Born to Run? Me?

I came to a realization today. I love running outside!

This is strange, in light of the fact that I made up a lot of excuses to avoid doing this in the build up to summer. “It’s too cold and I’m a wuss” “The cold triggers my asthma” “I need to watch something on TV to distract me”

Oh sure, I had run outside in the past. Actually, I came to start running in the first place because my treadmill had died, and I wound up having to exercise outside. It was a crazy hot day, and brilliant me, I thought I’d run so I could get my cardio over and done with faster. Honestly, it’s a miracle I’m still alive. Once I calculated the Activity Points via Weight Watchers, I decided that running would be “my thing”. I had a few fits and starts since that first day (like gaining 85+ pounds, but I digress) but I’ve always tried to come back to it.

Last year when I got back into fitness, I started running again, and signed up for a few races. Running outside was difficult to say the least. Now I know it was difficult because of (a) general lack of conditioning, (b) approximately 50 to 60 pounds of fat I had on my frame (compared to my current weight – and while I’ve lost 94 pounds to date, even I am not dumb enough to try to run at 230 pounds – I had to lose a few before I decimated my knees) and finally, (c) inadequately treated asthma. I couldn’t make it more than a mile before I started wondering when I could stop and/or dry heave.

Once the winter hit I was on the treadmill, with DVR’d episodes of “Blue Boods”, “Desperate Housewives” and “The Apprentice” to amuse me, full water bottle by my side and inhaler right on the treadmill dashboard. I went to the doctor for a regular checkup when she put me on a new medication for my asthma, and I was surprised to find that my inhaler started gathering dust, but I wasn’t ready to leave it behind.

My realization that I love running outside came a few weeks ago. I had a Saturday when I knew I would have a time crunch, and wasting time waiting for a stair master, my usual Saturday activity, wasn’t going to fit in. I woke up, planning to hit the treadmill in my house, when I felt ashamed. It was a sunny, gorgeous day. The temperature was perfect - not too hot, not too cold and practically no humidity. With some dread, I grabbed my one pair of “outside” running shorts (they have a pocket with a zipper, so I could keep my trusty inhaler close by) and laced up my sneakers.

To my surprise, the runners high kicked in. I never touched my inhaler, and I was able to manage my water intake thanks to a handheld water bottle that strapped to my hand. In fact, toward the end of my run, I was running down a hill, Born This Way blasting from my headphones, when I stretched my arms out. It was a cheesy move, yes, but I felt, I don’t know, alive. Running actually felt natural, not forced. I’ve been running on and off for 7 years and this is the first time I’ve felt like this.

Running was always more about efficiency than anything else. Doing Weight Watchers, I live for my Activity Points. I can gain 10 APs by running for 61 minutes (not that I’m counting the nanosecond or anything) while it takes me 2 hours and 33 minutes to earn the equivalent walking alone. A higher intensity activity just makes more sense, who cares if it’s fun?

Since that Saturday, I’ve taken every chance I can get to run outside. If I didn’t need to get up so early to knock out my cardio, I’d run in the morning, but I’m pretty sure a 5 am run (when it’s pitch black) would be a suicide mission.

Today, because of my urgently needed motor vehicle inspection (15 days late, but really, who’s counting?) I had to work from home, and in light of the gorgeous weather, I took an early lunch and went for a late morning run. I grabbed any old pair of shorts, tucked my inhaler in my sports bra and grabbed a random water bottle.

I was dying by mile 2, but persevered. I ran 62 minutes and 6.75 miles. When I synchronized my run, I discovered I had a personal best as far as speed, 9 minutes, 12 seconds per mile on average. Honestly, I know may never replicate this run, so I’m reveling in it, and as of right now, baby, I was born to run. Care to join me?

Progress

I feel like I’ve made some progress in this little journey of mine. Last week, as I ranted incessantly, was so not a good week in terms of living a healthy lifestyle. Between eating too much at a holiday bar-b-que, not being able to exercise because of 12 hour long work days and stress binge eating, I started to slip into bad habit and it showed on the scale. In reality, I wasn’t as bad as I could have been, and probably ate much worse on a “normal” day pre Weight Watchers, but I still did a really good job of beating the hell out of myself over it.

I made a key decision, I still went to my weekly weigh in, even though knew it would be bad. I couldn’t go to my normal Friday meeting, so I made a point of getting up early on Saturday and getting over to another meeting. As expected, it was bad. Like 3.4 pound gain bad. I know it wasn’t all fat, but still, pretty bad on my 5’3” frame. Five years ago, something like that would have had me running for the nearest McDonalds (conveniently located across the parking lot from WW. Seriously, whoever planned these locations is either an evil genius or a complete idiot. My guess is evil genius.) That is, if I even got on the scale at all. Like a lot of people, I hate seeing the cold reality of the scale, even more so when the prior trend was downward.

I’d be lying if I didn’t have the urge to let myself “go” another week, but I tried to remember what got me started. I tried to remember how I felt with 90 pounds of extra weight, wearing clothes I didn’t like, not being able to wear rings I loved because they were too tight on my bloated fingers, being sweaty all the time. I tried to remember how difficult it was to walk at a quick pace, forget running, the embarrassment of barfing after pushing myself too hard on a cardio machine (even if I did retell it for laughs later on) . I kept telling myself I wasn’t going to be going back that place, to being that person.

So I spent Saturday trying to get back on plan with mixed results. I went for a 7.5 mile run, I ate healthy and on track until the evening came and the carb monster decided to come out to play. I kept trying, with success for the rest of the week. I went to my weigh in today hoping to at least not have gained, hopefully to have lost. My hard work paid off and I not only lost the weight I gained last week, but also another quarter pound.

The focus now, as it has been, is maintenance, but also to be more realistic. I had the worst case scenario – a horrid week, not eating right, missing some exercise, and a rather large gain, and guess what? I survived. I not only survived, but I managed to get back on track and reverse it.

Makes me think I just may be able to do this maintenance thing!

Yes, Another Whiny Food/Diet Related Blog

I feel like shit.

I’m not sick, allergies are OK despite the pollen and humidity. I’ve been eating like a human garbage can since last Friday.

Oh, lighten up I thought. It’s a holiday weekend. It started with a doughnut after an unexpected 2 pound weight loss at weigh in.

From there on it’s been downhill. The people living with me don’t really know because I closet eat. It’s part of my thing. I’m uncomfortable eating OP (Off Program) in front of other people, even if I have the “budget” from Weekly Points and Activity Points, especially when I've blown my budget. Pretzels and doughnuts are the key culprints, easy to eat while driving. I have literally driven from one convenience store to another to buy binge food and eat it on the way. I can’t really explain it, I wish I could so I could stop it. The good news is that I'm working really hard to get the purging under control. It's a struggle and a process, but I'm working on it.

Yesterday I got a prelunch peptalk from my friend J. I ate my healthy salad, fruit as a snack, killer workout, healthy dinner. Then I started snacking.

So it’s come to this, Wednesday, Day 6 of my binge. I’ve worked out everyday except today, so that works in my favor, although the fact that I couldn’t face the heat has backed me into a workout corner. Now I’m stuck in a room with 15 colleagues, with no sign of getting out anytime soon so I can exercise at a reasonable time. I’m wearing a suit that if I’m honest has always been snug. On one hand I’m pretty sure it’s no tighter than usual, although given the guilt I’m feeling from the poor eating (excessive snacking more like) it feels like a sausage casing. The scale is up at least 2.5 pounds since last Friday, Lord knows what it will be like by Saturday.

I know that how I’ve eaten over the past few days doesn’t even hold a candle to how I used to eat but I’m still feeling bad. I also know that I’m too hard on myself. I know that, really I do. I saw the movie Black Swan a few months ago, and the lead character (who winds up killing herself in the end in a state of psychosis – I won’t spoil the movie for you but it wasn’t an intentional suicide, and please don’t misinterpret this comparison as a threat) has a constant refrain – she wants to be perfect. That rang true with me. No, not the start ballet, dress up in bird feathers, have a psychotic break with reality wherein (SPOILER ALERT) I think I've killed the person that is my rival but have actually stabbed myself in the stomach.

No, I want to be perfect.

Oh, and Black Swan while good, was a really strange movie. But I did learn that trying to be perfect is really not a good thing.

It’s not rational, it’s not practical. It’s setting myself up for failure, thus starting a shame spiral from not being perfect. Perfection cannot be attained. I know this. Really I do. I need to find a way to loosen the reins and live. Indulge without binging.

I can’t change today (or Tuesday, Monday, Sunday, Saturday or Friday) but I can change go forward. I can choose differently tomorrow. I can live in the now.

I still have a race coming up – one in July and another in November. I will be running them.

I have a new wardrobe – buying one in a bigger size is not an option. I will be wearing it three months from now.

My breakfast, lunch and snacks (healthy and on program) are both still in the fridge. I will be eating them tomorrow. The vending machine and I are on a break. Except for a diet coke and perhaps a cup of black coffee, nothing else will be purchased by me in the cafeteria tomorrow. Gas (and perhaps fruit) is all Wawa will be selling me – no doughnuts, no soft pretzels.

I will be up at 5:00 am tomorrow and Friday since the way today has gone, the gym after work probably isn't realistic. Brass tacks: I feel better when I workout. The day starts on a good note. A part of me is even starting to like how free I feel when I run. Shhh! Don't tell anyone.

I know I have the tools. One day of not exercising doesn’t mean I will have lost my endurance. Because of these meetings, I won’t be able to work with my trainer this week. This doesn’t mean I will have lost my muscle tone.

I need to think of the past few days as being on the world’s crappiest cruise with the world’s best buffet table. I ate to excess (for me) but I’ll bounce back. This is my dietary week's staycation.

The staycation is over tomorrow, weigh in day (Saturday because of these meetings) be damned.

I can do this. I WILL do this.

If for no other reason, so I don’t have to write another blog entry like this.

Thanks for listening again. Thanks for still supporting me. Thanks for continuing to have my back.