So, I figured what better way to start off 2012 than to (finally) post a new blog. This post is going to be about some epiphanies I have had while running in the wee hours of the morning--mainly some connections that I have found between running and my faith. I know, I know. You thought this was only going to be a fitness blog (me too). But, guess what. I can write whatever I want to. So here goes.
About 2 years ago, I started running. I was seriously overweight and out of shape, so I started by using the Couch-to-5K running podcast, and after just a few short months, ran my first ever 5K race. I was slow, but I met my goal of running the entire 3.1 miles, hills and all. I was hooked! I bought a bunch of running gear, subscribed to Runner's World Magazine, and started training for a 1/2 marathon. Still, though I was faithfully running 2-3 times a week, I hesitated to call myself a "runner." In my mind, "runners" are people who hop out off bed every morning, thrilled to be able to hit the road before the sun rises, have long, graceful limbs, free of the fat and cellulite that plagues us mere mortals, and they can run (without tripping) smoothly for hours on end, without breaking a sweat, needing to hydrate, stopping to use the restroom, etc. I beat myself up thinking that I would never be one of THEM, as my stride would better be classified as a shuffle, sweat routinely pours down my face (even in the bitterest of cold mornings), and I find myself asking, about 73 times/minute, why in the world I thought it was a good idea to leave my comfy bed to trip along on the sidewalk, constantly on guard against the snakes, skunks and alligators that I am POSITIVE are stalking my path.
Well, in an attempt to keep this from being the longest blog post in the universe, let me sum up some things that I have come to learn about running over these 2 years. First, and most important, running is an ATTITUDE, not a speed, body shape, finishers medal, super wampadine watch or even a Personal Record (PR). I am a runner because, (at least on some days), I go out and run. It doesn't matter how far I run--whether it's 10 steps or 10 miles. I am a runner simply because I run. I choose to leave the warmth (or, in the summer, the refreshing coolness) of my apartment and I go out there and push my body. Now, if you've ever seen me running, you might be thinking "I'm pretty sure that I can walk on my hands faster than Anela is running," and you know what, you're probably right. Snails have been known to pass me up, I assure you. But guess what. I AM a runner. I choose to identify with the lifestyle and the philosophy of running, so whether or not you like it or agree with it, I can honestly and truly classify myself as a runner.
That's not to say that I haven't experienced some backlash, even from some people who would call me their friend. I can't say that it doesn't hurt a little (okay sometimes a LOT) when I am talking about running, or training for an upcoming race, and I see the look of surprise (not the good kind) and incredulity on their faces as they ask things like ,"so, uh, have you started, like, uh, training yet?!? Because it's clear that they are looking at my chubby (cushy? plump? large? squishy?) frame and thinking that I clearly don't resemble what a RUNNER looks like (lean, graceful, sweat-less...you get the picture). I've got to be honest. Sometimes, I just want to punch them in the face. Because I never said that I was planning on WINNING the race, or pacing at 6 minute miles. Heck, I never even said that I was going to RUN the ENTIRE time. But yes, stupid. If I have signed up for a 1/2 marathon, then yes, I have been training. Meaning, while you were sleeping in your cozy little bed on Saturday morning, I was out running 7, 8 even 10 miles sometimes. And sure, I went slow and walked some of it. But I ran a whole hell of a lot farther than these so-called friends who just look at me, jaws dropped, because I don't fit the mold of what they think a RUNNER is. In life, there will always be skeptics. I have learned (mostly) to ignore them, because it's how I see MYSELF that really matter. I see myself as a RUNNER, so I AM A RUNNER, no matter what these other bozos think or say.
Okay, by now you're probably looking back at the title of this post and thinking "didn't she say something about Mormonism?" I'm getting there. Just give me a second.
You may have figured out by now that I am a Mormon (if not, I'm letting the cat out of the bag right here and now). Some of you reading this may be Mormon, some of you used to be Mormon, and some of you may have never heard of Mormons. I am not here to share the belief system of my church. If you want to know more, simply go to www.lds.org or ask me. I AM here to to address what are some common misconceptions about Mormons, usually misconceptions that we have about ourselves, and how this related to what I've learned about RUNNERS. MORMONS are often seen as the "happy people" who go around smiling all the time, have zillions of kids, don't drink coffee or alcohol, don't smoke or do drugs, spend THREE hours at church every Sunday, serve 2-year missions, and try and convert others to our faith. Well, I am here to let you in on a little secret. Are you ready for it? I am MORMON and I am NOT PERFECT! There, you have it! I know, I know. Some of you who know me and spend a lot of time in my company are surely wondering about this revelation, but I assure you, although I never make mistakes in front of you, on occasion, at home, behind closed doors, I have an unkind thought or two or, in rare instances, use foul language (like I did earlier in this post, when I used the term hell, or as I prefer to say, H-E-double hockey sticks). :-)Other than that, I'm pretty much PERFECT.
NOT!
So, here comes the analogy that you've been waiting so patiently for. Spirituality is a lot like running. We are all at different places in our spiritual fitness. Some people are born runners, with lean bodies that were seemingly meant to gracefully glide through races. Just like some people are naturally good at choosing the right and keeping the commandments. It's not that they don't have to work at it--just like professional runners, who spend hours and hours each day training and conditioning for their races, these righteous people spend hours and hours each day reading the scriptures, praying, serving others, and being Christlike. It doesn't make them any better than anyone else--it just makes them really good at something (running, or following the commandments) that may be really hard for a lot of other people.
I was not born to run. Even if I were to train for hours and hours a day, keep a strict diet, and bust my butt, I doubt I would ever break a 9 minute-mile. I will never be a competitive runner. Ever. But that doesn't mean that I can't be a runner. It just means that I will cross the finish line long after the elite runners have passed (and packed their bags, eaten lunch, gotten a massage, and headed home!). Let me tell you something I was born to do. I was born to read. My oldest brother taught me to read when I was 3 years old, using a newspaper and some old books. By the time my little brother was born (I had just turned 4), I was reading Berenstein Bear books to him. Reading has ALWAYS come easy for me. Not that I haven't put in the time--even now, I love to read and spend several hours each week reading. But I love doing it, so it seems much more natural to me than running. There are people out there who will never be able to read as quickly as I can, people who spend weeks and months puzzling out the words in a book that I can finish in a few hours. But they are still readers, and just like I shouldn't compare my weak area (running) to an elite runner's strength, a struggling reader should not compare their struggle with my strength. It's an unfair comparison.
The same thing goes with gospel principles. We all have things that we are good at doing, things that come easily. For some, sitting through 3 hours of church is no problem, for some, reading their scriptures is a "given," for others, paying tithing is just something that you "do," not something that you have to practice and agonize over. However, we are all at different spiritual fitness levels, so one person's strength is another person's struggle or weakness. Just because you forgot to pay your tithing, missed part of church, or didn't say a prayer this morning doesn't mean that you are a "Bad" Mormon. In general, I have found that I am my own worst critic. I feel that because I hold a set of beliefs that teach me to always strive toward self mastery and perfection, like the perfect example, Jesus Christ, somehow I feel that I should already be there, that I should be perfect. I hate to disappoint (and shock) you, but I still have a long, LONG way to go on that goal. However, the fact that I wake up each morning, determined to "be a Mormon," and live the principles that I hold to be true, makes me a Mormon, just as waking up in the morning, getting out of bed and going running, however far (or short) I go, makes me a runner.
Whatever others make thing (or say, or judge), I am the one who determines my fate, I am the one who decides how I will describe myself, what characteristics I will have, what principles I will uphold, what routes I will run. I am a runner. I am a Mormon Runner!
Sunday, January 1, 2012
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Missing: Cardiovascular endurance and leg muscles...
It's been a while since my last blog, I know. Let me take a few moments to explain the insanity that has been my life for the past several months.
Over Christmas Break, I became engaged. When I got back to work in January, I suddenly found myself planning an out-of-state wedding, while working a full-time job plus tutoring and babysitting on the side. Things were quite stressful but for January and most of February, I was able to keep up with my running. However, by the end of February, my body and mind were telling me that something was very, very wrong in my life. After a lot of prayer and soul-searching, I made the extremely difficult decision to break off my engagement and end that relationship. I am so very grateful for the decision that I made because it was the right thing for me to do. I was emotionally relieved and expected to bounce right back into running after getting rid of the cause of all of my stress.
My body, on the other hand, had other ideas. I got sick. Really sick. It started with a bad cold. A few weeks later, as the cold was finally getting better, I woke up one day with a super sore throat, swollen glands, and just a general feeling of crappiness. I had mono, and it was brutal. The entire right side of my face was swollen, and my throat hurt so bad that I wished I didn't have to swallow. Every day was painful. After a few weeks, the swelling went down and I was starting to feel a tiny bit better when...BAM, I was hit with bronchitis. Seriously, I felt like my body was attacking me, and I didn't know how to get better. At first, I felt terribly guilty for missing work outs, but then I realized that running was not a priority anymore. I was in survival mode, and just making it through the day without collapsing was difficult at times. Often during the day I would get light-headed and spent much of my teaching time sitting down. I walked around school like a zombie, talking myself through the day hour-by-hour.
Needless to say, it hasn't been my best semester. Weeks passed, and I only felt minimally better. Then, finally, I started to feel like my old self again. I tried walking a few times during April, but just going a few miles would wipe me out for days (thanks to the after-effects of mono), and I just didn't have time to be sitting around in bed, as I was still working and tutoring on the side, putting in 50-60 hours/week. May came, and although I wanted to start running, I just couldn't handle it, physically or mentally. I was afraid to face the truth--that all the months I had spent training for my 1/2 marathon were most likely going to be erased, and I was going to have to start all over again...
So I waited. I blamed my lack of activity on the "end of the year stress" and "still recovering from mono." I told myself that as soon as school was over, I would get back into running. Then, I learned that National Running Day was June 1, so I promised myself that I would start running again on that day. Well, that also happened to be the day that my parents were arriving for a visit, and I was still working, so the hours passed and I didn't get out for a run. I excused myself by saying that my family was visiting, and that as soon as they left, I'd get back into it.
This week, they left on Tuesday. Yesterday I was at a professional development class all day, so again, I put off the exercise. I'd gone walking a few weeks ago, and I've been swimming laps at a friend's pool the past few days, but I hadn't been able to bring myself to try running.
Today, I decided, was THE DAY. The day that I faced my fears and benchmarked myself. I realized that I've been avoiding this day for weeks, because it's now been 3 1/2 months since I last ran. And, if I'm being honest, I just didn't want to see how bad it was--how out of shape I've gotten. I was avoiding running, thinking that somehow, if I put it off a little longer, I'd magically be able to do it well again. Maybe if I put on my running shoes, much like Dorothy's Ruby Slippers, clicked the heels three times and said "there's nothing like running" then I'd suddenly find myself in the middle of a long run with 4 miles easily under my belt.
Ha. No such luck. What I did find this evening, when I finally faced the music and went for a run, was that 3 miles seemed like an eternity, and that that first two minutes of running felt like the longest two minutes of my life. I use the run-walk method, and usually complete my runs by running for 2 minutes and then walking brusquely for 1 minute. I have this neat-o Garmin watch that beeps at me so I know when to walk and when to run. So, I started my run with every intention of running those 2-minute stretches but going slower than I normally do. Yeah, if by slow you mean that I was being passed by snails, that would be about the pace I was going at. And after those first two minutes, I wasn't even able to run the full two-minute intervals. I would run as far as I could, and then walk. About half way through the run, I couldn't run at all anymore. I was feeling faint, and trying hard NOT to pass out, so I walked. When I felt better, I walked faster. When I felt faint, I slowed down. But I was determined to finish those three miles, even if I had to crawl.
While I was running I started thinking about the last time I started an exercise program, a year-and-a-half ago. I kept thinking of how I weighed almost 70 lbs MORE than I do now, and yet, I was motivated to get out there and run. And I thought about how, this past semester, I HAD to put running on the back-burner and focus on healing my body and mind from the fall-out of my very stressful relationship and break-up. And you know, that's OKAY. It's okay that I took a sabbatical from working out, because sometimes, there are things that are FAR MORE IMPORTANT than running. We all have times in our lives when the poop hits the fan and it's all we can do to get out of bed in the morning. I had several months of that. My body literally broke down. And it's going to take a while to get back into the shape that I want to be in. But I've done it once before, so I KNOW that I can do it again.
Instead of focusing on how much I've digressed, I instead choose to focus on how much I have LEARNED about myself in the past several months. I am much, MUCH more appreciative of my general good health, and although it's going to take several weeks to build back my endurance and muscles, I feel so blessed to BE ABLE to build those things back up. I'm grateful that my poor health was temporary, and that I'm not strapped with a debilitating disease that would prevent me from running. I ran/walked 3 miles today. I have recorded my mileage and time on my calendar, and I have ONE goal for Saturday morning--to run/walk three miles in LESS time than it took me today. There's no sense comparing now to my OLD times...that was a different Anela, in a different place in my life, the Anela who hadn't faced the enormous challenges of this year, who hadn't yet OVERCOME those challenges and ended up BACK ON TOP. I wouldn't trade what I've learned for a faster mile time. NEVER! This is the NEW ANELA, and now I have a place to start. It took me 42:04 to go three miles. Saturday, I will do everything in my power to improve that time, even if it's only by one second.
After all, the most important thing isn't where you've been, it's where YOU'RE HEADED. And right now, I am a RUNNER, who is headed back to the sport that I love.
Over Christmas Break, I became engaged. When I got back to work in January, I suddenly found myself planning an out-of-state wedding, while working a full-time job plus tutoring and babysitting on the side. Things were quite stressful but for January and most of February, I was able to keep up with my running. However, by the end of February, my body and mind were telling me that something was very, very wrong in my life. After a lot of prayer and soul-searching, I made the extremely difficult decision to break off my engagement and end that relationship. I am so very grateful for the decision that I made because it was the right thing for me to do. I was emotionally relieved and expected to bounce right back into running after getting rid of the cause of all of my stress.
My body, on the other hand, had other ideas. I got sick. Really sick. It started with a bad cold. A few weeks later, as the cold was finally getting better, I woke up one day with a super sore throat, swollen glands, and just a general feeling of crappiness. I had mono, and it was brutal. The entire right side of my face was swollen, and my throat hurt so bad that I wished I didn't have to swallow. Every day was painful. After a few weeks, the swelling went down and I was starting to feel a tiny bit better when...BAM, I was hit with bronchitis. Seriously, I felt like my body was attacking me, and I didn't know how to get better. At first, I felt terribly guilty for missing work outs, but then I realized that running was not a priority anymore. I was in survival mode, and just making it through the day without collapsing was difficult at times. Often during the day I would get light-headed and spent much of my teaching time sitting down. I walked around school like a zombie, talking myself through the day hour-by-hour.
Needless to say, it hasn't been my best semester. Weeks passed, and I only felt minimally better. Then, finally, I started to feel like my old self again. I tried walking a few times during April, but just going a few miles would wipe me out for days (thanks to the after-effects of mono), and I just didn't have time to be sitting around in bed, as I was still working and tutoring on the side, putting in 50-60 hours/week. May came, and although I wanted to start running, I just couldn't handle it, physically or mentally. I was afraid to face the truth--that all the months I had spent training for my 1/2 marathon were most likely going to be erased, and I was going to have to start all over again...
So I waited. I blamed my lack of activity on the "end of the year stress" and "still recovering from mono." I told myself that as soon as school was over, I would get back into running. Then, I learned that National Running Day was June 1, so I promised myself that I would start running again on that day. Well, that also happened to be the day that my parents were arriving for a visit, and I was still working, so the hours passed and I didn't get out for a run. I excused myself by saying that my family was visiting, and that as soon as they left, I'd get back into it.
This week, they left on Tuesday. Yesterday I was at a professional development class all day, so again, I put off the exercise. I'd gone walking a few weeks ago, and I've been swimming laps at a friend's pool the past few days, but I hadn't been able to bring myself to try running.
Today, I decided, was THE DAY. The day that I faced my fears and benchmarked myself. I realized that I've been avoiding this day for weeks, because it's now been 3 1/2 months since I last ran. And, if I'm being honest, I just didn't want to see how bad it was--how out of shape I've gotten. I was avoiding running, thinking that somehow, if I put it off a little longer, I'd magically be able to do it well again. Maybe if I put on my running shoes, much like Dorothy's Ruby Slippers, clicked the heels three times and said "there's nothing like running" then I'd suddenly find myself in the middle of a long run with 4 miles easily under my belt.
Ha. No such luck. What I did find this evening, when I finally faced the music and went for a run, was that 3 miles seemed like an eternity, and that that first two minutes of running felt like the longest two minutes of my life. I use the run-walk method, and usually complete my runs by running for 2 minutes and then walking brusquely for 1 minute. I have this neat-o Garmin watch that beeps at me so I know when to walk and when to run. So, I started my run with every intention of running those 2-minute stretches but going slower than I normally do. Yeah, if by slow you mean that I was being passed by snails, that would be about the pace I was going at. And after those first two minutes, I wasn't even able to run the full two-minute intervals. I would run as far as I could, and then walk. About half way through the run, I couldn't run at all anymore. I was feeling faint, and trying hard NOT to pass out, so I walked. When I felt better, I walked faster. When I felt faint, I slowed down. But I was determined to finish those three miles, even if I had to crawl.
While I was running I started thinking about the last time I started an exercise program, a year-and-a-half ago. I kept thinking of how I weighed almost 70 lbs MORE than I do now, and yet, I was motivated to get out there and run. And I thought about how, this past semester, I HAD to put running on the back-burner and focus on healing my body and mind from the fall-out of my very stressful relationship and break-up. And you know, that's OKAY. It's okay that I took a sabbatical from working out, because sometimes, there are things that are FAR MORE IMPORTANT than running. We all have times in our lives when the poop hits the fan and it's all we can do to get out of bed in the morning. I had several months of that. My body literally broke down. And it's going to take a while to get back into the shape that I want to be in. But I've done it once before, so I KNOW that I can do it again.
Instead of focusing on how much I've digressed, I instead choose to focus on how much I have LEARNED about myself in the past several months. I am much, MUCH more appreciative of my general good health, and although it's going to take several weeks to build back my endurance and muscles, I feel so blessed to BE ABLE to build those things back up. I'm grateful that my poor health was temporary, and that I'm not strapped with a debilitating disease that would prevent me from running. I ran/walked 3 miles today. I have recorded my mileage and time on my calendar, and I have ONE goal for Saturday morning--to run/walk three miles in LESS time than it took me today. There's no sense comparing now to my OLD times...that was a different Anela, in a different place in my life, the Anela who hadn't faced the enormous challenges of this year, who hadn't yet OVERCOME those challenges and ended up BACK ON TOP. I wouldn't trade what I've learned for a faster mile time. NEVER! This is the NEW ANELA, and now I have a place to start. It took me 42:04 to go three miles. Saturday, I will do everything in my power to improve that time, even if it's only by one second.
After all, the most important thing isn't where you've been, it's where YOU'RE HEADED. And right now, I am a RUNNER, who is headed back to the sport that I love.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
5am: Constellations, Snake Skins and PR's, Oh my!
So, I know that it's been a while since I last posted, and I should probably apologize for not keeping up. But I'm not going to. I've been busy running my first Half Marathon (San Antonio Rock and Roll on November 14, 2010), falling in love with my Greek God, getting engaged (to my Greek God), trying to plan a wedding and deal with a long-distance relationship, working, tutoring after school, and training for the Houston Half Marathon on January 30 and the Surfside Beach Half Marathon on February 26.
Moving on to some important lessons I've learned. Scientists say that the species that survive are those that learn to adapt to their ever-changing environments. The same can be said of anyone who wants to make physical fitness a lifelong commitment and priority. When I first started exercising a year ago, I would come home from work and immediately head to the fitness room at my apartment complex to run on the treadmill. My friend would often come over and work out with me, which was a huge motivation. Some days, I was able to leave right after school was over, and we'd be running by 5:30 pm. Other days when I stayed late to tutor, we didn't get there until closer to 6:30 pm. But this schedule worked beautifully for me, and I successfully managed to get in 3-4 work outs each week.
Fast forward to last fall, when I was training seriously for my first half marathon. I wasn't even tutoring after school at that time, but I found that I was having a very hard time working out in the evenings. I often had meetings after school, and by the time I got home, I had no energy, mental or physical, to hit the gym. I started missing workouts. I was in a slump and didn't know how to re-energize myself.
One day, about mid October, I was reflecting on how much I enjoyed my Saturday morning runs. Since I needed to log more miles on the weekend, I would get up early Saturday morning (because even in October, it was bloody HOT here in Texas), head to a nearby subdivision lake, and run for an hour or more. Weirdly, after the first week or two, I found that I actually looked forward to getting up early for these runs. I even found myself going to bed early Friday nights so as to be prepared to wake up at the crack of dawn when all "normal" people were enjoying their day to sleep in.
So, I started doing some calculating. I recognized that I liked running in the morning and felt that I actually ran much better at that time. But, not being independently wealthy and having to work during the week, I figured that if I were to exercise in the morning before work, I'd have to wake up and the awful hour of 5am. Yikes! Just the thought of getting up that early made me tired. But I resolved to give it a shot, just to see what would happen.
That first week, Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday mornings came and went, and 5am found me still sleeping in my bed. Finally, on Thursday, I managed to drag my weary bones out of bed and get moving. I laced up my Brooks running shoes, strapped my Garmin Forerunner 305 GPS watch to my wrist, put my iPod on shuffle, and headed out. Man, it was dark! But as I headed down the road by my apartments (the one with NO sidewalks and NO streetlights), I looked up and realized that I could see stars--not just a few specs of light in the sky, I mean, serious clusters of brightly twinkling stars! They were beautiful! They totally energized me to keep going.
As I was trotting down that unlit road, I started to wake up, body and mind. My limbs loosened, my breathing regulated, I felt the fuzz of sleep leave my brain and for the first time in a while, I had a clarity and sharpness of mind that I liked. Maybe this 5am thing wasn't so bad after all! A few miles later, as I was just about to reach the 1/2 way mark, I noticed a shape ahead; as I got closer I realized it was a SNAKE! I squealed and found that despite the early hour and the fact that I'd already run 2 miles, my legs were nevertheless able to LEAP away with amazing speed and agility. Upon closer examination, I found that it was actually just a snake skin that some slithering serpent had so kindly left behind to scare the daylights out of me!!!
By the time I got back from my morning run, I was feeling GREAT! And my times were faster than what I'd been running in the evening! In spite of the early hour, I felt refreshed and energized and ready to take on my day. While I was at work, I kept thinking how great it was that I had already finished my workout and wasn't trying to figure out how to schedule it into my already busy evening. By 8 o'clock that evening, I was tired--my early morning run had caught up with me and I was ready for bed!
Since October, I have been doing something that I never thought I'd do--getting up at 5am to go running. I've never been a "morning person," but I have found that at least right now, the best time of day for me to workout is in the wee smaas of the morn. And I LOVE it! Now, I've had to really prioritize some things, like going to be early, in order to facilitate this. But I have once again found a way to organize my life so that I have time to be physically active.
Now, I recognize that not everyone is going to be willing or able to get up at the crack of dawn to exercise. But the lesson I've learned is that if we want to be physically active then we have to be willing to move things around, maybe go to bed earlier, or whatever it takes to MAKE exercising fit into our schedules. There is always going to be something you'd RATHER be doing--there will ALWAYS be an excuse, if you're looking for one. The REAL challenge is to look past the excuses, find what works for you and JUST DO IT!
For now, though...I'll see you at 5am!
Moving on to some important lessons I've learned. Scientists say that the species that survive are those that learn to adapt to their ever-changing environments. The same can be said of anyone who wants to make physical fitness a lifelong commitment and priority. When I first started exercising a year ago, I would come home from work and immediately head to the fitness room at my apartment complex to run on the treadmill. My friend would often come over and work out with me, which was a huge motivation. Some days, I was able to leave right after school was over, and we'd be running by 5:30 pm. Other days when I stayed late to tutor, we didn't get there until closer to 6:30 pm. But this schedule worked beautifully for me, and I successfully managed to get in 3-4 work outs each week.
Fast forward to last fall, when I was training seriously for my first half marathon. I wasn't even tutoring after school at that time, but I found that I was having a very hard time working out in the evenings. I often had meetings after school, and by the time I got home, I had no energy, mental or physical, to hit the gym. I started missing workouts. I was in a slump and didn't know how to re-energize myself.
One day, about mid October, I was reflecting on how much I enjoyed my Saturday morning runs. Since I needed to log more miles on the weekend, I would get up early Saturday morning (because even in October, it was bloody HOT here in Texas), head to a nearby subdivision lake, and run for an hour or more. Weirdly, after the first week or two, I found that I actually looked forward to getting up early for these runs. I even found myself going to bed early Friday nights so as to be prepared to wake up at the crack of dawn when all "normal" people were enjoying their day to sleep in.
So, I started doing some calculating. I recognized that I liked running in the morning and felt that I actually ran much better at that time. But, not being independently wealthy and having to work during the week, I figured that if I were to exercise in the morning before work, I'd have to wake up and the awful hour of 5am. Yikes! Just the thought of getting up that early made me tired. But I resolved to give it a shot, just to see what would happen.
That first week, Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday mornings came and went, and 5am found me still sleeping in my bed. Finally, on Thursday, I managed to drag my weary bones out of bed and get moving. I laced up my Brooks running shoes, strapped my Garmin Forerunner 305 GPS watch to my wrist, put my iPod on shuffle, and headed out. Man, it was dark! But as I headed down the road by my apartments (the one with NO sidewalks and NO streetlights), I looked up and realized that I could see stars--not just a few specs of light in the sky, I mean, serious clusters of brightly twinkling stars! They were beautiful! They totally energized me to keep going.
As I was trotting down that unlit road, I started to wake up, body and mind. My limbs loosened, my breathing regulated, I felt the fuzz of sleep leave my brain and for the first time in a while, I had a clarity and sharpness of mind that I liked. Maybe this 5am thing wasn't so bad after all! A few miles later, as I was just about to reach the 1/2 way mark, I noticed a shape ahead; as I got closer I realized it was a SNAKE! I squealed and found that despite the early hour and the fact that I'd already run 2 miles, my legs were nevertheless able to LEAP away with amazing speed and agility. Upon closer examination, I found that it was actually just a snake skin that some slithering serpent had so kindly left behind to scare the daylights out of me!!!
By the time I got back from my morning run, I was feeling GREAT! And my times were faster than what I'd been running in the evening! In spite of the early hour, I felt refreshed and energized and ready to take on my day. While I was at work, I kept thinking how great it was that I had already finished my workout and wasn't trying to figure out how to schedule it into my already busy evening. By 8 o'clock that evening, I was tired--my early morning run had caught up with me and I was ready for bed!
Since October, I have been doing something that I never thought I'd do--getting up at 5am to go running. I've never been a "morning person," but I have found that at least right now, the best time of day for me to workout is in the wee smaas of the morn. And I LOVE it! Now, I've had to really prioritize some things, like going to be early, in order to facilitate this. But I have once again found a way to organize my life so that I have time to be physically active.
Now, I recognize that not everyone is going to be willing or able to get up at the crack of dawn to exercise. But the lesson I've learned is that if we want to be physically active then we have to be willing to move things around, maybe go to bed earlier, or whatever it takes to MAKE exercising fit into our schedules. There is always going to be something you'd RATHER be doing--there will ALWAYS be an excuse, if you're looking for one. The REAL challenge is to look past the excuses, find what works for you and JUST DO IT!
For now, though...I'll see you at 5am!
Saturday, October 9, 2010
And the "Runner" is....
Today is the day that I officially claim a title that I have shied away from for months:
I am a RUNNER.
Now why has that been so hard to say?
My running journey began almost 8 months ago, when I decided to use Robert Ullrey's Couch-to-5K podcast as a tool to help me get in shape. I can remember that first run, when, after a warm-up walk of 5 minutes, I ran my first 60-second interval. That first minute didn't seem too long, but after 90 seconds of walking, I had to run another 60 seconds. The second one was okay, but by the 5th interval of running for 60-seconds, I began to realize how long a minute can be, and by the 8th (and last) interval, I was struggling to make my feet keep moving. At that time I was about 50lbs heavier than I currently am, so running really was difficult for me. I had so much extra weight that I was carrying around with me, and it was all my poor body could do to stay upright while my thunder thighs pounded away on my unlucky treadmill.
Weeks went by and I progressed through the program, gradually running for longer and longer intervals. In April, I was thrilled when I completed my first 5K race, running the ENTIRE 3.1 miles. But still, I didn't think of myself as a RUNNER. I mean, RUNNERS aren't super chubby people who bumble along with red faces, sweat pouring off their bodies like rain, huffing and puffing their way through each painful step as their flab giggles around like a giant bowl full of jello. No, surely I, overweight Anela, was not a RUNNER. I was just a girl...who RUNS (or at least attempts to run).
I ran two more 5K races at the beginning and end of May, improving my time each run. But still, I wasn't a RUNNER. I was just someone trying to get better at RUNNING, talking to people at work and convincing them to start training for the San Antonio Rock and Roll 1/2 Marathon in November. With the help of a co-worker, we formed a team for the San Antonio race. I passed along info about Robert Ullrey's podcast and how it helped me to get off my butt and start working on getting in shape. Several others at work caught the vision, and we started talking distances and training schedules in the hallway, shoes and trails at lunch, magazines and newfangled running gadgets after school.
Yet, I still didn't see myself as a RUNNER. After all, a RUNNER doesn't miss runs when she's stressed out, a RUNNER isn't tempted to say "to heck with it" and overindulge in chips and guacamole, a RUNNER doesn't go for days or sometimes weeks without working out, a RUNNER would never, ever lose motivation and wallow in her own self-pity. Not a RUNNER.
At the end of the summer, I definitely knew that I wasn't a RUNNER. After all, my summer had been completely and totally crazy, and my workouts were sporadic at best. My thoughts were confirmed when I was having dinner with some friends, and I told them I was training for a 1/2 marathon in November. They looked at my incredulously and asked, "have you started training yet?" Well, at that point I felt stupid saying that I had been running for months, and this conversation only confirmed my belief that I could never be a RUNNER. If people practically fell out of their seats when they heard I was going to run a race, then they were only reinforcing that what I see in the mirror every day is definitely NOT a RUNNER...it's just a girl trying to make herself get out there and RUN.
Last week, I went and got fitted for running shoes at Luke's Locker. I had my stride analyzed by an expert who had me try on several different pairs of shoes until she found just the right one for my feet. I bought new dri-fit running pants and a sports bra, a fuel belt (it has 4 small water bottles and a little pouch to keep keys and/or energy gels), and even bought two different kinds of energy gel to try out. All of those new toys, along with my awesome Garmin Forerunner 305 watch, which tracks heart rate, speed, distance, calories burned, and more, almost made me believe that I was a RUNNER.
Almost.
But I felt like an impostor. Surely if people saw me running (and I use the word "running" in a loose sense...it's really more of a jog) on the street with all my fancy gear, they would be thinking "Why in the world does that chubby girl need all those gadgets to shuffle along at that miserably slow pace?" In fact, in the past two months, as training for the 1/2 marathon has really kicked in, I find myself making excuses for and feeling the need to clarify what I mean when I say that I RAN 5 miles, or I RAN Thursday night. When people comment on it or ask about it (and I assure you they always do so in a kind and supportive way), I, in a fit of self-consciousness, feel the need to explain,"Well, I don't really RUN the WHOLE time, you know. I use the RUN/WALK method...I RUN for 2 minutes and then WALK for 1 minutes...and I'm really slow..." The excuses keep tripping out of my mouth because I wouldn't want people to get confused and think that I am a RUNNER.
After all, a RUNNER doesn't have 60 more lbs to lose. A RUNNER doesn't have to stop and walk every 2 minutes. A RUNNER has long, lean muscles, can pound the pavement for miles at a time, barely breaking a sweat, with smooth even breaths. A runner looks good in anything and can shop at any store, because a RUNNER'S body is slim and toned. A RUNNER is NOT what I see in the mirror...
Until this morning. As I rolled out of bed to eat breakfast at 6:20 on a Saturday morning, I realized that I was thrilled to be awake, munching on a banana and downing some yogurt. I checked the weather noting that 55 degrees was a great starting temperature for my run. I changed into all my fancy running gear, filling two water bottles on my fuel belt with Gatorade and two with water. I checked to make sure I had my Gu energy gel, excited to try it for the first time. I stepped outside into the crisp morning air, turned my watch on, stretching a little bit while it hooked up to the satellite, and then I was off.
I forgot my sunglasses, but that was okay. I had never run in my neighborhood before, but this morning I decided to just go wherever the wind took me. It felt great being outside, and I was surprised at how strong I felt, how my pace seemed faster, even after 4 or 5 miles. When I ripped open the Gu packet, I thought "this is what a RUNNER feels like," fueling up to go the distance. I keep going, even after I fell while crossing a median. I was amazed at what good time I was making. I hit the 6 mile mark, and whether it was the Gu, or me, I was ready to keep going. I thought that those last 2 miles were going to kill me, but I ENJOYED running them. I kept glancing down at my watch to check my pace and was shocked at how fast I was still going.
And then, around mile 7.5, I realized...I was having the time of my life. I DIDN'T WANT TO STOP! My run was almost over, but I wanted to go farther. I was loving the weather, the morning sunshine, the feel of how strong my body seemed. I couldn't believe that I still WAS going. As I walked towards my apartment at the end of my run, I realized that on this morning, I had crossed over some invisible barrier in my mind.
I realized that I AM A RUNNER!
And you know what, I HAVE BEEN A RUNNER, ever since that first day that I started the couch-to-5K podcast. It wasn't other people that I needed to convince--it was myself.
Now I understand that RUNNERS come in all shapes and sizes, they have flabby arms, cellulite on their legs, they sometimes eat too much ice cream, they occasionally stress out and miss workouts. Runners have days of rebellion when they just don't want to run. RUNNERS wear all kinds of different gear--everything from ratty sneakers and old sweatshirts to state-of-the-art shoes and GPS watches. Some RUNNERS can go for miles without stopping, while others take frequent walking breaks. The one thing that all RUNNERS have in common is that they RUN. However fast or slow, in whatever different sneakers or sports bras, in the morning or at night, daily, weekly, or monthly, in Texas or Tahiti, RUNNERS are people who get out there and RUN.
I AM a RUNNER. And I HAVE BEEN one--all along!
I am a RUNNER.
Now why has that been so hard to say?
My running journey began almost 8 months ago, when I decided to use Robert Ullrey's Couch-to-5K podcast as a tool to help me get in shape. I can remember that first run, when, after a warm-up walk of 5 minutes, I ran my first 60-second interval. That first minute didn't seem too long, but after 90 seconds of walking, I had to run another 60 seconds. The second one was okay, but by the 5th interval of running for 60-seconds, I began to realize how long a minute can be, and by the 8th (and last) interval, I was struggling to make my feet keep moving. At that time I was about 50lbs heavier than I currently am, so running really was difficult for me. I had so much extra weight that I was carrying around with me, and it was all my poor body could do to stay upright while my thunder thighs pounded away on my unlucky treadmill.
Weeks went by and I progressed through the program, gradually running for longer and longer intervals. In April, I was thrilled when I completed my first 5K race, running the ENTIRE 3.1 miles. But still, I didn't think of myself as a RUNNER. I mean, RUNNERS aren't super chubby people who bumble along with red faces, sweat pouring off their bodies like rain, huffing and puffing their way through each painful step as their flab giggles around like a giant bowl full of jello. No, surely I, overweight Anela, was not a RUNNER. I was just a girl...who RUNS (or at least attempts to run).
I ran two more 5K races at the beginning and end of May, improving my time each run. But still, I wasn't a RUNNER. I was just someone trying to get better at RUNNING, talking to people at work and convincing them to start training for the San Antonio Rock and Roll 1/2 Marathon in November. With the help of a co-worker, we formed a team for the San Antonio race. I passed along info about Robert Ullrey's podcast and how it helped me to get off my butt and start working on getting in shape. Several others at work caught the vision, and we started talking distances and training schedules in the hallway, shoes and trails at lunch, magazines and newfangled running gadgets after school.
Yet, I still didn't see myself as a RUNNER. After all, a RUNNER doesn't miss runs when she's stressed out, a RUNNER isn't tempted to say "to heck with it" and overindulge in chips and guacamole, a RUNNER doesn't go for days or sometimes weeks without working out, a RUNNER would never, ever lose motivation and wallow in her own self-pity. Not a RUNNER.
At the end of the summer, I definitely knew that I wasn't a RUNNER. After all, my summer had been completely and totally crazy, and my workouts were sporadic at best. My thoughts were confirmed when I was having dinner with some friends, and I told them I was training for a 1/2 marathon in November. They looked at my incredulously and asked, "have you started training yet?" Well, at that point I felt stupid saying that I had been running for months, and this conversation only confirmed my belief that I could never be a RUNNER. If people practically fell out of their seats when they heard I was going to run a race, then they were only reinforcing that what I see in the mirror every day is definitely NOT a RUNNER...it's just a girl trying to make herself get out there and RUN.
Last week, I went and got fitted for running shoes at Luke's Locker. I had my stride analyzed by an expert who had me try on several different pairs of shoes until she found just the right one for my feet. I bought new dri-fit running pants and a sports bra, a fuel belt (it has 4 small water bottles and a little pouch to keep keys and/or energy gels), and even bought two different kinds of energy gel to try out. All of those new toys, along with my awesome Garmin Forerunner 305 watch, which tracks heart rate, speed, distance, calories burned, and more, almost made me believe that I was a RUNNER.
Almost.
But I felt like an impostor. Surely if people saw me running (and I use the word "running" in a loose sense...it's really more of a jog) on the street with all my fancy gear, they would be thinking "Why in the world does that chubby girl need all those gadgets to shuffle along at that miserably slow pace?" In fact, in the past two months, as training for the 1/2 marathon has really kicked in, I find myself making excuses for and feeling the need to clarify what I mean when I say that I RAN 5 miles, or I RAN Thursday night. When people comment on it or ask about it (and I assure you they always do so in a kind and supportive way), I, in a fit of self-consciousness, feel the need to explain,"Well, I don't really RUN the WHOLE time, you know. I use the RUN/WALK method...I RUN for 2 minutes and then WALK for 1 minutes...and I'm really slow..." The excuses keep tripping out of my mouth because I wouldn't want people to get confused and think that I am a RUNNER.
After all, a RUNNER doesn't have 60 more lbs to lose. A RUNNER doesn't have to stop and walk every 2 minutes. A RUNNER has long, lean muscles, can pound the pavement for miles at a time, barely breaking a sweat, with smooth even breaths. A runner looks good in anything and can shop at any store, because a RUNNER'S body is slim and toned. A RUNNER is NOT what I see in the mirror...
Until this morning. As I rolled out of bed to eat breakfast at 6:20 on a Saturday morning, I realized that I was thrilled to be awake, munching on a banana and downing some yogurt. I checked the weather noting that 55 degrees was a great starting temperature for my run. I changed into all my fancy running gear, filling two water bottles on my fuel belt with Gatorade and two with water. I checked to make sure I had my Gu energy gel, excited to try it for the first time. I stepped outside into the crisp morning air, turned my watch on, stretching a little bit while it hooked up to the satellite, and then I was off.
I forgot my sunglasses, but that was okay. I had never run in my neighborhood before, but this morning I decided to just go wherever the wind took me. It felt great being outside, and I was surprised at how strong I felt, how my pace seemed faster, even after 4 or 5 miles. When I ripped open the Gu packet, I thought "this is what a RUNNER feels like," fueling up to go the distance. I keep going, even after I fell while crossing a median. I was amazed at what good time I was making. I hit the 6 mile mark, and whether it was the Gu, or me, I was ready to keep going. I thought that those last 2 miles were going to kill me, but I ENJOYED running them. I kept glancing down at my watch to check my pace and was shocked at how fast I was still going.
And then, around mile 7.5, I realized...I was having the time of my life. I DIDN'T WANT TO STOP! My run was almost over, but I wanted to go farther. I was loving the weather, the morning sunshine, the feel of how strong my body seemed. I couldn't believe that I still WAS going. As I walked towards my apartment at the end of my run, I realized that on this morning, I had crossed over some invisible barrier in my mind.
I realized that I AM A RUNNER!
And you know what, I HAVE BEEN A RUNNER, ever since that first day that I started the couch-to-5K podcast. It wasn't other people that I needed to convince--it was myself.
Now I understand that RUNNERS come in all shapes and sizes, they have flabby arms, cellulite on their legs, they sometimes eat too much ice cream, they occasionally stress out and miss workouts. Runners have days of rebellion when they just don't want to run. RUNNERS wear all kinds of different gear--everything from ratty sneakers and old sweatshirts to state-of-the-art shoes and GPS watches. Some RUNNERS can go for miles without stopping, while others take frequent walking breaks. The one thing that all RUNNERS have in common is that they RUN. However fast or slow, in whatever different sneakers or sports bras, in the morning or at night, daily, weekly, or monthly, in Texas or Tahiti, RUNNERS are people who get out there and RUN.
I AM a RUNNER. And I HAVE BEEN one--all along!
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Fighting the Funk
I don't know if anyone else out there watches NBC's "The Biggest Loser," but I personally find it to be one of the most inspiring shows on television. And yes, I cry like a dang baby all through each and every episode. Why? Because I know exactly how these people feel, only I don't have Bob and Jillian there to scream at me and make me face my issues. I have to find a way to FIGHT the FUNK all on my own.
As I recently wrote, I've been in a bit of a FUNK lately. Anyone who has dealt with obesity and weight issues knows it's far more MENTAL and EMOTIONAL than it is PHYSICAL. So my journey is all about identifying unhealthy MENTAL and EMOTIONAL things and fixing them so they stop negatively impacting my PHYSICAL well-being.
One thing that I have realized I tend to do when stressed out is to eat. And it's not like I crave a nice healthy bowl of fruit, or a low-fat salad, or crisp veggies. When I am stressed I want high-calorie food and I want it NOW! I find that very interesting. I was thinking about why I crave those horrible foods and then it hit me. I'm no medical expert, but I know that eating food produces endorphins and things in our brains. So when I am stressed and want to escape from the pain or the fear or whatever, I eat. And I mean, I shovel food down like a mindless machine. I eat, and eat, and eat.
Why?
Because I am trying to NUMB the pain or emotions that I am feeling. FOOD, in large quantities (particularly large quantities of the super-fattening variety) NUMBS my mind and my emotions, and offers a brief escape from the pains of life.
Reflecting on NUMBNESS reminds me of a time in my life when things were not so good for me, spiritually. For a long time, I was NUMB, unable to really feel or process emotions. The good part of being emotionally NUMB is that I was no longer able to feel pain. The bad part, though, of being NUMB is that I also lost the ability to feel joy or happiness. I remember months and months of just feeling nothing. After all the pain that I had felt, initially being NUMB was a relief. However, as time when on, I realized how much I was missing out on by my inability to feel. And how much I wanted my life back...the good and the bad.
I am slowly starting to realize that this same concept is true when it comes to FOOD. When I mindlessly sit at the table, eating spoonful after spoonful of fattening food, I am trying to bury the pain or stress or fear that I'm experiencing. But the NUMBNESS that comes with overeating also masks the joy and exhilaration of the good things in life.
So part of FIGHTING the FUNK means allowing myself to feel and taste (forgive the pun) all of life, the good and the bad. I cannot let food take over and NUMB my experiences, but rather use food, like a spice, to enhance the already rich flavors of my life. It is possible to eat and enjoy life without succumbing to temptation of overeating myself into a NUMB stupor.
A major reason that I am writing this blog is to be accountable to myself, and to the few people who read this, for my actions. I'm not on "The Biggest Loser." I don't have personal trainers like Bob and Jillian here to make sure I work out and eat properly. I don't have a house full of other contestants watching every bite I take. I don't have cameras rolling, streaming my calorie choices into million of households. I am beholden to no one.
Which is why I am here, baring my soul as a record and a testament of who I am, my struggles, my setbacks, my triumphs, my disappointments, my realizations, my ups and my downs. Maybe, just maybe, something that I say will resonate with someone else out there, and then it won't just be me changing my life--it will be two of us. And then three. And then four. And then maybe, someday, a whole lot more people will be LIVING their lives, instead of trying to NUMB themselves through their time on earth.
It's time to shake off the shackles of NUMBNESS. Don't be afraid of the pains of life, because experiencing the pains, frustrations and disappointments will make the successes and triumphs soooo much SWEETER. And we're talking calorie-free SWEET--the very best kind!
As I recently wrote, I've been in a bit of a FUNK lately. Anyone who has dealt with obesity and weight issues knows it's far more MENTAL and EMOTIONAL than it is PHYSICAL. So my journey is all about identifying unhealthy MENTAL and EMOTIONAL things and fixing them so they stop negatively impacting my PHYSICAL well-being.
One thing that I have realized I tend to do when stressed out is to eat. And it's not like I crave a nice healthy bowl of fruit, or a low-fat salad, or crisp veggies. When I am stressed I want high-calorie food and I want it NOW! I find that very interesting. I was thinking about why I crave those horrible foods and then it hit me. I'm no medical expert, but I know that eating food produces endorphins and things in our brains. So when I am stressed and want to escape from the pain or the fear or whatever, I eat. And I mean, I shovel food down like a mindless machine. I eat, and eat, and eat.
Why?
Because I am trying to NUMB the pain or emotions that I am feeling. FOOD, in large quantities (particularly large quantities of the super-fattening variety) NUMBS my mind and my emotions, and offers a brief escape from the pains of life.
Reflecting on NUMBNESS reminds me of a time in my life when things were not so good for me, spiritually. For a long time, I was NUMB, unable to really feel or process emotions. The good part of being emotionally NUMB is that I was no longer able to feel pain. The bad part, though, of being NUMB is that I also lost the ability to feel joy or happiness. I remember months and months of just feeling nothing. After all the pain that I had felt, initially being NUMB was a relief. However, as time when on, I realized how much I was missing out on by my inability to feel. And how much I wanted my life back...the good and the bad.
I am slowly starting to realize that this same concept is true when it comes to FOOD. When I mindlessly sit at the table, eating spoonful after spoonful of fattening food, I am trying to bury the pain or stress or fear that I'm experiencing. But the NUMBNESS that comes with overeating also masks the joy and exhilaration of the good things in life.
So part of FIGHTING the FUNK means allowing myself to feel and taste (forgive the pun) all of life, the good and the bad. I cannot let food take over and NUMB my experiences, but rather use food, like a spice, to enhance the already rich flavors of my life. It is possible to eat and enjoy life without succumbing to temptation of overeating myself into a NUMB stupor.
A major reason that I am writing this blog is to be accountable to myself, and to the few people who read this, for my actions. I'm not on "The Biggest Loser." I don't have personal trainers like Bob and Jillian here to make sure I work out and eat properly. I don't have a house full of other contestants watching every bite I take. I don't have cameras rolling, streaming my calorie choices into million of households. I am beholden to no one.
Which is why I am here, baring my soul as a record and a testament of who I am, my struggles, my setbacks, my triumphs, my disappointments, my realizations, my ups and my downs. Maybe, just maybe, something that I say will resonate with someone else out there, and then it won't just be me changing my life--it will be two of us. And then three. And then four. And then maybe, someday, a whole lot more people will be LIVING their lives, instead of trying to NUMB themselves through their time on earth.
It's time to shake off the shackles of NUMBNESS. Don't be afraid of the pains of life, because experiencing the pains, frustrations and disappointments will make the successes and triumphs soooo much SWEETER. And we're talking calorie-free SWEET--the very best kind!
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Wanted: Scapegoat
Lately, I have found myself in a funk. Not just an exercise funk, but a LIFE funk. What has been more frustrating than being in the funk is my confusion as to WHY I am there. Because NOTHING in my life has changed. I still have a great job. I still have wonderful, supportive colleagues who are more than just co-workers, they are my friends. I still have a fantastic family that includes the world's cutest nieces and nephews. I still have an awesome apartment where thing are clean and everything is done "my way" (ahhh, the perks of living alone!). I still have my faith in God and His plan for my life. I still have great friends who support me in all that I do. I still have a healthy body that is 55 lbs lighter than it was back in January. NOTHING has changed....and I'm beginning to think that THIS IS, in fact, the problem, the reason that I am in a funk.
Nothing has changed...except that, in addition to losing those 55 lbs, I have also lost my dear friend, SCAPEGOAT.
You see, my whole life has been spent trying to deal with the problem of being overweight. So, for as long as I can remember, I have been blaming (consciously or not) all of my problems in life on being overweight. OVERWEIGHT=SCAPEGOAT
As I began my new life this year, exercising and eating more healthy, I was sure that my life was going to change. After all, that's what I was doing--taking control of my health, and therefore, taking control of my life. Those first couple of months were tough, but I was moving forward at a good pace, really disciplining myself, and so happy to finally start seeing results. It was great. It was wonderful. The thrill of hitting that 50 lb mark was awesome...
And then reality started to hit. And has kept on hitting.
You see, losing weight has not changed anything for me. My job is the same. My friends are the same. My social life (or lack thereof) is the same.
The only thing that has changed is that I've eliminated my SCAPEGOAT. I can no longer blame my "problems" on my weight. I've hit a huge stumbling block, because at this point, subconsciously I am thinking "hey, why lose any more weight if it's not going to change anything?" It's not that I want to GAIN back those 55 lbs. HELL NO! It's just that right now, it's not that hard to maintain my weight where I'm at. I'm still overweight, but I am a lot healthier than I used to be. I can work out a few days a week, eat some healthy food, and then have several TREATS or SNACKS, and stay right where I am. That would be very easy. Heck, I've been here for a few months, sitting right around the same weight, in a holding-pattern.
I've tried to mentally break through the wall, but as soon as I start to see success (clothes fit looser, drop another few lbs on the scale), I go out an SABOTAGE myself by eating a bunch of junk, or skipping work-outs.
WHY??? Why do I do this to myself???
Because...I'm afraid. I don't know how to live without a SCAPEGOAT. So, if I were to be successful, keep losing weight, and finally get to my SKINNY weight...then what? What happens THEN when I'm still working the same job, still have the same friends, and still have the same social life (or lack thereof)?
What happens when I'm SKINNY and NOTHING has CHANGED???
That's my block. That's the funk that I'm in. That's the wall that I need to break through. That's my new hurdle.
I don't have the answers. At least, with the help of my BFF, I've finally been able to identify what's causing my funk.
I just have to keep moving forward. I have to learn how to live life WITHOUT a SCAPEGOAT.
I am planning on beating this. On overcoming this obstacle to my success. On learning how to take two steps forward without having to take one step back. On not self-sabotaging. On forgetting all about SCAPEGOATS.
I plan to accomplish this one mile at a time...
Nothing has changed...except that, in addition to losing those 55 lbs, I have also lost my dear friend, SCAPEGOAT.
You see, my whole life has been spent trying to deal with the problem of being overweight. So, for as long as I can remember, I have been blaming (consciously or not) all of my problems in life on being overweight. OVERWEIGHT=SCAPEGOAT
As I began my new life this year, exercising and eating more healthy, I was sure that my life was going to change. After all, that's what I was doing--taking control of my health, and therefore, taking control of my life. Those first couple of months were tough, but I was moving forward at a good pace, really disciplining myself, and so happy to finally start seeing results. It was great. It was wonderful. The thrill of hitting that 50 lb mark was awesome...
And then reality started to hit. And has kept on hitting.
You see, losing weight has not changed anything for me. My job is the same. My friends are the same. My social life (or lack thereof) is the same.
The only thing that has changed is that I've eliminated my SCAPEGOAT. I can no longer blame my "problems" on my weight. I've hit a huge stumbling block, because at this point, subconsciously I am thinking "hey, why lose any more weight if it's not going to change anything?" It's not that I want to GAIN back those 55 lbs. HELL NO! It's just that right now, it's not that hard to maintain my weight where I'm at. I'm still overweight, but I am a lot healthier than I used to be. I can work out a few days a week, eat some healthy food, and then have several TREATS or SNACKS, and stay right where I am. That would be very easy. Heck, I've been here for a few months, sitting right around the same weight, in a holding-pattern.
I've tried to mentally break through the wall, but as soon as I start to see success (clothes fit looser, drop another few lbs on the scale), I go out an SABOTAGE myself by eating a bunch of junk, or skipping work-outs.
WHY??? Why do I do this to myself???
Because...I'm afraid. I don't know how to live without a SCAPEGOAT. So, if I were to be successful, keep losing weight, and finally get to my SKINNY weight...then what? What happens THEN when I'm still working the same job, still have the same friends, and still have the same social life (or lack thereof)?
What happens when I'm SKINNY and NOTHING has CHANGED???
That's my block. That's the funk that I'm in. That's the wall that I need to break through. That's my new hurdle.
I don't have the answers. At least, with the help of my BFF, I've finally been able to identify what's causing my funk.
I just have to keep moving forward. I have to learn how to live life WITHOUT a SCAPEGOAT.
I am planning on beating this. On overcoming this obstacle to my success. On learning how to take two steps forward without having to take one step back. On not self-sabotaging. On forgetting all about SCAPEGOATS.
I plan to accomplish this one mile at a time...
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