairs was scary.
My friend and I had discussed the night before that neither of us felt the need to hike for hours and hours or sheer rock walls to get to a destination. I also warned her that I might be a bit slower than she was (and secretly hoped she would still like me at the end). So, when we got to Fish Creek Falls we looked at the "you are here" map and the trails and felt that either the trail marked "easy" or "moderate" would do. It turned out, though, that these were rolling strolls on paved walkways that ended in lookouts. It as awesome to see that the park had wheelchair accessible options, but didn't fit our need to get some exercise. So, we crossed the river and headed up the rocky, craggy, high grade hill. Yep, the difficult path.
Let me say this. I never tripped. I never completely lost my wind (despite being at a higher elevation than the town I live in). I never wanted to quit. But, my brain was going at every moment, my feet and knees were working hard, and I was sweaty within 10 minutes. We did stop a couple of times to let people pass us. One was an undergraduat-y looking guy who seemed to be jogging up the rocky hill. that's nice for him. The other was a group of women that we dubbed the "Barbie goes Hiking" group - they were having constant conversation about wedding vows and wedding vow renewals. We decided having them beat us for the front position was fine if it meant we didn't have to listen to them. But for the most part we were walking or hiking UP for 40-60 minutes steadily.
We did not make it to the lake. I would be willing to go back there with the right person or people (someone who is not leaping and jogging up the hill, people who get that I'm a little slower not because I'm wussy but because I have to do it right) and the water and food to do it for the day. But it was 5 miles to the lake, so 10 miles round trip. Nope, not our plan for the day. But we broke a good sweat and various sources estimate that we burned between 700-900 calories. It was great that we got to see some gorgeous pictures, amazing views, and quiet (minus the Barbie hikers). We realized as we were leaving that when we arrived there were half a dozen or so cars parked and when we left it was a full lot. We got there at the right time). And I got an opportunity to put everything I've been working on for the last 18 months into practice.
You would miss one run and sign up for one blister for this, right?
Then, we went shopping. I like to remember my trips by buying things I don't need.
I kept it under budget this time, and will always remember my awesome, unplanned, serendipitous weekend with my friend when I look at my bowl, pointless but hilarious little-shop-of-horrors steel art, and phone charger shelf. Happy, happy Christie. Thank you, thank you friend for being cool, smart, hilarious, and a fabulous friend.
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