A couple of days ago I passed the half-way point on the way to my reunion date. Four weeks has past since I started my challenge workout, roughly another four to go. My reunion is about a month away. Hard to believe. That date is fast approaching.
One of my classmates from high school, J.,sent me a note. In the note, she mentioned in passing how much she's enjoyed hearing about my pre-reunion adventure. I suddenly felt guilty that I really have not given much of status update out there...and so I have been thinking what I should say about that. My progress. Not the guilt. I have bigger issues than regular blogging to be guilty about.
So the progress...
I have been bouncing some things off of my husband. You know, trying to get his feedback on my progress. The dear fellow has actually become wise to the fact that when I ask him questions about certain things, I don't really expect a response.
Example...Me: Did you think I would have been skinnier by now? Him: I don't know. Did you think you'd be skinnier by now?
My mother. She gives it to me straight. She was the one that said, when Samantha was a perpetually smiling infant, "Oh she smiles so much, it makes me think she's simple." Simple. Not negative. But not leaning toward the opinion that it's positive. I still bring that up with her to this day.
Anyway, she says earlier in the week, "Well, you really seemed to get in shape faster and lose so much weight when you were just running around the neighborhood at the beginning of the summer." Fantastic. So busting my butt in the sweltering city is yielding less results than the casual jaunt around the 'hood. Hey. She's honest.
And my battle with the scale. I really have been avoiding the conflict. I haven't gotten on there to check any changes. I wanted to wait to maximize the results. Yeah. Too bad I've actually gained 3 pounds.
I guess I don't really feel like much progress is being made for the amount of effort I've been putting in. Maybe that's why I haven't really been compelled to write much about it.
I did my first 5k today with my friend and her sister. I am a people watcher. And this 5k crowd provided me ample fodder for my observational folly. I was looking the other runners over. Some of them were in phenomenal shape. Crazy folk who were running full-out sprints around the area while we leisurely checked in and sipped our water. I just envisioned them as these speedy, slick little sports cars that were going to blaze this race course in no time. I, personally, felt like a work truck. A solid, steady work truck. I was not going to set any records. But I would finish the race. And - it was going to be my personal best. Afterall, it was my first 5k.
So. Here I am pre-race lamenting to my friend and her sister that I am not making progress in my quest to become like one of the slick, sportsters jetting around the grounds of the race site. I have not lost weight. I am still exhausted and sore after every workout. I don't feel like I have mastered any of the technical movements that I'm learning. Then, my friend, J. pipes up."Hey. At the start of all this you said that you couldn't even go up a flight of stairs without feeling winded." True that. "Do you feel like that now?" Hey. She is right. I can do a flight of stairs without losing my breath. I am getting stronger. And I was just getting ready to do my first 5k. Not too bad. Progress.
Then we were off to do our 5k. A beautiful day. A beautiful course. I ran (or something similar to a run) the whole thing. At some points, I felt like walking. But I kept on working. Kept running. And I finished strong, just beating someone out in front of me at the final stretch (did I mention I am a wee bit competitive?)
I just checked my time. I did it in 33:27.1 minutes. My first 5k.
Not bad for a work truck.
Progress.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
The "Me Time" Myth
Me Time. Sounds Simple. It's time that I spend with...well no one. Except me. Or with people that happen to be sharing in the same activity that I happen to be doing. Time spent doing something for myself.
"Me time."
Relaxation. Pampering. Accomplishment. Or just nothing. Doing nothing counts, too. A teeny bit selfish.
But then I have to catch up with the things that I don't do when I am enjoying me-time. Hmm. So really when I make the choice to do something for me, I am conscientiously choosing to NOT do something I should be doing for someone else...or with someone else. So the myth is just that. Generally I dabble in very little me-time for that very reason.
This gym thing I'm doing. It has to be me-time. It is like mandatory me-time. It has to be. The three musketeers, my kids (and the name of a luscious candy bar) would be unwelcome at the establishment where I am working out. The kids AND the candy bar. Not allowed. Well...no one has said NO KIDS, but it is really no place for them to hang. It's an industrial gym space. And if you saw the way most of these fit 'n trim people looked, you would know it is really no place for a candy bar either.
Scheduled me-time. I have never been very good at that. I have had my mid-wife, hair stylist and childless friends all tell me that I should schedule time for myself - as if for an appointment. But I always seem racked with guilt if I feel like something I'm doing takes away from someone else. Or...OR-I find myself preempting the me-time session doing things like making dinner for everyone ahead of time...even when I'm not going to be eating it. Crazy. And it's not my husband's fault. He is all for the go-out-and-take-a-break adventure with one of my friends or solo. But I seem to sense a barely palpable feeling that maybe he wishes I wouldn't go.
Is it me? No. I think not. I saw a neighborhood mom tonight at Stop and Shop doing her weekly grocery shopping at 9pm. "I just put my kids to bed and now I thought it would be a good time to shop." That could have been me-time if she left the putting-of-the-kids-to-bed to someone else and gone shopping by herself.
So my goal after this challenge is through in a few weeks is to give myself the green light to give myself that me time without the guilt. Because I do feel better for giving myself time to focus on feeling better and getting stronger. I deserve it.
We all do.
"Me time."
Relaxation. Pampering. Accomplishment. Or just nothing. Doing nothing counts, too. A teeny bit selfish.
But then I have to catch up with the things that I don't do when I am enjoying me-time. Hmm. So really when I make the choice to do something for me, I am conscientiously choosing to NOT do something I should be doing for someone else...or with someone else. So the myth is just that. Generally I dabble in very little me-time for that very reason.
This gym thing I'm doing. It has to be me-time. It is like mandatory me-time. It has to be. The three musketeers, my kids (and the name of a luscious candy bar) would be unwelcome at the establishment where I am working out. The kids AND the candy bar. Not allowed. Well...no one has said NO KIDS, but it is really no place for them to hang. It's an industrial gym space. And if you saw the way most of these fit 'n trim people looked, you would know it is really no place for a candy bar either.
Scheduled me-time. I have never been very good at that. I have had my mid-wife, hair stylist and childless friends all tell me that I should schedule time for myself - as if for an appointment. But I always seem racked with guilt if I feel like something I'm doing takes away from someone else. Or...OR-I find myself preempting the me-time session doing things like making dinner for everyone ahead of time...even when I'm not going to be eating it. Crazy. And it's not my husband's fault. He is all for the go-out-and-take-a-break adventure with one of my friends or solo. But I seem to sense a barely palpable feeling that maybe he wishes I wouldn't go.
Is it me? No. I think not. I saw a neighborhood mom tonight at Stop and Shop doing her weekly grocery shopping at 9pm. "I just put my kids to bed and now I thought it would be a good time to shop." That could have been me-time if she left the putting-of-the-kids-to-bed to someone else and gone shopping by herself.
So my goal after this challenge is through in a few weeks is to give myself the green light to give myself that me time without the guilt. Because I do feel better for giving myself time to focus on feeling better and getting stronger. I deserve it.
We all do.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
The Mind is Weak but the Flesh is Willing
It's blazing hot here right now. And I mean like, Africa-hotness. And the humidity. Wave a spoon outside and it would probably fill up with water. Perfect day for a workout up in the inner city. If you're a little nutty...and wanting to get away from your three rambunctious children. Put a check mark next to both of those boxes for me today.
I hop in my car and think to myself...sweet freedom. I am out of the house - no kids in tow. And then I realize what I've done. I am driving into the city in 90 degree heat to subject myself to an unforgiving physical grind. I am actually perspiring sitting in my car driving. Sitting still in my seat. Not really moving a muscle. Hmmm. I could divert and go get a pedicure. Toes really need a touch up. Nah. I'm going.
As I get nearer and nearer to the gym, it's getting hotter. Like I am driving toward the surface of the Sun.
I arrive for my 5:30 class met by Coach G. He's a riot...and a good motivator. He's just wrapping up the 4:30 class. Coaching them through the last moments of today's paces. Everyone is moving in s - l - o - w motion. I had already checked out the Workout of the Day before coming. Brutal. But I was not expecting it to be quite like this. Hmm. Good thing I have my nut-job disposition on my side and I didn't really get that nervous.
Class starts. The warm-up is actually a good going-over in its own right. Quarter-mile run. Some weight lifting. Jump rope. (Not the fun, double-dutch variety) THEN - the real stuff. As many rounds as possible or AMRAP in 15 minutes. Three things in each round. As fast as you can. 5 pull-ups, 10 burpees (deadly push-up, jumping jack combo) and 15 squats.
Did I mention the surface of the sun? Did I mention that this is an open-air gym sans air conditioning? I love the basic nature of this gym. No mirrors. No fancy pants locker room. No A.C. Just the equipment. And some large spinning fans. Blowing hot air. Today I wished for a schmidge of the fancy AC.
I was going and going. And then - I got to the point where I really was just spent. 11 minutes into the workout. I was lying on my stomach, chest to the ground, drenched and really just trying to catch a breath. I was so freakin' hot. And tired. And it was hot. Too hot to be doing this workout. I thought, I cannot do this anymore.
Just then - Coach G. called my name. Oh - the shame. He knows my name. "Steph - get UP! Keep it moving. Your mind is telling you right now that you can't do this, but I am telling you. You are STRONG. Dig deep. Your body is built to do this. Trust your body." And he was right. My mind was telling me that I could not do this thing. This test of my physical strength.
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and told my body to move. And then it did. And it kept moving. Until the final second ticked off the 15 minute timer.
I did it.
I am not claiming to be some superstar. Or an uber-athlete. Far from that. But I am strong-minded. And I am finding that this whole challenge is strengthening my mind...and my body.
I can come up with logical excuses why something can't happen...too little time, too many commitments, the weather is not ideal, I am too tired. Really. Pick one. They are all solid, valid excuses.
The coach of last night's class had a shirt on that I really liked. It said,
"You can make great excuses or get great results. But you can't have both."
So true.
Tonight. Results won. And I guess, so did I.
I hop in my car and think to myself...sweet freedom. I am out of the house - no kids in tow. And then I realize what I've done. I am driving into the city in 90 degree heat to subject myself to an unforgiving physical grind. I am actually perspiring sitting in my car driving. Sitting still in my seat. Not really moving a muscle. Hmmm. I could divert and go get a pedicure. Toes really need a touch up. Nah. I'm going.
As I get nearer and nearer to the gym, it's getting hotter. Like I am driving toward the surface of the Sun.
I arrive for my 5:30 class met by Coach G. He's a riot...and a good motivator. He's just wrapping up the 4:30 class. Coaching them through the last moments of today's paces. Everyone is moving in s - l - o - w motion. I had already checked out the Workout of the Day before coming. Brutal. But I was not expecting it to be quite like this. Hmm. Good thing I have my nut-job disposition on my side and I didn't really get that nervous.
Class starts. The warm-up is actually a good going-over in its own right. Quarter-mile run. Some weight lifting. Jump rope. (Not the fun, double-dutch variety) THEN - the real stuff. As many rounds as possible or AMRAP in 15 minutes. Three things in each round. As fast as you can. 5 pull-ups, 10 burpees (deadly push-up, jumping jack combo) and 15 squats.
Did I mention the surface of the sun? Did I mention that this is an open-air gym sans air conditioning? I love the basic nature of this gym. No mirrors. No fancy pants locker room. No A.C. Just the equipment. And some large spinning fans. Blowing hot air. Today I wished for a schmidge of the fancy AC.
I was going and going. And then - I got to the point where I really was just spent. 11 minutes into the workout. I was lying on my stomach, chest to the ground, drenched and really just trying to catch a breath. I was so freakin' hot. And tired. And it was hot. Too hot to be doing this workout. I thought, I cannot do this anymore.
Just then - Coach G. called my name. Oh - the shame. He knows my name. "Steph - get UP! Keep it moving. Your mind is telling you right now that you can't do this, but I am telling you. You are STRONG. Dig deep. Your body is built to do this. Trust your body." And he was right. My mind was telling me that I could not do this thing. This test of my physical strength.
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and told my body to move. And then it did. And it kept moving. Until the final second ticked off the 15 minute timer.
I did it.
I am not claiming to be some superstar. Or an uber-athlete. Far from that. But I am strong-minded. And I am finding that this whole challenge is strengthening my mind...and my body.
I can come up with logical excuses why something can't happen...too little time, too many commitments, the weather is not ideal, I am too tired. Really. Pick one. They are all solid, valid excuses.
The coach of last night's class had a shirt on that I really liked. It said,
"You can make great excuses or get great results. But you can't have both."
So true.
Tonight. Results won. And I guess, so did I.
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