The Heavyweight Chronicles

Still letting go?

2012-01-26T08:05:00.000-08:00

One of the things I've found most challenging about my transformation has been how easy the physical things are compared to the mental/emotional challenges I've gone through. As much sweat, pain, tears, and agony as I've gone through losing the weight, losing the people I loved has been 10x harder on me.

Everyone knows I left my husband after almost 11 years together. This is mostly attributed to me deciding to take responsibility in all the aspects of my life, including health and finance. These were and still are issues he refuses to address. What everyone may not know is that I've basically lost all of my friends, too. Fatties like to hang out together, that's no big secret. They like to eat, drink, be obnoxious, and make each other feel accepted within a group because they're all fat. You know what sucks? When you're not fat anymore, they hate you for it. And in the end, I didn't fit in anymore. My outlook became more positive, I no longer needed to be loud and obnoxious to deflect attention from my physical appearance.

My best friend abandoned me when she realized it wasn't just a phase. My other friends slowly became less relevant to my life, or moved away or whatever. I let go of another "friend" who only showed up when she wanted me to do something with her, like come to one of her parties or her bridal shower, or her wedding, but could never be inconvenienced to do anything with me. So, she's gone.

The very last one, the one who weathered my split and with whom I weathered her split, had to be let go. At a time for me when the tides have all turned, and my life is finally heading down the right road, and my daily outlook is so positive, how can I possibly justify keeping someone around who makes me feel bad? She's just toxic. Everything she says is negative beyond negative. Don't get me wrong, I'm snarky. There's a huge difference between being snarky and being negative. She's like a black hole. She sucks the energy out of a room. I have watched her spiral downward instead of learning to thrive; worst of all, she's in such denial about it that my words fall on deaf ears. It hurts to see someone I care for suffering. But, I can't help her; she doesn't really, truly want my help. And so, I'm letting her go. It pains my heart, and it makes me sad. She's the last person really, really connected with my old life. Just as I mourned the loss of the person I used to be, like an actual death, and mourned the loss of my husband, best friend, and family relationships, I'll mourn this.

Rest assured, when I'm done mourning all of this, my heart will truly be ready to embrace this new life I've built and continue to build. Only good things can come from bad if I'm willing to let my higher power take the reigns. Who know losing weight was the easy part?

The good, the bad, and the addict

2012-01-20T20:51:00.000-08:00

As I was riding my bike today, I passed the local golf course. What I saw brought back a memory so strong for me, I had to slow down and press back the tears. A little girl with blond, bouncy hair followed her daddy through the parking lot holding his hand, as he carried his golf clubs over his opposite shoulder. She was literally skipping next to him through the parking lot.

While I have a great deal of bad memories from my childhood with my father the addict and alcoholic, I have peppered memories that are amazing. They're the ones I hold nearest and dearest to my heart, of the times when he was my daddy, the man who made the stars shine. Some of the most amazing memories I have are our Tuesday afternoons on the golf course when he was in the Elks Country Club League. Mind you, being a member of the Country Club used to be a pretty grand status symbol, and I drove a golf cart for judges, lawyers, pharmacists and doctors. Everyone knew us. Later in life, I came to realize that everyone knew us for not so savory reasons, but as a child I thought it was awesome to hobnob with these people. I also came to learn that I got to drive the cart because my dad was usually too drunk to drive it for us, which also explains why we would ALWAYS spend a couple hours after the round in the clubhouse eating dinner.

But I digress. These tiny snippets of my memory, of growing up a country club brat, are some of the places I retreat to when I really start to hate the person I see him as now. When you live with an addict, you spend years trying to see the best in them because you find it too difficult to see them as they are: diabolical and manipulative creatures who prey on your weaknesses to get what they want from you. You see them like that until one day, you decide as I did, that I'd had enough, and that you don't get to control me anymore. You no longer have power over me. The problem is, once you do that, they toss you away like trash because they don't need you anymore. If you won't give them what they want, they'll find someone else to manipulate. And eventually, you have nothing left to talk about.

My dad and I barely speak. My 3 little siblings don't speak to him at all. It took me 27 years to see him for what he was. And now we have no father, like he died. Only he didn't, he just can't see through his denial. And maybe he never will. Maybe he'll never see that his life is what it is because he chooses it to be so, not because someone DID it to him.

The little girl skipping with her daddy today reminded me that once upon a time, I had a father who loved me in his own twisted way, who wanted to give me the world with the best intentions. As I think back to my visit home at Christmas and how awkward our visits were, and how much I miss my dad, I remember those days on the golf course when my daddy was the apple of my eye, and I realize that's all I'll ever have.

When you love an addict, you can't like what they are, you can only love them and know that they're not capable of anything else. When you love an addict, all you can do is remember the good times you hold close to your heart, instead of all the ones that break your heart.

Contrary Motion.

2012-01-18T08:38:00.000-08:00

Contrary motion is a term used in music to describe when two melodic lines are going in opposite directions, yet still moving the composition forward. I feel like I'm stuck in a state of contrary motion all the time. There are bits of my life being shoved violently forward, while other bits of my life are always trying to go backwards, all while time marches on.

I put myself under and through a great deal of stress last semester with all that graduation business, and was happy to do it because I reached a goal that has eluded me for some time. In the process of doing so, I let my fitness slide backwards because I was spending so much time doing schoolwork. Because my fitness slid backwards, my weight loss stopped and I even packed on about 10 pounds I'd worked so hard to lose.

So here I am again. In contrary motion. Going to grad school full time this semester will either be the best decision I've ever made or the worst. I've never been the best at time management, and at the start of this new year and semester, I find myself struggling to get a routine set up. I can't seem to get in bed before 1am no matter how hard I try, which of course, means I don't get up as early as I'd like. And my days tend to snowball from there. I desperately miss working out and the routine and stress relief it provided me. I also miss the deep, deep sleep that resulted from my 5 days/week bodily punishment. And, not for nothing, I AM NOT OK WITH WEIGHT GAIN.....ever.

That said, while contrary motion is music is amazing, in life, it's simply not acceptable. At least in my life, it's not acceptable. If I'm going to survive this semester and reach all my goals, I'm gonna have to make some commitments that are hard and fast, and happen every day. And just so I'm held accountable, I'm making them here in my blog.

1. I'm gonna get my ass out of bed by 8am everyday.
2. I'm gonna eat a small breakfast and go directly to put on my workout clothes, do not turn on the computer, do not turn on the TV, do not pass go, or collect $200.
3. I'm gonna track my food, and eat like I know what I'm doing instead of sabotaging all the work I've done because I'm busy and lazy, and being a brat.
4. I'm gonna commit to studying a little each day instead of waiting until the last minute to do everything, because that was what caused most of the stress last semester.
5. I'm gonna spend time with people who make me happy and feed my soul, and maybe just make some new friends along the way.
6. I will not get sucked into other people's drama. What happens in your life, stays in your life. I can't fix your problems, so don't ask me to or make them mine. You won't like the answers you get if you ask me to.
7. I will succeed. I have to.

Should you see me faltering, don't be afraid to call me out. I'll hate you for a minute, but love you in the end. Just because I give tough love doesn't mean I don't also need it from time to time.

Taking stock

2012-01-10T00:11:00.000-08:00

As I sat with a group of people celebrating Eric's birthday this evening, I realized just how very completely and dramatically my life has changed. Nothing is the same. Every single person who I considered near and dear to me has fallen out of my life (including some family members) like the last leaves on the Fall trees, clinging for just another moment before they go back from whence they came.

None of the faces are the same (except my Mom and stepdad who's more like a real dad than my own), and while that strikes me with a sorrowful feeling, I can't say it's a bad thing. Why? Because the people who have fallen away were friends with someone who doesn't exist anymore. She's dead and gone. And just as I have mourned her passing, the new person that has come forth strives for a better life with better people in it. And just like a tree, new leaves have grown. The roots of the tree are the same, but her leaves are different. And her branches much stronger (and way better toned).

The group of people I call my friends these days are more like me: positive, supportive, creative creatures who feed my tree what it needs to thrive. Everyday, with more opportunities facing me than ever, a bright and shiny future on my horizon, and more determination than one person needs, I find myself boundlessly optimistic that as long as I keep growing my branches, new leaves will come along to fill them. As long as I can continue to understand that dropping old leaves and growing new ones is a natural part of human life, I think my tree will keep growing and growing and growing, and someday, she'll be so full of life nobody would dare cut her down again.

The end of an era

2011-12-14T20:58:00.000-08:00

So, I've been having weird dreams lately; and by lately I mean every night since finals started. And by weird, I mean they involve my ex, Eric, and me at present time back at MSU. Eric says it's because I'm trying to close a chapter that deals largely with Michael.

I haven't shared this with many people, and unless you're one of the very few who read my blog, I won't have really shared with that many more people by the time I post it.

I never actually graduated from college. Yes, I finished all the components of my music degree, and all but 3 of my minor classes. I've been working on this degree for over 12 years now. And most of years I spent with Michael, living life, muddling through school, and getting some really craptastic grades, all while not really applying myself the way I should've as a musician. Many of those years were filled with pain I didn't know I was in, apathy for that pain, and the general malaise that was my life with him. Everything was about him, and I never really got the bug to finish school until I started losing weight and realized that I wanted something more for my life than what I had. That, friends, has been written somewhere else.

6 years after leaving MSU to move here, I'm FINALLY going to graduate this week. It's not that this is a hard pill for me to swallow, but it is in some respects one of the hardest things I've ever done. I spent most of my teenage years simply surviving in a house that was chaotic at best, I spent most of my young adult years fat, depressed, and never able to finish anything. Now that I'm faced with finishing the thing that has haunted me the most, I'm scared to death and excited all at once. Graduation means the freedom to really, truly, honestly move on with my life. I'm praying that MSU has enough faith in me to let start grad school, and take the next step to doing what truly makes me the happiest.

There are only a couple things tying me down to that old life (and those are on the New Year's Resolution list). I'm not talking about starting a new chapter; I'm talking about closing a book. When Saturday comes, I'll be starting to write a whole new book. Saturday, I'll be a graduate for real, and I can finally be proud of my education.

Looking back and looking forward

2011-09-27T11:02:00.000-07:00

I love watching The Biggest Loser, and I've watched it religiously for 3 years. I've just recently had my 3 years anniversary with Weight Watchers, and every time I watch a new season I relive the first time walking in those doors. It's hard for me to remember that girl and how she was. It's hard for me to openly admit how much I hated myself, and how much I hated looking in the mirror. I ate anything sugary I could get my hands on because it kept my brain sedated enough to not let reality sink in. By 27, my dad had congestive heart failure (the 3rd generation on the Piatt side that killed my dad's father), my grandfather had had one heart attack and an aortic aneurism repaired, my grandmother has hardening of the arteries and God knows how many stints, and my other grandmother had had a massive coronary that nearly killed her on the table, plus high blood pressure. Since then, I've lost the only grandfather I ever knew, but grandmothers and my dad are still kicking hard thanks to modern medicine (even though I'd love for my dad to get a clue about his health). No doubt I was pre-diabetic, and it was just a matter of time before the family ailments started to show up.

Watching the new season always sends emotions flooding back through me, and I always end up in a puddle of tears because I take a couple minutes to remind myself of where I came from. I look at that girl in the picture on my fridge, where I see her every time I open it. It's hard to believe that was me. It doesn't even look like me, more like a relative who kind of resembles me. And people who meet me now don't believe me when I tell them about the weight loss; some even go so far as to want to see the picture on my FB page of me as a fatty.

I know that fat girl has been almost been banished from my person. I know this because, walking by Lane Bryant the other night on my way to Aeropostale, Eric said I pranced by the store. I used to live for that store, and now the only thing that fits are the bras, and I have to order them online because they don't carry sizes that small in the stores! But, I finally feel like I don't belong in that store anymore. I don't belong in that world. I can walk into virtually any store and buy clothes off the rack, for the first time in my life. I can wear my mom's running clothes, for Pete sake. I'm finally getting to the point where that fat girl doesn't exist anymore, except in allllll the pictures of what seem like some other person's life.

Come December, I'm going to close a very long, very painful chapter in my life. I'm finally going to graduate with the degree I've been working on since 1999. I'm going to get a divorce, and let go of my 20's and all the craziness that came with them. I'm going to start a whole new chapter. I want to finish losing this weight, and if my goal weight ends up being 175 pounds, then so be it. I'll be 175 pounds of solid, kick your ass and make you muffins female. I'm hoping beyond all hopes that UCF sees enough potential in me to look past my not so stellar test scores and crappy grades from a time in my life when I was utterly unfocused and unhappy, and lets me into their Counselor Ed program. If they don't, I'll focus on becoming a personal trainer, and try again with UCF after taking the GRE again, and doing better.

I think it's so important to never let go completely of my past, good, bad, ugly or otherwise. It's part of what has shaped my life, and made me strong enough to face my future as a whole new young woman. But, while it's good to keep the memories, it's always better to keep them at arms length, in a box on the the shelf at the back of my mind, where I can peek into it occasionally and then duct tape it shut again. Those memories may always be there, but the promise and hope I have for my new chapters is so much better that it makes looking back something I don't need to do except a couple times a year, when the new Biggest Loser season starts.

Losing it is half the battle

2011-09-15T09:02:00.000-07:00

        I'm insanely busy with teaching and homework, but I feel the need to get some things off my chest that are really bugging me. Let me just start by saying that this is partially a rant and partially me complaining about a few things, so read on if you're interested or not, I don't care.
   First off, nobody told me when I decided to lose all this weight what would happen to my life. They said, "Oh, you'll feel and look so good". I though, Ok, sure, let's do this. What they didn't tell me was that, after losing all this weight I'd be left with alien looking skin that's nothing short of appealing and disgusting. What used to be my stomachs(yes, plural for the upper and lower), is now something akin to an empty balloon, complete with wrinkles and all. And when I flex my abs, these little folds show up in the skin. It sweats, it chafes, it looks like muffin top and wearing girdles everyday isn't something I'm into. It sucks to have this shit hanging off the body I've worked so hard sculpting. A trip to the plastic surgeon two days ago revealed that I need no less than an extended tummy tuck(to the tune of $8,500) followed by a breast lift/augmentation to fix all the damage from losing this weight. Luckily, my arms in great shape from playing piano, so at least I don't have to have skin taken off there.
          Second, nobody told me I'd lose tolerance for any and everything to do with being fat, or the attitudes and ways I had when I was fat. I find myself being overly judgmental towards fatties these day because I feel like if I can do it, why can't you get off your ass and stop eating at Golden Corral and make a change! I forget that before I started this journey, I was so miserable and addicted to sugar so insanely that I couldn't see past my next stop at the Publix bakery. I know so much of this journey is mental, but I just wanna shake people until they get it. You're eating yourself into the grave! Stop eating that! Go take a walk! Disconnect your cable! Do something! I'm just dying to help people, but I don't know how I'll react to the fatties that come to me and say I can't. I'll probably be the second coming of Jillian Michaels to be honest.
   Third, if changing my mind was as easy as changing my body, I'd be set. My God, how long does it take before I figure out that my old habits have to die, not just hide or become less prevalent, but die altogether.   I know sugar is bad for me, and is like walking down the road to Hell. But, in times of stress, I go right for it. Pisses me off to no end! Granted, I'm getting better at controlling the urges, and I at least recognize my destructive behavior when it's happening. I just wish it would stop happening. I'm not fortunate enough to be able to eat sugar and not be passed out like a junkie 20 minutes later. My body physically rejects sugar to point that it makes me nauseous, yet it's compulsive, and it's everywhere. I just wish my mind could catch up to my body.
Fourth, I wish my family would stop acting like children. I'm being punished by one of my brothers for divorcing my ex because my brother really liked him and blah, blah, blah. So, in spite of my requests to cease all relationships and communication with my ex, my brother and his wife has ceased a relationship with me. How fucked up is that? I don't want to cut off anyone in my family, especially because I have 2 nieces and a nephew that I adore, but I will if it becomes destructive to me. Why can't adults act like adults? Why is that so hard? Why can't you understand that your family is important than anyone else in this world? Why is it so hard to treat each other with respect? I just don't get it. No family is perfect, but I love fiercely and live fiercely, and if you can't respect that, you don't belong in my life.

My 3 year anniversary with WW is coming up, and I've lost almost 110 pounds since I started. Let me just say, that 3 years ago, when I walked into Weight Watchers, I never dreamed all this would happen. My life has changed for the better by 100%, but nobody ever told me about the residual effects. The stuff that isn't so amazing and positive. The stuff that breaks my heart in pieces. Nobody ever talks about it. Hell, I don't talk about it, until it gets to me so much that I need to write it down. People may read this, they may not. But, at least it's out of my head, and I can let some of it go.

Mind over, well, everything

2011-08-28T07:39:00.000-07:00

I feel like the last 3 weeks of my life have gone by in a blur or stress, anxiety, and too much not so great for me foods. The process of getting into school this semester practically had me ready for the mental institution for 2 weeks, trying to get into classes, sending countless faxes to the school for financial aid purposes, getting books, emailing professors. What I thought was only going to be 2 classes, ended up being 4 classes, and all of the sudden, I'm a full time online student! So on top of running a business, just running/cycling/lifting, and general daily life, I have at least 20 hours a week of school stuff to do. Not to mention that I'm taking a math class for the first time in over a decade, and I. HATE. MATH. I also harbor frustration towards many of the people on the discussion boards because, while they mean well, they're idiots!!! How did you make it to college? You have no concept of coherent or grammatically correct thoughts!

Needless to say, I haven't been the most pleasant person to be around. Especially this past week, with school starting and me trying to just get the hang of the classes. I'm not really certain if I really can have it all, and do it all, and stay sane without torching the very few meaningful relationships I have right now. The other factor into all this is, that I'm financially strapped. Last month wasn't so great in terms of business, and this month is right on the edge of the same. I will pick up more students as the Fall moves forward, but right now, I'm totally broke. That said, the student loan fairy will hopefully be showing up sometime next week(fingers crossed), and that will take some of the stress off the business a little. I'm also struggling because I love teaching, but it's not my lifeblood the way it used to be. God is clearly sending me down a different road, far, far from being a music teacher. I'll always do it, but it'll be nice someday when I don't HAVE TO DO IT to be able to eat.

I have a very powerful mind. It's capable of great things. It's the kind of mind that will make me a great counselor someday. But it also makes me a little crazy now, when there are 50 things I'm thinking about all at once. I didn't use to operate at this level, partly because my brain was always cracked out on sugar, but mostly because I wasn't ready to embrace my potential. What I've learned about my life over the last couple years is that I can do anything I set this mind to. I can lose the equivalent of a 10 year old, I can run hundreds of miles through pain and all kinds of weather, I can start my life over again, and I can manage to live by the mantra "mind over matter".

This one time at band camp, I almost died......

2011-08-11T11:38:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was a very special day in the history of my life, a weird anniversary if you will. Those who know me well, and have known for any length of time, know that I suffered a traumatic injury when I was a teenager that effects my life to this day. If anyone has every had a paradigm shift, especially at a young age, you know that you never forget the day it happened, and you know that the people who were there with you will never forget it either. I'm not telling the story here in detail, because that's hardly the point of this post.

August 10, 1995 was a band camp day. I lived for band camp, and as an incoming freshman, I was so excited to finally be getting to high school. It was also my band director's birthday, one I'm sure she'd love to forget. It started like a normal band camp day, and by the end of the day, I was nearly bleeding to death in a hospital bed after falling though a plate glass window in our high school office. The accident happened around 10:10 in the am, and I laid in an ER bed for almost 8 hours before finally being taken into surgery to repair 3 severed tendons and 2 severed nerves in my right wrist/forearm(requiring over 100 stitches and 75 staples) and numerous flesh wounds on my left forearm.

With a cast from fingertips to elbow on my right arm, and some heavy duty bandages on my left arm, my parents were told by the surgeon that I might not ever play the piano again, I might not regain full function of my right hand, and that I'd definitely have permanent nerve damage in my right hand. So, after 3 days in the hospital, my mom took me home. I couldn't do anything on my own.....anything. I couldn't eat, pee, put on clothes, brush my teeth(clad in brand new braces), nothing. Imagine how mortifying that must be for a 14 year old. Not to mention getting a bath from my mom, in the kitchen. HA! It's funny now to look back on it, but it sucked so much then. People would come and go to visit me, and I loved seeing my friends and kids from church. I looked forward to our daily outings to Wendy's for lunch and the video store for fresh movies. Mind you, this was the ONLY time I was allowed outside. And because it was the dead heat of summer, infection from sweat was a very serious risk, given the severity of my wounds.

In 7 weeks, the cast came off and the stitches came out, and what was left was pretty gruesome. It looked like someone has slit my wrist(and still does). I couldn't even make a fist with my hand, the muscles had atrophied so badly. I had to relearn how to write, hold a fork, brush my hair, brush my teeth, button buttons(which I still can't do), and relearn how to play piano, all at a very slow pace. It took months for me regain enough strength to do many of the mundane activities we take for granted everyday.

Stay with me, I'm getting to the point right now.

Flash forward 16 years.

Yesterday, I had $5 to my name(I have $10 to my name today, so I'm better off today than yesterday), my bank account is in the negative, and I got a shut off notice on my electric because I'm having a really tough time right now financially. The upside? God decided to remind just how freaking lucky I am to be here, able to play piano EVERYDAY OF MY LIFE better than ever, how I have 10 fingers that function( even though 3 have no feeling in them), and mostly that I'm alive. I could've bled to death from my injuries in front of my classmates 16 years ago. I didn't, and thank God for that. As frustrated as I was with my life yesterday, today I got the point. Sometimes he doesn't make easy to understand why life is what it is. But yesterday, on my anniversary of the one time at band camp I almost died, I was just happy it's 16 years later, and that I'm here.

Stress

2011-08-08T09:18:00.001-07:00

So it's been a while since I've posted, mostly because I haven't that I could write much without being super negative. But I'm feeling the need to get some things off my chest. Be forewarned, this isn't a posting all about rainbows and butterflies. I've decided that financial stress is the root of all evil. Couple money problems on top of soon to be exes and a university who isn't really interested in helping students graduate, and I've got a mess on my hands.

I pride myself on running a friendly small business where people can learn in a fun environment and I can have some fun while working. The problem with a small business is sometimes life happens, and when other people can't pay me, I can't pay the people I owe. It's a really nasty trickle down effect that I don't care for so much. Anyway, the summer has always been a tough time to get through teaching privately, and I thought I'd pretty much made it unless this month. 4 people couldn't pay me on time, and couple people had to drop, and I lost a couple more students to college. It's the typical ebb and flow, but I still haven't paid my power bill, and the cable just might get shut off. That's life, though. At least my rent is paid. And I HATE asking people for money. It's my least favorite part of running my business because I feel like one of the bill collectors I despise so rabidly.

I'm also trying to tie up some of the loose ends in my life. One of those would be getting divorced. It's not that I haven't wanted a divorce, I do more than anything, but it's a process. We had zero assets, in fact, we had only debt. That's not surprising for anyone who knew us. And as much as I'd love to sue his ass for all the money he owes me, I know that he'd never pay it, because he's never paid for anything else in his life. Why would I be any different? But, somehow my mom found his address, which he's refused to give me up to this point, so I can get started on the filing process. The $495 court fees won't be fun to pay, but it'll be a relief to get it done, and finally be free of the past.

Academic struggles are a whole different type of stress, and at this point, I'm simply dealing with a bureaucracy that really doesn't care about helping people succeed. I have to have patience with the process, and hope that luck and mercy are on my side. I'm almost at the finish line; and I have faith it will all work out, God is just testing my staying power.

Being in a relationship brings its own unique brand of stress to the table. How to deal with my partner's stress without making it my own is a struggle for me. I want to help, but some days, I'm so deep in my own pile of poo that I can't help him. But, for his own sake, he has to be able to deal with his life independently of me. That's what makes a strong pair of people, is being strong individually then combining those strengths so that they compliment each other. For the most part, we succeed in that, but some days we falter, just like everyone else.

There is no upside to having stress in my life, except to try to make tomorrow better than today. I try to chip away at the stresses one at a time, and hope that at some point, they will start to go away one by one, just as they came. It's all so exhausting, but it will end at some point. I refuse to live my life like this. I did it for 11 years while I was living married, and left because I didn't want that life anymore. I still don't want it, but I'm working on it, and that's all that matters.

An act of kindness

2011-07-12T10:56:00.000-07:00

It's not everyday that I get my heart broken. It's even rarer that it breaks in public with strangers just passing by watching it happen and not bothering to even care. Yesterday, I realized just how self involved we, as a culture, truly are. We feel that whatever task is at hand is the single most important thing in the universe and can't possibly be bothered to stop and help someone in need, even when she's bent over a tiny animal in the middle of the road, sobbing almost uncontrollably.

I went to the gym yesterday, like I always do on Mondays, to lift weights, and was riding my bike home, when I noticed a lady's dog stopped staring intently at an animal lying in the grass. I assumed this animal was dead, and that someone would pick it up. As I rode by, I waved to the lady, but then kept looking back to see that she was examining the little animal closer. And that she lingered there for quite some time with her dog. I did a couple mile loop, and decided that I had to go back and see what the fuss was about. On my way back down the street, I noticed a dark thing in the road, and my heart sank. The little animal on the side of the road in the grass hadn't been dead, and it had managed to drag it's body out into the street.

Regardless of traffic, I hopped off my bike and parked it in the middle of the lane. Much to my dismay, a little black tabby cat lay in the road, barely alive, and badly broken. He had gnats flying around his face, and his little body was sunken in and emaciated. He had been this way for quite some time, and nobody had bothered to notice him. I was in tears the moment I saw him, and positive I could hear my heart breaking audibly. I talked to him, mostly to make myself feel better, but to let him know that someone cared and that he didn't have to be alone any longer. His little tail started to twitch and I knew that he knew I was there for him.

Cars passed by. Even a cyclist passed by, stopped to make sure that I was ok, and then went on his way. A man in a SUV stopped and handed me some paper towels, so I could at least move the kitty out of the road, and then told me he couldn't help me because he was late. The image of the white rabbit from "Alice in Wonderland" popped into my head, and I wanted to cuss at him, but resisted the urge. A kid in a minivan stopped, and I asked him if he lived nearby and could he get a towel for me to wrap up the kitty. His response? I have to pick up my prescription, but I'll see if you're still here when I get back. I unrolled several layers of paper towels and laid them out near the kitty, and as gingerly as I could moved him onto them. I could tell when I moved him that his little back was broken and that just the act of breathing must be excruciating. Not sure what to do next, and with a line of cars just going by one at a time, all staring mind you, but none stopping, I got ready to move him out of the road. My next move was going to be to call Eric, who was on his way to my house for our canoeing adventure. Before I could, a young man in a pickup truck came out of a side street and pulled off to the side to help me.

By the time he got there, I was nearly hysterical, and pissed beyond belief at the humans around me. He opened the back of his truck, put on his Winter Park firefighter coat, and came over to talk to me. It turns out, his mom has been out walking, gone home and told him he needed to go get the cat off the side of the road. I told him the kitty needed to be taken to an animal hospital to be put to sleep because his back was broken. We discussed which vet to take him to, and agreed on the same Dr., my vet, and he called them to apprise them of the situation. He picked up the kitty and put him the back of the truck. And I tried my best to comfort him, but he was so scared. As the guy closed the top on his truck bed, I had to really talk myself out of climbing in there and riding along to comfort him. I walked back to my bike, and really just let it out, which apparently worried the man. He came over to make sure I was gonna be ok, and that I wasn't hopping back on my bike immediately. I calmed myself down, and tried to really grasp what was going on. When I hopped back on my bike to head home, I called Eric to let him know why I wasn't home when I said I'd be there. I was over 20 minutes late getting back, but I didn't really care.

Nothing was more important than stopping to help a creature in need. We've all experienced pain, and we all know what it's like to be in need. We've all asked for help at one point in life, and been grateful to have received it. What makes one life more important than another? What makes a stray kitty lying in the road less important than the pampered kitty who's asleep on a pillow in my bed right now? NOTHING. All God's creatures deserve our love and respect, no matter what species they are. Why was I the ONLY ONE who stopped to help that poor soul? Why didn't the person who hit him stop? Did they even care?

The act of kindness here has two meanings: 1, is simply that I took the time to stop and help him and 2, is that to help him meant ending his suffering by getting to the vet and not leaving him to die alone and in pain. I couldn't save him, but in the end of his life, he knew there was someone there who cared enough to take care of him. So I gave up 15 minutes of my day, big deal. Look up from what you're doing. Take a minute to slow down. Don't forget that outside of your existence, a huge world of swirling life is happening, and that yours is but a speck in the universe. Life is bigger than you, what you do today to help another can effect everything else you do. We should all be so lucky as to commit an act of kindness, least you should need one at some point.

The Price I pay

2011-07-07T09:43:00.000-07:00

The other day, I was having a seriously shitty day, and was gonna do a post, but decided it best to wait for the anger to subside. I don't want my blog to be negative, and I don't want people to think I'm negative, even though I do have my days from time to time when I'm just not happy with anything or anyone. That said, today's blog is about the price I pay for having the life I want.

I live a mostly great life. I run my own business, which pays my bills (and not much else), I decide when and for how long I want to work, I don't work 40 hours a week, and my commute involves walking down the steps from my bedroom and around the corner into the living room to the piano. I have free time most mornings that I can use to work out 2 hours a day. All in all, that's pretty f'n sweet. Except for the fact that I'm the paycheck. I don't get paid by someone else every two weeks, and I don't get vacation time or sick time. I get paid once a month. If I don't work, I don't get paid. And, if people decide to be disrespectful and give me short notice on discontinuing lessons, it puts me in a serious bind.

My anger the other day was directed at one person. He knew that money was due the last week of the month, and gave me the runaround about paying me for days. Finally, on the 5th of the month, after I had paid rent and bills, and was basically broke, but still trying to go to New Orleans for the weekend, he decided to tell me via text message that he was discontinuing lessons. Really? This, compounded with someone else who dropped and someone else who couldn't pay me til mid month, really meant that the trip away that I so very desperately needed, would be cancelled at the last minute. So, in a matter of a couple hours, I was broke and not going anywhere this weekend, and not going to get a chance to see my friend. This, of course, pissed me off even more.

I went to the gym, and really tried to run it out. Then, I tried to lift it out by killing my legs on the weight machines. Really, I felt more like throwing the weights AT people, instead of lifting them. But, knowing that I had worked off some of that aggression meant that I felt a tiny smidge better. A good cry whilst sitting on the floor when I got home went a long way in helping me feel better, too. But the reality was/is I'm mentally exhausted and badly need a break from my life to go on an adventure or do something new.

The bottom line here is this: I love teaching. I HATE running the business. I take it too personally when people treat me badly as a teacher, and it's exhausting my mind. Running and lifting and cycling only go so far in helping me clear my mind of all the shit that swirls around in it. I'm a sensitive person, even though I look like a died in the wool athlete who could kick your ass for looking at me wrong.

Everyone makes a choice at some point about how they want to live life. What kind of life you want, what job, car, house, diamond, dog, or clothing you want. There's a price we all pay for those decisions. I had to give up my vacation so I could make sure there was food in my fridge until August 1, but everything happens for a reason. And my hardship pales in comparison to others'. Some prices are higher than others, like the people in this month's issue of Runner's World who have battled or are battling cancer. I've realized that my decision to live like this will cause casualties in my life(in the form of friends, trips, and sometimes family), but I'm certain the payoff in the long run(pun intended) will be worth all the crap I have to put up with right now. This is the life I chose, and so I'll pay the price, even if it hurts sometimes.

Out of my comfort zone.

2011-07-03T08:40:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago I got a new student, and he's a little different than my other students who are mostly interested in classical music or music theater singing. He told me sings in a rock band and needs some help. Then he gave me some tickets to a charity rock concert. That concert was last night, and it was decidedly out of my comfort zone.

Part of the problem I have these days is understanding that I'm not fat anymore. But I spent my whole life being overweight, and the ramifications of that are long lasting. One doesn't just lose 100# and automatically be ok with herself. I'm not edgy or cool. I don't dress hip or sexy. I'm just not that girl. But maybe I'm not that girl because I haven't tried, or think I can't pull it off. Given the chance to really step out last night and wear something HOT, knowing that a lot of people there would be dressed the same way, was scary for me. So, I went with what would make me feel comfortable, which was my favorite denim skirt that is way too big for me, red and white layered tank tops, and my trusty silver Birkenstocks. Even being comfortable in my clothes didn't make me feel comfortable in my own skin.

I live a rather solitary life where I don't put myself in the position to feel insecure, but it's in the moments that I do something new and different that I realize just how unsure my footing is. But that's a juxtaposition for me as well, because for the most part, I don't give a rat's ass what people think of me. When I run, I look like a total nerd, and I don't care because I run for myself. When I teach, my students know that I'm a little crazy, and I don't care. I say what needs to be said in all aspects of my life, and don't really care how if affects others involved. But when it comes to stepping out into a room full of scantily clad rocker Barbies, why do I pick that moment to care what people think?

I was uncomfortable for an hour or so, until my student's band took the stage, and then I let myself be just another face in the crowd. I let myself listen, and feel the music, and turn off the teacher instincts. I tried to ignore some of his bad habits, the ones I see each week in lessons, but haven't gotten around to fixing yet. And like some of my other students performing on stage before, I watched him scan the crowd for my face. And then the rocker boy found his teacher in the audience, pointed right at me and smiled because he knew I was there way past my bedtime, he knew I had to run today and wasn't happy about being out so late, and he knew I was out of my comfort zone. After that, my comfort zone disappeared.

My friend and I went upstairs after the last band's set to see if they'd be by their merch table, and I wanted to see some other friends from a different band. It's in those moments when I get insecure again. When the rocker Barbies are swooning over the rocker boys. But as another friend of mine pointed out, "You're one of the Barbies now. Every time I see you, you look better." Barton and Scott are two of the nicest guys I know, wild, but nice. They've known me since before I started this journey, and every time they see me, they tell me how amazing I look. Last night, after several beers, the "wow, you look greats" turned into, "DUDE, YOU"RE SO HOT"(mind you, one of them has a girlfriend clad in a corset, tiny hotpants and fishnets). After a chat and a picture, I decided that walking out of my comfort zone had been a great idea. I had a lot of fun last night, and was reminded of how amazing it is to just move to the music, whatever kind it is. I was reminded that once upon a time, there was a rocker girl inside of me who lived for Aerosmith concerts.

The concert last night was a leap of faith I had to take on my own. It was a necessary evil to helping me realize that hiding behind my former self isn't acceptable any longer. Last night, I stepped out of my comfort zone, and it took on a life of it's own, so that today it's much bigger.

People are strange when you're a stranger.

2011-06-30T09:40:00.000-07:00

It seems people like to talk to me. Strangers, especially. Everyone from the deli guy to the seafood guy to the cashier; they all like to talk to me. Even when I'm not in the mood to talk back. Apparently, I have the type of personality that invites conversation. Mind you, it doesn't really bother me, but it is a little annoying sometimes. Weird thing is, it hasn't always been like this. I've noticed over the course of the last couple years as I've gotten skinnier that people are nicer to me. It leads me to really believe that the vast majority of people are prejudice against fatties. I really try deep down to not become one of those with prejudice, but sometimes it's hard when I see people abusing their bodies the way I used to. It makes me think, if I could do it, why can't you? But then I remember, I had to get to the place where I was ready to do it. Some people never get there.

I never really noticed it before because I didn't want anyone to look at me, much less talk to me when I was fat and miserable. Even though I always dressed really nice, did my hair and makeup and made sure I looked presentable before I walked out of the house. But, people didn't talk to me then. Come to think of it, the only people who really talked to me were other big people I ran across in my everyday life.

I try to encourage people I see out on the trail or at the gym who look like I used to, because I forget sometimes how much a stranger's enthusiasm and motivation meant to me. Now that I look the part, fewer people give me thumb's up, or atta girls. So, I try to pass it along. I am turning into that person that people come to for help changing their lives. I've come to grips with that, accepted it, and am ready for the challenge. I am okay with being the girl that everyone wants to talk to, tell their problems to, and get advice from. I'm excited about it even. It's a paradigm shift for me, and sometimes it makes me very self conscious, I'm not gonna lie. But, it's what the universe needs from me. So, go ahead, strangers, talk away. Tell me what's on your mind, ask your questions. Don't be offended by my answers, and don't fancy me a snob because I say things like, I ONLY ran 10 miles today. That's my reality, and it's very different from many other peoples'. But, I'm here to listen, so talk away.

A true milestone

2011-06-28T18:55:00.000-07:00

So in October of 2008, I went to my first Weight Watchers meeting. I was skeptical at best, and was greeted by an over zealous leader who made me want to smack her before she even opened her mouth to greet me. I was wearing the only pants I owned that still fit me, a pair of elastic waist knit gauchos in a size 24 that were best described as tight and a size 22/24 Avenue T-shirt that was also bulging at the seams. I sat through the meeting, and listened intently, to these people talking about points this and core that, and then listened to them celebrate their losses.....and their gains. When it came for joining up, I dutifully stepped on the scale and winced, waiting to hear my starting weight. Mind you, I couldn't tell you the last time I'd been on a scale before that, and I wasn't in any hurry to hop on this one. However, it was what had to be done. The computer beeped, and she said, "Your starting weight is(and she whispered it so I could barely hear it) 289." I was crushed. "Really? I'm that big?" I'd never been close to that size in my life, and a wave of shame washed over me. I didn't seem that big when I looked in the mirror. But then I remembered the pictures from summer vacation that year, remembered looking at them in disgust.

The lady behind the counter, Mary, handed me my beginner books and such, and said, "one pound at a time is the way it's done, Dear." I listened to the leader's getting started session, and thought surely I'd fallen into the 7th circle of Hell or something like it. She talked to me about 5% and 10% goals, and what my ultimate goal weight should be. She touted portion sizes and the importance of weighing and measuring. Ever the skeptic, I listened. The woman in front of me, Helen, was over excitedly talking all about how she had lost 80 pounds, and how WW had changed her life. And so I thought, perhaps it can change mine as well.

I went home from that first meeting, and didn't exactly take to the plan with open arms. I decided to try core first, and after a few weeks of doing it my own way, I caved and started sticking to the points. I worked out diligently riding my beach cruiser and learning to "run" the loop around my neighborhood. Months passed, and the weight slowly came off. I trained for my first 1/2 marathon, then my second, then my third. I logged countless hours at the gym, on the bike, and running the roads. Neighbors and passersby watched me shrink before their eyes and would stop me on the streets to commend my efforts and tell me how inspirational I was.

Life inside my house was a nightmare. Mike had gotten a terrible staph infection, then lost his job, then we lost the Jeep, then he decided he didn't really want to work. I tried to stick to my plan as much as I could. He didn't want anything to do with exercising or keeping the candy out of the house. I started to change, and to not be okay with mediocrity and irresponsibility anymore. I had taken control of my body and started being responsible with it, and thought I should apply those principles to the other aspects of my life. Unfortunately, he didn't really take to that either.

I completed my first full marathon in January of 2010, after losing 70 ish pounds. Life would never be the same. I kept at my plan, and kept losing here and there, but I was going to school and auditioning for grad school, and was desperately seeking a way out of my life. I decided in April of 2010 to leave, and start my own life. Quickly, the pounds started to shed again. I trained for more races, and ran all summer last year. I trained for my second Disney marathon and ran it in January of this year. I pulled someone across the finish line with me who would've quit had it not been for me talking her through the whole thing. I realized my calling that day. Whether it be personal training or counseling, or both, I am meant to coach people.

My own weight loss has stalled at -90# for months on end. My body had gone through muscular changes, but not lost weight. Only a few weeks ago did I start serious weight training in addition to the massive amounts of cardio I do every week. Sunday, life changed again when I came home from running long. I hopped on the scale, as I do every morning like a psycho, and it popped up a number I'd never seen before:186. I nearly passed out. Not only had the scale moved, but it had lept from the 190's into the 180's! And, it had ran past 189, which put me well past the -100# mark.

When I look back at the last 2 1/2 years, it amazes me what I've come through. I never dreamed in a million years that the life I had when I was a fatty wouldn't even resemble in any way the life I have now. I never dreamed I'd be happy living by myself, running a successful business, and carving out my niche in the world. I never dreamed I'd survive the break up of my marriage, or be the one who did the breaking. And I certainly never thought that losing weight would change me on an elemental, cellular level, but it has. When I started WW, I never thought I'd be the person telling people at the meetings how much I've lost and watching them look back at me with adoration, envy, and joy. I'm so close to meeting my goal, and I will not stop until I get it.

Losing 103# is a true milestone, one in a long line of milestones that has changed my life for the better. I have been changed for good. I hope I can help others change for good, too.

A fresh start

2011-05-12T07:03:00.000-07:00

I'm restarting my blog as I restart training after that effing staph infection sidelined me. Before 5.2.2011, I was in the best physical shape of my life, at my lowest weight since 7th grade, and ready to conquer the world. 10 days off, and I'm back down in the shit where I was months ago.
I"m gonna try to post daily, and get out what I need to say about life, training, family, and business. I'm just not a "sit still on the couch person".

I went running today, and managed to keep my paces down below 11/mile for 3 miles......that's all I could handle, a crappy 3 miles. Granted, I've survived 2 massive rounds of soul sucking antibiotics that drained the life right out of me, but still. 3 miles? BARF. I also can't discount the fact that I have an open pit on my shin the size of a dime that looks mildly better everyday. And after my early morning run today, I came home and Cloroxed everything, and I mean everything! This is the second time is 8 months I've had a staph infection. They said I got this bug from the surfaces I touch everyday, and by God, they'll all be clean if it kills me. Next on the list is my car.

I'm heading to Ohio tomorrow for a family wedding, and I must say I'm having a more than serious amount of anxiety about it. I don't get alond well with one of my aunts, who is quite possibly one of the most miserable people I know of. She just doesn't like me. Idk if that's because I'm my mother's daughter and she hates my mom, or if she's just jealous of me that I could actually get out of a bad marriage and live a happy life when she's hiding behind her Bible to keep her in a sham of a marriage for the last 30 years to a man who flagrantly cheats on her. Idk if she's jealous because I'm fit and healthy and kinda hot now, and both her daughters are now the fat ones. It's hard to tell. My goal is to avoid her and her family at all costs. I'll be cordial, but I'm striking up any conversations.

Also, there are some personal milestones happening this weekend that are giving me anxiety. tomorrow will mark the 1 year anniversary of me leaving my husband. I"m trying to not really think about it too much, but it's weighing on me. I'm also going to a wedding for two young people who are broke, without good jobs, and struggling to survive, which might as well be a mirror image of he and I when we got married. I don't advocate getting married under such stress. It didn't work for us, and the stress never really went away. Granted, Idk what their relationship is like, but still, my 7 year weddking anniversary is 2 weeks away, and the similarities are striking and sad.

You see? This is what happens when I sit on my couch for a week! My brain does nothing but think. This is why I run. I run to get my mind some relief from thinking. And even now that I'm back to running, 30 minutes just isn't enough time to decompress my brain. I really hope my legs come back soon, and that I can be out there running 10 miles sooner than later, because at this rate, I"m gonna think myself to death.

A thousand steps in the right direction.....

2011-02-02T10:13:00.000-08:00

As the next marathon comes closer and closer(it's now only 11 weeks away), I find myself struggling to juggle all elements of my life. Even though I don't have kids, I have so many things going on at once that I feel like everyday is scheduled out hour to hour. Between training, going to school, teaching, and trying to get a divorce, I'm exhausted at the end of every day. Granted, I pile all this stuff on myself, but geez, it's hard.

I keep reminding myself everyday that I'm doing all of this for a reason: to get where I want to be. I want to be fit and healthy and I want to be a motivation and inspiration to those around me. I want to be instrumental in getting my community off its couches and out on the sidewalks taking a thousand steps in the right direction.

Some days, like today, all I wanted to do was stay in bed because my legs were tired. Why were they tired? I killed them yesterday. I decided to take it easy today, and only kill my arms after running 4 miles. On other days, I feel like I could run forever, and sometimes I do. But I have to say, it's the days I don't feel motivated that I'll put on my running shoes and hit the road, only to come home and share my run and find that my run has motivated someone else. That's one of the joys of Facebook, I guess. I've had so many people tell me they log on everyday just to read my posts.

So, today I feel a little overwhelmed by life, but tomorrow is a new day. And, everyday I run, I take a thousand more steps in the right direction. I just wish I could find some people to take them with me. Maybe I'll start my own running program.......hmm.

An overdue race report

2011-01-22T15:44:00.001-08:00

It just dawned on me that I never posted my draft of the race report from the Disney Marathon. So, almost 2 weeks later, here it is. Mind you, it's the draft from the day after the race, so it'll be written about "yesterday" even though it's from 2 weeks ago.

My morning started at 2AM, when the allarm went off. I was too jazzed to hit the snooze button, so I got up and ate some breakfast. I started packing all my gear into my Fuel Belt. We headed out at 3:47, and arrived at Epcot at 4:15. All runners had to be at the start line and in their corrals by 5, so Eric and I made the 1 mile walk to the start line with thousands of my closest friends. After 45 minutes of waiting in the freezing cold, in shorts might I add, a great singer did the national anthem, and the first wave took off. There were fireworks and pyrotechnics, and music. Mickey, Minnie, Donald, and Goofy all had on track suits and were dancing. It was good fun.

My goal pace for this race was 12/mile, and so I kept a clost eye on my Garmin for the first couple until I could feel my toes again, just to make sure I wasn't doing anything crazy. I have to say the the first ten miles kinda went by in a blur. I remember some ladybugs from the Mainstreet Electrical Parade(my favorite old school parade at Disney) at mile 2ish, and then running around The World Showcase and ginormouse Xmas tree to mile 4. The next thing I remember is handing Eric my jacket at Mile 10 near the Contmporary, and then running through the Magic Kingdom. I had to get a picture in the same place as last year, with me on Main Street in front of Cinderella's castle.

Once we left MK, it was kinda boring. Running along the back side of the property, there wasn't much to look at, and the road narrowed quite a bit, which meant that we were pretty crowded, and that made it tough to really run well. We ran through the composting and water treatment facility, which was quite smelly, I was super happy to get through there. Around mile 14, my legs started to cramp, and I thought that was because I had slowed down a little bit, so I kept running. By mile 16, my legs locked up completely, and I was running straight into the wall. At the turn of mile 17(somewhere near the back of Animal Kingdom), I stopped, stretched, called Eric for a pep talk, and doubled down on clig bloks and water. As I started back to running, I slowly started to feel better. About then, I noticed a runner who I'd passed before, who'd then pass me, and so forth. She looked like she was in intense pain, and so was I, so I struck up a convo.

It turns out, Gail had been left by her group because her knee was hurting her so much she had to slow her pace way down, and had made a stop at a medical tent for some taping. I asked her if we could run together for a while, and the miles started climbing. My iPhone earbuds had died, and I could use the distraction as well. We talked about kids, weight loss, jobs, animals, hobbies, food, running, you name it. As we ran together, her pain worsened, but I kept up motivating her and changing topics. Mile 18, 19 clicked by and I reminded her at mile 20, that a 10k was nothing. Through Animal Kingdom, we ran the canal between AK and the back gate of Epcot. Gail was in serious pain, and I was hurting pretty well at this point. By mile 23, I had become the motivator to several people running near us. "A 5k is what we eat for breakfast", I said. By this point, we weren't really talking much, just trying to survive the rest of the run.

As we got through the back gates of Epcot, we hit mile 25, and there were a lot more people cheering on the runners. In a lot of pain, I kept reminding Gail that no matter what happened, when she crossed the finish line, SMILE! If this is gonna be your only marathon, at least make sure you have a good picture, right? I found myself being frustrated that the spectators weren't making much noise, so I started getting them pumped. Once we saw that big ass ball, we were at mile 26, and I pushed it into overdrive. Around the corner, there were tons of people and we could see that blessed finish line waiting. I split up from Gail, and reminded her to smile as best she could. With a huge smile on my face, and 2 fingers in the air, I ran over that line, and I can honestly say, it was one of the happiest moments of my life! It was the moment I shoudl have had last year when I ran it, but happily took this year instead.

Once we got our medals, Gail found me, and gave me the biggest hug. She told me that she couldn't have made it to the finish without me, and that I have a great gift for motivating people. She also said that someday, I'm going to make a huge difference in the lives of people who need it most. Between finshing the race and what she said to me, I was in tears. I made my way through the food line and found Eric, stretched, relaxed for a bit, and then went home.
5:29:29 was my finishing time, which makes me super happy. Overall, it was a great experience, and one I will repeat next year as part of my quest to complete the Goofy Challenge!

Thanksgiving, my short list.

2010-11-25T05:32:00.000-08:00

Today is going to be a hard day for me. Today will also be a totally new experience for me. For the first time in my life, I'm either not at home with my family crammed into my Grandma's tiny family room, or cooking a monstrous Thanksgiving meal. Oh, and I'm not with the person who's been the mainstay in my life for 11 years......tiny detail. BUT, I am going to share today with wonderful people who have opened their home to me and Eric. I am taking a broccoli casserole and candied yams, and I'm going to have some fun today, even if I'm not completely sober doing it!

In honor of Thanksgiving, I'm making a short list of things that make my life better, and for that, I'm thankful.

1. My family. Crazy as they are, they're my rock and solid foundation.
2. My mom. The older I get, the more I appreciate her, love her, and respect her for the choiced she has made in life, even when I didn't understand them.
3. Eric. He holds me when I need to cry over a man that isn't him, he makes me laugh so hard I need to cry, and he talks me down when I'm ready for a battle. Mostly, he makes me happy, and that's kind of a big deal.
4. Running. It keeps me sane, even when it's insane how much I do it. I love it, and I can't live without it.
5. My musical abilities. Singing makes me happy, and playing piano de stresses me. Not everyone can do what I do, and I'm so thankful to be one of the blessed people who can.
6. My students. When I'm having a crappy day, they lift my spirits. They make me laugh, and make me cry, and most of all, they make me proud to be a teacher and mentor. I share their successes and failures, and I give each one of them a small piece of my heart in the hopes that they carry it throughout their lives with joy!
7. My friends(both online and in person), as few and far between as they are. They help me see everyday that I am good, and that I have many things to offer many people in this world, some I never even dreamed of.
8. My cat. He loves me unconditionally(as long as there's fresh food in the bowl 2 times a day). he is my best friend and companion, and generally makes my life a happier place to live.
9, My car. It's not fancy or fast or new, but she's reliable and safe. And, she's PAID OFF.
10. My courage. I've made some choices this year that were gutwrenchingly hard. They took courage, and will take perserverance. No matter the mountains I have to climb, I will look back at my journey and realize that was all worth the struggles.

So, today, I will live my life as it is, love my life as it is, and eat until I'm green in the face!

Ugh........the holidays

2010-11-23T19:16:00.000-08:00

As I sit here making my shopping list for Thanksgiving( no, I haven't shopped yet), I'm trying to hold back all the tears that so badly want to get out. I've had a really, really, really hard year. While 2010 was better than 2009, I feel like I've been through a war. I have so much to be thankful for, but I also feel like I've got a giant hole gaping inside my chest that aches for what I've lost. My mom was telling me how much she wishes I was home to help her decorate her Xmas tree, and I can honestly say that I"m more homesick than I've ever been. I just want to be with my family this year for the holidays.

I'm missing elements of my life with Michael. And even though Eric adores me, he can't take away the hurt that I have to muddle my way through and he can't replace my best friend. I know that this hurt will get better with time, but right now, it feels like it's never going to get better.

I've come so far, and I've accomplished so many things. I'm so thankful that I can go out and run 6 miles everyday. I've decided to start studying to be a personal trainer, and that it'll help me with the next chapter of my life. Knowing those things are around the corner help me see past the immediate challenges.

Ok, enough bellyaching. I'll get through it. I always do.

Emotions

2010-11-17T06:35:00.000-08:00

I'm having a hard time coping with life as a single girl, especially with the holidays coming. The one year anniversary of my granfather's death was last weekend, my ex's birthday was last week, and Thanksgiving is next week. Plus, I've been sorting out all the Christmas decorations, deciding what to give the ex and what to keep. Even though I know it's been 6 months since I , every time I go back over there for something, I feel like my heart is getting ripped out of my chest. I miss my house, and my kitties, and I miss him. We were best friends for 11 years, and it's so hard for me to just have that disappear, seeing as how I don't really have that many friends.

My 30th birthday is coming in 3 weeks, and I'm in a little bit of crisis with it. Where I am right now is nowhere close to where I wanted to be when I set my plans out before me 10 years ago. Nothing on my list has been accomplished. Then again, there are some things that weren't on the list that got accomplished, like running marathons! Who knew? But I'm still struggling to get my life together. Every week I keep feeling like the floor is going to drop out from under me.

Just the thought of the holidays this year makes me want to curl up and die. Xmas was our favorite holiday, and we decorated for weeks! I love Xmas. But this year, I just don't know how much I'll be up for. On the up side, my parents are coming to visit me for my birthday, so my mom will probably help me decorate my tiny place. I have enough stuff to decorate 3 apartments for Xmas, so I may not get out any of "our" things, only the things that I've had since before we were together. Plus, my parents coming makes me have to put the finishing touches on my little house. Everything is pink and brown, so I have cute little shadow boxes that I painted to hang and I painted shelves pink/brown, and even screwed hooks into one so I could hang all my medals!

I think I'm settling into life ok, I'm just so emotional about little things. I guess these breaks are all steps up the divorce mountain. Things like deleting him from Facebook caused all out emotional mayhem, but after 6 months, I just don't need him checking up on me, and I don't need to be checking up on him. I'll get through all this. But some days, I cry while I run, because I just need to. I always feel better afterwards. Today might be one of those days.

A Really Hard time

2010-11-07T21:57:00.000-08:00

I think that yesterday may have been one of the hardest days I've ever had, except for the day I left my husband and the day I lost my granfather. Coincidentally, yesterday was the one year anniversary of my grandfather's death, so it was already going to be a hard day without the stuff that happened.

I have been dreading yesterday for a few weeks, and knew it would not be a good day in general. Then I found out that Eric would be at a middle school youth gathering as a leader all weekend, which meant I was to be alone. OK. I figured I'd deal with this by cleaning a lot, and going to a spin class yesterday morning. But before that, I checked my Facebook where some interesting photos of my ex and one of his ex girlfriends in an album entitles "Our vacation MSU Homecoming 2010". Awesome. Not only had he not paid my car insurance(which we had a deal on) for 2 months, letting it cancel and never bothering to tell me, but he spent 3 weeks of October travelling everywhere from Pittsburgh to San Francisco to our college town to celebrate homecoming with an ex..... Perfect! That pissed me off enough that I deleted him, and all his family members and friends. I guess I figured I don't wanna be with him, but I'm not so sure I'm ready to see him be with someone else, let alone an ex.

so I went spinning, and hard.... On my way home from spinning(which was amazing, by the way), the texted my ex to see if I could get some of the Xmas decorations to start seperating them and try to get one step closer to cutting the ties. This of course, turned out to be a fatally flawed plan, since he, of course, just had to jab me a couple times to make sure I'm still me. So, what was already a shitty day turned into a screaming match in his garage full of statements that have been coming for a long time but that I never figured I'd get the chance to say. And, because I'm a crier, I cried.......a lot. And he cried, which made me cry more. EFF!!! Why did I go there? And I get so tired of hearing from him how I'm so cold, and I put up such a wall. What he just doesn't get is that I'm shattered into a million tiny pieces on the inside and that, while I don't want to married to him anymore and don't really miss the marriage, I still miss him. I can't just flip a switch and turn off all the feelings i have after 11 years together. AAAHHH!

Once I made it out of there, I booked it home to pull myself together becasue I had made dinner plans with a friend and her family to celebrate a birthday. So I covered up my puffy eyes, and redid my makeup, fluffed my hair, and put on some nice clothes. It's really amazing what makeup can do for a face!! LOL. I managed to have a really great time with them last night, and really forgot about my internal pain for a couple hours. Of course, it all came back down on me once I got home and sat in my tiny apartment alone with the cat for a while.

If I've learned one thing about myself recently, it's that more and more I can throw myself wholly into my sport. Today I sprang out of bed, dug out my cold weather running gear, and hit the road for the easiest 10 miles I've ever run. My brain tuned out so severely that I barely remember running. I've learning that the harder my life gets, the easier my runs get because I can channel that pain or anger or frustration into my feet and make them fly. I'm learning that a really hard time can mean a really good, hard run.

Miami Beach Halloween Half Marathon Race Report

2010-11-02T20:05:00.000-07:00

Sunday morning started very early! I stayed out kinda late Saturday night, and so when the alarm clock went off at 4:30AM, I wasn't so amused. I got up, got dressed in my bee costume, and sprinkled myself with tons of glitter. Because we weren't sure about how long the shuttles would take, we decided to drive to the start line. We realized too late that taking the shuttle was really the best thing to do, and will do that next year.

At the start line, I took in all the sights and sounds of a small race. Mostly, the costumes were a lot of fun to see. Much to my dismay, there were lots of bees, although mine was the cutest, if I do say so myself. The guy who ran with who ran in the stars and stripes thong definately got my shock and sympathy, since I know he was chaffing like crazy by the end of the race. The girl who forgot to cover her butt also got my attention, but only long enough for me to pass her.

While waiting for the gun, the skies opened up and poured rain for about 5 minutes raising the humidity from tolerable to suffocating. The first mile was across the causeway from Jungle Island into Miami Beach, and the chance to really look at the massive cruise ships docked was a lot of fun! Plus, looking at the people on the boats looking back at us was quite interesting. Miles 2 and 3 were along the waterfront marinas where all the huge private yachts are docked, and being that I love boats so much, it awesome to peak into the lives of rich people. I must say that the concrete sidewalks weren't my favorite.

I was wearing my Garmin, so I knew how many miles I clicked off, being that we didn't see a mile marker until mile 4. Miles 5 and 6 were along the beachside but still on concrete sidewalks, that wound through the big parks that offered a great view of the beach and a lovely breeze. Miles 7-11 were actually run along a narrow boardwalk that allowed no more than 4 people across to run, making if crowded and difficult to pass. The saving grace of the boardwalk was watching the winners and faster runners go by on their way back towards the finish and the chance to see some of the most iconic resorts on South Beach up close. On a side note, the guy running behind thong man looked like he was in misery having to run behind a full moon for 10 miles!

While my pace was staying really steady between 11:15-11:30, running along a wet wooden boardwalk really made my legs tired. I must say, I don't really remember much about the first 6 miles, so the boardwalk miles are really my first coherent memories, and they were fast miles. I really started passing people much smaller than me, who should've been in better shape, but who were actually struggling to keep going. At this point, I was clicking off miles at 11:15, which is quite speedy for me at 1/2 mary pace.

By the time mile 11 hit, we were off the boardwalk back onto the same concrete park paths we had run earlier. After running on soft wood for almost 5 miles, the concrete hit my legs hard and immediately started making me tired quickly. I juiced up on some extra blocks with an extra caffeine boost in them to try to encourage some energy. Mile 12 hit on a short stretch of street where the folks eating breakfast at sidewalk cafes were cheering us on. The worst part of the whole race was the small but mighty hill at 12.5 that led into Nikki Beach where the finish line was staged. We ran around the park, and I saw Eric waiting for me with the camera, and a fair amount of people cheering.

I had been keeping a close eye on my time, and knew that I was on pace to finish in under 2:30:00, and as I rounded the bend to the finish, I saw looked up at the clock to see that I would finish in 2:28 and something. So with a smile on my face, I managed to finish the Miami Beach halloween half mary in 2:28:43! I Pr'd by over 14 minutes since my last 1/2 mary in May. I've never finished a race feeling that good, or looking that cute!

The medal is super cute( and part of the reason I did it to begin with). The post race party was pretty good. I would have liked to hear some music or at least an announcer to call people across the finish line. There was plenty of water being handed out, along with free "Mix" protein shakes that are actually really tasty! The huge food tent posed a serious problem, because after running 13 miles, nobody wants to stand in line for 20 minutes to get tacos?! I went for the muffins, fruit and bagels, and let Eric eat the tacos. Another major gripe I have is that the bathroom's at the finish line were almost 1/4 mile away from the actual finish line and were not stocked well, so I had to ask some random guy to get TP from the men's bathroom. As it turns out, hundreds of people ended up getting off course in the first mile and running 13.5 miles instead of 13.1, however I wasn't one of those ppl.

All in all, it was a novelty race, and was pretty fun. I enjoyed running in my costume, and the chance to PR. I don't know if I'll do it again next year, but at least it was a good experience.

An ounce of encouragement....

2010-10-22T11:04:00.000-07:00

Yesterday in my Weight Watchers meeting, I coined a phrase......."An ounce of encouragement is worth a pound of fat!". Not only did it get a laugh, but I think it rang true for so many people in there. And it definately rings true for me, otherwise I wouldn't have said it.

Everyday I get out of bed, dutifully eat my WW friendly breakfast, and wait 45 minutes until I can get my running gear on and hit the pavement for however many miles my training plan says I should. Some days are easier than others. Some days I leave my house with a sense of impending doom and some days I leave knowing that it's gonna be an amazing run.

This week in particular has been a week of ups and downs. My stress level this week has been through the roof dealing with Halloween costumes of all things, finances, ex's of all kinds, and families, both biological and non bilogical. The up days, I don't need encouragement from other people, because I have it to give to myself. The down days, like today, I needed it. And although I left my house knowing it would be a good run, my brain was needing just a little bit of help.

I got help today in more than one way. Yesterday, I bought the black cherry clif bloks with a full shot of caffeine in them, and needless to say, after eating one, my brain cracked out and my legs were flying. But as good as I felt, I knew that the good feeling wasn't coming from me, it was coming from the drug I had coursing through my veins. But then, someone smiled at me while I was running, and I smiled and waved back, and suddenly, a drug of a different kind went through my veins. Encouragement from other people is the best thing that an athlete can get while plugging away on the pavement. Runners are a generally friendly lot of people, save for maybe the truly elites who are so into what they're doing that they couldn't possible spare a moment to smile at someone else. Most runners are feeling either the same exhileration or pain as me and could use the same motivation as me. And so, today as I felt my legs getting heavy and my caffeine buzz wearing off, a smile gave me the energy to keep going. Because after all, encouragement is positive reinforcement that what I'm doing is good. That turns into motivation, and motivation turns me into a former fatty. So, the next time I feel like I need to stop, I'm gonna find someone to smile at, and hopefully they'll smile back. Because an ounce of encouragement is worth a pound of fat! :)

Training, and training some more

2010-10-12T12:00:00.000-07:00

I have had the best couple weeks where my running is concerned. I thought I was gonna have to start all over with my training, but it turns out, I just had to go back a couple weeks. I'm always amazed at what this body of mine can do. Last week I clocked 28 miles. I'm on tap to clock mid 30's this week. Now if only I could get the scale to move as quick as my legs, life would be grand.

Yesterday, I went out for 12 miles, knowing that I have a 1/2 mary in 3 weeks, and need a good long run under my belt. I decided to try some new clif bloks, and venture into the world of caffeine. The first three miles were pretty hard, but after that, it got easier. I'm trying to run progressive long runs, meaning that I start slow and progressively get faster so that closer to the end, I'm closer to my 1/2 mary race pace. This also means that I spend longer running faster, so my body gets conditioned to it. Surprisingly, I held off on the caffeinated bloks until the last 5-6 miles, and they really did help with a little energy boost towards the end. I was expecting my heart rate to jump and to possibly get nauseous, but I didn't!

It's been 5 months since my last 1/2 mary, and I'm so excited about running this one in 3 weeks! Since it's on Halloween, I'm making a bumblebee costume for myself! It should be so cute. And this is also the first year that I'm feeling confident enought to wear a slightly sexy outfit for Halloween parties. I'm making myself a flapper girl dress in bright red! It should be really cute. Eric is gonna dress as a 20's gangster, complete with fedora and tie to match me! I'm so stoked. And I can't wait for Halloween!

Change is a constant.

2010-09-27T10:27:00.000-07:00

I've spent two years running, now, and losing all this weight. I've built my finess level up so that I can run 5 miles 4 days a week, and run long every weekend. I planned first to do Vegas and then had to change my plans because I won't have the money. Then, I put my heart and soul into training for Disney again. And then the staph infection hit me.

10 days ago, I went to the E.R. with an abscess under my arm that just came from nowhere. After my arm swelled up to twice its size after the abscess was drained, and then bruised horribly, I had to tolerate the anitibiotics. And let me just say that massive doses of antibiotics plus a staph infection equal the inability to do anything. My body literally felt worse than after I ran the marathon. And, I wasn't allowed to run at all until it healed up. Even then, when I ran last week, I could barely make it more than 3 miles. So after 10 days of pills, and virtually no exercise, I've had to change my marathon plans yet again, much to my dismay.

I ran today on the TM, to take it easy on the body, and lifted weights, and I feel pretty good. It frustrates me that I have lost some of my endurance that I worked so hard to build, but I will build it back and it'll be pretty quickly, so I'm not too worried. The marathon I picked to run will not be until February, so I have plenty of time to get my fitness up.

I guess I can live with change, not that I like it all that much. But, I don't guess I really have a choice. As long as I'm healthy, none of it really matters anyway.

Operation: Life

2010-09-13T21:06:00.000-07:00

OY!! The past couple weeks have been simply insane! Between knee pains and car repairs and paying rent, and Eric going out of town, I haven't had much time to breathe. This whole living by myself, paying my bills like a responsible adult thing is kinda hard! Although, I'm still behind on some things, I only have 1 car payment left!!! Now, if I can only keep it running and in good shape until it's paid off...............

Eric got a job after 5 months of being unemployed, it's a doosy! He job a great job with a really cool company that uses iPod touches to run silent auctions at charity events, kind of like ebay, only way more expensive! This whole week he's in Indianapolis for training, and I'm not a happy camper. But, he's gonna get paid really, really well, and when he has events, I can work them and make some extra money on the side! Plus, I get to travel around the state some. We're going to Fort Lauderdale in a couple weeks, and I've never been, so I'm super excited!!

Operation Las Vegas has turned into Operation Disney 2.0, sadly. It's not for certain yet, but Vegas is gonna be very expensive, more so than I thought originally, so I doubt it's gonna happen. Lucky for me, the Disney Marathon is only 4 weeks after, so I can still keep my current training plan in motion and make it work for disney. It may actually work out better because I've been having an overuse pain in my left knee that is taking its sweet time going away. Better to slow down on my own than to be forced to stop by an injury. I have several races coming up in the next few weeks, so I'm gonna stay busy trying to get my 1/2 mary times down.

I've taken back up my old hobby of knitting to try to quell my late night hungry attacks. I find that having something to concentrate on makes me forget about being "hungry". It's so tough to break those very ingrained habits like that. Eating late at night has been my thing forever, and it doesn't help that I"m a night owl anyway.

I'm hoping life slows down a little bit and business speeds up! I'm picking up students slowly, but surely, and it's taking some of the financial pressure off. I'm just glad I don't have kids. Alhtough, my biological clock practically wakes me up every morning reminding me that I'm turning 30 in less than 3 months. UGH. I'll survive the chaos; I always do. I just don't always survive it sane.

Good days and bad days

2010-08-16T07:57:00.000-07:00

When I started this training plan set forth by my brother, it looked hard. I mean, really hard. It's more miles than I've ever run, with more intense workouts than I've ever done. But I thought, why not? I'm in the best shape of my life and I feel great. Then came August in the great state of Florida. The temps have been near 100* everyday with humidity just as high. And to a runner who isn't so keen on getting up at 5am, it sucks the soul right out of me.

So yesterday was my weekly long run, and naturally Saturday night I didn't get in bed early like I was supposed to, I stayed at Eric's house kinda late and then came home. But I was energized, so I put away my laundry and picked up some around my house. And before I knew it, it was after midnight. This didn't bode so well for a 5am long run, which ultimately turned into a 10am long run. The problem? Staying in bed meant I had to do my Long run on the treadmill at the gym. BLEH!

Obediently, I headed to the gym on my bike, gel bloks and water bottle in hand. Lucky for me, there was good tv on, so I didn't get too bored, and the miles started to click by. The treadmill is so deceiving, and that's why I hate it. Not to mention the fact that it effs up my stride so that by the time I was done my calves and hamstrings were so tight I could barely walk. It gives me a false sense of speed. Granted, I did my 12 miles at 11:15/mile pace, which is rockin, but on the road, that's not my pace. I'd love it to be my pace, but it's not. Actual human propulsion is what makes the legs go on the road, not the belt under me. Anyway, it was a great run, except that my heart rate monitor chest strap died. Then I went to work and then bowling. Needless to say, yesterday was a long day.

Today's run, not so great. I got up thinking I'll go out for 4-5 miles for some recovery. Little did I know that between the weather being miserably hot/humid, my iPhone/iPod screwing up, and my legs being tired that whatever miles I did get today would be hard won. So, today I will chalk up to a bad run. 4 miles is 4 miles, nonetheless, but they sucked. And I think the battery in my Garmin HRM strap is dying. WTF. At least I got my miles today. I had runs like this(well maybe not this bad) last week, and I'll have them next week. Until the weather cools down some, my miles are gonna be tough to get every week, and I guess I can't expect every single run to be great, but I can hope right?

A really great run.

2010-08-09T07:30:00.000-07:00

As I begin week 4 of Operation:Las Vegas, I can feel myself getting stronger already. The elite runners and coaches of the world say that the more miles you run, the more miles you can run. I'm beginning to realize just how true this is.

I thought I was surely going to die by the end of week 1. By the end of week 2, I was adjusting, but still exhausted. Last week was the first week where I actually clocked all the miles I was supposed to, and felt good about it. Granted, the 2:00:00 long run last weekend nearly killed me, but making the body do something new is usually never fun(ok, sometimes it's fun, but where exercise is concerned, not so much).

This weekend I spent at the beach, having fun with the new guy and his kids. We celebrated the oldest daughter's birthday by having a cupcake party, where I spent all afternoon Saturyda baking cupcakes, and then we all decorated them Saturday evening. We stuck candles in 14 of them and sang and the whole nine yards. Fun! The eating of the cupcakes? A bad plan. I didn't get to 300# by saying no to cupcakes. However, life goes on, and today, there are no cupcakes to be seen. Sadly, while at the beach, I coulcn't manage to get my long run because the humidity was monstrous.

So, today I got up and did my long run. And it's amazing to me how easy it was! I did 10 miles last Sunday, and suffered all the way through. Of course, that was the first 10 miler I'd done since May when I did my last 1/2 mary. Yesterday's long run was only to be 7 miles, so I went out this morning thinking I'd do 8, and get one of this week's miles outta the way. The sky was completely overcast, there was a breeze blowing, and my legs felt great. The more I run, the more my legs feel better running faster. My goal today was to have 35-40 minutes of marathon pace running, meaning that my normal 11:45-12:00 pace for long runs needed to average 11:30/mile for 35-40 minutes to get my legs used to running faster for longer periods of time, since the marathon will most likely take me 5 hours +. Wonder of wonders, my legs kicked it into high gear, and just went. I'm learning to lean back so that my legs and hips are rotating properly, instead of leaning forward. And when my headphones died at mile 6, I was relieved that I could just concentrate on listening to my foot falls and breathing. As I listen to each foot fall, I can stop any dragging that happens when I lean too far forward, and really feel my feet.

Week 4 is shaping up to be a great week. Unfortunately, I'm going to have to double up and run twice one day this week to get all my miles, but my brother/coach does that all the time, so it must be ok. I'm so in tune with my body that I can't imagine how I didn't do this earlier in my life. It feels so good to know what's going on, and to be able to get through everyday without caffeine and sugar and just exist on human energy.

I'm looking forward to having a good week, if today's run is any indication. The more miles I run, the more I want to run. Where can I go wrong?

The people around you.

2010-08-04T18:03:00.000-07:00

I'm learning slowly but surely that the people I surround myself have a serious effect on my mood. For example, a short conversation with the ex stresses me out to no end, and makes me thankful that he's going to be my ex by law soon. A short conversation with a friend of mine who is still pretty obese and generally negative can bother me for days, and kinda make me feel like shit in the midst of the conversation. And a non conversation with my new fella( as in just being around him), makes me feel some peace, if even just for a few minutes. A conversation with the wellness director at my gym can make me feel like I've already conquered the world and now have the universe to take care of, but that's it's possible to do.

I wonder then, why is it so hard to let go of the people who adversely affect my mood, and therefore, my mental well being? Why do I insist on keeping these people around? I suppose in some ways, I'm afraid to let go of my ex, who has been a major part of my life for the last 11 years, since I was 18. And we've gone through some major shit together, but ultimately can't be together. And the fact that I haven't felt this good is years, both mentally and physically means that somewhere along the line, I've made the right decision to leave him.

My mom told me a long time ago that I would probably lose every friend I have because the changes in me wouldn't be comfortable for the fatties in my life. At the time, I though she must be crazy, but as time always tells, moms are usually right. And so only one fatty remains my friend, but she's the most miserable person I know. And when I told her last week about dropping below 200#, she said, "Congratulations.....bitch. :)". And so even though she said it in jest, I know deep down that really she meant it. And it's just impossible for her to be happy for me. I'm not really afraid of losing her as my friend, but mostly I feel sorry for her, and so I stick around hoping she'll get it together one of these days. I don't know how much longer I'll stick around for that, though. She's 42 and the odds aren't looking good.

The new fella just makes me feel good. I haven't laughed like I do with him in a long, long, long time. And I haven't felt a sense of calm like this maybe ever. Of course, that calm goes away when we go about our seperate lives, but while he's around, he leans on me, and I lean on him. And the fact that he's a little older means he knows how to handle me and my craziness. Because as much as I've calmed down over the last 20 months, as much as I've become a better person, I'm still a handful of neuroses and type A personality traits!

Bottom line, I never realized how much my life would change when I started all this, but sometimes, I can't really believe this is my life. And I never would have thought that I'd be as sensitive as I am to other people's effects on me as I am. It really makes me stop and think about who I interact with. And truthfully, I have a choice everyday about who I deal with, so I suppose just making better food choices, I should start making better people choices.

My mom told me a long time ago when I started losing weight that I'd probably lose every friend I have because the change in me will not be comfortable for the fatties in my life.

I chafe, therefore I am.....

2010-08-03T19:24:00.000-07:00

I can honestly say the last 10 days has been a roller coaster. I've run so much, I'm chaffed everywhere I can possibly chafe, I've been sore in places unknown to have muscles, and I've laughed and cried. It's just too much for one person sometimes.

Last week was just hectic with all kinds of work, and working out. It's been hard getting my body back into the swing of this much exercise, especially all the running I'm doing outside. But, I'm getting there. Every morning I get up a little easier and get my legs going a little faster. The heat/humidity are still are huge factor, but it only makes the body stronger to run in these conditions.

I had an awesome day Friday at SeaWorld! I haven't been there in a couple years, because I had gotten too big to fit on the roller coasters. Now that I'm getting skinny, it was a whole new experience to ride them! I had so much fun(that would be the laughter part)! Unfortunately, Saturday morning, I got up to find my kitty and constant companion in severe pain from a blocked urethra, which is the same condition that nearly killed him 2 years ago. So, from fun to agony in 24 hours(that would be the crying part). Luckily, we caught it early, and after 3 days in the hospital and $500, he's back home good as new, and super happy to be with me!

I've run 21 miles over the last 3 days, including 10 miles Sunday (for which I got up at 4:30am), 5 miles yesterday as recovery, and 6 miles today that included speed work. I'm chaffed under my arms?!, all the way around my body from my HRM chest strap, and a couple unmentionable places as well. Seriously?! After all this time running, now I'm starting to chafe really bad, and no amount of bodyglide can make it stop or prevent it! UGH! So, I'm so sore it hurts to breathe, and my legs hurt to move in anyway. I'm so glad tomorrow is just a spin class day!

And it's late again. I keep thinking I will just get in bed super early, get up super early, and get done all the things I need to get done. But, my legs get restless late at night, especially when they're this sore. And the chaffing burns, so I'm just generally uncomfortable. But, what does all this mean? I chafe, I'm sore, and I have to get up go workout in the morning, therefore I. am. a. runner. I love saying that.

A personal triumph

2010-07-20T17:00:00.000-07:00

Today was day 2 of Operation Las Vegas.

I got up feeling pretty tired. I checked the weather at 7:45 am, and the humidity was 92% and the heat index was aready 86*, which meant there was no way I was getting a quality run in. Today's scheduled mileage was 5, so I opted to ride my bike to the gym, and hit the treadmill. Great decision!

I believe the key for me running distance on the treadmill is to read. I used to watch tv, but that just doesn't let my mind wander. Plus, the angle forces me to arch my back and messes up my breathing. So, I read Runner's World that I'm 2 months behind on. Before I knew it, 3 miles clicked by and I upped my speed a little. By mile 4, I felt awesome, and kicked up the speed again. I finished 5 miles in 54:45, which is a triumph for me! That's a sign of how fit I really am. And I must say, to still be 200#, I'm freaking fit!

I'm also ending day 4 of being sugar free. I think I'm through the worst of the cravings, so hopefully I should do pretty well with this. Although, the new fella is bringing me a beignet back from New Orleans, and it's a fried sugary thing that may ruin me. But, I'm tracking and saving my points for it. A girl deserves a treat from time to time.

Tomorrow is a new day and a spin class!!! Yay!!

OPERATION: Las Vegas

2010-07-19T13:21:00.000-07:00

A lot of exciting things have happened today, and it's not even over yet!

I officially restarted my Las Vegas Rock n Roll Marathon training program. This week's mileage is 25, which totally doable, I just have to get up and get it done. After running 9 miles yesterday, running 3 today seemed like a near waste of time, except that anymore would've made my legs too tired. Tomorrow I will run 5.

Whilst at the gym, my personal trainer came up to me asked me to this really awesome relay!! It's part of the Ragnar Relay series, and it's insane! A 12 person team runs 120 miles over 24 hours, running 3 legs each! We pile into 2 cars/vans with 6 ppl each, and 3 volunteers who go ride with us and feed us, and cheer for us. It sounds just so insane I have to do it! It was just really cool that she even thought of me.

I'm on day 3 of the no sugar life again. I have such strong cravings for sugar that I just get out of control with it. My body drops weght so fast when I'm "clean" and I feel so much better. its gonna take me a week solid to detox, but if I can live through it, next week will be so much better! Plus, with me working more, my stress levels will be less, therefore making sugar cravings better, I hope. But, jeez is this a tough habit to break. I don't know honestly why I went back to it after having given it up for Lent. I may allow myself some treats here and there, but I'm gonna continue it as long as I can.

I hope the rest of the week keeps on as well as today is going.

A rough week

2010-07-18T07:50:00.000-07:00

This past week has been a little stressful.

The guy I'm seeing left on a church youth trip to New Orleans for five days. One of my best friends relocated to New Orleans permanently. And I found out that the ex's family is coming to town next week on vacation, and it'll be the first time I'm excluded from visiting, and I"m kinda having a hard time with that.

I didn't get much exercise in. I'm just so unfocused.

Tomorrow officially restarts my marathon training program. In preparation, I cranked out 9 miles today. Running in the heat is awful, but it's still better than the treadmill. I'm gonna keep running outside as long as I can, but I may have to do some treadmill work over the next few weeks, since the heat is really getting out of hand down here.

I must admit that I'm a little nervous about being able to get my discipline back. My life has changed so much. It was easy hitting the road/gym 6 days a week when I was miserable at home. But now, my personal life is so happy and some days I just don't wanna get out of bed and go run. We'll see how it goes, but I'm just hoping I can get my mojo going again.

For right now, I'm going to sit by the pool and rest my legs. I might even take a poolside nap!

Focus, or total lack thereof.

2010-07-09T10:04:00.000-07:00

As I'm reading about everyone picking races for the Fall months, and getting started on new training plans, it's coming into sharp focus that I'm not focused at all. My brother handed me a new training plan on vacation that is ambitious and greuling at best, but will have me in amazing shape and able to run a 5:00:00 marathon by December. The problem? I thought it started July 5th, but we miscalculated the weeks, and it doesn't start until July 17th. So this leaves me with another week and a half to wander around doing as I please, which is never a good thing.

Aside from that, being on my own is hard stuff. The summer months are the hardest for my business because a lot of students tend to take off the summer from private piano/voice lessons. So, I'm struggling with money when i'm used to having another person's income to help me. That stuff weighs on me heavily, and it's so easy for me to turn back to my immense and overwhelming love of sugar to get me through. I think I'm gonna have to go back off sugar completely in order to get my brain right because if really does mess with my moods and such.

On the up side, my YMCA is hiring a front desk person for part time, and they basically told me I have the job, since I practically live there anyway. Who else is better to sell memberships than one of their most devoted and grateful members? Nobody. So, that will help some. Plus, If I'm in a healthy environment instead of sitting at home, I'll be more likely to eat better and be more motivated to workout. Is that logic flawed? I think not.

With all that said, I'm gonna try harder this next week to get out of bed and go running or at least hit the bike. I've recently discovered spinning and I love it so much! So, that may be what gets me through the summer months here in Florida. And, although today's run was hot, the humidity wasn't too awful, so if I just suck it up, I'll get my miles in every week.

I really, really want to run that marathon on my birthday, so I'll do what I have to do to get my body in shape for the race requirements. It scares me to death to think about paying all that money for the race and to get to Vegas and not be able to finish in the max time. But I just think back to last year when finishing in 6:00:00 was the goal, to now thinking about 5:00:00, and I know I'll do it. I just need to get focused.

Marathon training and life in general

2010-07-05T20:02:00.000-07:00

So today officially started my second full marathon training program! I'm super stoked about it, except that it's really intense, which I asked for, so I can't really complain much. My brother gave me a lot more slack to create it this time around, and it took me forever to put it all together today, but I got it done.

I'm really going to try to document my training online this time. So, in that spirit, here goes.

Today I got up much later than anticipated, and didn't get outside until 10 something......Lucky for me, it was totally overcast with a breeze, so it wasn't a miserable as it could've been. My legs felt really good, but I hadn't run in 4 days so I didn't want to over do it. I only 3.25 miles, but then did some major core work and squats just for good measure.

On to the life part.

I've kind of been seeing someone, which is for me a sure sign that I was way over my marriage before I really knew it. Sad, but true. Anway, he's older and has two daughters who make life a whole lotta complicated. I'm not good at dealing with other people's stress on top of my own. I have enough to deal with just managing my life. Throw someone new into that mix, and it's kind of volatile. I knew he was going out of town with his girls for 3 days starting today, then mid way through the day, after I'd already made plans, he tells me he's dropping off his girls at his mom's and is coming back to town tonight. So, I get all excited about it, and then, again at the last minute, he backs out. And so now, I'm pissed. I just don't really know how to not let someone else ruin my mood. Can someone explain that to me? So my great evening out with a girlfriend just got trashed by someone else. Awesome.

Bed is a reboot button. I think I'll hit it now.

Vacation Recap

2010-06-28T00:10:00.000-07:00

Being back home is harder than I though it would be, even though i thought I was soooo ready to be here. although, being on vacation was really hard, too, so I guess I'm just at a point where everything is hard on me.

Let me just say that getting trapped in van for 10 hours with my super religious step sister and her husband was not my idea of a great drive to Myrtle Beach, but it turned out mostly ok because I slept A LOT. The fact that they wouldn't listen to the radio unless it was christian pop was enough to make me wanna kill myself and no amount of reading Cosmo could spice up the conversation. That said, the trip down was mostly uneventful.

Once we got there, we got rooms picked out, and yours truly got sent to the kids room, since I didn't have to have my own room this, me being single and all. FUN! So that not only meant not having a car, but also not having any private space that wasn't also shared with kids. And me in a house with 9 kids 3-13 was also not optimal because withough the hubby around, I had no buffer to be able to get away from it all. Needless to say by Monday, I had cabin fever so bad I was about to start walking back to Orlando.

My mom is awesome at crafts and so every morning we had craft time with all the kiddos around the table, and of course I helped. Sunday was "foamie" day, and Monday was "paint your own picture frame" day, which was so much fun to help with, watching the kids mix and match paints. The idea was to find sea shells and glue them to the frames as a reminder of our trip. We also went for the first crab hunt Monday night, which consists of our group wearing crazy crab hats wandering around the beach looking for poor, unsuspecting crabs to chase.
Tuesday was "paint your lobster day". Not nearly as fun as picture frames.

In the midst of all the craft craziness, I did manage to spend an enormous amount of time at the beach and spend some quality time with my oldest brother and SIL, who are the marathoners. And I managed to run Sunday and Monday. It was kinda fun to listen to my brother whine about how hot it was, especially since I have been training in this heat for weeks now. Did I mention that Monday after my run my iPhone fell off the second story railing to its concrete death?? Yeah. That pretty much killed my vacation mood. It still works, the screen is just destroyed, as in the liquid crystal stuff inside exploded. Fun.

Lets also not forget all the weird family dynamics that take place on one of these "shove your whole family in a house for one week and see who survives" vacations. 21 people who don't see each other much makes for some very interesting interactions. Although, I've always been the black sheep, so that didn't really change much, and I just kinda did my own thing as much as possible and the let the parents keep their kids. I did not offer to babysit. I don't babysit.

By Tuesday, I was ready to come back. The kids were on my nerves, I was anxious to get back to work, and I was generally over the beach. My mom, step sister and I went to our favorite gift shop Tuesday afternoon to peruse the AMAZING Christmas store they have, and shop for various other gifts and such. One of our favorite artists/ sculptors, Jim Shore, has a cat collection that I just love, and two years ago she bought me the Curiosity killed the cat angel. This year, we decided we would buy "Patience" the cat, since that's what I need most in my life right now. That evening my two brothers, their families and I went out to a Japanese steakhouse for our bi annual dinner, and had a pretty good time. Tuesday night was music night, which was actually a lot of fun. As the kids get older, they get more fun I think. Listening to them sing and watching them dance was just a hoot.

Wendesday morning I was up early to help my mom prepare tie dye t shirts. I'm pretty sure my fingers will never be the same after tying rubber bands around a dozen shirts. But she said they turned out amazingly and I can't wait to get mine in the mail! Although, she bought me an XL, and was kinda disappointed when I told her I'd have to use it as a night shirt, since and XL is too big, thankuverymuch.

By 10, I was itching to get on a plane. so, I said my goodbyes, got on the plane and came home. By the time I got back, my other step sister was in labor 4 weeks early, and boy was I glad to have gotten outta the house before that all went down. That would have just been too much for me to handle. I was having a hard enough time dealing with the kids as a freshly seperated woman whose biological clock wakes her up every day.

Between the TOM coming on and leaving my family, I went through a really rough couple days Thursday and Friday. I'm still not completely myself. And since I sprained my ankle Wednesday I'm not able to run for a couple more days just to make sure it's healed. And since it's TOM, I'm eating everything in sight, so I'm not really into tracking right now. But, tomorrow is the start of a new week, and I'll get back on the wagon.

Another vacation gone. Back to reality.

Vacation

2010-06-22T10:20:00.000-07:00

This is just a short post whilst on vacation to check in and share the complicated life I'm leading with my followers.

So far, vacation has been great! I'm pretty relaxed, despite my phone getting destroyed yesterday, and having to figure all that out. I'm having a great time hanging with my mom, and brothers, and just chilling out. Although, I'll admit that being single has its drawbacks. For one, I have no car and am at the mercy of everyone else when I wanna go somewhere. For another, I've been demoted to the "kids" room, to sleep in bunkbeds with my nieces..,....fun. And, I kinda feel like everyone is feeling a little bit sorry for me and tip toeing around me a bit. EESSH.

I have 3 "sisters" here, two sisters in law and one step sister. What amazes me about them is that one is a marathoner and super skinny and athletic and the other two are what they consider "fat". What cracks me up? They refuse to wear bathing suits and swim and enjoy their children or the beach because they perceive themselves as fat. And then there's me. The former fatty turned athlete who flaunts what she's got, size 12 or not, proudly for all to see. So, I can imagine that doesn't do much for their self image, being that I'm loving the way I look right now. Even two years ago at size 26, I still put on my bathing suit and rocked the beach.

Whatever.

I'm heading back to Orlando tomorrow to work, and will post a comprehensive vacation recap once back and getting some spare time.

The resposible and right thing to do.

2010-06-15T19:26:00.000-07:00

Every two years, my parents rent a HUGE beach house in Myrtle Beach, and invite my sigblings and offspring to come ! I wildly anticipate this week every two years, and am super excited that it's next week.......finally! the problem? I'm self employed, and if I don't work, I don't make make money. I'm the only person I know who is too broke to go on a FREE vacation! I mean, Hell's bells, my mom is even paying for my plane fare and everything while I'm there! But, since the split, I'm on my own financially, and that means I can only depend on me to bring in the cash.

So, last night, I made the decision to go and only spend 4 days at the beach with my family, instead of the whole 8 days. Making this decision was so hard because I never get to spend time with my mom and siblings without the added pressure of other family visiting. But, I didn't want to spend my whole vacation stessing about money, and being broke when I got back. I feel pretty good about my decision to leave halfway through the week because I can come back next week and still get most of my teaching done, so I won't lose much money.

The funniest part about the whole thing is, when I called my mom to talk about it, she hung up and said she was ok with it. But then she called me back to specifically tell how proud she was of me for making a decision that was the right and responsible thing to do. I guess that's just another example of how much I've changed. But it also goes to show how bad the decisions I used to make were, if I actually do something responsible and it catches my mom off guard.

Anyway, I'm super excited to go to the beach for as long as I'm there! I'm nearly 90# lighter than I was last time 2 years ago, and looking pretty amazing. I actually pulled out a pic from last vacation, and that girl doesn't even look like me.

It's so hard to make responsible decisions, but in the end, they're the right thing to do. And, surprisingly I'm under so much less now than I was 2 days ago. I guess doing the right and responsible thing really isn't such a bad thing.

2010-06-10T14:36:00.000-07:00

It's hard for me to fathom that it's been over 6 months since I updated my blog, but now seems as good a time as any to restart it. Many, many changes have taken place in my life, some good, some not so good. And, being I've lost my two best friends in this world, I don't have many people to talk to about it, so I might as well share it with my online friends.

Who knew that losing weight would throw into perspective that everything in my life was broken? Really.

The person who I though was my best friend, outside my marriage, decided that she just couldn't be friends with someone as neurotic about losing weight as I am, and so, she dropped me like a bad habit sometime around last christmas. The truth? Fat people don't like having skinny friends because it forces them to face up to the fact that they're fat because they're lazy, or maybe that's just the case with this one person. But that's been my general experience as a former fatty myself.

The person who was my actual best friend, my husband, just couldn't handle my demanding new personality, and I just couldn't handle him sitting on his unemployed ass doing nothing(not even exercising), while I was working out 6 days a week and working my ass off to make the ends meet(which they weren't). So, the things that I thought were maybe just bent turned out to actually be broken. And, when two married people who were once crazy over each other become nothing more than friends, and then become less than friends, it's time to let it go. And so i did. Three weeks ago, I moved out with my cat and my running shoes, and now I'm single-ish.

Now comes the fun part of arguing over finances(not that we have any assets), and signing papers. Fun.

I never thought losing weight so I could start having babies would lead to needing a new man to start having babies with!

Up to this point, I've lost 87#, run 4 half marathons, 1 full, and countless 5K's. I'm gonna start training for the Rock n Roll Las Vegas Marathon on December 5th, which is my 30th birthday. I figured there's no better way to celebrate a new life and turning 30 than in Vegas doing what I love to do!

I have the support of my family, what few friends I have left, and a wonderful new friend who listen when I need to cry, and tell me to suck it up when I need to. Life will go on, and so will I.

Training week 18

2009-11-29T14:20:00.000-08:00

I intitally set out to blog every week of training to keep a record of my training for myself and other people. I haven't really been able to to that, but I've managed to come by occassionally and write it down. This is one of those weeks when it's so important for me to write it down.

When I started back in July, I though there was no way I would be able to handle the workouts my coach planned out for me. They looked too tough, too long, and too intense. With only 6 weeks to go until my marathon, I'm finally realizing some things.

Today, I ran 19 miles. Not walked, but ran 19 miles. I weigh 231#, at least 60# more than the average marathon runner. When I tried to do this distance last week, I couldn't get past 15 miles. And I came home so frustrated that I almost gave up training. But I decided to give it just one more try. I amazed myself today. I realized that I'm an athlete today. Not just a fat girl running a marathon, but an athlete who is strong, and who has more endurance than the skinny little marathoners out there. Anyone in decent shape can run for 3 hours. Try running for 6 hours, which is how long it will take me to finish a full marathon. That's endurance.

I have a 10 year high school reunion coming up in 5 weeks. I'm so apprehensive about it. These people haven't seen or talked to me in a decade. But on Facebook, some of those people who never really cared what I did or made fun of me for what I did, are messaging me and telling me how amazed they are at what I'm doing now. The people who really used to know me, know that its' no surprise that I sing for a living, and even though they were initially surprised to hear about the marathon training, they know that one thing about me hasn't changed: if I want it, I'll have it no matter what it takes.

Last week, I was scared of this marathon. Today, I conquered that fear. I'm an athlete. I'm going to kick the ass of that marathon. I'm a 231# endurance running athlete.

Loss

2009-11-15T05:38:00.000-08:00

It dawned on me the other day that I hadn't written in my blog for a few weeks. Most days seem to just fly by for me, and I barely can hold on.

11 days ago, time stopped cold in my life. I got the phone call I've been dreading for 3 1/2 years, ever since my paps went into the nursing home. The last year has been a real stuggle for him, with constant infection and a case of broken spirit/serious home sickness.

11 days ago, during a voice lesson i was teaching, my mom told me to put myself on the first plane to Ohio, and do it now. Code: he's dying, come home now. My husband went to work finding me a ticket, and I kep teaching because I was so rattled I couldn't have driven safely anyway.

I left Orlando at 5:00am the next day(which means I got up at 3, after not sleeping a wink), and got home mid day. First stop, the hospital. My mom was a wreck, my paps wasn't coherent, and had lost 50 lbs since July. I've never sat vigil waiting for someone to die, but I wasn't looking forward to this. Besides that, I can't stand my aunts, and they were all coming, of course.

Fast forward one day, and my brothers from other parts of Ohio came in, my cousin from Columbus, and my other cousin from Southern KY were all there. They decided to move him to Hospice, which he arrived to around 8. By 10:05, he was gone. Peacefully, with his entire family around him, he let us go. I won't ever forget that moment. He was the biggest, strongest, and most amazing man I've ever or will ever know. He was the only grandfather I ever had, and I think I will miss him everyday for the rest of my life.

We buried him last Tuesday, and I came back last Wednesday, but I can't seem to resume my life. My brain isn't functioning well, and I'm eating everything I can get my hands on. There is a gaping hole in my life now, and I know that I can't fill it. He's not sitting in that wretched nursing home any more, but the next time I go home, I'll have to go to the cemetary to visit. Although, I must say, he's got the corner lot of the cemetary, on a hill, overlooking a soy bean field and the hills. It's a room with a view for eternity for sure. I had him for 28 years, and 16 of those I spent right next door on the farm living the life only a few kids get to live. My brothers and I spent time with him that none of the cousins ever got to, and I will cherish those memories my whole life.

Profound sense of loss sort of describes what I'm going through. My life won't ever be the same, and I don't know how to cope with that. But I'm doing the best I can.

Reflections of a year gone by.....

2009-09-27T18:18:00.000-07:00

This week not only marked my 9th training week for Disney, but it marked my 52nd week on Weight Watchers. To date, I've lost 56.2 pounds, have dropped from a size 26 to a 16, and have completed two 1/2 marathons. Words can't describe fully how much my life has changed, but I figured I'd try anyway.

Last September, I nearly had a mental breakdown over the situation between my father and his ex wife, the mother of my 3 young siblings. I was 290#, and ultimately miserable. My pictures from vacation last year showed a very plump version of me living with a family that is, for the most part, very health conscious. So, I decided to start WW. And I decided to buy a pair of running shoes, and start running.

Since the first day I wandered into the Track Shack, where all the employees are stick figure distance runners, and got fitted for new shoes, I've gone through 4 pairs of the same shoe, and gone from not being able to fit into anything on the racks, to being able to shop off the racks. My first sports bra was a 44ddd, and my new one is a 38dd. My first pair of "running" pants were cotton capris from the avenue, and my first "running" shirts were special ordered and therefore special priced for big women. Now, I don't have to order from the "Women's" sizes because I can wear the "misses' size. Yesterday, I tried on a pair of NikeFit capris in a size L?!?!

When I first started running, the crossing guards near my house would high 5 me everyday they saw me running, and all the kids would look at me funny. Fellow runners would look on me with encouragement, and then kind of shake their heads. Lets face it, a lot of people say they're gonna run to lose weight and get fit, but honestly, not that many people follow through. I fully intend to be one of the people who follow through all the way.

At first, the thought of running for 3 miles straight made me squeamish. But, I figured it out, and managed to start running 5k's pretty regularly. Then, I completely bypassed all the other distances like 10k, and 15k, and leapt straight to the 1/2 marathon. I'm the kind of person who goes big, or goes home. So, I decided to train for the Disney Princess 1/2 Marathon and managed to complete it. Then, I set my sights on the Flying pig 1/2 Marathon in Cincinnati in May, and managed to complete that one despit the really hard course.

I trained religiously through the summer, through my husband's illness and unemployment, and all the stress of losing my beloved Jeep back to the bank. God, if not for my running, I surely would have backslid into insanity and eating.

When I decided to undertake the full marathon distance, everyone around me thought that surely I had lost my mind. My brother agreed to coach me, and devised a 24 week training plan that can best be described as grueling. As I finished week 9 today, after running 11.45 miles, I realized how far I'd come. Never in a million years would I have imagined a year ago that I'd be able to run almost 12 miles without having a heart attack or being crippled.

A year ago, life was very different, and life will continue to change as long as I"m running through it. One thing is for sure, life will never be the same as it was ever again.

Injuring and injury

2009-09-13T07:09:00.000-07:00

I started running at 290#. And I managed to make it almost a year without an injury. I thought, "Gee, I must really be doing something right to be so fat and not get injured." It's amazing to me that with all the miles I run every week, and how I abuse my body, that an injury can occur in the oddest of circumstances.

Up until 16 days ago, I had been chugging away at my weekly workout schedule. Grueling long runs, cross training, and eating were my life. Then, enter the community service.....
I went to try to finish some hours, and got put to work reorganizing their walk in cooler. So, I bent over for 4 hours sorting through boxes of rotten fruit, tossing the bad, managing the good. I told myself all along the way that I was doing this for a good cause and that they needed my help, and that if someone didn't go through the rotten fruit, it would all go to waste. (I still don't think I'm ready to eat zucchini yet after knowing what one looks like when it's turned to liquid)

Then, enter the lower hamstring strain. All running stopped. All emotional eating started. Nearly two weeks later with no running, and I'm at my wits end with this injury. The problem is, now that I'm ready to start running again this week, I find that I'm only further injuring my quest by my destructive, self sabotaging behaviors. I will take me another month to work off what I've eaten on while down with this strain.

I've made it almost 1 year on WW, and for the longest time, I was religious. I don't know why I'm no longer religious. I take a great deal from the meetings, but not having a car has made it hard to get to them. I know that's part of this. And, I just haven't had time to plan and cook properly.

My life is only going to get more hectic, and somehow I have to manage all this. I'm just not sure how. My mom says to take like one day at a time. But, I find that if I do that, I end up with more injuries. Apparently, I've come to that place in my life where I have to sit down and schedule out every minute of my days in order to make it all work.

What's funny to me is that sooooo many people tell me that all the miles I'm running is insane. The irony is that my running keeps me sane, and I've realized now that not running leads me back to insanity. I don't really care what I have to do to save myself, but I'm jumping ship, and rowing back to the wagon.

Week 5

2009-09-02T07:21:00.000-07:00

It dawned on me today that I haven't written about my hardest week to date yet.

Sunday, I completed a near 1/2 marathon. This is the longest I've ever run, and I'm paying the price for it.

Last week was intense. I'm not gonna lie. Last week made me question my abilities as an overweight athlete to accomplish my marathon goal. My workouts are greuling, my weight is plateaud, and my aching body begs me to back down. My husband thinks I've lost my mind,m and my best friend just rolls her eyes at me in disbelief and sarcasm. My mom thinks I'm a trooper, and is immensly proud of me and my dad could care less. My coach just says "ice, ice, ice" and gives me a figurative pat on the back through text messaging.

Last week I ran for a total of 325 minutes, or 5:25:00. My total running mileage was 23.44, for a total mileage to date of 101.30 in 5 weeks! I biked over 40 miles last week. That doesn't seem so insane, except when I consider that I weigh 235#. My marathon buddies say, "Oh, just wait until you're running 40-50 miles a week.....then you'll really hurt!".

Here was last week's schedule.
Monday- 70 minutes bike, not including the bike ride to and from the gym.
Tuesday- 45 minute run, weights, and abs (and bike ride to and from the gym)
Wednesday- 70 minute run, abs (and ride to and from the gym)
Thursday- 70 minutes bike, abs, and 10 miles round trip to WI and home on the bike. 25 total.
Friday- 45 minute run, weights, and abs (ride to and from the gym)
Saturday- OFF. THANK YOU, GOD!
Sunday- 165 minute long run, which ended up being 11.75 miles. Considering that a 1/2 marathon is 13.1 miles, where is my medal???

The saving grace to Sunday's run was the trainer who came up to me on the treadmill and said," You sure do lead by example! I couldn't run 11 miles if my life depended on it. You're more dedicated than I could be." At that point, I had less than a mile to go, so I knew I cold make it.
Last week was tough. This week is gonna be tough. the long run isn't as long, but the other days are getting longer.

The muscle at the top of my calf under my leg bend is still bothering me. I ice it every chance I get. I take Motrin like it's going out of style. I have a 1/2 marathon in 3 1/2 weeks, and I'm terrified. I just hope I can survive the next 3 weeks.

Week 4

2009-08-23T17:38:00.000-07:00

Today marked the ending of wek 4 for my training plan.

Thus far, this was the hardest week. My training week starts on Mondays, but they really should go Sunday to Saturday, because it feels like my week starts with the long run instead of ends with it. Anyway, after last Sunday's 10.5 miles, this week seemed to never end.

I worked out more this week than ever. And, I get the feeling this is just a taste of what's to come. Monday was super hard. I wan't sore from Sunday's run, but I was just very tired. Getting through the 65 minute bike ride was rough, but I did it. Tuesday was a 45 minute run, abs, and weights. Wednesday was 65 minutes of run. Thursday was 65 minutes of bike. Friday was supposed to be 45 minutes, but do to an untested pair of running shorts and some very painful chaffing, I could only suffer through 40 minutes, abs, and weights.

Total minutes running=270 or 4.5 hours
Total miles this week=19.75
Total miles to date=77.86
Total aerobic minutes=400

4 weeks down, 20 to go.

EPIC

2009-08-22T20:18:00.000-07:00

When I think of the word "Epic", several things come to mind; The Eiffel Tower, The Grand Canyon, The Olympics. Those things are epic to me. And then there are the feats in my life I've decided to take on that fall into the category of epic.

When a professional singer decides to do a recital, it's an epic undertaking. It's a solo recital of 45-60 minutes of music that almost always follows a certain program order. And, it's always really hard music. In my case, I'm trying to get into graduate school, so this recital will be recorded and portions of it sent in to various universities where I'm applying in the hopes that they will invite me for a live audition. So, in essence, it has to be perfectly performed.

Naturally, while undertaking all the other epic adventures of this year, I decided to do a recital. After much scrutiny, research, and deliberation, my teacher and I have managed to pick all the songs for this program except for one. Today, it feels like an enormous weight has been lifted as we decided on an order, and finalized the music. There are 15 songs total, including 5 arias and 10 art songs(including 2 duets), in Italian, German, French and English.

There is an immense cost associated with a recital of this magnitude. It will probably cost me somewhere in the neighborhood of $1,000 by the time I pay for my accompanist(who is worth her weight in gold. Luckily she's skinny!), a venue, additional instrumentalists(violinist, harsichordist, oboist), a dress or two, and food for the reception afterwards. But, it's been 4 years since I've done a recital, and this is a major step towards my future as a singing teacher and performer. Plus, if it gets me into grad school, it's a total investment.

I have 12 weeks to learn 10 songs while running a business, continuing to lose weight, and training for a marathon. I think that qualifies as epic.

Week 3 DONE.

2009-08-18T06:54:00.000-07:00

Sunday I finished Week 3 of my 24 week marathon training program.

What's interesting about this program, is that my brother designed it just for me, knowing my current fitness level, weight, goals, etc.... So, the thought is that it would start off like many of the other novice programs I've scouted, with lots of base mileage and not too many really, really hard days. NOT SO. My brother is a perfectionist, and by nature of being a near elite amateur runner, a little bit psycho. And so, of course I asked him to coach me.

Week 3, day 1. 65 minutes of cross training wasn't so bad. My legs were a little tired from my long run the day before, but otherwise in good shape. My goals with XT are to build endurance by working at a heart rate that is still in my "high" intensity zone for maximum fat burn, but also below 150, so that it's aerobic efficient. So, i keep my HR between 140-150 for this extended period of time doing something besides running.
Week 3, day2. 40 minute run, weight, and abs. I love Tuesday. It's just a 3 miler and some other stuff. I've decided that watching trash TV keeps me entertained and focused.
Week 3, day 3. 65 minute run. This mid week mid distance run gets longer every week. It went without a hitch.
Week 3 day 4. 65 minutes of XT and abs.
Week 3, day 5. Another 40 minute run, weights, and abs. I especially love Fridays because I know the nex day is Saturday and I don't have to do anything!
Week 3, day 6. DOR. Went to the farmer's market with hubby and a friend. Went to teach, and then went to the pool to practice being a vegetable.
Week3, day 7. The LONG RUN day. I dreaded this day since I saw it on my schedule. A 150 minute workout. HOLY SHIT! That's 2 1/2 hours. Not only on a treadmill, but just in general, 2 1/2 hours. It takes me 3 to do a 1/2 marathon! I made the decision to run all those miles because I want to run a 1/2 marathon in September, and run every single mile. So, I gotta start somewhere.

I hit the treadmill with my Gu's in hand, and my trusty water bottle, headband, earphones, and iPod. I started at 4.2 MPH, which is super slow, but needed. My first set of 90 minutes yielded 6.25 miles. I took a break, went to address some chaffing issues, and came back to the Tm for another hour. This time, I sped up to 4.3 for 2 miles, and then 4.4 for the last 2.25 miles. Aside from just being tired, I wasn't hurting like I thought I'd be. My PF didn't bother me either, which is a miracle in itself. I realized that the key to my endurance success is to slow down and save my guts and glory for the end when I'm going to need it more.

Thinking back to the last 1/2 marathon I did in May, I could barely function for 2 days afterwards. I know I'm much fitter and in the best shape of my life because I ran 10.56 miles on Sunday, and then went to the pool, shopping, and then to dinner with friends! Sunday I proved something huge to myself. I can do this, and I'm going to. Ppl look at me weird when I say I'm training for a marathon because they assume someone my size can't do that. But, they have no idea what I can do.

3 down, 21 to go.

Training

2009-08-07T07:45:00.000-07:00

I've been running now for about 10 months. Well, what I consider running, anyway. I have muscles popping out in places I haven't muscles in years, and I'm starting to feel more solid. I did my last 1/2 marathon in May, and felt good and confident about it when the time came. And, over the summer, I've pushed myself to run more, more often, lift weights harder, work my abs everyday, and cross train a lot. And, I thought I was doing ok. I mean, for someone who is still over 230#, I feel like I'm pretty fit, so to speak.

Then, came the training program. I asked my brother several weeks ago to help coach me to my next goal, to run the Disney full marathon in January. He's done tons of marathons, and trained not only his wife to brilliant success, but trained my stepdad to finish his first(and last) full marathon at the age of 57. Plus, my brother is freakishly fast as a marathoner. He agreed, and set to work writing a program that would work for me.

Last week was week 1. I did everything I was supposed to do, including the 120 minute long run on Sunday, during which I ran 8.5 miles. I've never "Run" the whole thing. I've always done the run/walk interval thing. I've never run that many miles! And while I thought I was dying, I finished it. And, instead of collapsing for the rest of the day like I used to do after my long runs, I actually went out and did stuff. I made a trip to Old Navy and to the pool.

Of course, I had this great sense of fitness and achievement after week 1, only to look back at my training sheet and see there's still 23 weeks to go!

This is almost the end of week 2, and I've decided to post a weekly blog about my quest for the full marathon as a heavyweight. My brother doesn't know anyone who is my size and runs like I do. It's my goal to bring his world and the world of others who are ignorant to a fatty's plight out of ignorance and into some sort of light about how strong a fat girl can be.

This is the hardest thing I've ever done. I know I've lost my mind, but I don't care. I'm going to do this. I don't care about how much weight I lose in the process. I care about finishing what I've started. It's only going to get harder from here, but I'm up for the challenge.

I'll have just an XL Please!

2009-07-13T14:50:00.000-07:00

Saturday I went and weighed in, and found that I had gained 4.4#, and was totally demoralized over the whole damn thing. Then, I decided to go to the Track Shack and get my new running shoes, even though I knew I couldn't afford them.....While I was there, I decided to try on a pair of compressions shorts.

There is a back story here. About 6 weeks ago, I ordered a pair of Moving Comfort Woman compression shorts from The TS. Much to my dismay, I got all excited for nothing, becasue MC decided to discontinue the plus size line! The guy on the phone said, "Well, you can try on the regular ones". In my brain, I said, "LIKE HELL AM I GONNA FIT IN THOSE!". In the meantime, I kept running in my long shorts from Target that are now too big, and bunch and chafe in all the wrong plance. Fast forward to Saturday.

While waiting for my shoes, I thought I'd try on a pair of the regular Moving Comfort compression shorts. An XL is sooooo tiny! I literally said to my husband, "There's no way my ass is gonna fit in these things". Technically, the XL fits a 14/16, and so with my synical attitude, I managed to squeeze my assets into these tiny, little shorts! As I came out of the fitting room, one of my running friends saw me and gave the the biggest hug. "I'm so proud of you", she said, "most people say they're gonna do this, and never do. You're actually doing it. You don't need the big girl sizes anymore." And then I realized it: I'm a runner, an almost average size runner who can now walk into almost any running store and buy something on the racks. HOLY SHIT!
So, I left with my new shorts and my new shoes(I love the smell of new running shoes), determined to try them both out on my long run.

Yesterday, I poured myself into those shorts, laced up my new shoes, and admired how nice and firm my ass seemed to look. I started my run, and realized that the shorts don't move! As in, they're so tight, that they can't move! Awesome! No need to pull them back down when I stop to walk or try to pull the wedgie out in a not so obvious manner. After my run, I decided I would like some more shorts.

This morning, I called the TS, and said I'd like to order 2 more pair of these compression shorts. The guy said, "Well, what size do you need?" My response, "I'll just take an XL please." What he didn't know is how happy I was on the other end of the phone not having to explain what they look like and what size equivalent I'm looking for. It felt so good to just say I'll just take an XL, please.

Reality Bites

2009-07-11T14:01:00.000-07:00

The last 3 weeks of my life have been HELL! Between the husband getting FIRED, and having bills up to my ass, I've been drowning in reality. The reality of my life is hard. Harder than it's ever been. And I've tried to keep my chin up, and keep my spirits high. I've tried to workout religiously, and have succeded in some ways. But, my old food habits have come back to get me. The reality is, that as much as I want to say that I have learned to take my stresses out at the gym, being broke doesn't make it easy to make good food choices. Bread is cheap, pizza is cheap, ice cream is cheap. And the 4th of July WEEKEND(not just the day, but the whole damn 3 days), was a disaster.

Today, I realized that the stress of my life, my reality is sucking the life out of me. Everything I've spend the last 10 months working at, is in danger of being lost because I can't manage my stress eating. I haven't been sleeping, so I haven't had the energy to workout as hard as I normally do, so I haven't been burning as much as normal. But, I've been eating more, way more. Shaving my points, and being dishonest about my intake. The fruit of that is a 4.4# gain.

I'm so pissed at myself. But, in the 30 some odd weeks I've been doing WW, I've only gained 3 weeks. I needed this kick in the ass to help me get out of my funk. I'm so over the stress, and the food. This week, I'm kicking my own ass.

Too skinny for the fatties, too fat for the skinnies.

2009-06-14T18:55:00.000-07:00

So, as I lost my job at Lane Bryant back in april, I've been on the search for a new part time job. What I have discovered is a weird sort of discrimination. As far as working in plus sized fashion, I'm now considered too "small" for a job such as this?!?!? When I did work at LB, we almost never hired anyone smaller than a 20 because the women who came shopping gave us so much grief about how "small" the employees were and how they didn't want to see skinny girls working in a store for fatties. OK.

Now, because I don't want to go back to work and can't get a job because now I'm too small, I decided to try to get a job where the skinnies shop. I figure that, even though I'm an 18 now, I'm not gonna be for much longer. I've already dropped 4 sizes, and I'm not stopping. So, according to my logic, if I'm not fat anymore I should be able to work with the skinnies. NOT SO! As I'm asking for applications and even turning them in, the clerks at the counters are saying,"You know we only sell up to size 12", or "maybe you can work in the men's side"!

It's all very frustrating. I feel like I'm stuck in weight loss purgatory. Where I'm not a fatty anymore, but I'm not skinny enough yet to be considered not fat by the skinnies. WTF!
Let's hope they give me a job at Bath and body Works. They don't seem to care about size in there.

You're what?

2009-06-05T11:40:00.001-07:00

You're training for a marathon? What? How many miles is that? I'm so tired of people asking me if I'm sure I want to do this. It's mostly like people look at me like I'm retarded. Yes, I weigh 240, but I could probably run longer than you. It frustrates me that most people I encounter associate being overweight with being weak. That's just not the case. Even though I'm still pretty hefty, I'm built like a brick house, except for having a big belly. My legs are like tree trunks, and my arms are turning out to be pretty solid.

So, the decision to train for a full marathon, after only completing 2 halfs is the craziest decision I've ever made. Just past the decision to start running. But, it's a huge commitment, and I find myself having little support past my mom and my husband. Even my brother who is marathoner thinks I'm nuts. The thing is, I thought I would have been farther in my life than I am. I wanted to have kids by now and my master's degree. I have neither of those, and so this marathon is about having a major accomplishment to my name. Not that losing all this weight isn't an accomplishment, but I like the medals I guess.....

So this week I started what will be a 30 week program, of running my ass 4 days a week and generally living in a state of exhaustion. I love running and I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't. My mom and I are going to figure a food plan so that I'm getting enough carbs and protein in my diet. Which is where it gets hairy with the Weight Watchers thing, since they don't really cater much to athletes.

It's really hard for me to believe I'm doing this, and it's very emotional. I know I can do this, and I can't wait to do this. I'm sure the road is going to be long and hard, and I'm going to be in a lot of pain at some points, but when the time comes, the race will be worth the journey. I'm so excited.

2009-06-01T20:36:00.000-07:00

Have you ever looked at your life and realized that you live in excess? I've had some of those realizations here recently. I've lost almost 50 pounds, I've cleaned over 200 pieces of clothing out of my closet that I deem as too big(from when I was 290 pounds), and I'm broke. Therefore, I've come to the conclusion that I've lived my life thus far in some state of constant excess.

When I was growing up, everything was excessive. The house wasn't, but it was a great, big old country farm house decorated to the nines with shabby-chic stuff collected through the years by my mother. And my dad always drove a Caddy(so did my grandmother for that fact). Vacations were always outrageous. Being from Ohio, if you got to go to DisneyWorld once before you graduated high school, that was a coup. For me, every other summer was Disney and the beach. $10,000 vacations only to come home to the eletrcicity being turned off because nobody paid the bill. Cars being repoed, the whole nine yards.

The habits of excess, I've found come from childhood. That whole nature vs. nurture nonsense. And so, because I lived a life of excess and turmoil(as my dad was and is an alcoholic), this became my habit as I grew. I've been heavy since I can remember. Which is to say, I don't remember much before my parents got divorced when I was 7. I've seen pictures of myself before then, and I was average size. But, divorce is hard, and it took it's toll. The only way my dad knew how to comfort me was to feed me.So, as I grew in all directions, age and otherwise,

I've come to this point in my life. I took all the personal finance classes in college, only to ignore everything I learned, and have horrible money habits, becasue I like excess. I had a job at a clothing store, and spent hundreds and hundreds of dollars over the course of the 2 years I worked there. And, after starting this journey, have realized that I have thousands of dollars worth of clothes(all from Lane Bryant) sitting around that are too big. It's really obscene how much clothing I have. Literally, hundreds of pieces of my prized wardrobe that are now hanging on two full clothing racks.

The problem with excess is that it's totally habitual, and it has infected all the parts of my life. Just like I'm learning to manage my eating habits, so I'm trying to learn how to manage my other habits as well. I'm giving up things like my tanning membership in exchange for my gym membership. And instead of eating out 2-3 times a week, we're cooking new recipes at home to keep our costs low. Excess has been a big part of my life my entire life, and for the first time in that life, I'm in control of my affairs. Losing the weight is just the beginneing of moderation, but I'm sincerely hoping that this new habit infects all the aspects of my life.

Short Shorts

2009-05-25T08:16:00.000-07:00

I went to college in 2000, and, just before I left, my mom and I went shopping at Old Navy. That was the first time I'd ever gone shopping there, and it was the last. I remember buying some tank tops and the cutest pair of khaki short shorts. That fall, I was in marching band, and did a lot of walking around campus, and managed to slim down quite nicely. I even had some guys hanging around, and that had never really happened to me.

Fast forward a few years, and those little short shorts were something I'd never imagine putting on again. No, I didn't keep them, but, I did work for Lane Bryant. And I kept trying on shorts, and just hated the look of my legs. They were dimply and just not cute. So, I've lived that last several years in capris and crops because I was so ashamed of my legs.

About three weeks ago, we were getting ready to fly to Ohio so I could run the Flying Pig. So, I went to the Avenue to see if they had anything cute. Much to my surprise, I found some really cute shorts. I love plaid shorts, in all colors, so I tried some on! Not only did I try on a size 18!, but I bought 3 pair of short, short plaid shorts!! For the first time in almost 10 years, I'm not ashamed of how I look. It was a moment of pure joy when I could button and buy 18's, and the fact that my legs actually looked "good" in these tiny shorts.

Now they hang in my closet, and I can't believe they're mine. All my clothes look so "tiny" in comparison to my 22/24's. I'm still in disbelief that I'm back into size 18, and the thought of getting smaller is so exciting and mind boggling. I used to say when I was larger, that if I could only get to an 18, I'd be happy. But, now that I'm an 18, I just can't imagine stopping. So, I'm not. I've planned a trip to Ohio in Late July, and I plan on being a 16 by then. With that said, it's time to go to the gym.

The Flying Pig "Race Report"

2009-05-03T20:09:00.000-07:00

So, today I completed my second 1/2 Mary, The Flying Pig in Cincinnati. I thought it would be a great idea to do a race so close to my hometown so I could see my family and do a really cool race.....should have done more research on the race.

We got to cincy yesterday afternoon and headed to the expo after checking into our hotel. The expo was nice, small but nice. Lots of expensive stuff to buy, but resisted the urge.

Went to bed early, around 10, and got up at 3:30. Necessary, but wayyyy too early. Hubby got up shortly after, and got ready with me. I put my hair up in pig tails, since it was the Flying Pig.
We left for the race at 5:00, and got dropped off to find the start line. It was lightly raining, which meant that the potental for being miserable was very high. My issues with port-a-potties led me to stand in line for 25 minutes for a real bathroom, before making my way outside to stand in the rain with everyone else in the corrals.

It took me 10:00 to cross the start line and my first mile was not fast at all like I had expected. Weaving in and out of ppl, especially walkers, is hard work and dangerous, so the slower the better. There were 3 big bridges over the first 3 miles, and each with a pretty serious incline to bridge level, which sucked. The bridge joints were extremely slippery, so I had to pay close attention to those.

The race course was lovely, even though it was rainy. Running over the Ohio river and through the old part of Covington and cincinnati was great. I got to parts of the cities I never thought I would, and some I would never want to see.

The first 6 miles were fine, and I was picking up speed. Then came the hill....not just a hill, a mountain that climbed 900 ft. and spanned almost 4 miles of climbing. UGH!! I abondones my strict intervals, and walked a lot of the way up, which I'm sure is what destroyed my knees. Had I run it, I probably wouldn't have shredded my knees as badly as I did. Shortening my stride helped in one way, but led to the knee problems.

My pacing was doing well, under 15:00 average coming up to the top of the hill. There was a great botanical garden at the top of the hill with a butterfly conservatory, and oh, how I wish I could have stopped. The "downhill" was not so hownhill afterall. I had been texting my husband throughout so he'd know where I was. I have never been so happy to see a mile marker as I was to see Mile 11. It was midway down the hill, and turned out to be a really fast mile, even though I was in agonizing knee pain. Mile 12 was my fatest mile! And then the "Finish Swine" was in sight.

I lengthened my stride and pushed through the pain of my knees screaming at me, and decided to run across the line. My mom and hubby were along side the course cheering me on with about 30,000 other spectators. It was so exciting coming in to all those ppl cheering!

Coming across the line, I started crying a bit because this was such a hard race and I was hurting so much. Once I crossed, I got my timing chip cut off, and got my medal. It's pretty cool, with the flying pig on the front and the back of the piggy on the back. My left calf locked up on me completely, which felt like a charlie horse standing up, oh, so painful.....

I did some stretching, but hurt so bad I had to sit down for a minute. I called my husband and figured out where to meet and then made my way to the food tables. Fresh cut oranges, water, Swiss cake rolls, yogurt, bagels, chips.....so much food. Had quite a ways to walk to the car, which sucked bc I was already in pain, but it gave my legs a nice little cool down.

My finishing time was 3:12:46, with a 14:43 pace time. It was slower than I wanted to go, but 11:00 minutes faster than my time from Disney. I'll take a PR any day of the week, slow or not. This was a really hard course, that I thought I was prepared for, but not enough. Next year, I'll know better.

My legs are hurting tonight, and my feet are sore, but overall it was a great race experience and I PR'd on a much harder course.

Friends

2009-04-11T08:21:00.000-07:00

So I have come to realize over the past 3-4 months that the people I have surrounded myself with are sort of miserable people. All of my friends are overweight, and most of them except for one, are miserable. They always have something negative to say about everything.

Why did I hang out with them? Mostly because I was 300 pounds, and didn't have the confidence to go anywhere by myself, and try to meet new people. I was just perfectly content with these unhappy people. Problem is, I'm not unhappy anymore! And so being around these people isn't fun anymore. Other thing is, they start to resent someone like me who is taking the initiative to change and do it drastically. Nothing about my life is the same as it was, and the people who were in that other life are not adjusting well to the changes.

My "best" friend, whom I haven't spoken to in over a month, is one of those people. She thinks that my running and racing is stupid and that I am wasting my time and money. Has she taken the initiative to get healthier? NO. And so, my changes in lifestyle are not meshing with hers and the way things used to be. Her way of getting back at me for making the changes that she can't/won't make for herself is to ridicule and poke fun at my new passion. And by ignoring my big days, like my first 1/2 marathon at Disney last month. She just didn't bother showing up. So the only people cheering me on were my husband(who thinks I'm mildly deranged) and my roommate.

My husband is bucking the system some because in the 10 years we've been together, things have pretty much always been the same. And so now, everything is changing. He understands it's for the better, but still complains about eating "light" ice cream, instead of the fully loaded kind. And he hates it when I point out that his portions are way too big. But, he's losing weight a little at a time, and embracing our new active lifestyle. He just got a car after riding the bus for 2 years, and will have a little more spare time to go to the gym with me, or run. And I think he's looking forward to that. He is my biggest fan, even though sometime he thinks I'm nuts.

And so, I realize the day before Easter, that I have no friends to invite over for Easter dinner, because I'm not cooking. And when the cook that everyone depends on for 300 calories/serving candied yams isn't cooking candied yams, nobody seems that interested in me.

It's time to make some new friends, who are positive and active and are interested in the same things as me. I'm thinking about joining a bowling league this summer, and starting my own knitting group.

That's all for now.

The Journey

2009-04-08T09:01:00.000-07:00

What drives a person to make drastic, life altering decisions? Fear? Hopelessness? For me, it was a spark of insanity. I felt like I was literally going insane. My family back home was having problems, none of which I could control. And I was unhappy with my life. I was the most unhealthy I've every been, and miserable.

What's funny is that my family is filled with healthy people.....my mom is a dietician/nutritionist for Pete's sake. My stepdad, brother, sister in law, sister, and her financee are all marathon runners, and my mom runs, too! My other brother is an athletic director and so his life revolves around sports. So how, in the midst of all of these healthy people did I get to 289 pounds? Complancency is the answer to this.

Fast forward to last June. The family vacation we all take every 2 years to a big beach house in Myrtle Beach. Skinny family included, and then the fat little sister( that's me). My mom's side of the family doesn't really say much to me about my weight, so I felt mostly comfortable just being my fat self. Then she sent me the pictures. HOLY CRAP! Was that really me? I was as big as my mom and my brother put together. What a sad realization.

Fast forward again to September, 2008. After a meltdown over family stuff beyond my control, as always, I realized I was in danger of actually having an honest to goodness nervous breakdown. And I can't really explain it, but I decided that trying to take care of everyone else in my family had led to me ignoring the need to take care of myself in any way. I was a wreck emotionally, and physically. I had just become ok with not being ok. I hated what I saw when I looked in the mirror, and I felt like crying all the time.

So, I decided I wanted to run. Yes, run. At 290 pounds. I went to the specialty running store in Orlando, The Track Shack, where I mistakenly thought only running snobs hung out. And I got fitted for my first pair of running shoes. Of course, my feet are super wide, and long, so I ended up in a 10W, which is the largest women's running shoe they carry. .....Awesome. Naturally, there was no clothing there for me or anywhere else for that matter. I was condemned to cotton capris and cotton tanks from Lane Bryant.

I also joined Weight Watchers around the same time. I had just made 2 of the best, life changing decisions ever.

The running was hard in the beginning. My knees hurt, my feet hurt, everythng chafed because of the cotton. On the days when I didn't run, I rode my vintage Schwinn beach cruiser as far as I could before feeling like death was knocking. People stared at me with disgust. People just stared. It didn't help that I was too poor to afford the gym, and so I used my wonderful neighborhood sidewalks where the teenagers from the high school across the street drove by me lumbering down the road every morning. And after a couple of months, and a few pounds lost, my knees stopped hurting, and if people stared, I didn't care.

My first "race" was October 19,2008 at the UCF U Can Finish 2 Miler. I ran the whole thing, and finished in 34:29. For me, it was the first of many great accomplishments to follow. Just running across the line at my size was empowering. Other small races followed, The Turkey Trot, The Reindeer Run, The Lady Track Shack, Round Around the Universe.

In January, I up to running 15 miles a week, and decided to so something drastic. I decided to train for a 1/2 marathon. 13.1 miles of agony and pain all for the sake of personal acheivement. My first day with the "Marathon Fest" training group was a 5:00am track workout. I, the fat girl who weighed at least 150 more than anyone else on the track, showed up to run with the speed freaks. Not surprising, there was no pace group for someone as slow as me. So, I ran on my own. After a few weeks, of training with them and meeting some really nice folks, another insane idea popped into my brain. Disney was hosting it's Inaugural Princess 1/2 Marathon in March. I had 5 weeks to get in some long training runs before the race, so why not?

I started trying gels, and buying smaller clothes. Actual "running" clothes, with the wicking fabric. I found that I could actually buy bras at my favorite running store, instead of having to order them from a special place online. I was training for a 1/2 marathon! All my friends thought me crazy, and my husband, too.

Soon enough, March 9th rolled around, and all my hard work was about to pay off. I didn't run the whole thing, I did :30 run/1:00 walk intervals. I posted the fastest times I've ever posted. The first 10 miles were all 15;00 or less! I was passing tons of people, and finished in 3:24:27. My feet problems dampened my joy, because I hurt so bad I could hardly move when it was finished, but I finished. That's all that matters.

Now I find myself training relentlessly for another 1/2 marathon. I also have come to realize that I have a wealth of knowledge to share with people because of my unique position as a heavyweight runner. I still weight in at 250 pounds, but I'm strong and fast(for me), and I'm healthier than I've been in a really, really long time. I'm teetering between 18 and 20, and it's been 8 years since I've been this "small". When I go home in May to run The Flying Pig in Cincinnati, I can't wait to see the looks on my family's faces.

I've only just begun, and I have so far to go. But, if I keep running and believing in myself, I'll be running at Boston with my brother and sister in law before they know it!