Yearn to Learn

I'm teacher AND student - so I get the apple.

I am always learning, and my favorite things to learn are things about - you guessed it - myself.  Here is what I'm learning this week:

1. Insanity has kicked my cardio capabilities into another hemisphere.  I began training for my half-marathon/5k/10k combo scheduled for October, and - miracle of miracles - I no longer need those pesky walking intervals.  I can just run.  Now, I may add in the the walks when I increase my time and mileage simply for fear of injury - but they'll be few and far between (and weeded out as soon as possible), but for right now, my sports bra is near bustin' with pride.  (It has very little else to bust with these days.)

2.  My heart rate may get all kinds o' jacked up while pushing through Insanity or a speedy run interval, but it drops right back down the way a healthy person's would.  I no longer need long cooldowns to return my heart rate to its resting rate; it gets there lickity split all on its own.  Stop yammering!  I still cool down and stretch because I like it and it's good for my pretty muscles.  I'm just sayin' that before, I would still be huffin' and puffin' like the Big Bad Wolf after some bacon.  Now, I'm just as serene as the brick-layin' pig.  (But much leaner.)

Mine is working just dandy, thanks.

3.  I can make my goals happen all on my own, even if they aren't fitness-related.  I wanted to be an author; yesterday I made it so.  Thank you to createspace.com and their helpful step-by-step into the world of self-publishing.  Now, you can take me to bed with you!  I will post links to buy the physical copy of SweatItOut: My Journey From CouchSpud to FitGal as soon as everything is a go.  For now, you can find me on Kindle by searching "SweatItOut." 

4.  My love of fitness is spreading, and it's spreading because of me.  The Werewolf is doing yoga all on his own and loving it.  He's namaste-in' with Rodney Yee two or three times a week and becoming more and more intent on maintaining his focus - so "please be QUIET, Mom and Sissy."  This makes me incredibly happy and even bustier with pride (well, maybe not bustier, but a gal can always dream).  This weekend we will be shopping for yoga supplies so he can try out some backbends.



The Werewolf's yoga partner

5.  Exercise is the key component to my productivity.  Days that I don't work out, I don't do much else either.  I allow myself to slump in front of the computer, the television, my iPhone.  My energy piques around 1:00 pm.  I begin getting cranky around 4:00.  Days that I do work out, my chores are done by noon, I'm chipper and ready to get outta the house by 1:00, and the kids typically follow by 2:00.  (I wait for them, of course....no matter how tempted I may be for a solo trip.)  Nutrition - the same!  When I take my supplements (added in a B-Complex to support my Iron) and eat well, my body thanks me with energy and good moods.  Why mess with it?  Sloth and gluttony just aren't my sins.

Those are all pretty kick ass new things about me.  But know what's better?  Next week, I'm gonna find out something else.  Fact is, I just get better on a daily basis.  So try to keep up, would ya?

Once A Runner...

Get ready, Readers.  Today marks the first day of Trifecta Training and as such, the first of many posts regarding my incredible gains as a runner.  If you're a runner, you're bound to find my itty bitty increment improvements interesting (notice the alliteration? I'm good.).  If you're not a runner...you should be.  It's awesome.  It's addicting.  And you have the added bonus of being able to race with me, because I am dying for some running buddies! 

What exactly am I training for, you ask?  The Runner's World Half Marathon and Festival in October, right in Bethlehem!  (I say "right in" because it takes me less than hour to get there, and when you live in a town without even a grocery store, that's "right in.")  They are offering not one, not two, but THREE RACES!  Now, of course you can sign up for just one or two...but that just seems like something I would not do...So I'm doing all three!  Saturday it's the 5k followed by the 10k and Sunday it's the half.  I am looking to bust my Rock N' Roll Half time (2:37) and really don't think I'll have a problem. 

I took an easy 20-minute treadmill run today, increasing incline to decrease boredom (I am more of an outside runner, but the treadmill is fab for days I can't get outside) and was impressed with myself.  I know, never happens, right?  Today it DID.  I didn't feel the need for a walk break at all.  This may sound like a small step to you, but it's a giant leap for me.  That Shaun T has turned this runner into a cardio MACHINE.  I had to repeatedly remind myself that today's schedule called for an easy run and it's perfectly okay to not want to keel over.  Add in that I'm technically in recovery week with Insanity and today felt pretty restful.  (Except that all of my challenge groups are participating in a low-to-high plank hourly challenge - 10 an hour - and I'm setting an example by doing it too...)

Rock N Roll

Anyway - I kept a 5.0 mph pace for my easy run.  Not Speedy Gonzales, but not Me From Last Summer either.  Not even Me From This Past Winter.  That used to be my top speed, not my easy peasy lemon squeezy pace.  I just busted through ANOTHER wall.  Thank you for your applause, but really - the roses aren't necessary.  (I prefer crowns and tiaras.)

The best part of today, though - feeling like ME.  The iron levels seem to be evening out - or maybe it's just the return to running.  I love it.  It totally gets me high on endorphins.  I can't wait for my outdoor early morning run tomorrow.  And I promise - I will remember every detail of every step my little Ghosts take (although they will soon be traded in and take their place on the closet floor next to my Frees, as their tread is all gone)...because I know you'll be waiting and anticipating, wondering and worrying.  Fear not, dear Readers!  We, friends, are BACK ON TRACK. 

And you're running with me, right?  Oh YAY!

Pay It Forward

My upline coach sent me this nifty little bracelet she received at the Beachbody Coach Summit in Vegas.  Bright orange with equally bright blue letters that spell out "Commit to pay it forward."  It was sent to me because she was proud of me for bringing on another coach and taking that next step towards Emerald. 

And yes, from the outside, I can see how that may all sound a tad cheesy or silly.  But from where this ever-fitter gal sits, that sounds like goals accomplished and a bright shiny future.  And paying it forward is why I started coaching in the first place.  I found my passion - sharing a love of fitness and the knowledge that each one of us can do positively incredible things when we decide and commit. 

Not much more than two years ago, I was in a rut.  A smelly, unattractive, gluttonous rut.  I smoked close to two packs a day.  My food was generally breaded, fried, or smothered in gravy or icing.  Chances that I actually prepared my food were on the very low side.  I climbed the stairs and felt winded.  I watched the kids play while I puffed my PFunks and pondered where we would order from that night.  Our shelves were fully stocked with PopTarts, multi-colored cereals, and boxes of neon macaroni-and-cheese.  Okay - I've gotta stop now, because I wanna vomit.

My third pregnancy took care of the smoking, just as each pregnancy had done before.  I desperately wanted to remain a quitter this time - and I did.  I credit that late-night informercial moment when I first laid eyes on Chalene and TurboFire. 

That singular program was exactly what I needed.  Not only was it fun, not only did I find myself looking forward to that hour every day...It pushed me to fitness levels I never thought I'd reach.  Which in turn made me wonder what MORE I could do.  So when my niece challenged me to run a half marathon with her, despite not being a runner...I said yes.  And for the first time, I began training specifically for an event.  This lit a fire under me and was that fire ever HOT!

I started looking at my nutrition; I began signing up for other events.  I tried new and harder Beachbody programs.  I felt a confidence I had not felt...well, perhaps ever.  I took the plunge and purchased my coaching kit.  And whether you believe me or not, I did it more to pay that feeling forward than to line my wallet. 

What I did not expect was the immediate welcoming of the Beachbody community.  But these people are encouraging and happy and also on a path to share a passion for fitness.  They have had the same successes and the same epiphanies.  So my story is not unique here, which makes me love my new job even more.

But of course I want to be a successful coach.  I also have confidence that I WILL be a successful coach.  I decided to do it and I am committed to doing it...so I will succeed in doing it.  Two ways to further that goal?  Push my workouts harder and up my nutrition even more. 

Do you see the cycle?  Do you see how true fitness can affect every other part of your life?  I mean, seriously...look at me now.  Smoke free.  Down three sizes.  Cooking my own freakin' applesauce.  I shit you not.  I made my own applesauce.  And my own energy bars.  And a seriously fabulous Mexican lasagna.  All vegetarian, all made in my kitchen.  Know what else I did today?  Insanity Pure Cardio.  I killed that sucker.  And if I wanted to, I could take those stairs two at a time and not feel a thing. 

A dear friend from college thanked me today and left this quote on my Facebook profile:
"When the student is ready, the right teacher will appear. -" anonymous. She meant me.  And she's not the first, nor do I believe she is the last.  I am doing what I set out to do - spread the word.  Think of me as an evangelical fitness enthusiast.  The best part?  I am just as proud of her accomplishments as I am of my own.  I know how hard she's worked and I've seen how far she's come.  I feel lucky that she is making me a part of that. 

So life is good.  I've got some big dreams and bigger ideas to bring to fruition.  But they all stem from that commitment to paying it forward.  Some things just don't change.

No Excuses

As I sit here and shiver through a layer of salt and sweat, I cannot help but be reminded of just how incredible I am.  Today was Cardio Resistance - lots of power moves, lots of upper body work.  It may be hard for you to hear this, but...my upper body is not as strong as I would like.  I know.  I know.  It saddens me too.  But that's why we work on it!  Well, that's why I work on it and then you read about it later.  Weak muscles are not an excuse to stop; they are a reason to press on!

So when I began this program, I could not do a single moving pushup.  Rewind, and let me explain.  If you were to find me at any other point during my day and ask me to give you a good set of moving pushups, I could fairly easily do so.  But when Shaun T demands them at the end of Cardio Resistance, I am already spent from globe jumps, power squats, v-pushups, and the like.  My lil ol' shoulders are at failure.  So up until today, I was modifying with regular or (gag!) "girly" pushups.  Again, I know.  My head hangs in shame.  Or it would...if I hadn't actually DONE those moving pushups today.  It's okay...your applause is welcome here.  Clap away!

I did 'em.  I had to take breaks, but I did 'em.  And I followed with the ever dreaded floor sprints.  Normally, my shoulders and arms are so taxed by that point that I simply cannot hold my sweaty self up.  Normally, I modify by doing standing mountain climbers.  Normally, I am slightly disappointed in my weak upper body.  Today, I was not normal.  (Hahaha.  Shut it.)  Today, I am about to bust outta my sneakers with pride.  It's working!  It's paying off!  Rope Climb 2013, here I come!!!! I may just knock that damn bell OFF instead of ringing it when I reach the top. 

I feel good.  I can barely keep my hands from sliding off the keyboard and have no idea how I'm going to wash my hair, but I feel good.  I DID IT. 

Friendly Competition

So it seems Hubby wants a little action.  (Outta the gutter, perverts!)  He is attempting to wrangle a few followers of his own by running a P90X challenge at the EXACT SAME TIME as my own Insanity (aka "Let's Get Crazy") challenge.  Hmmph.

Now, you all know I have a deep affection for Tony and his 90-day weight training program.  It was a certainly a nice way to get in shape...so that I could move on to a 60-day training program that requires absolutely no equipment whatsoever.  *battingeyelashes*smilingsweetly*  I will always be grateful to Mr. Horton for helping me to reach a point where I'm ready to tackle a program like Insanity.  And I'm sure, in the future, I may even return to P90X here and there, for I do enjoy the fine view it provides alongside a truly incredible upper body workout. 

It's just that right now, I need my space.  I'd like to see other instructors.  It's too soon in my fitness journey for me to be tied down to just one program.  I need the cardio of TurboFire, the booty work of Brazil Butt Lift, and the upper body strength training of P90X.  Turns out, I can get all three of those in one workout...and still enjoy the view. 

I consider these first two weeks "research."  Mainly because I am far too impatient to wait until the official start date of July 15, when my group will be taking the fit test, posting measurements and before pics, and generally being all excited to start the first workout on July 16.  But I will restart with them so we can all kick ass on the same schedule and relatively same diet plan. 

And by "kicking ass," I mean both our own and those of our opposing challenge group.  The gauntlet, my friends, has been thrown.  Who will yield better results?  (I'm suppressing a chuckle, because I already know the answer.)  Time will tell.  (snickersnortchuckle) 

As Tony says, BRING IT.  Things are about to get INSANE.

The Word of the Year

The word of the year seems to be "motivation."  Who has it, who doesn't.  Who needs it, lost it, harnessed it, found it.  Without it, your ass is glued to the couch, the bed, the chair.  With it, your ass is shakin' to the beat of life.  So what's the secret, you ask?  How do I get me some of that, you wonder?  Well, come here...lean in close...

...I don't know.

Because it's different for everyone.  What worked for me may not work for you.  That doesn't mean I'm not going to go on and on and on about what worked for me.  Trust me, I will be babbling about what worked for me long after the cows come home from wherever they've been (and seriously, why are those cows always leaving home and where exactly are they going? Party animals.).  But you need to figure out what motivates you.  And, in my own personal experience, I find there are different sorts of motivation I require at different times.  So...I am, once again, about to extoll the virtues of what motivates me and how and when.  (That is why you stopped by, isn't it?)

Motivation Sort #1: What Gets Me Off My Inert Ass.  Before the sweating even starts, there's the battle of simply starting.  Which often times is the biggest battle of all.  Whether you're slidin' outta bed before the rooster even consideres crowing (hey, I live in rural PA.  Deal with the farm imagery.) or your workouts have to wait until...well, until the owls start hooting (sorry)...it's often that simple decision of lacing up your shoes, shrugging into that sports bra, pulling on those shorts.  There are different things that get my blood pumping.  Sometimes, the thought of the workout itself is enough.  I love flexing my new muscles and pushing my lungs to capacity...most of the time.  But - and I'm about to spill something top secret here - I'm HUMAN.  No, seriously.  There are moments when even I, the SweatItOut Queen, do not care to sweat it out at all.  I can blame fatigue, boredom, anemia, injury.  The fact is, when I don't wanna, it's mostly just that I don't wanna. 

That's when I gotta pull out the big guns.  (That's imagery that goes along with rural PA as well.)  See, now my hobby is my business.  Those five extra pounds could be five less orders, five less clients.  This often keeps me in line late at night when the rest of my household companions are snoring peacefully (and quite loudly, thus my wakefulness) and I find my tastebuds hankering for something coated in either chocolate or breading.  Anyway - I digress.  I am motivated by my strong desire for my business to succeed.  There's one way to get my rear in gear.

Other ways include sipping on E&E Formula (takes me from negative energy to SURPLUS ENTHUSIASM in ten minutes or less), watching Insanity or TurboFire infomercials, perusing Pinterest for motivational pictures of fit bodies.  Anything to remind me of how I'm gonna feel when I'm all done.  Which is not guilty, not regretful, not tired.  Sweat instills the exact opposite of those feelings in me. 

So I got started.  What more does one need, you may ask.  Let me tell you!  You need Motivation Sort #2: What Keeps My Ass Moving.  Because sometimes, you may have the get-up-n-go to start but not the drive to finish.  Some workouts just plain BITE IT. You know the ones.  The programs you started with the best of intentions and the highest levels of excitement only to shove them guiltily into a darkened corner so as not to be reminded of their existence.  For me, it was spinning.  Now, I have friends who ADORE spinning and I am incredibly happy they have discovered their soul mate workout.  I bought my padded shorts.  I shuffled into class faithfully...for about three weeks.  Not for me.  Turns out MY soul mate workout was TurboFire (I may have mentioned this once or twice).  I find Chalene Johnson to be highly motivating at EXACTLY the points I require her to be so.  When she yells, "YOU'RE NOT TIRED!" at the moment I am ready to toss my weighted gloves aside...well...I find I am NOT TIRED.  I believe her.  And that little mantra, in her voice, clicks in my head during some hard runs as well.  So to sum up this point: FIND YOUR SOULMATE WORKOUT.  Not only will it resolve Sort #2, it may even resolve Sort #1.

And then, of course, there is Motivation Sort #3: What Makes Me Do It Again.  And Again.  And Again.  And...well, you get the picture.  If my soul mate workout begins to feel stagnant (which can happen from time to time; thankfully, we always reconnect enthusiastically), I have other programs I love nearly as much - HipHop Abs, P90X, yoga, RUNNING, QiDANCE, step, ChaLEAN Extreme.  I also have the reminders of my upcoming events.  Can't brag if I don't do 'em.  Can't do 'em if I don't train.  I like to brag.  A LOT.  So that's a preeeettty big motivator, right there.  I enjoy looking at photos of myself from events and seeing how much fitter I am than I was at my previous event.  Makes me feel kinda good about me. 

And now, I have this Challenge Group.  They make it all fun and stuff.  Their daily photos and their incredible support of each other (though most of them have never met) is highly motivating.  We are only on the fourth day, and I'm already dreading Day 30 when I turn them loose.  Which is why I need to get my fix with another group.  I have become a Challenge junkie.

These are just some of the things that work for me.  When you stop back, you'll hear them again, but they'll be sprinkled with other ways I trick myself.  I can only take you so far...you know, you can lead a horse to water (thought I was done with the animals, didn't ya?)...but you can't make him put on running shoes and sprint around the track.  Find your WHY.  Polish it up, make it all shiney, give it a spot on the mantle.  Then get to sweatin'.

Get Into The Groove

I finally got my sixteen miles in this weekend.  To be more precise, 16.48.  I ran a new route through the National Park portion of the Delaware Water Gap and fell in love while listening to Sheryl Crow sing "Run, Baby, Run."  It was the moment of my run.  Every run or workout has the moment that keeps me coming back.  Some even have a series of them, and this run was one of those.  But this moment was the moment of the moments for this one.  I even did a little Leo and Kate on Titanic moment to soak it in.  My joints felt great, my muscles felt strong, my lungs felt full.  It was a good day to be alive and running.  And the song just made it more.

Any workout can be a better workout with the right playlist.  I favor anthemic feminist songs (and I'm not ashamed to include Fighter by Christina and  Stronger by Britney in that mix), but just about anything can get my heart pumping the way I need it to.  My only prerequisite for adding a tune to my list is that when I hear it, I immediately want to sing and sing LOUDLY.  I have everything from Neil Diamond to Indigo Girls to NWA blasting in my ears when I run.  Although I am always scouting new additions, these are a few of my all-time favorites to make my little feet move faster and farther.

Eminem, Lose Yourself.  Great beat.  Fantastic lyrics.  In-your-mother-f&#*in'-face attitude.  YES, please and THANK YOU.  No matter how beat I may feel before this comes on, I am always at the top of my game during and for miles after I hear "You only get one shot..."  And I swear, my ipod saves this for that exact moment I start to fade or pause to think about throwing in the towel, because every single run, this song gets me back on track. 

Ozzy, Crazy Train.  Love the song, sure.  But I love what it brings to mind even more.  My little werewolf listened to this song to get pumped up for his wrestling matches, and there were so many moments he could have given up (and gotten lots of non-embarasssing hugs and kisses from his mommy) but didn't.  I just picture him and that scary look of determination and know that I simply cannot fail.  Even if he is at home waiting with lots of completely wanted hugs and kisses for his mommy.

Zac Brown Band, Toes.  Simply because it takes me away from burning lungs and the twinges in my knees and/or shins and plants my tired fanny right where I want it, in warm sand under a blue and sunny sky (and preferably next to a very tan cabana boy holding a Skinny Girl margarita).  This song takes me out of my current location to a much more desirable one, if only for a few minutes and is closely followed by Where The Boat Leaves From on my favorites list.

Anything by the Beastie Boys.  Do I really need to expand on this?  Or can we all just agree that the three boys from Brooklyn, quite simply, rock?  (Strangely, I have the same to say about Prince and No Doubt.  It's just good music, people.)

Bruce Springsteen, Born To Run.  It's a tad obvious, but it works.  The raw emotion, the sweeping chorus.  Plus, I am running so close to New Jersey that I feel obligated to throw in some of the Boss and a smattering (or a hefty helping) of Bon Jovi. 

Joan Jett, Bad Reputation.  Because really, I don't give a damn about my bad reputation.  I've got more important things to worry about than others' fascination with my life (though, of course, it is completely understandable, seeing as how I'm AWESOME).  I'm runnin' over here, people!  I don't give a damn about anything other than my breathing and my pace.

These are just a few.  Name another great tune and I'm likely to say emphatically, "I LOVE that one! That's my favorite!"  In this way, I am much like the young werewolf, as his favorite song is whichever great song happens to be playing at the moment.  This month, most often, that is Eastbound and Down by Jerry Reed (and yes, I just confirmed with him that I had the correct artist name).  And guess what?  That's a pretty good running song for me, too.  I've got a long way to go, and a short time to get there...I'm gonna do what they said can't be done...

Maybe I ought to get a bandit mask to wear with my tiara...

Rah!Rah!Sis-Boom-Bah!

My biggest supporter...

So yesterday, I had to vent.  Get some stuff off my extra-strong chest.  I grumbled and made use of a small amount of sarcasm.  Today I'd like to balance that out.  You know, just like I do both weight training and cardio (and stretching...I'm getting better at adding in the stretching now, but that's an entirely other blog entry...hinthint...)

I have committed to training so much that I often feel I just ought to be committed.  Most days are two-a-days, with each session ranging anywhere from thirty minutes to over an hour.  That's a pretty big chunk of time with four monkeys, two dogs, two cats, and one engineer needing my everpresent guidance and ordering-around.  Yes, there's naptimes, school times, work times in which to wedge my sweaty alone times, but often enough, I have to create that space when all these creatures are actually home.  Which means I must depend on them to allow me to utilize that time.  Hubby must tend to monkey spats and tattles, doggy doody (hehe), and any random need the smaller creatures may find they have while I smile, wave, and run away.  Without Hubby, my long runs would be nonexistent.  And there would be no foot rubs while I describe them in great detail to what I am sure is his sincere interest.  (I'm sure his thoughts are more along the lines of "mmmm...beer" but I still like to pretend he's enthralled with my breathing ease at mile nine.)

Running away is the best.  I get to be all alone, no distractions.  Their little legs are just too short to catch up with me.  But (sigh) sometimes it is not to be...Sometimes, I must work out in the living room while the house is full up with others, just waiting for that moment when my breathing gets heavy...so they can ask me why the sky is blue, if I've seen the new commercial for that plastic toy that will break instantly upon being touched, or (my personal favorite) - "Hey, Mom...guess what?"  It can totally suck to exercise at home...but it can also be the most rewarding work out of my week.  It's not every day that people are amazed at what I lift or how high I jump.  Chalene Johnson does not peek out from the television screen to admire my pumps.  My favorite, though, is when they enter the room in sweats and sneakers, wristbands and tank tops, and ask if they can join in.  They tend to fade out when the steps get too fast, but they slide into a nearby chair and chat to me, compliment me, and encourage me in my sweaty endeavors. 

I'm aware that the naysayers I wrote about yesterday exist in greater numbers, but their power is minimal when compared to my own personal cheerleading squad.  And it extends beyond the M&M Estate.  When I ran my ten miles last month in my hometown, my finish line included sisters, children, nieces, parents...even my parents' neighbors.  At least three times a week, I find personal messages on Facebook or hotmail, thanking me for inspiration and offering congrats on just my training.  I haven't even finished my race yet, and the cheers are pouring in.  I wish I could get you all gold-plated megaphones or dollar-bill pompoms...but that will have to wait until my Beachbody business takes off just a tad bit more...All the same, I thank you from the bottom of my ever-fitter heart, because without you, I couldn't keep on keepin' on the way I do. 

*MWAH*

What the...?!?!

Okay, so I posted the photos...I can see the difference.  I can feel the difference.  But I made Hubby do my measurements because I just had to compare...and I actually gained inches and pounds.  So...how come?  And yes, that was meant to be read in a whiney, petulant, and quite immature manner, because that was my exact reaction.  How can I be further from the goals I set for myself when I have been working so diligently?  I made him remeasure for good measure.  I briefly considered that we may have a faulty tape measure.  I nearly became disheartened.  BUT...

When I began this journey, I maxed out at ten pushups on my knees.  And that was on a good day.  Now, I can bust out fifteen on my toes - and follow that set up with some military style, wide angle, decline, and divebomber pushups, still on my toes.  My five-pound weights are pretty dusty because they've haven't been touched in weeks.  I can run 14.5 miles and still play outside all afternoon with my kids.  I no longer strain to touch my toes, because instead, I am touching the floor during stretches.  Instead of modifying shorter cardio workouts, I'm busting out every move at the top of the class - TWICE A FREAKIN' DAY. 

So, my little pity party is over.  We don't pity the Awesome.  We are not sad for the Incredible.  And I'm pretty sure I'm both of those right now (I'm riding a pretty intense P90X Plyometrics high).  As I've said before, my goals, they are a-changin'.  Sometimes I just need to use my newly developed quads to deliver a swift kick into my own firm ass as a reminder.  The bikini will come, but the better stuff is coming first. 

The Little Picture

Taking off into the fog

It was one of those mornings.  I was T-I-R-E-D.  And the M&M Clan had a B-U-S-Y day ahead of us.  Taking two to three hours to run seemed not only the exact opposite of what I felt like doing (shoving my head back under the pillows and flattening out my body under the covers so no one could find me), but it also could have put us in a severe time crunch (and I tend to get mildly cranky in times of severe time crunches.  As long as "mildly" is translated into "very."). However...my Type A brain was hyperaware that Run For The Red is a mere two months away and my training days are numbered.  Plus, I want a cute new running skirt to wear for my marathon, and I don't think I can convince Hubby I need one unless I actually run the marathon.  So, I channeled my inner Barney and suited up.

Now, I checked the temperature the old fashioned way - by looking out the window and then reading stats on my iPhone.  Foggy and 41.  That sounded like layering weather to me, but I have learned the overdressing lesson and the non-sexy-appeal of the roadside strip show.  So I figured sports bra and a light coat, topped with my ever-so-attractive neon vest so I would glow in the fog.  I even considered putting my hood up over my cap, my neck was so chilly...for the first two minutes.  I wasn't even ten minutes in before I ripped the coat off.  New lesson: global warming really is warm.  No more long sleeved layers until the fall (if we have one of those again). 

Geared up

So, for those first ten minutes, I was blaming my lack of enthusiasm on being overheated.  Coat off, I blamed it on a tough leg workout two days prior.  Then, on not getting enough sleep.  I found myriad reasons to turn around and go home, or better yet! Call Hubby to pick me up roadside like a free couch.  However...I realized for perhaps the first time ever that it would be easier to finish out than it would be to give up.  No one would have to know (besides the Clan that had watched me prepare my fuel belt and set mapmyrun) except me.  Guess what?  Apparently, I am enough for myself.  Go figure.

Rather than face a knowing stare in the mirror (and, Readers, I look in the mirror A LOT), I trekked on, still listing excuses as to why I shouldn't.  I knew by then that I wouldn't stop, but it helped pass the time during those three-minute running intervals.  This was one of those days when each minute seemed to drag out FOR-EV-ERRR, some of them beating my lungs into submission, others more focused on twisting my quadriceps into a pairing for peanut butter.  Regardless, I powered through the first forty-five minutes in misery.

I forced myself to focus on each minute rather than the full stretch of 14 miles I was scheduled to run.  Fourteen is a bunch of miles, if you want to get all technical about it.  That could be a daunting number.  Not quite as daunting as the 26.2 looming on the horizon, but it was intimidating enough for a Saturday.  And see, this was the real reason I was lacking in my usual excitement at long run day: don't tell anyone, but I am getting just the tiniest bit nervous about running that marathon.  Not enough to bag the idea, but enough that I lie awake counting 26.2 sheep, each of them in little Nike Frees sprinting over my head.  There is always the what if of it all and I am not good at contemplating the what if.  I am more of a who-needs-planning-when-you've-got-enthusiasm sort of gal and what if  has never been a close friend of mine.  So, the worry is there, in the deep recesses of my brain (but never fear - the shallow end is untouched and busy planning my race day outfit).  What I needed to do was break it down from The Big Picture to The Little Picture: minutes.  I can do anything for one minute, right?  It's pretty much true and it gets me through some fairly intense training.  Try it sometime.  Promise yourself you'll really hammer out one minute of tough cardio or lifting.  I bet you find that minute can get you pretty far.  And a minute is seriously less threatening than 14 miles.  If fourteen miles is a child-eating clown from Maine, a minute is the cute fluffy kitten of training increments.  Who doesn't love a kitten (besides the aforementioned clown)?  And my brain can focus for sixty seconds.  Maybe not for much longer, but one minute I can certainly handle.

Then, somewhere along the road, I found myself in what I cleverly call "the Zone." (Clever, right?  I'm full of unique catchphrases!) At some point, I had forgotten to keep track of interval times and lost half an hour in the depths of the Zone.  Know what?  I FELT GREAT!  Like, Tony the Tiger great!  I felt so great, in fact, that I continued running sans walking for the majority of my 14.5 mile run.  I not only entered the Zone, I made it my permanent address.  I relished the warm weather and the sudden strength in my legs.  I basked in the growing sunshine and the increased capacity of my lungs.  This...this moment...is why I run.  When my brain relaxes and my body just works.  When my every thought is so cheesey it ought to be poured over nachos (made from organic blue corn, without salt).  I love that I get to run the back roads where there is so little traffic most days I can forget where I am.  I adore that I have hills to run up and speed down, trees to shade me, and streams and rivers to sparkle in the sun.  This is the zen of running for me - when I can fully appreciate not just my healthy body but the gorgeous world surrounding it. 

Of course, eventually, I have to let it go.  Today, it was when non-locals felt the sweaty panting runner on the side of the road was the best person to get directions from.  (No lie.  They pulled their van right over and beeped at me despite the appearance of local businesses RIGHT IN FRONT OF THEM.  Luckily, I am just newly local, so I could honestly be of no help to them.)  Still, although I left the zen behind, I was still in the Zone.  I ran farther than I ever had before, faster than I ever had before.  I ran 14.5 miles ten seconds faster than I ran my Rock N Roll Half Marathon.  And I felt FANTASTIC!  My usually sore knees were at least 75% less sore than usual (thanks to the glucosamine I started taking daily) and I was bouncing like a Bubba while I stripped off the fuel belt and vest.  Sleepy didn't set in until I was riding in a sunsoaked passenger seat and my belly was full. 

But even then I still had bragging rights.  I mean, come on.  I said the zen was a reason, not the only reason.

14.5, baby! BRING IT!

When Jenny Met Running

You know you need to exercise.  Everyone is telling you.  Your neighbor.  Your doctor.  Your friends.  The crazy lady at Chic-Fil-A.  Maybe that last one is just me, but you get my point.  It's not brain surgery or rocket science.  It's a given.  The knowing is easy.  The starting can be just the teensiest bit difficult, and the sticking-with-it even harder (something akin to a root canal sans novacaine comes to mind).  BUT...I believe that if you have that much dislike for your workout, you're just doing the WRONG WORKOUT. 

I've done 'em all. I like most of 'em.  But I looooooove TurboFire and I downright LUST after running.  It just took me about twenty years to discover the first and appreciate the other.

Think of it like dating.  We learn as we grow...

 As a teen, I loved the big hair and bright colors on Buns of Steel.  I gritted my way through each agonizing minute, but my buns never reached the approximation of any sort of metal.  Because I only gritted my way for about a week.  Then in college, I experimented with jazzercise type videos (everyone experiments in college!) and even had a brief fling with running and lifting (my roommate did it and promised it would make me feel good).  After college, I got a job as a step aerobics instructor and personal trainer (I was inching closer, but the fit still wasn't quite right). 

About a year ago, I saw a TurboFire informercial during a middle-of-the-night newborn feeding.  I watched in awe as they shook booties, kicked high, and punched hard.  And those abs! I felt my own midsection and noted it was not the same as theirs.  But the announcer promised it COULD BE in just 90 DAYS.  I was desperate.  I handed over my husband's debit card faster than my newborn could fill a diaper.  And guess what? GREAT FREAKIN' PURCHASE! Because it changed my fitness life. 

And with this new level of cardio confidence, I took my own self to Providence, RI and ran a Rock N Roll half marathon just five months later.  BadASS. Now I became a runner.  I have previously described my love of running and all that entails, and I can pretty much promise I will refer to it again in the future.  (You don't just talk about your spouse once and forget 'em, do you?)

Soooo...my point (yes, I still have one) is this: I found the workouts I needed to make me WANT TO DO IT.  I nearly salivate when workout time approaches.  At various points throughout my day, you can catch me mid-chore with a faraway look in my eye, and I'm seriously contemplating my sweat schedule.  It's these dirty little daydreams that keep me revved up for the late-night rendevous with Mr. Horton and my hubby...We get (P90)X-rated six nights a week, baby!

Your workout is out there.  If you've started a program and found it wasn't for you, remember: there are lots of exercises in the gym.  Keep looking, put yourself out there.  A little yoga here, some HipHop Abs there.  Before you know it, you've got google eyes for your very own workout and the two of you are attached at the sneaker.