Speaking Up about Weight Loss

So...my little "speech" was last night.

It went...well. I think?

Afterwards I felt pretty drained emotionally and physically. It's been a long week at our house and I can't remember the last time I slept more than an hour at one time. But it wasn't just the lack of sleep. It was the fact that I shared my story...OUT LOUD.

And--duh!--I've been doing that for almost two years here on this blog, but this time I said it out loud. To a group of people. People with ears and eyes and body language that "speaks" back. Women I spend time with weekly, if not more often.

I'm feeling very raw about it. Very vulnerable. And really, I know how ridiculous this sounds after I've been so open about my weight loss journey and depression and other things here on the blog. But I still can't decide if it was a good thing.

I was nervous through the entire thing. My mouth was really dry and I could. not. stop. shaking. I was emotional. (No surprise there.) I could see some women growing emotional as I spoke. But I think it was the women who just watched me with no expression in their eyes that scared me the most. I could not "read" what they were thinking.

I can't help wondering how I came across to this audience. Did I sound ridiculous? Did I sound whiny? Was my message hopeful and inspiring? Was it too much about me? Did I dwell too much on the past and not enough on the future? Do they all think I'm crazy and broken now? Did I sound immature or judgmental or "holier than thou"?

I hope I can look people in the eye on Sunday at church.

I only had so much time to speak and I even went over the time allotment (oops!). It was a lot of message to squeeze into one little chunk of time. I tried to be honest and to convey that message of "if I can do it, ANYONE can" without going so far as to say that. I hoped to express how I've changed the course of my life journey and how I'm enjoying it now instead of enduring it.

A few women came up to me afterwards. These were ones who I had seen wiping away tears as I spoke. They expressed how my journey had been/was their journey. One woman, who I hardly know, simply hugged me and cried. I found out she had been called "Jolly Green Giant" as well. I had hoped to talk to her more, but my opportunity was lost with the chaos of the evening.

I wish I could just let the chips fall and be settled about it. What's done is done. I can't change it now. My hope is that maybe at least one person was affected last night and if that happened then it was completely worth it.

Also...I think I better stick with writing. At least I can get through that without doing the ugly cry. Or at least without people seeing me doing the ugly cry.

P.S. Go HERE to read Part 1 of my presentation.

100 Days

Today was the 100th day of school for my school kiddos. Coincidentally, there are (only!) 100 days left until I run my first marathon.

And here's another coincidence...Last year I ran my first half marathon in the 13th Annual Portneuf Gap Marathon. This year I'm running my first full marathon in the 13th Annual Ogden Marathon!

Hmm.

I have my marathon training schedule posted on my fridge so that I can look at it every day and GET ABSOLUTELY FREAKING TERRIFIED!

Some days I catch myself thinking, "WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU THINKING?!" Other days I find my thoughts are a tad more positive: "Maybe, just maybe I can do this...And live."

Needless to say, training for a marathon is a daunting thing. But then again, so is training for a half marathon and I did that. And lived.

Pfft. What's a full marathon to a half? Well, Evelyn. It's twice. It's run a half marathon, then turn around and do it again. No naps. No ice cream chocolate sundaes. No. 

I CAN DO THIS. I just need to stick to my training schedule and put in the hours. I remember last year being astounded at how quickly I could build up my mileage just by adding a mile or two on my long runs each week.
At one point I was elated to be able to run 3 miles at a time.

Then 5.

Then 8.

Then a double digit 10!

Then--gasp!--12!!
And then I was on my way to running 13.1 in my first half marathon.

26.2 miles. I CAN DO THIS!

And then I die or I go on to conquer the world.

100 days!

Trail Running: There's a First Time for Everything



And we're breathing...

I don't know if it's absurd or profound that I've had to lose myself to find myself.

Translation: As I've lost weight, I've gained a new sense of me.

With the loss of dozens of pounds I suddenly have the confidence and willingness to do things I never would have dared dream of doing before. I was too self-conscious, too afraid, too anxiety-ridden, too fat, too lazy, too incapable. I was blinded to my abilities by all that fat and fear.

I get angry with myself for losing so much precious time--like all of my 20s and even much of my adolescence--by being so dang petrified to just get up, get out, and get moving. There is a big wide wonderful world out there to be explored and I'm finally feeling brave enough to explore it!

This was my Facebook status last Saturday morning: "I've seriously lost it now. I've woken up at 6 am on a Saturday so I can drive half an hour to meet a 'stranger' where we will then proceed to RUN up a mountain in the cold and dark. Bonkers."

I met Heidi on an LDS Runners Facebook group. She has been running for over 5 years and has been so kind to mentor this newbie runner online. The other day she offered to meet up with anyone who wanted to for a trail run. I snagged the opportunity iimmediately and agreed to be there.

Aaaaand then considered canceling about 37 times. The anxiety of doing something new with someone new was overwhelming. Even the morning of the trail run, I found myself concocting some kind of excuse to not show up. So typical of 281.5 pound Evelyn.

"What if I can't keep up? What if it's too hard? What if I hold the group back? What if I get hurt? What if? What if? What if?!?"

Heidi and Ethan and their "Take No Wild Turkey Prisoners" faces

While 281.5 pound Evelyn may still be fiercely whispering doubts, I'm learning to ignore her. I went anyway, and although I got lost on the drive there, I eventually made it. Heidi and her son, Ethan, were wonderful people! They are definitely more in shape than me, but they made no fuss about my heavy breathing or slower pace. I only had to ask to walk one time and I kept up the whole way downhill!

Trail running is fabulous! It's so nice to ditch the hard unforgiving pavement and the sounds and smells of the city for soft cushy dirt, colorful fall leaves, and cheerful bird songs. We covered almost 5 miles round trip and even tackled a 300 foot ascent (talk about a calf workout). We saw deer and lots of wild turkeys. We crunch-crunch-crunched through banks of bright red and orange leaves.

As if the scenery wasn't awesome enough I had the opportunity to meet someone I've admired for awhile as well as pick her runner's brain. I've met several blogging friends "in real life", but this was the first time I've met a running friend. (Does this make me a "real runner" now?) Thank you so much for letting me tag along, Heidi and Ethan! I had a fabulous time and can't wait to do it again!

(Who needs a silly comfort zone anyway?!)

Triumphs and Troubles

5.4 pounds lost.

48.3 pounds total since 09 May 2011.

Funny how my weight loss goals start to get back in line just when my fitness goals are driving me crazy.

It was a hard week of running last week. Every day of running was excruciating to get through. One morning as I was bustling around the house cleaning, I bent forward and felt a rip in my upper back left leg. PAIN! It was sore the rest of the day and I wanted to cry with fear and frustration that my running goals were slipping through my hands. I ran that night anyway. The pain wasn't bad by then. But half a week later I can still feel it, nagging and pecking away at my self doubt.

My Saturday run was frustrating too. Usually my Saturday runs are glorious and triumph-laden. I had planned and fully expected to run 7 miles. But I couldn't run the whole thing. I ended up walking throughout.

After a run, I always feel accomplished when I did it "clean" meaning to me that I ran the entire distance I had planned to run. No walking. No shortcuts. No excuses. So after walking through parts of a 7 mile run I couldn't help but feel I had cheated and that my 7 miles was no accomplishment.

Is there something wrong with me?
Am I a perfectionist when it comes to running?
Is there anything wrong with walking parts of a running route?
Does it still "count"?

I wonder if I need to change my expectations of myself.
Or I wonder if this is just a bad week or I'm over training or I'm injured or...or...or...

I worry that I have pushed my body to its limit and this is it for me. I hate that! I hate feeling like I can't do it. And that's exactly how I feel this week. And just when I had decided I wanted to try for a full marathon next year...(Shh! I didn't say that out loud.)

Good week for weight loss. Bad week for fitness progress. We shall see what this week brings...

Running in the Rain

Just as I began my morning run at the local high school track it started to rain.

What's a little rain? I kept jogging.

Then it started pouring down rain.

I kept jogging.

It was early. Most of the other runners had left either because of the rain (wimps!) or because they were done with their workouts (more likely than the former).

It was just me and the track and the rain. The rain was warm and harmless. Before long I was soaked. But I felt so alive!

This was a girlhood fantasy dream come true. (I would say fantasy but then I would have to admit that it was probably more hormonally charged than I am willing to confess to. At least directly.)

I wish I had done this ages ago. I discovered that nothing makes you feel more alive than running in a summer rain.

Aaaaaand then nothing makes you feel more like the old fat person you are than running in the rain with high school football practice starting on your left side and cheer leading practice on your right side.

This was a girlhood nightmare.

It was something straight out of my past or one of those gawky teen flicks.

I was never a cheerleader (or a football player). I was the chubby awkward girl who got good grades.

Now I'm the chubbier awkward lady who has four babies, bills, and other worries besides not being asked to the school dance, studying for finals, and remembering my locker combination.

Still I couldn't help feeling like I was right back there. Back in that painful pubescent period.
The football players stood on the track joking around and wasting time before their practice began on the field inside the track lanes. They didn't move out of my way as I jogged in my lane. I had to run around them. Just as I had had to in high school.

The cheerleaders all wore teeny tiny shorts and perky up dos that obviously had more intention than just keeping their hair out of their face. After all, football practice was going on only a mere few yards away. They mostly ignored me. I was insignificant. Just as I had been in high school.

Just a fat, huffy puffy, old mom.
Before they all showed up I had been soaring with the exhilaration of jogging through an early morning summer rain fall. Now I felt keenly aware of every roll of fat, every heavy footfall, every gasp for air.

Then the thought came to me...

Where are you all going to be in 10 years?

I slapped on my mental blinders, continued my run, and almost giggled out loud as I imagined the balding and bellies, the minivans and mortgages in their futures.

This wasn't about them. This wasn't about high school. This wasn't even about me 10 years ago.

This was about me. Now. In the present. And the me I am trying to create for the future.

This is a personal journey. And so far my journey is going marvelously. A few cocky football players and snobby cheerleaders do nothing to change how far I've come and how far I can go.

So, I kept running through the rain. And there may or may not have been football and cheer leading practice going on all around me. Who knows. Who cares.

I am the heroine in my own movie. And we all know what happens at the end of those teen flicks anyway, right?

Gangrene Goals

My goals are not working out for me. It's time to change them up.

All of my goals are based on running and after three weeks of trying to run I have had to confess that my body is not ready to run right now. My knees went from irritated to hurt to painful to tear-inducing torture. I began to dread my running days and looking for excuses to get out of it.

Plus my 5 month old baby Cee grew wise to my running routine.

She used to be content to sit in the stroller and sleep or watch. Now she screams the entire 45 minutes. I would run a lap. Pat her and try to soothe her. Run another lap. Pat. Soothe. Run. Soothe. Run. Soothe. It didn't work. Two--TWO!-- moms came wandering by looking to see where the neglected baby was at. It was embarrassing and frustrating.

Have you ever tried to run while listening to a screaming, not crying, but freaking-out-screaming baby???

It feels like trying to jog with someone jogging at your side saying, "You can't do this. You're a bad mom. You're wrong to try. You're fat. Give up. You CAN'T. Just stop."

When I realized how often the word "can't" was rolling through my brain, I started talking to myself out loud to drown out the pessimism.

"I CAN do this. I NEED to this. I am NOT a bad mom. I CAN do this!"

But between the crying knees and crying baby...I have to call it quits. Not on exercise altogether. Just on jogging for right now. This is not positive exercise.

Maybe when Cee is a little older.
Maybe when I'm fifty pounds lighter.
Maybe when my husband is in town longer than the weekend and I don't have four littles along for the ride.

But now I have this list of goals that includes running miles and 5Ks and even a marathon. I don't know what goals to make if they don't involve distances like that. Where do I go from here? I'm afraid my exercise motivation is wandering.

I keep meaning to officially start P90X, but I'll admit it. I'm scared. Pull ups? Push ups? Eek!

I feel like I have hit a wall. I know there's a way over it. I just don't know how yet.

Worried for the Weekend

It's Memorial Day weekend.

A weekend we remember those who fought and died for our country.

A weekend we visit and reminisce about our departed loved ones.

A weekend that kick-starts summer.

A weekend full of food.

BBQ, hamburgers and hot dogs, corn on the cob, ice cream, homemade root beer, creamy, puffy, sugary, starchy salads, and junk food galore.

I am scared.

Scared that I will give in and surrender to Memorial Day weekend and gain right back the 10.6 pounds I have lost over the last two weeks.

I can't let this weekend take me down.

We have traveled out of town to be with family. In my family, as with most families I assume, family time=eating.

I am going to do my best to load my plate with green salad and veggies instead of the starchy salads and carbs. I'll stick to the no pop rule I have placed on myself. I will avoid the late night goodies of popcorn, ice cream sundaes, and candies.

I feel like I am under attack and it's all on the home front.

I'm not going to lie; it's gonna be hard. To watch all my skinny siblings and their skinny spouses and the skinny kids eat all that junk while I munch away on carrot sticks. I might cry a bit. But hopefully I'll be crying with joy when I see more success on the scale Monday morning.

Gotta keep that in mind...

P.S. I can't seem to make it past 4 days of working out in a row. I'm already at 4 this week. tomorrow would be 5. I think I am really going to stick it to holiday temptation by going for a good long walk tomorrow.