196.9.*

During my many stints on Weight Watchers, I always mocked the people who called the one hundred pound range one-derland. I told myself that I hated cheesy word-plays and that I, as a sophisticated and refined adult, was far above such tacky behavior.

Upon further review, I find that, like the Mariners ball girls, high school cheerleaders and homecoming royalty, one-derland is something that I mocked in hopes of convincing myself, and those around me, that I could care less. Funny how much we care about those silly things.

So, yeah, I’m calling it one-derland. Being tacky never felt so right.

In other news, and this may be the single greatest sentence I have ever written, it seems I am losing weight a little too quickly (my goal is 1-2 lbs per week) which means that I get to up my calories a tiny bit. Woo Hooo!

*Assuming the scale is accurate, which I’m trying not to think about too much.

I just got Eat This, Not That! from the library.

Head over to the book page to see what I thought.

One of the more entertaining parts of my OCD occurs when I fixate on something that seems wrong when I know it should be right. When I had to inventory all the greeting cards at the bookstore one night, I became convinced that Dad was spelled wrong on some of the cards. I ended up staying at the store until 3am, trying to figure out which ones were right and which ones were wrong. At various times in my life, I become obsessed with clocks, making sure they are all set to the same time and completely freaking out when I came across a clock that differs from the ones that I thought were right. Even now, after medication and therapy, I can get myself pretty worked up if I think too hard about the clock issue.

The point? I get a little crazy when I believe there is a RIGHT answer and I can’t find it.

Enter, the scale.

The one at my house is utterly useless. It is at least 8 lbs off. I avoid standing on it as much as I can. The one at the doctor’s office? I know it should be right, but I’m not there very often, so I can’t be sure. The one at the gym? It balances at zero, but both Justin and I have noticed random unexplainable fluctuations. And the one at my weight loss meeting last night? Well, I stood on it three times in a row and got three different numbers.

(The middle number was 200.4, so that’s what is going on my graph. Yay for me!)

It’s enough to bring out The Crazy in anyone, and more than enough to drive me over the edge.

Using some of the coping skills developed over the years, I am trying to talk myself down from complete insanity. All the scales show change. It’s just a number. With the exception of the one at home, they are within 2-3lbs of each other and that could be explained by the clothes you are wearing or the time of day at which you weighed yourself.

I get it, and I’ll be okay.

I’m just going to go lie down and wait for my nervous twitch to stop.

After handing out the lunch endorsement a few months ago, I am ready to stamp my approval on something else: Mortality.

Not so much in the sense of death (to which I remain unequivocally opposed) but in the sense of knowing yourself and your limits, understanding your humanity and walking that fine line between a breakthrough and a breakdown.*

Marathoning For Mortals by John “The Penguin” Bingham and Coach Jenny Hadfield. I’ve read it cover to cover twice now in preparation for Seattle (and in hopes of actually enjoying training for NODM - June 8 is approaching fast). Each time I come away inspired and motivated, not only to run more but to see the changes that running can bring in other parts of my life.

“You already have everything you need to be a long-distance athlete. It’s mind-set - not miles - that separates those who do from those who dream. … You see, once you decide to run or walk further than the 10k (6.2 miles), your quest centers much more on tenacity than talent.”

Running not only strengthens my body, it strengthens my mind. I used to have an unending list of things that I can not do. Many of those things seem ludicrous now, a change I attribute directly to overcoming my mental blocks about running.

“The recipe for success includes equal amounts of physical and mental strength. In every long-distance race, your body eventually gets tired and your mind must take over.
At that moment when your body begins to tire, you must make the conscious decision to think your way to the finish. Mental strength is the ability to focus on the task at hand and move your body as efficiently as possible to the final destination. Mental fitness is what will carry you past your training miles in to the physical unknown.”

The first time I read this book, I agreed with some of the critics. I felt like this program was lowering the bar or taking some of the mystique away from distance running. Then I realized that was my pride talking. I didn’t want to be a mortal, I wanted to be superwoman. I didn’t want to believe that anyone could run a marathon, in truth, I wanted running to be unaccessible so that I could chalk it up as something I can do that most people I know can’t. Throughout the book, they convinced me that, for mortals, the joy of competing is not beating other people but competing against yourself, your assumptions, your expectations, your best efforts. This book pushed me to be a better pusher, to encourage everyone I know to go out and do the thing you think you cannot do.

“We believe that excellence is not a relative term. What is excellent for you has nothing to do with what is excellent for someone else. There may be absolute standards of measurement to determine finishing order. In that setting, it’s true that someone crosses the finish line first and someone crosses it last. But that doesn’t mean that second place is the first loser.
You are going to discover your personal best somewhere during the training or during the race. There will come a point when you know that you are accomplishing the most that your body, your mind and your will have to offer. There will come a point when what you believe about yourself equals what is true about yourself.”

I think that some of the dissolution I was feeling before I read this book was due to losing perspective. I was disappointed because I couldn’t run as fast as person X or as long as person Y. Frustration blinded me to the reality that I am not competing against them, I am competing against myself, my demons, my hang-ups and, as long as I keep going, that is a competition I can win.

*Shamelessly copied that phrase from the book. It’s so true.

April 19, 2008, endurance run on the schedule. As the endurance runs get longer, they get harder on many levels. Not only am I running for a long time, I am concentrating on keeping my heart rate in the lower range and working to develop better control, pacing myself and making sure that I am running slower at the beginning and faster at the end.

Thinking about numbers and negative splits is mentally draining, I can’t just zone out and run, I have to keep focused. I was fine for the first six miles. And then, at almost the same moment, my ipod battery ran out and La Nina - that saucy minx - reared her ugly head and started dumping sleet on me.

Sleet! In April!

It was bad enough to read 37 degrees on the thermometer, but the sleet and the abrupt end of my soundtrack was too much. I spent the remaining 3.5 miles raging against weather patterns and my inability to remember to plug in the charger.

It was cold. It was wet. These April showers better be worth it.

It’s not that I haven’t been reading lately, it’s just that I haven’t been adding books to the book list.

I’ve got them now though:
London by Edward Rutherfurd
Marathoning For Mortals by John “The Penguin” Bingham and Coach Jenny Hadfield
Runner’s World: Complete Book of Woman’s Running by Dagney Scott
Marathon Training for Dummies by Tere Stouffer Drenth.

Go over to the Book List and find out more.

I love chili.

I got the base of this fantastic recipe years ago and have stuck with it through a variety of changes - substituting lentils for the meat works well, using ketchup instead of tomato sauce does not. (It was late at night, in Bellingham. I couldn’t get to the store.) The original recipe calls for equal parts ground beef and ground sausage, I made it this time with turkey.

It’s good. It’s good for you. It’s major comfort food that really works.

Check out My Favorite Chili!

… that I did not expect to do on April 15, 2008.

1. Scrape ice. Enough is enough. Winter is done. Spring is here. I should not need a coat anymore.

2. Clean up poop. Why can’t it go in the toilet? Pee goes in the toilet all day, every day. Why not poop?

3. Report that I weighed in at 205.1 last night. I knew last week was bad. I knew I had been slacking. I knew that a good weekend doesn’t make up for a bad week. But, still, I hoped…

These things may seem unrelated; they are, to an extent. But, they are connected through my desire to control all things, thus ensuring my comfort and ease.

I want to control my world rather than controlling myself.

I want to control my son rather than controlling myself.

I want to control my food rather than controlling myself.

Think about that - it’s the key to the connection between these three things. I want to control the things around me. I do not want to engage in the hard work of controlling me. My goal is to control the circumstances of my life so that I can create the comfort/ease/pseudo-freedom I believe I deserve.

Self-control. It comes in many forms - maturity, obedience, discipline, humility, submission - but they all boil down to one thing. What do you do when left to your own devices? Elisabeth Elliot says it well, “Whose are you?” she asks. Do I live for my own ease or something greater? Do I live for my own comfort or for something more? Am I willing to give up my own rights for the rights of another? Am I willing to give up my own perception of freedom for the promise of something better?

Too often I am not.

For all my success, I continue to fight this battle. And just so there is no misrepresentation (amidst all the running joy) let me say this: I’m good at running and working out. I’m good at gardening and playing outside. I’m good at reading. I’m good at charts and graphs and all things nerdy. But, when all is said and done, I am not good at doing anything that doesn’t serve my interests of comfort and convenience, including walking away from the refrigerator.

I am always one for making extravagant new plans.

I like anticipating, charting and projecting. I like plans because they make me feel like I am in control.

The problem is that I am, often, not in control. Add to that an almost extraordinary measure of inflexibility and you have a stellar recipe for complete failure - at least, that’s how I used to see it.

As I grow up, I am learning to allow for more changes. I am learning that even the best plans can get better, and that a change in plans does not mean that the whole thing needs to get crumpled up and tossed away.

This year, I planned to be superwoman. I was going to get strong and lean and fast and fit, all in 6-10 hours a week.

My fitness plan for this year started out with training for a half-marathon and grew to include a full marathon - because I am nothing if not compulsive - as well as mastering a very difficult strength-training workout and still walking around and playing with Andrew for the rest of the day.

It has come to my attention that my body can not do this.

I have spent the better part of the last few months in some stage of sickness, ache, and general, unrelenting, pervasive fatigue. I’m not injured - I’m just tired. I have tried to push through it and now I am going to step back and re-evaluate my plan.

John Bingham and Jenny Hadfield, in Marathoning For Mortals, explain it this way:

You’ll learn that sometimes enthusiasm is your biggest asset, and at other times it is your greatest liability. You’ll learn that sometimes less is more, and often less is plenty. You’ll learn that your mind can trick your body and that your body is limited more by your imagination than by your biomechanics.

They go on to say:

Your greatest danger is not the course of the distance. Your greatest danger may be your unwillingness both to accept the difficulty of the challenge before you and, as a result, to refuse to adjust your strategy, goals, objectives, and even your definition of success.

I’m hard-headed, but I’m learning. Right now, I’m learning that I can’t do it all. The running is hurting my strength training and the strength training is killing my runs.

Right now I want to be a runner. I want to run my 1/2 marathon and my fun races this summer and then I want to train my ass off for Seattle.

This means taking better care of my body, laying off the weights and adding another day of rest to my schedule. As of right now, the plan is to focus more on upper body and core weights two times a week and let the running take care of my legs. I am going to add a yoga class once a week to get some more dedicated stretching time and I am going to learn to actually rest when the schedule says rest.

This means taking my nutrition to the next level, making sure I am taking in the right ratio of protein, fat and carbs. Justin built a lovely addition to my excel sheet that calculates the percentages of these things in my daily food intake. Turns out that the percentage of carbs and fat that pass my lips each day, even in the context of the right amount of calories, is obscene. This will change.

This means focus and discipline. I need to learn how to pace myself. I need to slow down out of the gate so that I have the energy to go longer distances. One of my biggest fears is starting a race strong and not finishing. I need to practice better control when I run.

All of these goals are counter-intuitive for me, but all of them will leave lasting positive changes on my life.

After the marathon (c’mon, you know you want to!), I am going to take 2-3 months off from distance running. I will still run, for fun and sanity, but I will run shorter distances and running days will be the easy ones. During this time I will focus on strength training, both because I want to and in preparation for next year’s races. During this time I will learn to do push-ups the right way, I will attempt to do a pull up, I will do a ridiculous amount of squats and burpees and mountain climbers and inverted rows. I will leave a pool of sweat at the gym. I will be sore, but I will be strong.

It seems like a long way off, but I need to have a plan. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some running to do.

We rewarded ourselves for all of Justin’s overtime by buying a new camera.

Justin took this picture at the park last night, convincing me that this was a good investment.

Every time I go to Portland, I find a new reason to want to move there.

This time it is the twin sirens of Forest Park and Laughing Planet.

Imagine, sunny, happy, running trails and a restaurant where I have to choose between 5-6 healthy options, instead of finding the one thing on the menu that won’t kill my day and settling for it. It’s revolutionary.

Heidi had an appointment on Friday morning, so she dropped me off at Forest Park to go for a run. I was a bit nervous about the trail, which is one big, albeit gradual, hill, but that day was beautiful so I headed off.

As the sun came up over the hill, I realized that running up a hill is the same as running anywhere else - step one: start running, there is no step two.

The trail was full of other runners and walkers, some, like me, huffing and puffing their way up, others lapping us as they ran up and down the trail. It didn’t matter. Everyone was happy to be outside in the sun. I made it to the 3.25 mile marker in about 40 minutes and then headed back down.

(I think that the most of the course for the North Olympic Discovery Marathon is similar to this - except flat! I am getting really excited.)

Previous entries to this list include affordable housing, Stumptown, Powells, Hedge House, Stumptown, Imago Dei, learning to ride a bike, cyclocross, getting work done in person instead of through email and Stumptown, among others. Andrew’s grandparents will be glad to know that I do listen to my advisors, who tell me to never move away from my childcare. But it’s close.

I took the train to Portland on Thursday morning. I went down to work and learn and Get. Stuff. Done. in person instead of over email.

I had this great plan, working on the train, being productive, reading and writing and checking things off the list.

But I didn’t.

Instead, I listened to all the back episodes of The Bugle and startled the elderly gentleman sitting across from me with my random guffaws and snorts. If you like The Daily Show, this is the podcast for you.

Sometimes it is good to take a break.

I signed up to run the Seattle Marathon. November 30, 2008.

Bam! Take that suckers.

My reputation as a pusher demands that I make the following statement:

I know that not everyone can, or should, run long-distance, but I believe that everyone I know could train to walk the 1/2 marathon.

Stick with me here…

In my new favorite book, Marathoning For Mortals, the authors detail a Walk 1/2 Marathon training plan that assumes you are starting with walking for 30 minutes, three times a week.

Now, you and I both know that, if you wanted to, you could walk for 30 minutes, three times a week. In fact, many of you already are.

The plan takes 14 weeks to complete, so, by my calculations, you would need to start training sometime around the middle of August (August 18, if you want to get picky) to be ready on November 30. This means that if you are not currently walking 30 minutes, three times a week, you can get to that point before August 18 and be ready to start training.

For those of you who want a bit more of a challenge (and you know who you are), the book also includes walk/run, run/walk (yes, there is a difference) and running plans for both the 1/2 marathon and full marathon distance.

I know it seems like a big deal. I know you are very busy and you don’t have time. I know that you are afraid to commit to something. I know that there’s this thing, and that maybe next year, and that the entry fee is expensive. I know that you think you can’t do it, or that you think you don’t want to do it. And I know that all of those things are excuses.

They are only excuses.

At some point, if you want to make a change, you have to decide that the excuses are wrong.

Here are the facts. This is going to be hard. You will have to make some changes. You will be sore. Your support troops must rally. Logistics will need to be worked out and sacrifices will have to be made.

I’m not saying it will be easy, I’m saying it will be worth it.

So, who’s up for a challenge?

You can email me for more of the particulars - jarygel (at) gmail (dot) com - or check out the Seattle Marathon website.

Here are the song lists for the cd’s I made. Some songs made it to all three, some were more specifically chosen.

Alecia - who will be joining me, stroller in hand, at the Run for Children’s next September
Nichole - who already did the St Pats Dash, and who I can probably talk in to something else
Nick - running pal extraordinaire
Jen - on board for the IronGirl 5k

Leah, who not only gave me mad props recently, but is also kicking ass with her own walking plan, took the plunge and agreed to sign up for a race this year. So she officially rocks too!

Hurrah!

Hear that?

That’s the sound of a hammer hitting a chisel as a stone mason carefully carves off another part of the sculpture. Sometimes large portions of the rock fall away at once, other times a microscopic film of dust floats to the ground. To the untrained observer (or to the apparently anthropomorphic sculpture - I’m getting overwhelmed by my own metaphor) it seems that the large portions make the bigger difference. They provide motivation and encouragement. They look damn sexy on the graph. But they are rough, unfinished ugly pieces. The real art is in the details.

This 10-week session ended with 203.3 on the scale.

Total session loss: 6.1 lbs. Measurements: .5″ down in both waist and hips.

These are not the huge slabs of rock falling away at once. These are the details. It’s slow and frustrating, but it’s happening.

When I stop criticizing myself, I realize that this is not a conspiracy to drive me crazy. This is art.

I was relaying a conversation about my spreadsheet obsession to Justin over lunch the other day,

“…and then she said we were all big geeks!”

when Andrew jumped in,

“A geek! I’m not a geek. I’m just a dragon.”

Justin grinned,

“Andrew, most people who think that they are dragons are, by definition, also geeks.”

When I heard that there was a race called the Skagit Valley Tulip Run, I assumed, not without cause, that at some point during the run I would find myself within sight of the tulip fields.

This was not the case.

No, the Skagit Valley Tulip Run is a race that follows wooded trails around the Skagit Valley Airport. The trails are lovely, but I have to admit I was disappointed by the conspicuous lack of tulips and other early spring flowers.

Thankfully, the race was redeemed by a few factors: a) it didn’t rain, b) my unofficial time was 47.22 for a 5-mile race - that’s about 9:28/mile!, c) my belief that Nick is a good running buddy for me was confirmed - the kid threw an elbow when I went to pass him! I know he was kidding, but that’s just plain rad!

To top it all off, we stopped by some of the fields on the way home and got our flower fix, admittedly they were daffodils instead of tulips but the effect is the same.

My next race is the 1/2 marathon. Running information overload will commence … now.

It is startling how often I find myself face to face with a misconception. My carefully arranged persona (aka: my inner know-it-all-smartass) crumbles around me and I am forced to admit that, maybe, I was slightly wrong about something.

The latest victim? Fit people.

For years, probably decades, I believed that there were these people - strong, lean, athletically gifted - who sailed through life, winners of the genetic lottery, eating whatever they wanted, laying around reading novels all day, and then jumping up from their couches to slip on their tiny clothes and accomplish whatever athletic feat caught their fancy.

I think I believed that for so long because it provided such a handy excuse.

Finding out how wrong I am is humbling, to say the least.

These people aren’t lucky - they’re motivated. They don’t eat whatever they want - they measure each mouthful, deciding whether or not it will help them reach their goals. Even those who have some genetic gifts, such as my skinny husband, have to work their asses off at the gym to accomplish any major athletic feat.

Skinny people may be born, fit people are made.

This last vacation marked the first time I had ever planned meals on a trip. I packed a cooler full of Tupperware - sliced fruit, cottage cheese, hard boiled egg whites, veggies, hummus, Banana Bran Muffins, yogurt, whole grain cereal. The whole time I was prepping food, I was dreading eating it on vacation. I thought I would be resentful. I thought I would die a little bit inside every time we drove past Dairy Queen without stopping for a Blizzard. I thought I wouldn’t be able to stick to my plan, and that I would just add it to my list of Things I Can’t Do.

Then I remembered that I don’t believe in that list anymore.

We had a great trip, and the trip wasn’t about food. Too often, in my past, vacation has translated in to food extravaganza. This time it translated in to doing really fun stuff and making a point to eat well. The biggest accomplishment is that I stuck to my plan. I ate breakfast, lunch and snacks from the things I brought with me and enjoyed my dinners even more because I wasn’t overly full from all the crap I had eaten throughout the day. I had a ridiculously good seafood stew, great pizza and The World’s Best Clam Chowder - and I didn’t feel guilty.

The most amazing thing is realizing that food is something I have control over. I don’t know how to explain this revelation, but if you’ve come from the same place with food that I have, you understand. I enjoyed eating out on this vacation more than I ever have before. I felt full and fed, I had energy and I came away from it without losing momentum.

I guess sometimes it is good to be wrong.

My favorite thing about the Children’s Museum is that, no matter how often we go, Andrew always finds something different to enthrall him. The most recent obsession, a recording studio. He is his father’s boy.

Added bonus: I think the fact that he will now consent to wearing headphones means that we can ride on an airplane!

203.6 (oh, how I wish that number was my April Fools joke)

GRRRRRAAAAAAHHHHHHGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!

(deep breath)

Okay, let’s consult the data sheets and talk perspective. (Full disclosure: perspective includes talking about periods and poop. You have been warned.)

Last Monday morning, at the gym, I weighed in at 202. Last Monday night, 200.9. What does that mean? Usually the gym is 2-3lbs lower than the weekly weigh-in. I had a very upset stomach last Monday and managed to poop more in one day than I usually do in a week. I should have considered the implications of such activities.

Since February, I have somehow managed to skip my period. SETTLE DOWN. I’m not pregnant. I’m pretty sure the cycle disruption is due to increased training and weight loss, but I’m going to go to the doctor in the next few weeks to make sure. I keep feeling like it is about to start, which makes me think that I could be holding (or losing) some water weight from week to week. I’m frustrated and grouchy about the whole situation, but I think that has something to do with the hormones too.

We went on vacation last week (and there will be much more on the topic of food and vacation later). I did exactly what I planned to do on vacation, and if that led to some weight gain then so be it. I am euphoric about how good it feels to stick to my plan.

So, without abdicating any responsibility, I think it is safe to say that there are a few possible culprits.

The really encouraging thing, in this quest for perspective, is that I am getting some perspective about this whole thing. My group leader always says that the scale is just one tool to give us feedback about how we are doing. So the scale told me that I gained 3 lbs this week.

Okay.

Let’s look at another number - miles run in the month of March: 82.17.

Damn. That will work for me.

The scale will figure itself out.