Eating lies I tell myself.

Even though I wanted to do at least 8 miles today, I ended up doing a solid 6 with large dog.  Gotta give some props to the hubbs for catching a snap of large dog and I out in the 20-degree weather.

Large dog: ZOMG I'M RUNNING ZOMG ZOMG ZOMG

I think that this might be the last nice day for large dog to hitch a ride with me on a run; it's supposed to get supercold for a while (like it's winter or something), so I hope he enjoyed himself.  Especially the parts where he kept trying to drag me into the ditch.

But let's rewind back to the start of the day today, before my nice pre-Xmas run.  Let's go back all the way to the beginning, when small dog slammed himself on top of me to wake me up and take him outside.  As I stumbled my way to the bathroom trying to get that one eye that won't ever open all the way in the morning open, I decided for no particular reason to do something I haven't done in about 6 months: get on the scale and weight myself.

What were the results?  Well, I have gained back 9 pounds.  9.4 pounds to be exact.  But I didn't have a meltdown like I normally would have right there on the scale.  And I think the reason is because my clothes all still fit--I haven't had to buy any larger clothes, which is usually one of the main reasons I get back on the scale.

However, just because my clothes still fit doesn't mean I don't need to make some changes.  My eating needs some overhauling (which I've mentioned recently), but I think the biggest thing I need to change is to stop telling myself lies about what I can and cannot eat.  Below are some of the eating lies I tend to tell myself when I'm training for a race:

• I'm training.  I can eat that bread and all of the bread left on the table when I'm out to dinner.
• It's OK to have <whatever junk food is sitting in front of me> because I'm doing a 20 miler three days from now so, you know, it'll just magically burn off.
• Potato chips are carbs, right?  I need those for fuel for my runs right?  Right.  This whole family size bag should do it.
• These chocolate candies are sugar, which is mainly glucose...which is the same thing that's in my energy gels, so it's all good.
• I know I've been sitting at my desk all day and I literally just ate a health bar so of course I also need to eat this cheese and another health bar, because, you know, healthy stuff doesn't count.

So it's out with the rationalizing and in with the accountability for my eating.  From now on, you lucky readers, you're getting an eating report along with a workout report.  Hopefully this will consist of pictures of yummy, nutritious food, just like the one below of the beef and broccoli I made in the slow cooker tonight:

Learnings starting.....now:

• Large dog and I have a New Year's Day race...I hope it's going to be warm enough for him to run with me.
• Now you get workout/running porn AND food porn.  So lucky.
• Hopefully talking about my eating will shame me into actually cooking my own food more often.
• And if I cook more often I can stop all that lying to myself (even though I'm really really good at it).
• I'm just going to assume those 9.4 pounds are all sitting in my arms and move on with my healthier eating.

Tomorrow's workout: Some sort of Cathe total body workout. More muscle, more fat burning, you know...

Day 1, Week 12: The 20 miler that wasn't.

I was supposed to do 20 miles today.  I'm going to let the cat out of the bag right now and tell you all 20 of those miles didn't happen.  And now I'm going to put together my day for you below in pictures because a) pictures are worth 1,000 words and b) I am again exhausted and need to go to bed.

Like I said yesterday, I was attending a conference this weekend and thus was out of town until this morning.  Well, I was actually *in* a town, just not my own town.  I was in Frank Sinatra's kind of town-Chicago.  I was planning on getting in as many miles as I could in Chicago before heading home and finishing the run. And since I am not allowed to run about outside in the downtown area via husband decree (I'm working on getting that decree rescinded because it is based on paranoia and unfounded fear), I had to get up and run on the treadmill this morning.

Welcome to my view for the next hour and a half.

I would like to point out that, during that hour and a half run, I saw approximately 3,576 runners outside running around in that little view of mine, giving me complete and total running-outside-envy and making me wish I had packed some winter gear so I could simply defy my husband's decree (he was sleeping while I was running, anyway--he would never have known!).

Anyhoo, I managed to get 10 miles in, and they were some of the easiest treadmill miles I've had in a long time.  

Every time a mile ticked by, I kept telling myself that it was one less mile I had to do outside later.  This was surprisingly motivational for me.  So was the fact that I pretty much had their large palatial fitness center mostly to myself the entire time.

I feel so insignificant.

After that, I had every intention of going home and finishing the other 10 outside.  In fact, I even got dressed to go for a run right after getting home.

Surprise!  10 more miles!  Not!

But then stupid things like "driving" and "unpacking" and "going to get my dogs from the boarding place" and "eating dinner" and "doing laundry" got in the way.

By the time I did all that, I was pretty de-motivated to run outside since, you know, dark and cold and windy, so I put on some treadmill clothes and hopped on the treadmill to get in as many miles as I could before bed.

And that's when the chafing stopped me.

Literally, it stopped me.  I could only manage half a mile before I had to stop and scrap the rest of the run.  It seems the underwear I wore this morning had done more damage than I realized, even though I applied lotion liberally after the run this morning and had even put on body glide when I got home.  But none of that worked.  Every step caused waves of red-hot chafing goodness to shoot through my body.

Needless to say, I was completely bummed.  That was the last 20 miler on my training schedule, and I really needed to get it in.  My plan has five 20 milers, and I have only done two of them (one of them came close - a 17 miler).  So I was kind of in panic mode about this until I realized that next weekend I signed up for this little gem of a half marathon.

What's 7 more miles after 13.1?  Not much.  And I know I'll actually do them on this course, since it's in the middle of a forest preserve with paths galore to explore.  And we now know I'm an idiot who wears the wrong kind of undies for a long run on a treadmill.

Learnings in 3...2...1...

• Chafing.  Never a good thing.
• Once again, telling myself I'll do a run later is a complete lie.
• Why do I believe my own lies?  Pffft.
• I'm going to get that 20 miler in next weekend even if it kills me.  Or at least causes me much anguish and suffering before getting it done.
• You may admire the awesomeness of those running tights in the comments below.
• You may also expound on how cute my dogs are in the comments at any time, as long as the comment contains the words "super cute."

Tomorrow's workout: Upper body weights.  What Cathe workout I'm going to do for that remains to be seen...