The Progress Report

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.

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.

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.

On the rebound...

So - just putting it out there because I know all of you will keep me honest.  Hitting the bricks tomorrow and heading to CrossFit for my first workout since last week...

Update with how that goes tomorrow!

Running on Empty

In my last post, I mentioned that I was going to focus on rest and recovery.  That was over a week ago and I really didn't think I'd be gone from blog-world quite that long.  But I have been
E-X-H-A-U-S-T-E-D.  To the point, where I did not feel I am the energy to do anything on the periphery.  Unfortunately, this blog fell into that very zone.

So.   The triathlon.  Survived the sharks.  With the help of my son's bad a#$ shirt and vicious snarl. He revealed the shirt just before I entered the water. And really - what shark would want to get near this?  They (because I was thinking of a big school of sharks) were probably thinking. "Whoa, already a  nasty great white patrolling this beach.  We're out."

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.....

The funny thing is, I did not know Luke had this shirt on until I was almost ready to get into the water for the swim.  Here's the proof...when we first arrived.  Luke looking p.o. 'ed because the Bruegger bagel life-size puppet scared him.  He WAS scary looking.

I don't want to see the bagel man...

 Swam my slowest time evah.  Quite a disappointment.  But with my lack of preparation, not surprising.  And contrary to what others had told me, my CrossFit workouts did NOT prepare me for the half-mile open water swim.  After I was done, I was beyond tired - but relieved.  It was over.

Note the look of relief on my face.  I think Luke was making sure the bagel did not get near us...he was snarky.

Onto the next challenge.  Samantha's 1st Birthday Party the following day.  Because in rating the weekend's chaos factor, it was pretty high.  At least I had the good sense to schedule the party later in the day.  In any case, the party was a hit.  Samantha had a super time...and I think her party guests did,too. 

But after that party was over and the next morning rolled around, I was literally tired to the core.  You know that feeling?  When you wake up feeling like you never slept...and there wasn't any alcohol to blame.  That's what I was feeling.  Totally spent.  But - my duties called.  Kids dressed and fed, trucked over to their grandmother's, me into work for a blessed Monday late-night schedule 'til 9pm.  Home, wind down, to bed at 11ish.

Next day, pretty much the same. No late night...thankfully that's a once weekly occurrence.  But - up to CrossFit for a class that night.  Gotta get back in the saddle. Go hard or go home as they say.   Left the class completely beat.  No surprise. 

Next morning.  Wake up. I feel as though I cannot even get out of bed.  And this is my day off from work. Something is wrong.  I am definitely not feeling well.  Almost a little flu-like.  But - I soldier on.  I gots kids to care for!

Next day.  I call the doctor.  Go in to my appointment with her.. Me: Dr. - I'm feeling these XYZ symptoms.  Yup, she says.  Sounds like ABC illness. You need antibiotics.  And take it easy.  Sounds like you need to slow down.  Sounds like you are running on empty.  Hmmm. I think she's right.  Of course.  She's a DOCTOR.

Ahhhh.  The almighty doctor's permission to slow it down.  But clearly. I could have given myself that permission...say...on Tuesday?  After the weekend swim adventure, birthday celebration for 30 guests and late - night at work.  Nope.  COULD NOT DO IT.

I grabbed myself a sweet tea from McD's on the way home from the doctor's office.  It's a vice that I am trying to steer clear since I am pretty sure it is just caramel colored water with some sugar heavily infused into it. Zero nutritional value. But so freakin' tasty. AND - they always put too much ice in there so you get through the whole 32 oz. in about eight good gulps of the straw.  Then I am left shaking the big Styrofoam container (another reason, I refrain.  Styrofoam...the anti-environmental container). 

Shaking the Styrofoam.  Hoping that some last little bit will trickle down to the bottom so I can suck up just one more little sip.  But it's empty.  But I keep shaking it. Sipping air through the straw. I have seen others do the same with their cups of soda.  Why?  Because we all rally against running on empty.  Because sometimes with the right shake of the cup...the right rattle of the ice in the container...we are rewarded with just a little bit of liquid goodness to make us believe there is more left...that we are not empty.

I am here to tell you...empty is empty. And that last little bit of stuff you can summon up from the bottom of the "empty" container.   It's the sign that you, too, are a believer that you can get more out of empty.  But I'm hear to tell you that sometimes it's okay just to admit that it's empty and take a break...

OR - Keep rattlin' the cup and keep believin'.  I get it.

For those of you waiting for some reference to Jackson Browne's song by the same name, sorry to disappoint.  But - I do clearly remember my sister bringing home the album, putting the record on the turntable and checking out the cover art.  For those of you to young to remember or know what I'm talking about...here it is.  When albums were art...good times.

Rest and Recovery

So there are three parts to this whole shape-up challenge.  Work out four times a week. Follow a basic, sensible eating plan.  Rest and recovery.

It is now time for the rest and recovery to take place.  But not really. I am going to take the next 48 hours to focus on getting my body not to ache so that I can swim a 1/2 mile in a relay triathlon on Saturday. You read that right...a half mile swim.  With the possibily of my sharky friends taking part (very remote chance, but still a chance). 

In order to understand why I need rest and recovery, I will paste the link for CrossFit.  I love it.  I really do.  But it beats me up. EVERY SINGLE TIME.  And I still love it. 

You will understand.  Watch the video. 

See you Saturday.  After I conquer my swim with the sharks!

Think me some small fish thoughts...

http://crossfitprovidence.com/start-here/watch-the-video/

The Couple That Plays Together Stays Together

I am not a fan of tired, trite sayings that could have been pulled from the cover of some insanely obvious guide to self-help. No sir.  "You Are What You Eat"..."Actions Speak Louder Than Words"..."The Couple That Plays Together Stays Together."

Quite frankly they lack creativity AND they are not true. Case in point to the above - I am not a creamy hunk of chevre,  actions cannot, by their very nature, speak and I know a lot of couples who played around plenty, but have since parted ways.

Or in reference to the last saying, and the title of this post, there are couples who don't really have time to play and DO stay together. 

Like my husband and I.  We met about eight years ago, married very soon after that and now have three children ages 6 1/2 years old, 3 years old and almost a year.  Throw in two jobs, two dogs, three cats and an aviary hobby into the mix and there isn't a whole lot of play time to be had. 

Sure.  When we first met we hiked mountains, birdwatched, traveled, went to the theatre, cooked together, browsed in quaint little shops and generally enjoyed our down time together. But judging by the simple math equation above, our courtship was rather, shall we say, abbreviated.  Cut short by the demands that come along with having parental responsibilities and...stuff.

But I started to think.  Play we have.  Just in different ways.  We now take our three kids hiking...to our public state parks, not techincal mountain trails.  We travel with our three kids...to Santa's Village theme park, not snorkeling in the Keys.  We go shopping together with our kids...to BJ's instead of those cute little stores.

And now this shape-up challenge.  We are doing it together. And it's different.  No kids.  Just us. OK.  I don't know if these body-breaking workouts can be considered play, but it is something that we are doing just for us.  Maybe even a little selfish.  But it feels good. 

Almost a little like play.