National Day of Running??? WHAT?!?

Today is National Running Day! I only became aware of this outstanding celebration yesterday, but darn tootin' I'm taking part.  Partly because I have a run scheduled for today anyway, but also because I love the idea of celebrating running!  You know why I adore running? Just in case you don't, I'm gonna tell you.

I love the freedom of it.  As in, it's cheap.  Equipment is minimal - you get yourself a good solid pair of running shoes, and you're set.  The rest - the iPod, the watch, the fuel belts - are add-ons.  You don't have to have them. 

Setting out for an early morning run

I love the solitary aspect.  Yes, I'm a people person most of the time.  That's how come I crave alone time.  For the majority of the day, I am busy cramming my thoughts into other people's heads and trying to process the myriad little voices that are fighting to enter my own head.  (Although, to be fair, those little voices share a basic unifying thought: "MOM!" Apparently, just saying that one. singular. word. over and over is entertainment enough.) 

I love the sense of accomplishment I get from a long run.  I enjoy my TurboFire, my P90X, my HipHop Abs, and my QiDANCE...but the feeling after a long run is just...separate. Because just last year, right around this time, I could barely eke out 20 minutes.  Running is a measurable accomplishment, a way for me to say, again, that my body is capable of amazing things.

My first race medal

I love running for the sense of peace I receive during a long run.  And by long run, I mean longer than an hour and preferably longer than two. It takes me that first hour to find my place, my zen, my stride.  After that, the freedom and the solidarity combine and my world takes on a rosier hue.  Cars may pass; their sounds are muted.  The sun can shine; the rain can fall; the wind can blow...everything just adds to the moment.  For me, running is the only workout I have found that offers this sense of quiet, this sense of relaxation during maximum effort.  I think more clearly; problems that plague me before my feet hit the asphalt suddenly sort themselves out and seem small. 



Finishing my first marathon

I love the sense of community among runners.  Experienced runners are consistently enthusiastic about helping beginners; elite runners rejoice in the amateur runners' race times.  Picture a dog finding another dog.  For them, that moment is ALWAYS AMAZING.  In their world of humans, they have discovered another canine at last.  Runners are the same way.  Don't believe me? Attend any race, walk into any runner's store, and find someone who's been running for years.  Tell them you're new to the game and ask advice...and be prepared to chat for a good length of time. 

I love that I can share it with my kids.  Sure, the runs will be shorter and slower.  But someday, I imagine that we will be completing 5k's, 10k's, half marathons, and full marathons together.  My daughter especially has a natural runner's gait and a wonderful speed.  I am already envious of her potential as a runner, as I am of the slow-and-steady variety. 

Take this National Day of Running as a sign, a hint, a reason...and lace up! Step out! Go RUNNING!  Clear your head; find your zen; feel that pride.  All you've gotta do is put on your shoes and GO.

Legend...Hold the Dairy...

I talk a LOT about the exercise side of fitness.  It's my love, my passion, my addiction.  And yes, it gets me results.  It makes me stronger, faster, leaner...more irresistible.  Plus, it's fun.  I get to kick, punch, run, dance...and I typically only have to do so for one to two hours a day.  Which, I feel, is pretty easy.  The nutrition side of fitness...that side which glowers upon regular chocolate cake consumption and does not condone a daily intake of Funyuns...that is not so fun.  And, until recently, it was not even remotely easy for me.  Good thing I like challenges and being told it can't be done.

I was never what anyone would label "a healthy eater."  I was more likely to fall under the category of "eternal grazer" or "garbage disposal."  I ate massive amounts of food in single sittings with constant snacking energizing me between meals.  And I ate things like Weis dessert bowls (frequently enough that my coworkers began calling them "Jen Bowls"); king size Snickers bars; 20-piece McNuggets with three different sauces so my delicate pallette would not get bored.  We frequented the diner down the street so often that we had our own booth and the waitresses knew our "usuals." 

Then I started TurboFire and started dropping pounds and inches.  I was, to put it mildly, quite pleased.  I continued to drop when I picked up running, and I started gaining muscle when I began using ChaLEAN Extreme.  But that mid-section still looked suspiciously poochy, as though it might be carrying something.  And it was.  It was carrying Big Macs, taco pizza, everything fries, and too many desserts to name (but all containing chocolate).  I took a moment to be frustrated, to feel depressed, to pout and whine and stomp my feet regarding the unfairness of it all.  Then I turned to my favorite place for change: Beachbody. 

I wanted more results and I wanted them faster.  I ordered HipHop Abs, E&E Formula, and my first round of Shakeology.  I signed up for my personalized meal plan and started using myfitnesspal again.  I returned to Body Confidence by Mark McDonald. Things began happening. 

First, I fell in lust with Shaun T and in love with E&E.  Then I made a lifelong commitment to Shakeology, which led to a lifelong commitment to (mostly) clean eating.  Because here's the thing: I have that shake in the morning, and I find it ridiculously easy to maintain healthy eating for the remainder of the day.  My body gets what it needs, so minimal (if any) cravings follow.  For a girl that used to hide candy bars in the freezer so my kids wouldn't get them, who used to stock an entire file drawer at my desk with snacks ranging from funsize chocolate bars to entire boxes of cereal...that's kind of a big deal. 

Now here came the most kickass part of all the kickass-edness (yes, it's a word!): I had ab muscles under that pooch! And a waistline!  For the first time since junior high, I saw flat abs in my future.  I don't even have to flex.  They just pop out.  It's like every day, I'm more awesome.  It's hard to believe, right?  How does one so awesome continually find more room for awesome?  Barney Stinson ain't got nothin' on this girl.  Legend...

Speaking of dairy...Yeah.  I don't do that anymore, either.  At least, the occasions are few and far between.  I originally cut it out as part of the Body Confidence jump start plan, but found that not only did I not miss it, I felt better overall.  And after being dairy free for a few weeks, when I had a small glass of milk...Let's just say, things weren't the same between me and the white stuff anymore.  Which just makes decisions that much easier still.  Again with the awesome.

And again, my point behind all this rambling is THIS: if I, the bacon-loving, chocolate-cake-shoveling, fried-cheese-inhaling garbage disposal and former champion of all encased meats, can not only change my diet and garner control over my eating but am actually SATISFIED with my current intake...then so can you.  I don't wanna hear crap about healthy foods being too expensive.  I don't wanna hear "but my kids won't eat that."  I especially don't wanna hear "but that's too difficult."  I will slap that french fry right outta your mouth. 

Fact: eating right will extend your life.  It will extend your children's lives.  Less sickness equals less prescriptions and less trips to the doctor.  Fact: your kids will eat what you provide.  You're the parent and you make the rules.  When my children complain, I make them this deal: get a job, do the shopping, prepare the meals.  Then we can have cheeseburgers and potato chips every night.  Guess what?  We're still eating organic veggies and grilled fish or chicken.  Fact: the more you do it, the easier it gets.  The only difficult part is the first two or three weeks.  Once those devil toxins are cast from your body, you will crave things like cantaloupe and mixed greens and water.  And then I won't have to keep slapping you.  Which is nice for both of us.

And now that I have finished my Dwight Shrute-like diatribe, I'm going to go sip my green tea, read a little Mama Llama with the babe before he naps...and then I'm gonna rip into HIIT 15 and some ab work.  Because Shakeology gave me the energy to do so.

It's The Climb

 This is where I am at the end of the first interval of 99% of my training runs.  Within five minutes, I am far enough away from the main road to not hear traffic and far enough into my session to begin realizing how blessed I am to live where I do.  We may not have Starbucks or malls and we may have to drive more than 20 minutes to get anywhere...but look what we do have.  It's not a fair trade; we certainly claimed the long end of the stick.  At this point, I am more likely to run past fishermen than cars and am more likely to be alone than in the presence of fishermen.  It's a quiet beginning to a quiet run, just the way I prefer it.  If anything is going to throw me off on Sunday, it will be the chaos that accompanies every starting line.  Because from here, I move on to this:

More tranquility, more beauty, and even less signs of progress.  My usual company here consists of geese (although, those geese aren't always tranquil...) and the occasional farmer on his tractor.  If the stream is high enough and rapid enough, I like to lower the volume on my iPod so I can listen to the water rush by.  By the time I get here...

I am already feeling the zen of sneakers hitting asphalt, the evenness of my breathing, the energy pushing my legs faster.  To the right is the lake, where I'm likely to see more fishing enthusiasts and runners like myself.  This is when the rest of my world begins to fall away, when I forget about the laundry, any temper tantrums or bills to pay, and my mind shifts instead to what lies ahead.  Because from here, it's only a few miles to get to my favorite spot...

This is my treat, one I only get when I do distance training.  It's about ten miles out and if I want to go through here, I have to plan on at least two to three hours of run time.  I've previously described the "veggie portion" of my runs.  This is my double chocolate fudge cake, fresh out of the oven.  It's worth busting through any tiredness that tries to creep in to hear the gravel crunch under my feet and know that I have a good two miles to be snug in this trail before I re-enter the real world of painted lines and fast cars.  I swear, the best songs always play here and I do some of my clearest thinking along this path.  Many a blog entry has been formulated between these trees and many a problem solved.  If my race has any spots like this, I'll be golden come Sunday.

No matter how far I run or which route I take, I always start and finish on the same road, with the same hill.  Setting out, the downhill is a great warm up and spur to get my feet movin'.  Coming home...it is the bane of my existence.  There was a time, seven or so months ago, that I was barely able to walk back up.  It required everything I had to breathlessly climb this hill.  Now...I run it.  Slowly.  Awkwardly.  But I'm running.  This hill may not be the steepest I've encountered during my months of training, but it is the most symbolic.  I can't get around it.  This is the way home and the last few minutes of my run.  I can either make it count or I can decide my run is over at the base.  I decided long ago to make it count.  So while this picture may not seem impressive or beautiful to you...to me, it is a turning point not only in my physical strength, but my mental determination as well.  If I can conquer this hill after a 21+ mile run, I can certainly finish that marathon. 



I Got To Keep On Movin'

Okay.  Run for the Red is ten days away.  I am still injury free, despite my cats' attempts to do me in via a stairway fall and the babe's fascination with rolling Matchbox cars my way during TurboFire.  But then, two days ago, my iPhone fell in the toilet.  (Clean bowl, thank the heavens.)  All was good - except the volume.  No sound.  A minor wrinkle, to be sure, but enough of a wrinkle to start those sneakered butterflies running laps around my belly.  For no volume = no music for 26.2 miles.  No volume = no voice reminders for my intervals.  (Hey, we're all spoiled by technology, and the lady who gently reminds me of my time has become a close friend of mine.)  A wrinkle to be sure, but I could iron this one out (and iron it far better than any shirt unlucky enough to meet my ironing board).  As of today, I am the proud and excited owner of the iPhone 4s and I have a new lady in my life.  So, see?  Crisis averted.

Oh, but wait!  Those ten miles I was scheduled to run this afternoon?  The ones Hubby and I planned our schedules around to be sure they weren't missed?  They're gonna be missed.  Apparently the engineers in Jersey did not get my training memo and Hubby has received extra work at the office.  Seriously?  Don't these people know my race is but ten days away?  I briefly toyed with the idea of pawning the older children off via playdates at someone else's home, but that still leaves me with a teething babe.  It is doubtful he (or I) would make it through ten miles with a jogging stroller.  And Mother Nature is just rubbing salt in my wounds.  The first gorgeous day in a week and my running feet are trapped in crosstrainers.

That's right.  I laced up the Asics and popped in a DVD.  I may not be assured of the time I need to meet my planned mileage, but that doesn't mean I'm sprawled out in bed trying to figure out why every female my age or older is raving about Fifty Shades of Grey (I tried, ladies...but melodramatic softcore porn will never beat out Abraham Lincoln, Vampire Hunter).  No.  I just finished forty-five minutes of Zumba (all that listening to QiDANCE lately had me in the mood to dance) and if need be, I'll log some extra TurboFire time today.  I'm still dreaming of a quick run, but Chalene always has my back if I can't get there. 

My point is this: Murphy's Law is real.  It does exist.  Life exists.  Every day problems creep out and worm their way into your plans.  This is the point when many say they don't have the time to work out.  Well, I haven't been training for six freakin' months to let life get in the way of my goals.  I can't run?  So what?  I can still train and get my heart racin' for the two hours I planned on those ten miles taking me.  Screw you, Murphy.  I got bigger fish to fry. 

I have been called stubborn, bullheaded, and other descriptive words I choose not to share.  I'll take that.  If I wasn't, I wouldn't be meeting goals left, right, and straight on.  I'd still be in the same old rut, dreaming of being fit and wishing I had race medals hanging on my walls.  I wouldn't be sharing my love of fitness with everyone I meet (and some I haven't) or helping others get started meeting their own goals.  So, yes...I am stubborn.  I refuse to let life's annoyances interfere with my to-do list.  It's like the Bear Hunt song my kids used to sing in preschool...Can't go over it, can't go under it...You gotta go through it.  It's really the only way (plus, it's the most fun way too).

(And PS...it's this bitch got it done for six months...and now this bitch has that leopard bikini...:)  BOO. YAH.)



Excuses vs. Reality

I am willing to bet that you made a New Year's Resolution, and I am willing to bet that resolution had something to do with your health.  Maybe you had a specific number of pounds or inches to lose, a size you wanted to reach, a diet to change, or an exercise routine to begin.  My question to you is: HOW FAR HAVE YOU GOTTEN?

If you're like OldMe, not very far.  The shine dulled on those resolutions by mid-February, when the days are short and dark and cold.  There's always an excuse as to why fitness goals simply do not fit into your current lifestyle.  I know, because I used to cuddle those excuses like new puppies, and I made sure I showed them off the same way.  So people would know I wasn't weak and a quitter, just "unable."  (Picture me now, rolling my eyes and smirking at OldMe and her lazy ways.)

The number one excuse: "I don't have the time."  Do you have the time to be sick? Do you have extra years of life you just don't want to use? I didn't think so.  If you wait for the time to appear, it's never going to happen.  You MAKE the time, you don't find it.  I am a mother to four, one of whom is just over a year.  I do not work outside the home, but honey, you better believe I WORK in it.  My day does not stop until my head hits the pillow.  Working out has become my sanity saver, so I make time for it Every. Single. Day.  Whether it's before everyone wakes up or after they've gone to bed; whether I find a stolen hour during Sesame Street or during naptime; whether I am running alone or walking behind a stroller, I MAKE THE TIME.  My family is happier for it, because if Mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy.  And I am happier for it, because I have more energy to devote to everyone else, more patience to give them, and more love to give myself.

Then there's the odd excuse of "I'm not fit enough to do a workout." Um...okay...How do you suppose you will get fit enough to exercise?  As far as I can tell, the only way to do so is to begin. Walk.  Lift.  Dance.  Stretch.  Build up.  Not everyone needs an "extreme" routine, but everyone needs a routine.  Fitness grows with you and your goals will too.  I started running last summer and found it a major accomplishment to complete two miles at a 3:2 interval.  Now, I'm a running goddess who considers two miles a warm up.  A year ago, a marathon seemed like too much and I wasn't remotely interested.  Now, I get butterflies in running shoes every time I contemplate May 20 (the date of my first marathon).  People change, fitness changes them.  Trust me on this one.

"Health food has no taste."  Then you're not doing it right.  Plain and simple.  I drink chocolate deliciousness every morning for breakfast - gluten free, made-from-whole foods, low-glycemic-index chocolate deliciousness!  Shakeology is the proof in the pudding - almost literally - that healthy does not equal tasteless.  And there are sooooo many recipes for tangy, spicey, tastey, tastebud-thrilling foods that I refuse to even speak of this excuse any further (see my photo of whole wheat cranberry scones above? There's your thousand words.)   Next topic!

"It's too expensive to buy healthy foods."  I actually agree, but that's life.  Plus, think of the cash saved on doctor's visits, OTC meds, and pounds of junk food that won't fill you up.  No lie, I drink one shake at breakfast, and my normally bottomless pit is sated for a good two to three hours.  I toss together a healthy snack, and I am satisfied again.  When I was noshing on candy bars, donuts, and Weis dessert bowls, I would garner one of two results.  I would either a) feel incredibly nauseous due to the overabundance of fats and sugars I had just inhaled or b) still be starving and thus inhale more fats and sugars until I felt so nauseous I had to stop.  A pleasant side effect to cutting out (mostly - I still stray from time to time, but find I don't enjoy it quite as much) the empty calories is that much of my daily irritation has been cut out as well.  My blood sugar no longer crests and plummets seemingly at will.  I don't need caffiene to stave off headaches.  Again, Mama is happier and that equals a happier M&M Clan.

Give me an excuse, and I will give you a reason it sucks.  Today's blog is about tough love, people.  I don't wanna hear why you can't; I wanna hear why you WILL.  Forget resolutions, forget life overhauls.  Make small changes every day.  You didn't turn into a lounging mass of sugar in a day.  I bet you've worked on it every day for years.  My own formation into starchy inactivity was a gradual but steady decline, just as my climb back to fitness has been.  Now, I'm firmly entrenched.  This gal ain't goin' back.  Been there, done that.  Hated it. 

What got me motivated? I was tired of being tired.  I was exhausted with negative self-image.  I was so over wasting energy envying every fit person passing by.  I could either continue down a path that was all wrong for me, or I could stop making pitiful excuses and choose a new direction.  I warned you: I am a born-again fitness enthusiast and I will be annoyingly chipper about it.  You can either be annoyed or become annoying.  (Psssst! It's a lot more fun on this side!)