Rainbows get me all excited.

Yesterday I talked about speed work and how I love it so. (And I do.)

Today I woke up and realized it didn't exactly love me back.  My legs are pretty tired after yesterday's speediness, and I have some soreness lingering in my left quad that will probably make me cycle tomorrow rather than do mile repeats, and maybe go for an easy run on Friday before I do the Sunburst Half Marathon on South Bend, IN on Saturday.

I must remember not to crank up the training too fast.  Easy on the peasy, if you know what I mean.  And you probably don't.

I should have cycled this morning, but I decided to go for a slow 6 mile run instead.  I did manage to keep it slow and easy, and the temperatures were very nice.  Even though it was a little windy, it really cooled you off when you started sweating.  Oh, and the rain did, too.

But the best part of the run was a totally awesome double rainbow that started to form about one mile into the run:

OK, so that's not an actual picture from this morning's run.  But that was pretty close to what it looked like, and I was running right into it.  Talk about an uplifting and inspiring sight for a 5:30 AM run!  It made the slogging about in the rain and wind totally worth it.  It also made me want to stop every single car that passed me on the road, pound my fist on the driver's side window and yell, "HEY!  LOOK TO YOUR LEFT!  IT'S A RAINBOW!" while jumping excitedly up and down, but I refrained lest I a) get hit by the car, or b) get hauled away to the looney bin.

It's the small things, really, that keep me sane.

Today's weigh-in was 145.8.  Down a little more today.  I have taken to entering in my daily weigh-ins into Garmin Connect so I can get a groovy graph.  Here's what it looks like so far (with the first measurement taken on 5/10/2013):

Ziggity-zaggity-zig.  At least by keeping track of my weight I'll get a good picture of what's normal for me throughout a month.  Hopefully after a while the best-fit line will have a negative slope, if you know what I mean.  And you should, if you remember anything from your algebra classes.

photo credit: The Uprooted Photographer via photopin cc

Yes, I love speed work. Well, I love it after it's over.

Yesterday I cross-trained like a fiend.  16.5 miles on the bike followed by 40 minutes of upper-body weight work (lifting heavy), and then wrapped up with 10 minutes of abs/core work.

It's nice that I have the time to leisurely work out for 2 hours a day now.  Although I think I went a little too heavy on the weights, seeing as I haven't been lifting consistently for a few weeks.  My entire upper body is quite sore this morning, including my armpits.  It's the chest work that always nails me the worst.

I have to say that I am really starting to enjoy the cycling, even though yesterday we had some gloomy rainy weather through which I was pedaling.  I am still experimenting with the gears, and finally found a combo that had me cruising quite comfortably at around 17 mph.  Let me tell you that is much much much faster than I used to go on my old Target special.  The road bike has been a very nice cross-training/duathlon investment.

Because the legs were feeling good after yesterday's cross-training (active recovery?), I decided to do some speed work this morning.  I grabbed my favorite half-marathon training plan and decided to do the week one intervals (1 x 1200, 2 x 800, 4 x 400).  So, I grabbed my new spotted cow running shorts and headed outside.

Testing these babies out for Ragnar Chicago!

I love speed work.  Specifically, I love doing short intervals.  Why?  Let me count the ways:

• Running fast is fun.  Reminds me of all the impromptu races we used to "organize" in the neighborhood as a kid.
• It helps me nail down the more rapid turnover you need to do faster running. You gotta get your legs used to the rhythm of faster running.
• It challenges me to challenge myself (Does that make sense? Probably not.).  I always come out on the other side of speed work feeling triumphant, not beaten like I do sometimes with tempos.
• I feel like I run more efficiently and with better form when running faster.  Sometimes when I'm injured and do faster running, the injury starts going away rather than getting worse.  My body is weird like that.
• The return on investment is huge.  Once, when I trained for a 10K in which the training included lots of crazy speed work, I didn't run it as fast as I wanted to run it (It was freaking cold.  February in Illinois, you know).  However, about 3 weeks afterwards I ran a 5K and PRd the freaking thing with a pace that my brain thought was insane but my body now found pretty comfortable.  It takes a long time to see the benefits, but if you are doing this consistently (and safely by not sprinting on every single interval), you will see huge gains.

Now if I can only find the joy in tempo work....for my next round of marathon training, we're going to work on mixing up the longer-distance speed work.  Doing an 8.5 mile tempo every Thursday will drive me more bonkers than I already am.

On the weight front today, I was 146.2.  Down from yesterday, but I did fit nicely into a size 4 pair of shorts this morning (I have been a size 6 as of late), so I'm feeling pretty good about that.  I am also feeling good about a half marathon being held in South Bend, IN this weekend that I just signed up to run yesterday. I want to do my long run in a race atmosphere this weekend as a part of my reverse taper up to my Ragnars.  Impulsive?  Absolutely.  Crazy because I have to run a Ragnar the next week?  Quite possibly.

But will I have fun crossing the finish line (no matter what my time) at the 50 yard line of the Notre Dame stadium?  You better freaking believe it.

Stinky race shirts and goofy pics with the hubbs.

After my race on Saturday, I went for a slow 5 mile run yesterday.  My right hammie was sore and I had some tight hip flexors, so I was trying just to shake loose any of that stiffness on the run.

What I did shake loose was a lot of phlegm instead.  I don't know about any of you, but after a while I get sick of being sick.  And I get tired of coming home from a run with my sunglasses and shirt covered in snot. Enough with the sickness already, body--get over it.

What I can't get over is the smell of the race t-shirt.  I have had this happen a few times before--get a cool race shirt, and then it stinks to high heaven.  The hubbs says it is from the silk-screening, but I'm not sure.  I have washed it one time already and it still reeks; I may have to wash it about 3,000 more times.  But it is cute:

It has a nice v-neck collar.  Too bad it's stinky.

As far as my eating plan goes, yesterday I deviated from it.  Why?  Because I forgot to bring my own food and let myself get ravenous in the afternoon.  I attended my last graduation at my old school, so I was a little busy.

I brought an apple with me, but it was locked in my husband's office the entire time.  After the ceremony was over I raced back to his office and horked down that apple, along with some candy I found.  In fact, I was pretty much inhaling any food I could find, whether it be good or bad--I had let myself get that hungry.

Shame on me.  

In between inhaling food, the hubbs and I took some time to take a picture together, since it is rare that we are dressed up and in the same room at the same time:

It is also rare that we take a picture that makes us look anywhere near sane.  See what 16 (18 in the case of the hubbs) years of being in education does to you?

After we were done being stupid, we headed out to dinner at Famous Dave's, a barbeque place that we both love.  I don't know why I feel guilty about eating there; I had a salad, a very small portion of mac and cheese (it has jalapenos in it!  Joy!), and a hamburger.  I wanted to eat meat because it is a food with brakes, and the brakes were firmly applied after finishing the burger.  However, I ignored the brakes and had some banana pudding afterwards for dessert.  As a result, I felt miserable during the movie we went to after dinner (Star Trek: Into Darkness).  I must remember that feeling next time I am tempted to indulge.

I didn't want to get on the scale this morning after last night's overeating extravaganza, but I made myself confront the brutal facts.  It read 146.8, up a pound from yesterday.  Upsetting, but expected.  I just have to get back on track this week, and I should be fine.  Also, I will be ramping up my training this week in preparation for Ragnar Chicago, so I will be burning off more calories than normal.

Let's hope I can burn some numbers off the scale as well.

Elgin FoxTrot 10 Mile Race: I really really really wanted to blow my nose.

Today I ran the Elgin FoxTrot 10 mile race.  I have run this one before in 2011 when it was obnoxiously hot and every water station also had towels soaking in ice water (AWESOME), and it was the first race I ran after running my very first half-marathon.  I ran with a buddy back then, and we took it slow because I was having a neuroma flare-up and he was having hamstring issues.

At the time, I was really more focused on our heat-induced and injury-riddled misery than the race itself.  Especially since we weren't racing it-we were running it.

And I didn't really race it this year.  Still being recovery from my marathon, I didn't want to push it and get injured, especially since Ragnar Chicago is right around the corner.  But I also didn't want to push it because of this chest cold which is still lingering in the ol' lungs.

So I decided to use this as a training run--my long run for the day, but pushing the pace faster than I would if I were running amongst the farm animals and open fields like I normally do.  I know some people feel you shouldn't do a race unless you actually train for it and run like a bat out of hell every time, but I disagree.  I think races can be used for those runs in which you want to run faster than usual but have a hard time actually doing that on your own without the thrill and competition of other racers around you.

I also think races can be used to practice a future marathon pace...say for a marathon that I am signed up for in October.  And say a pace between 9 and 9:30.....just sayin'.

Anyway, the race started on time at 7:30 A.M. and the weather was perfect: temps in the 40s and no wind.  As I stood in the pack at the starting line waiting for the gun to go off, everyone around me kept talking about how hilly the course was.  (I could hear them, you see, because I forgot my freaking iPod.  Angh.)  I didn't remember any huge hills from when I ran it two years ago, but I was taking their word for it and getting all freaky-deaky about those hills.

We hit a nice hill in the first 0.3 miles, and then we kept rolling up and down them throughout the course.  In fact, here's what the elevation profile of this course looked like (with my speed right along with it):

But, really, those hills were nothing compared to the one I had to run whilst in Tennessee doing a Ragnar:

All hills since that time have been compared to Monteagle.  And not one of them have come close to the 4 miles or so of crazy mental zanies I went through just to keep going up that hill just to hand off the slap bracelet to the next runner who got to run down the hill. 

So let's all just stop freaking out about these bumps people around here call "hills."

Most of the race I felt pretty good; my breathing was never out of control, and I backed off when I felt it starting to get all crazy wheezy.  I managed a 1:34:05 finish time, so about a 9:25 pace.  My chest was more full of junk than I thought it was from the chest cold, and I kept coughing for the first 3 miles (and for about 10 minutes after I crossed the finish line). 

But really all I wanted to do was blow my nose.  They need to have kleenex at all water stops.

I have written before about what a snot machine I am when I start running (and biking is even worse; I am a human hagfish on the bike), but when I'm sick the slime coming out of my nose reaches epically gross proportions.  Since I try not to snot rocket during a race, I was sucking in the nose slime until mile 8, where I just couldn't stand it any longer and let one loose along the side of the road.  Well, I meant to do it along the side of the road, but ended up blowing it all over the bottom of my shirt.  Fabulous.  I then literally sucked it up for the remaining few miles until I crossed the finish line, got to my car, and all snot broke loose in the parking lot.  It's one of the joys of running, people.  Truly majestic and inspiring.

Since my official race photographer slept in until 10:30 A.M. today (it's like he got up and ran 10 miles and was really tired.  Not.), this was the best I could do:

This was taken after the post-race snot incident.  Be glad you can't see that part of my face.

Weigh-in info:  I was at 145.4 this morning, so the weight seems to be coming down a bit.  Maybe the sickness made my body hoard the poundage.  I am doing OK with my eating, although I did splurge and have these SmartFood corn thingies in a sour cream and onion flavor so strong I fear I will be burping up that taste for eternity.  I've been being much better about finding recipes and cooking at home; it's all about building habits, isn't it?  Like blowing your nose when snot starts to run out onto your face.

Just a short boring little post with an ugly bruise picture.

Not much to report today, other than the fact that I am still annoyingly in the 146's for my weight.  However, my body fat percentage dropped from 26.1% to 24.4% overnight.  It's a miracle!  (Or maybe the scale needs to be calibrated.)

And here's an update on my bruised and battered knee:

'Scuse my cluttered desk.

Looks horrible, doesn't it?  But it doesn't hurt anymore.

I went for a nice 3 mile run this morning.  It was cooler and not so humid, and I felt better this morning.  Better, not perfect, as I found out when I tried to run a little faster.  My lungs were having none of it, and kicked it down a notch.  I wasn't upset, however, because it was just nice to run--and run when the sun is rising is always an awesome sight to see.

But I am nervous because I have a 10 mile race on Saturday.  It's the FoxTrot in Elgin, a race for which I have always been injured in the past.  One year I ran it injured, a decision I regretted for the next few weeks.  It is a scenic but hilly race, and this year it looks to be cool rather than hot, sticky, and humid.  I plan on running it at about a 9 or 9:30 pace, and then run 4 more miles afterwards to make it a 14 miler for the day.

Then next weekend I will run a 16....and then it's Ragnar, baby!

Getting better.

Last night I finally got some good sleeps with this cold.  That's because I actually took medicine to help me sleep.  As far as I am concerned, NyQuil liquicaps are the best thing on God's green Earth right now.  Although it did not stop me from having weird dreams about kangaroos, aliens invading the Earth, and haunted warehouses.  Thank God those weren't all in the same dream.

After a good night's sleep, I woke up still pretty stuffed up.  Yesterday I took the day off from working out, but today I felt I needed to do something.  So I suited up and trotted outside for a very slow (11:27/mile) 2 mile run.

It was exactly what I needed.  (Although trying to snot rocket while you're sick and running is an adventure all unto itself, let me tell you.)  I am feeling mucho better today.

I felt even better this morning when I finally got ahold of my run splits from the duathlon I ran on Saturday:

• 1st 2 mile run: 13:23 (6:41/mile)
• 2nd 2 mile run: 15:23 (7:41/mile)

Holy schlamoly.  I have never ever in my life had recorded times like that.  My first instinct is to write them and tell them their timing system is all screwed up.

Remember, I ran this duathlon without my Garmin because I was so nervous I forgot it.  So I was totally running by feel on those miles, and basically my feeling was, "I WOULD REALLY LIKE TO STOP RUNNING NOW."  But I kept telling myself it was only 2 miles, so I pushed through to the end.  The issue with running the second 2 miles was that you have those weird bike legs and you can't really tell how fast you're running.  Well, I can't, anyway.

And here I was worried that marathon training made me all slow and stuff.  Still have to work on that biking though...took me almost 50 minutes, and that included the transition.  Oy.

As far as my weigh-in goes, I was up again today-146.8.  My body fat percentage went up as well, jumping to a 26.2%.  This can only mean a few things:

1. My eating manifesto needs a complete overhaul
2. My body is hoarding nutrients because I am sick and have been reducing my exercise
3. NyQuil contains about 6,000 calories that are not reported on the side of the package

I'm going to give it a few more days, and then probably overhaul my eating plan.  We shall see.  Until then, I will leave you with a joyous picture of me on my last day of school before I embark on my journey as an administrator:

Gotta love that shirt, too. ;)

Looking at all of the data.

I did some upper-body weight work today (Muscle Endurance by Cathe) because I thought after racing two races in one weekend my legs needed a day off.

For once I look like a real runner!

I have been concerned about my numbers on my racing bibs, but I have been awash in other numbers lately.  But apparently I have been looking at the wrong numbers.

I have been weighing myself while I am currently ill with this chest cold; today's weight was a 146.2.  I was so ill this morning that I couldn't have cared what the scale said; I just did it out of sheer habit.  After a busy day of sitting and scoring student videos I was a tad more awake (thanks, Sudafed!), so when I came home I got on the scale again.

Now, I know better than  to expect a weight loss between the beginning and the end of the day.  I started weighing myself in the evening to measure my body fat (my scale has that function) about 2 weeks ago, because I know you need all the data you can get to draw viable and valid conclusions.  When I started my eating manifesto, it read 25.2%.

Today it read 22.8%.

I know there's a margin of error with these scales, but there is inaccuracy with any measuring device out there.  But I think a 2.4% drop might be significant; plus, the drop has been consistent over these last two weeks.

Interesting.  I better start looking at all of the data.

I ran a 10K and I'm sick. Bleh.

This morning I ran the 10K at the Rockford Marathon.

This 10K was a lovely flat course that took you right along the Rock River on either side and then finished with a nice downhill to the finish line.  I ran it.  I didn't race it.  I was helping a friend run her first 10K, which she did successfully.  She crossed the finish line strong:

Besides, I couldn't have raced it if I tried.  This chest cold has passed from the merely annoying stage to the "holy cow what did I just cough up" stage.  I was wiped out after running this morning (even if it was just 11 minute miles), and crashed for 2 hours afterwards.  So much for grading student projects; getting my oil changed, grocery shopping, and gassing up the car for the week trumped that.  Oh, and writing this blog post did, too.

My weight loss has kind of taken a back seat while I am ill.  I did weigh myself this morning (146.0), but am thinking this weight loss had to do with my illness.  I kind of ate a little too much today, but I'm not feeling guilty about it.  I'll feel guilty about it when I'm not hacking up things with colors from another dimension.

Beloit Wellness Duathlon Race Recap (I mean "Biathlon.")

I almost didn't go to my duathlon this morning.

I woke up with that deep, scratchy itchy chest cough you get right before you start hacking up both of your lungs the next day.  I am getting sick.  I blame it all on my dirty student netbooks and the baby I held yesterday afternoon.  You just can't trust babies, man.

Anyway, I considered ditching it altogether and resting up for a 10K I am running with a friend tomorrow (and running 8 miles after that when I get home-Ragnar!).  But then I thought about all the time and effort my husband put in this week putting up with me and my biking exploits, so I knew if I didn't go he would kill me.  Well, maybe not kill me.  Maim me while making it look like an accident, maybe.

So the hubbs and I hauled our butts up to Beloit for the Beloit Wellness Biathlon (really a duathlon, but they refuse to change the name) held at Beloit Memorial Hospital.   We got there super early because, for some reason, whenever I go to Wisconsin I think it is super far away because it is another state.  Beloit is only a 30 minute drive from my house, however, so we got there about 2 hours early.  The hubbs was not pleased, but it just gave me time to scope out the situation and get acclimated.  And start freaking out about the transitions.

Me after setting up my transition area.  Sexy sexy.

I think I asked about everyone I could find about where to set up, what the runs were like, what the bike course was like....I should have just written "Newbie" on my forehead and just pointed to it whenever I encountered someone.  I was nervous, nervous, nervous. I hit the port-a-john about 4 times, the last time being about 2 minutes before the first heat's start time.  Thankfully I was in the 2nd heat, so I raced over to the start line right before my heat began.

And then, we were off on our first run:

Run #1:

The two miles seemed to take longer than usual.  But I wouldn't know because I FORGOT MY GARMIN AT HOME (Along with my purse!  See how anxious I was about this?) so I was running by how I felt.  But, considering what a slave I am to my Garmin, it was probably a good thing to run by feel today and monitor what my body was telling me instead of ignoring it in favor of what some machine on my wrist was telling me.    I must have really been pushing it OR my lungs were sicker than I thought, because I had never ever been more happy to stop running as I came into.....

Transition #1:

All I have to say is that I am glad I brought my bright-ass orange beach towel; it made it very easy to spot my bike when coming into the transition area.  I was actually happy to take a running break, and I was very much looking forward to getting on the bike.  This transition was slow but smooth, and I did remember that I wanted to put my helmet on before anything else.  The only issue became running with my bike shoes out to the road in order to mount the bike.

I don't know if you're aware of this, but it is hard to run in bike shoes without looking like a complete moron.

It's like walking in shoes with heels under your toes rather than, well, under your heels.

Trying to get the toe clip in so I can get started.

I had a minor issue getting both of my toes clipped in, but I managed it without falling over and injuring myself this time.  After I got going, it was now time for an...

11-mile bike ride:

This was a nice course.  There were a few hills to make it interesting (and one overpass you went over twice), and you did get to ride out in the Wisconsin countryside (which looks suspiciously like the Illinois countryside.  Those copycats.)  The last 4 miles or so were straight into the wind, and I shifted down to take some of the stress off my legs and calves I could feel building.  I was worried I wouldn't know where to go out there, but there were volunteers at every turn pointing you the correct way.  When I got back to the Hospital grounds I impressed myself with remembering to take my toes out of the toe clips at the bike stop line.  After you dismount, you have to run into the transition area quite a ways....if I had to complain about anything, that would be it.  But it's just because I chose to run in my bike shoes which, as I have pointed out previously, is hard to do.  But it's what I had to do to get to....

Transition #2:

I didn't really want to do the 2nd run.  I was tired.  I was getting sick.  It was hot.  But I don't quit.  So I threw on my running shoes (which seemed to take forever), switched out my helmet with my hat.  This transition went much, much faster, except for the time I was struggling a bit to get out of my bike shoes:

So off I went, running on my weird-feeling bike legs:

And headed straight into....

Run #2:

Like I said, I really didn't want to do this.  But off I went, not really feeling my pace because my legs were all crazy from the bike.  I was pretty cranky at this point.  In fact, the hubbs got a nice close-up shot of my run #2 crankiness:

I am yelling at him in the photograph.  He tries to cheer me on by saying, "Go, Terie!" every time he sees me in a race.  I guess I had had enough, because I told him he had to think of something different to say.  I apologized later, but told him that this was like childbirth--I cannot be held responsible for anything that comes out of my mouth at the end of a run or duathlon.  After that initial bout of unprofessionalism on my part, the run went OK.  It wasn't pretty, but it got done (even as I thought hateful thoughts as I ran past a street named "Easy Street").  I was wheezing kind of badly at that point because my lungs decided to remind me that I was sick, and helpful volunteers stared at me with concern, reminding me that I was ALMOST THERE!!!!

The hubbs shot a really nice video of my finish, but he hasn't sent it to me yet, so I guess we're all going to have to wait on that.  I estimated my finish time at around 1:15 or later based on my "training" this week (I don't know if you could call it that since I just decided to run this last weekend), but I came in at 1:08:26.  I was pretty stoked about that (and am waiting anxiously for the results to be posted so I can see my splits!).  I was also happy that I pushed myself in that last run.  But the icing on the cake came when I realized I had placed 2nd in my age group:

This is most likely because the Rockford Marathon is tomorrow and people are taking their easy days today, so the real racers didn't show up.  According to last year's results, I wouldn't have come anywhere near placing with the time I got.  But, all's well that ends well, and this race was just the confidence-booster I needed to get me to sign up for my next one.

Now just to decide what that next one will be....after all, I spent gobs of cash on this bike. It needs to be taken to more races.

My caution to the wind-throwing.

Today's weigh-in: 145.6  Up from yesterday.  Not sure what's causing the increase, but I think my clothes are looser these days (can't be sure until I try on some more "reference clothing."  But the capris I wore to work today are looser than I remember them being in the past).  I know better than to freak out when the number on the scale goes up but the clothes are starting to sag.

I have some stupid fears.  For example, I fear calling or emailing people I don't know well.  I fear asking salespeople at bike stores for help.  I fear making left turns across two lanes of traffic.

We all have our little fear crosses to bear.  But I have decided today that my itty bitty stupid fears shall rule me no more.  I will no longer be afraid to communicate with other people in ways that other people normally communicate fear-free. I'm throwing caution to the wind and throwing myself out there, me potentially looking like a total idiot (and the potential is quite high all the time) be damned.

Part of my new-found caution to the wind-throwing is running my next Ragnar in cow-spotted running shorts:

Your jealousy is palpable.

Our team name is "How Now Spotted Cow."  I don't really dig running in costumes, but I love crazy patterns, so I will run in these. I got them at Running Funky, and they have all of your basic running gear in a lot of annoying fabrics, which I love.  Their shipping was pretty fast, and they sent me a free pen--they now have a customer for life.

Another piece of my caution to the wind-throwing is not being afraid of this duathlon I've gotten myself into on Saturday.  I don't fear the running, and I don't fear the biking--what I fear most are the transitions.  Specifically, I fear that I will be slow and get run over before I get to the mount/dismount line for the biking part.  To get over this fear, I will be practicing my transitions tomorrow (on the grass this time, so as to avoid any body parts contacting the gravel again and blood pouring forth from my body).

I went on a nice 10-mile ride today to try out the cycling jersey I got yesterday, but I could tell my legs were tired and need the day off tomorrow.  If I feel the need to do something in the morning I may get up and do a short easy run before I practice transitioning in my front yard.  The sight of me running over and over again to my bike, putting on my gear, and running a few yards with my bike only to turn around and do it over again should give them something new to talk about.  Currently they talk about the crazy lady who runs and then gets on a bike and runs again in the wee hours of the morning.

Hopefully this crazy lady won't end up doing this on Saturday:

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why I purchased a better helmet.



photo credit: eldan via photopin cc

I didn't eat my way through the afternoon. For once.

Today's weigh-in:  145.2 lbs.  Down from yesterday, up from the weekend.  Not by much though.  I didn't feel as skinny today as I did yesterday; I think the lack of sleep is catching up to me.

After I weighed in and had breakfast, I did a duathlon race simulation, doing a 1.5 mile run, an 8 mile bike, and another 1.5 mile run.  It's amazing how after you do a marathon a 1.5 mile run is pretty damn short to you, so mentally those runs aren't that challenging.  The second run after the bike takes a bit of getting used to after you hop off the bike and back on terra firma, but I'm usually OK after about 400 meters.

The bike portion was a little slower today, but the bike shoes and toe clips were much, much easier to manage.  Like I tell my students, fail often to succeed sooner--and I failed a hell of a lot yesterday so I could succeed this morning.  Here's the aftermath of yesterday's falls while trying to get my toe clips clipped and start some sort of forward motion that ended up going downward toward the ground instead:

It looks way worse than it is.  But I have a hard time bending that knee in a squat position because it feels like I am going to rip that wound on the front of my leg wide open again.  Good times.

Because I have a duathlon in a few days, I decided I also needed to dress the part and buy some actual cycling clothing so I would fit it until they actually saw me ride on the bike (or at least try to get my toes clipped in).

The one with sleeves is made by Primal, and the sleeveless one is made by Zoot.  The latter one intrigues me, because it has a sports bra built right into the sucker.  I will have to try it out tomorrow morning when I do my final duathlon workout, which will consist of a 2 mile run, a 10 mile bike, and a 2 mile run.  On Friday I am resting because my butt is incredibly sore from biking so damn much this week (oh, and to give my legs a rest before I actually do this thing).  I don't like to wear my cycling shorts on the bike and then run in them; frankly, I feel like I have a load in my pants while I waddle down the road trying to get my running legs back from my biking legs.

But enough about loads.  Today I had a facial after work and I reek of lavender facial stuff they rubbed all over my face.  That meant I had to drive at breakneck speed from my place of employment to the spa.  I then had an hour long facial (deee-LICIOUS!) and then did a little shopping in town.  I then drove home.

Why am I giving you a boring play-by-play of my after work hours?  Because I want you to notice that nowhere in there was eating involved.  Not once.  I had my apple after school and then got all the way home without once thinking about eating.

Not once.  This is a big deal for me.

During marathon training, all I could think about was eating after work, and eat I would, about every half hour.  If I was going anywhere after work, I used it as an excuse to pick up something questionable and eat it for dinner, telling myself I would eat healthier tomorrow to make up for it.  Or I would come straight home from work and grab the hubbs' bags of unhealthy snacks and down them as if I were going to get caught any moment.

But I didn't do any of that today; the urge just wasn't there anymore.  Some bad habits are getting broken.  I just have to remember not to fall back into them.

So, instead of eating my way through town, I took pictures of these crazy clouds:

Much more aesthetically pleasing than watching me plow through a Jimmy John's sandwich.

Gravity Lessons

I tried out my new bike today (a Trek Lexa) in this crazy 90 degree weather we're having (I just knew Mother Nature would skip spring this year.  That *BLEEP*.)  My knees and shins tried out the gravel driveway after I experimented with my bike shoes:

That sucker wouldn't stop bleeding.

So now my knees and left shin are super sore from this thing called "gravity" and "my body hitting the ground and my bike hitting my body."  Why do I take up new sports that only serve to remind me why I was never in sports in high school or college?

Those bike shoes will not defeat me.  I will learn how to clip them on AND start pedaling forward at the same time.  Dammit.  (But methinks I will be using the regular pedals and running shoes for my duathlon on Saturday.  Just to be on the safe side of my knees; after all, I gotta Ragnar it up in the month of June.)

But let's talk about today's weigh-in.  It was up from yesterday, 145.6 lbs.  It was probably because I stayed up last night all geeking out in an educational Twitter chat and only got about 5 hours of sleep.

But even though I got up weighing more, I felt much slimmer today.  Skinnier.  Better.  I wore a dress today that, 3 weeks ago, I felt like a total cow wearing.  My eyeballs may be fooling me, but all of this eating real food and  sticking with food with brakes and eating green things called vegetables is starting to pay off in ways the numbers on the scales can't measure.  And just after 2 weeks.

Even if they are fooling me, I'll believe that delusion for now.  I'll take all of the motivation I can get.

Food with brakes.

I woke up today and the scale was back up to 145.2 pounds, probably due to what happened last night.

Last night I went out to dinner.

It was Mother's Day, and we were celebrating actual mothers in the family (the hubbs' two sisters that live in the area).  We went to one of my favorite restaurants, The Machine Shed in Rockford, IL.  It features meat, meat, and more meat on the menu, with downhome country cookin' as its draw to get customers in the door.

The food can only be described as orgiastic.  It's that good.  Piles of meat and potatoes with gravy everywhere, man.

Which is why I approached the meal with more than a little trepidation; I mean, this place does not fit AT ALL into my eating manifesto.  I was worried I wouldn't be able to keep my eating under control.  So I decided exactly what I was going to eat before I got there:

• A salad.
• A BBQ Brisket sandwich with sweet potato fries.   (And they always put too much meat on the sandwich, so I knew I would take some off.)

That decision saved me.

You see, this place brings you free food before your food.  Cole slaw, cottage cheese, and a basket of buttery warm rolls and sweet bread.  Plus, the people with which I was eating ordered appetizers before their actual entrees as well.

There was way too much food before the food.  But I was steadfast through all of the food, telling the waitress to bring my salad when the appetizers came.  As the plates of fried food of all kinds (chicken, shrimp, and even cheese) were shuffled around the table, I sat there quietly, staring down into my salad and trying to keep up with the conversation.

When my entree came, I ate about half of the fries and then started in on the sandwich after I had taken a strip of brisket off of it.  I ate my sandwich, but felt like I was going to burst at the end.  It was then that I wondered how everyone else could have eaten so much around me, yet I was full after eating much less.

A friend of mine recently recommended the book, It Starts With Food.  I'm about a third of the way through it, but I like it so far.  It's full of sciencey goodness related to eating (most of which I know already, so I zippity-zipped through it), but there is a phrase that they use in this book to describe the types of food you should be eating: "Food with brakes."

In the book, meat is considered a food with a brake; in other words, it is one which fills you up and gets you to stop eating.  And believe me, I felt stuffed by the time I finished that sandwich.  I couldn't eat another bite--I didn't even want dessert, which is highly unusual for a sugar addict such as myself.

A lot of my dinner companions couldn't finish their own meat-and-gravy-laden entrees either.  Maybe it was the meat that did us all in.

But I am happy that I made a decision before I left about what I would eat and I stuck to it.  Even if I am up 0.2 lbs today, it could have been a lot worse (you should have seen me pile it in after a 20 mile training run).  I was tempted to run again today because of that slight increase, but wiser heads prevailed and I went down and lifted instead.

My upper body is pretty much ablaze with soreness right now.  Not my best decision all day, but at least I know I am making more right ones with my eating lately than wrong ones.

There is bacon in this blog post.

Today I went on a 10 mile run.  It was really windy (16 mph winds), but the warmth and sun made up for that.  I was wearing one of my favorite race t-shirts and my screaming neon yellow running capris, and I was stoked that I didn't have to wear gloves.  But it wasn't a typical 10-mile run for me.

I was feeling pretty darn spectacular the entire time.  I felt really strong in mile 8, which is odd for me.  Even though I had to slow down when I was running head-on into that crazy wind (my stupid fault for not looking at the wind direction when planning my route), I felt good the whole time.

I felt strong.

I remember my first 10 mile run.  I felt like my knees were going to secede from my body, and it about destroyed me physically (But not mentally!  I was pretty pumped!).  I remember struggling to do 12 minute miles.  I remember how hard it was to finish that 10th mile, trudging down the street with my quads like cinder blocks, throwing my legs out in front of me and hoping like hell my legs wouldn't decide to stop before I did.

Today's run felt easy.  It's amazing what four months of marathon training will do.

My next round of marathon training starts on June 16th, this time for Twin Cities.  Let's see how much stronger I can get.

But I know you all are just dying to know what my weigh-in was like this morning, so I'll shut-up and just show you the picture:

So, in a week, this means I have lost 2 pounds--just by cooking at home.  My husband and I did go out yesterday before we went bike shopping (more on that in a later post), but I had oatmeal, fruit, and a strip of bacon that will make all other bacon hang its head in shame:

Oink.

The only reason I had a strip was because I realized that my meal had no protein in it whatsoever.  Since I am technically still recovering from my marathon, I have been very protein-conscious this past week.

Thus, I feel my week has begun in a pretty groovy way, on both the exercise and eating fronts.  Let's see if I can sustain the strength throughout this week, as I come to the slow realization that I have only 2 short weeks left at my current place of employment.

Dog pictures plus my first run-bike-run workout.

I got an early start this Saturday morning, mainly because my dogs like to wake us up several times while we are sleeping to take them out on the weekends.  They are old, cranky, and demanding dogs, and we are but mere slaves to their every whim.

"Dad.  Out of bed.  NOW."

Cranky old Sasha.

"In 5 minutes I will bark at you and you will do my bidding,  Slave."

After obeying the will of the dogs, at 7 A.M. I was out the door, ready to try this whole duathlon workout I had concocted (1 mile run, 5 mile bike, 1 mile run).  Not warming up at all (stupid), I booked a 9 minute mile, coming back to the house to get my bike.  I was impressed with myself that I remembered to wear my helmet for once, and took off for my 5 mile ride.

Well, I thought it would be a 5 mile ride.  Because I was totally caught up in the fact that I was riding straight into high winds, I was focused more on my suffering than the distance I was actually traveling.  I meant to do 2.5 miles out and back, but didn't notice my watch until about the 2.8 mile mark.  So, I decided just to go out to 3 miles and then turn around, bumping my ride up to 6 miles.

My cycling experience between miles 4.5-5.5 sucked.  There's no other way to describe it.  I was biking straight on into 16-20 mph winds, my quads were heavy and tired, and it was an uphill mile.  I was cycling in a very low gear just to survive.  It is amazing how much the wind affects your quads; as soon as I turned to face the east and the wind was at my back, riding became so much easier and I could crank it up into a higher gear to make up some lost speed.

After I jumped off the bike for my last run, it took me about a quarter of a mile to get my running legs back and not feel as if I was a big overweight penguin waddling down the road.  But I busted out about an 8:20 mile, so I was pretty happy with that.  I was especially happy that the last half-mile was not straight into the wind.

For my first duathlon-esque workout, it was pretty fun, despite the wind.  The variety really does help me mentally get through it, because this type of workout naturally breaks itself into segments to be conquered.  I think getting a new bike actually designed for this type of thing will help; the hubbs and I are going shopping today to lay out an obscene amount of cash for one.

While my workout was exciting today, what excited me more was seeing this right after I woke up:

Down from 146.2 yesterday.  This means I have lost almost 1.5 pounds in a week.  The hubbs suspects water weight, and no doubt that some of it is due to that.  But no matter what the cause, I'll take it.  I feel better, I have slept better, and my runs have been much better this week.  This whole eating better thing may just catch on with me again.

Decisions, decisions.

I weighed myself this morning, and the scale is still stuck at 142.2 lbs.  I will spare you all another picture of my veiny feet in my bathroom that has been in a state of remodel for the past 7 years. (Yes, seven.)

Weighing myself every morning is really holding me accountable.  It is helping me make better decisions during the day.  For example:

Decision #1:  Lunch.

Today was a half day for my students, and afterwards us teachers got professionally developed for the rest of the day.  But before the development began, the school graciously served us some lunch.  It looked really good and smelled really good, but it was not on my eating manifesto.  I badly wanted to crash the lunch line, but resisted that urge, thinking of the scale this morning.  Instead, I ate the lunch I made this morning like a good little weight-loss girl.

Decision #2: Dinner.

It's Friday.  I was tempted after school to run down to my husband's office and ask him if he wanted to go shopping with me....and then go out to dinner.  But then I thought of all the crap I would eat and how I would just feel guilty when I got on the scale in the morning, and thought the better of it.  I also have a lot of food I cooked still sitting in the fridge, and I can't justify going out when it is there waiting for me in all its delicious leftover glory.

Some may find weighing yourself every day to be a bit obsessive.  I call it "smart weight management."

Anyhoo, on to the exercise portion of today's post.  I got up wanting to run, but then decided against it to give my Achilles weirdness another day to settle.  Instead, I busted out a Cathe fave of mine that I didn't do during marathon training because of the high impact nature of some of the moves: Circuit Blast.

I like this workout because the cardio is effective (hello high-impact jumping moves-o-rama) and is combined with compound weight exercises and core work to really do a nice job of hitting it all in about 45 minutes.  I had my sweat on after this workout.  Although they use a full-size step, I used a mini-step instead because that's the only step I have with that many risers.  It only became an issue on one move (wide box jumps) in the last round of exercises, and then I just do regular box jumps instead.  A box jump is a box jump is a box jump--they all burn the thighs after about 6 reps.

But tomorrow's workout has been planned for me ever since I signed up to do a duathlon next Saturday.  This is something I wanted to do last year but chickened out because I didn't know how to handle the transitions.  It's a 2 mile run, 11 mile bike, and a 2 mile run, so it looks like something I can handle if I practice a bit this week on my run days incorporating some biking as well.

And I'm going to start tomorrow with a 1 mile run, 5 mile bike, 1 mile run workout.  I'll be sure to let you all know how it goes, along with any accompanying reassessment of my sanity for even signing up for this in the first place.

Eating to be healthy? Pffffft.

This week I resumed working out.  Not full-bore training, but some easier workouts to build up into more of a training-esque schedule next week so I can start preparing for Ragnar Chicago.

Our 2012 Ragnar team--my first Ragnar ever.

I have to tell you it is totally weird not having a schedule on a piece of paper be the boss of me; after 16 weeks of being told what to do by an 8 x 11 piece of dead tree with some ink on it, I was cast adrift this week, having to actually decide for myself what workout to do.  Being made to think so much at 4 AM when I get up kind of sucks.

Anyway, I ran on Tuesday and Wednesday because the weather at 5 AM was fanFREAKINGtastic.  No wind, upper 40s/50s, and sunny because the sun is actually coming up at this time (or starting to, anyway).

These are the runs for which I have been waiting.  The runs that I daydreamed about during 20 miles in the cold wind and snow in February where I ran in 4 layers of clothing.  The runs that should have come when spring well...you know...was supposed to come.  Not that I'm bitter or anything.

I haven't been focusing on my pace at all this week and just running by what feels good.  Apparently what feels good is around a 9 minute mile, which is pretty awesome methinks after running a first marathon.  And what's weird is that these small bursts (4 or 5 miles) of faster running actually made my piriformis issues disappear this week.  However, my Achilles twanging as I go up and down steps is back with a vengeance.  I found a sore spot on my soleus that I massaged and foam rolled the snot out of this week, and it seems to be getting better.  All I know is that every time my Achilles twangs its way up the steps I want to cringe because the feeling is SO DAMN STRANGE and you never want to feel it EVER AGAIN.

Because of that strangeness, I rode the bike this morning for 10 miles. Since it was gorgeous weather again I took it outside, leaving the bike in a much higher gear than I normally do by accident (I forgot to crank it back down at the end of my last ride).  I didn't notice it until the 5th mile, and, by that time, I just decided to leave it alone and see what happened.  I think my quads may have gotten a tad bit stronger out of all that high-mileage running that is marathon training, which is good to know.

The goal for the next few weeks is to not tear the hell out of any more of my body parts so I can actually run a Ragnar without some injury nagging me.  Well, that's my exercise goal.  My eating goal is to be down at least 4 pounds by Ragnar Chicago, which is on June 7th-8th this year.  This morning's weigh-in wasn't in line with that goal:

Plywood = My house is being remodeled.  Still.  After 7 years.

But it was only 0.2 lbs gained.  That was probably higher because:

a) I went to bed at 10:00 PM instead of 7:30.  It has been bandied about that lack of sleep causes weight gain, and that may be more true of the long term than one night.  However, thinking back to when I used to weigh myself regularly in the past, after a night of shortened sleep I always came in at a slightly higher poundage.  So I'm not really worried about this.

b) It's a normal fluctuation for some other silly reason.

I know it wasn't because of my eating over the past few days, because I have really been sticking to the ol' eating manifesto.  This may all be in my head, but I have been feeling pretty good these last few days--better than I did when eating crap.  If eating like this is what's putting more pep in my workouts, then I think I have the motivation I need to keep going.  

Because who cares about that whole "eating real food because it makes you healthy" crap anyway, huh?

Food for thought.

I only have time for a quick post this evening, so I won't waste your time with a sassy little introduction and just get right to today's weigh-in:

Down 0.4 lbs today.  That zero never looked so good.

That motivated me to come straight home after work and eat my dinner at home before I dashed off to a meeting of sorts at my new job this evening.  I badly wanted to just stay at work and then head straight over to my meeting and then con my husband to go out to dinner....but not after seeing the scale this morning.

Oddly enough, I think it's the morning weigh-ins that are keeping me on track.  Thinking back, it's the first thing I stopped doing when I started going off the rails again with my eating.

Now that's some food for thought.  (pun intended)

Nonlinguistic representations of my body image. Because words get boring after awhile.

So I was talking to my Southern momma the other night.  Talking with my mom (who is from and currently resides in Alabama) is an adventure in and of itself, since you must simultaneously listen to her end of the conversation as well as try to figure out the ends of her sentences, because she doesn't always complete them before jumping to her next thought.  Anyway, because she's so far away she doesn't get to come watch any of my races; so I sent her the pictures from my recent marathon, and she told me I looked so skinny.  Or, in her southern drawl, she said I looked "soOoooOooooOoo  skeeeeny."

Moms are so darn cute.  

But I don't see "skeeeny" at all when I look at my pics.  As a matter of fact, I home in right on my perceived negatives and linger there, as if by staring at them long enough I will shame those body parts into slimming down by sheer force of will.

But the crazy thing is that other people don't see negative where I see negative.  It's amazing to me how your body image gets so distorted after being 200+ pounds that you struggle forever after with what a normal body should look like.  I don't remember this being a problem as a kid; I thought I pretty much looked spectacular all the time and never ever worried about how I looked in anything.  And I should have been, since I grew up in the 1980's for Christ's sake, where people pranced around in skinny ties, sweater dresses, leg warmers, parachute pants, side-ponytails, huge shoulder pads, and all things neon.

People tell me I look skinny, but I never believe them (especially my husband, who married me at a size 22 and told me I always looked good.  I love him for this, but I can no longer trust his judgement.  Sorry, honey).  In fact, this is how I always feel:

Even when I was at my skinniest, I still felt I looked like that.  This is something that will need to be overcome during this round of weight loss, especially since if I now ask my husband if I look fat he just walks away after snorting at me in disgust.

Speaking of this round of weight loss, here was today's weigh-in:

There's my crazy veiny feet again.

Another 0.2 lbs!  Again, I'll take it!  I am feeling pretty pumped so far; but, then again, it is only day 4.  Having meals that I made cooked and waiting for me to heat up when I get home has been so helpful in stopping me from diving right into laziness and going out for some processed grub.  And, I have to admit, having the scale creep down slowly has also been a motivator.  Let's see what tomorrow brings when I have to be somewhere in the evening and am rushed for dinner....

Don't even pretend that you don't have eating conversations with yourself, too.

This morning I got up and did some Total Body Tri-Sets and let Cathe abuse me with her multiple painful forms of push-ups and her lower body exercises that made my glutes sore by mid-day.  But before I went downstairs for this completely voluntary exercise abuse, I weighed in.

And today's weight is.....

I have some veiny feet.

Down another 0.2 pounds!  I'll take it.  It didn't come on all at once, and it sure won't come off that way.

I spent the work day today figuring out how to stop snacking so much in-between meals (oh, and actually doing my job, too).  I realized that since I get up at 4 AM, lunchtime for my body is actually around 10...and, since I don't teach that period, I started eating my lunch then.  And when I say "started" I mean I ate half of it--my carrots and my yogurt.  I then taught for a period, and then ate my sandwich during my regularly scheduled lunch period.  Then it was all teach teach teach snack teach teach snack sit down and get some work done now go home and blog about my weight like a fool.

What struck me the most was the mental gymnastics that occurred within my brain right after school let out at 3 PM.  I finished my afternoon snack (apple and a cheese stick) with the cheese stick and then sat down to do some work.  Within a half an hour I wanted something to eat again.  The convo in my brain went a little something like this:

Body: "I'm hungry."

Brain: "No you're not.  You just ate half an hour ago."

Body: "No....I'm pretty sure I'm hungry.  There's food over there in the office.  Let's get some."

Brain: "I don't think so.  I'm not feeling hungry.  Are you sure you're hungry?"

Body: "Pretty sure, even thought your stomach isn't saying so! The food is just about 10 feet away! Let's Goooooooooooooo!"

I used to eat constantly from the time school let out until the time I went home.  I think it's a vestige of when I used to smoke-when I couldn't smoke I had a tendency to nosh a bit.  And, since they tend to frown upon smoking in school these days, eating seemed like a less risky alternative.  

Well, I quit smoking almost 3 years ago.  It's time to quit all these nasty little habits that went with it.

On a completely unrelated note, I feel like I have more energy now that I am eating real food I cook myself for dinner rather than going off in search of an easy meal that contains mystery ingredients or ingredients that are food in name only. Since it's only been two days, however, this may all be my brain's way of trying to make the best of a bad situation by lying to itself.

Hopefully the scale will keep trending downward tomorrow.