I admit it. I hate cold weather. I hate being cold. And mother nature should allow us one, and only one, good dumping of snow. And then it should promptly go back to being 65-70 degrees. It's snowing today. And it's October. October is not for snow. October is for sweaters being pulled out of storage, and leaves turning the most brilliant oranges and reds you could imagine. But no, it's definitely snowing today.
There is something about taking a walk in snow. There is some magical quality to it. Even now, as I'm back home in my mostly warm apartment, defrosting my icy digits, I have a subtle smile on my face.
There is something about taking a walk in snow that takes me back to my childhood. As a youngster, I loved playing in snow. And for me, sledding was not hurling down a hill as fast as a toboggan could carry me. Sledding was being pulled behind a 4-wheeler by my dad. I, of course, was the child who would tip the sled from side to side, almost to the point I would topple over the side, but never quite going over. And then my brother would ultimately let go of my sled, and I would go careening through the snow, bounce back up, and demand to do it again.
There is something about taking a walk in the snow that makes me want to tip my face upward, and let the snow smack me in the face. And spread my arms and twirl until I'm so dizzy I immediately fall over. It makes me not want to take life so seriously.
It makes me have a sweet smile on my face, one that invites cute, old men to tip their hats to me, and say good day to you. And makes me say good day to you right back.
It makes me think of sitting in my parents living room, with the fire roaring, in my plaid old man pajamas, drinking hot cider, eat apple crumble, while reading a book. Of snow days as a child, where you stayed up late the night before, measuring how much snow had already fallen, begging your parents to stay up late because they MUST cancel school the next day. Then waking up to find that it wasn't just a dream. You got an extra day away from classes, and had no responsibilities, and could laugh, and play, and nap without guilt. Because you got a snow day.
The one thing I do love about cold weather...the one and only thing...is the magical quality of snow.
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Weight Waiting
I had a goal. A goal that I am going to fail miserably at. For now. My goal was to cross the finish line at IMAZ weighing 150 pounds. You may not have seen me lately, but those that have will tell you I am no where close to that goal. And now that we are *gulp* 25 days away from the start line, my goal is impossible to attain. And at some point, I accepted that it was more healthy (and reasonable) for me to stop attempting to lose weight, and fuel my body properly for Ironman training instead.
It's not like the inability to lose weight while training for an Ironman is a new concept for me. It's something I've heard many, many times before (thanks Mary!). The general consensus is that if you want to lose weight, do it before you start the build cycles for Ironman. So, I went straight to Ironman training from marathon training, and though it's not as impossible, it's still not the easiest thing to lose weight while marathon training. And I realized earlier today that for the past 2 years I've been doing a lot of long distance training, or I've been sick for 2 months and laying on the couch doing absolutely nothing. Not a great combination. And I've definitely been more focused (I said more, not completely) on training my body than about that pesky little (or not so little) number on the scale. And since Ironman training, I've been waiting to be able to lose more weight.
So, where to go from here? Well, I've been frustrated and cranky lately...for a multitude of reasons, but the main one being that I haven't been able to work out as much because I'm supposed to rest my swollen tendons so I can be healthy for the start line. And now taper is starting. And at last check, I have no longer been able to maintain the weight that I have been holding steady at for the past 4-5 months. So there is a new goal to work toward! Goals are good. Plans are good. I can work with this.
Post Arizona, I probably have until...March-ish where I'm not going to be focusing on long distance stuff. At least that's the month I have in mind for Ironman build to start up again (it might be April). That's a good 4-5 months "off." As I've said in previous posts, I have a few winter goals to accomplish, and one of them is losing those pesky extra pounds. I have no intention of becoming a waif, and at one point in my life, said that if I ever weighed less than 150 pounds, I would immediately eat a massive burger, and that's still a fairly accurate statement. And I think I'm fairly safe in this statement. If you've paid any attention whatsoever to my bone structure (because I know it's the cat's meow to look at) I'll never even be able to be as thin as *enter the name of current anorexic looking celebrity*. I want to look like a normal human being.
So, what am I going to do about it? I re-joined Weight Watchers today. I know, we're still before IMAZ. And the goal is not to go crazy trying to lose a ton of weight in the next 25 days. If I lose the 3ish that I've gained in the past couple of weeks, I'll be ok. And then after AZ, really kick things up and make a more concentrated effort on actually losing weight, while attempting to maintain a fraction of the muscle that I've gained in the past 6 months.
Personally, I'm a big fan of Weight Watchers. It's worked for me in the past. It helped take me from this:
to what we see today, which is this (please for give the fact that I look like a hot mess, I need to do laundry):
Huge difference between the 2. I know. Most probably wouldn't even think that they're the same person. And in some respects, they aren't. Some may look at the bottom photo and think that I look just fine, especially compared to where I've been. But I don't want to look just fine...I want to look fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine. Sorry...I had to do it :) But it's not for anyone else that I want to do this. It's for me, my health, my speed, and the fact that I'm going to have to buy a new wardrobe anyway, it might as well be a smaller size.
So, over the next few months, I'll keep you updated on the progress. Not that that will be all I talk about...because I have way more than that running through my head, but it will help keep me honest, and help keep me motivated. And if you see me with cookie in hand, I give you permission to take it away from me. I may not be able to promise you'll come back with all of your fingers. But know at the end of the day, I will be grateful for your effort.
It's not like the inability to lose weight while training for an Ironman is a new concept for me. It's something I've heard many, many times before (thanks Mary!). The general consensus is that if you want to lose weight, do it before you start the build cycles for Ironman. So, I went straight to Ironman training from marathon training, and though it's not as impossible, it's still not the easiest thing to lose weight while marathon training. And I realized earlier today that for the past 2 years I've been doing a lot of long distance training, or I've been sick for 2 months and laying on the couch doing absolutely nothing. Not a great combination. And I've definitely been more focused (I said more, not completely) on training my body than about that pesky little (or not so little) number on the scale. And since Ironman training, I've been waiting to be able to lose more weight.
So, where to go from here? Well, I've been frustrated and cranky lately...for a multitude of reasons, but the main one being that I haven't been able to work out as much because I'm supposed to rest my swollen tendons so I can be healthy for the start line. And now taper is starting. And at last check, I have no longer been able to maintain the weight that I have been holding steady at for the past 4-5 months. So there is a new goal to work toward! Goals are good. Plans are good. I can work with this.
Post Arizona, I probably have until...March-ish where I'm not going to be focusing on long distance stuff. At least that's the month I have in mind for Ironman build to start up again (it might be April). That's a good 4-5 months "off." As I've said in previous posts, I have a few winter goals to accomplish, and one of them is losing those pesky extra pounds. I have no intention of becoming a waif, and at one point in my life, said that if I ever weighed less than 150 pounds, I would immediately eat a massive burger, and that's still a fairly accurate statement. And I think I'm fairly safe in this statement. If you've paid any attention whatsoever to my bone structure (because I know it's the cat's meow to look at) I'll never even be able to be as thin as *enter the name of current anorexic looking celebrity*. I want to look like a normal human being.
So, what am I going to do about it? I re-joined Weight Watchers today. I know, we're still before IMAZ. And the goal is not to go crazy trying to lose a ton of weight in the next 25 days. If I lose the 3ish that I've gained in the past couple of weeks, I'll be ok. And then after AZ, really kick things up and make a more concentrated effort on actually losing weight, while attempting to maintain a fraction of the muscle that I've gained in the past 6 months.
Personally, I'm a big fan of Weight Watchers. It's worked for me in the past. It helped take me from this:
So, over the next few months, I'll keep you updated on the progress. Not that that will be all I talk about...because I have way more than that running through my head, but it will help keep me honest, and help keep me motivated. And if you see me with cookie in hand, I give you permission to take it away from me. I may not be able to promise you'll come back with all of your fingers. But know at the end of the day, I will be grateful for your effort.
Friday, October 21, 2011
The 30 Day Countdown
It's officially begun. 30 days until Ironman Arizona. It's getting close. And I have no idea how to pack for 3 weeks, in which I will be attending a wedding, hanging out with family in multiple locations, completing an Ironman, and working. Yeah...the Ironman is going to be my "rest day."
So instead of packing, or thinking about packing, or anything resembling the word packing...let's discuss a few other points.
Taking a deep breathe.
I am grateful for every day that I am able to take a deep breathe. There have been far too many days in my life that I have not been able to, including very recently. Trying to ride your bike while not being able to take more than a shallow breathe moves into the category of dangerous. Yet I did it. And then promptly made an appointment to visit my asthma Dr. Numbers normally make me feel better. Having very concise directions also help. So...numbers: My lung capacity is at 128% of normal, my large airway capacity is at 120%, and my small airway capacity is at 95% of normal. Yet I have been having some serious issues breathing lately. It's not really the capacity that causes asthma, though it typically helps, it's something in the airways themselves (or something very technical-ish like that). So they put me on more medicine to help clear things up. It's definitely been helping. I've been ridiculously jittery. But I can breathe. At the moment, it's a trade off I'm willing to accept.
I have bad balance.
You can pick your jaw up off the floor, because I'm sure you're all shocked that a klutz such as me would have poor balance. But that's what the Physical Therapist told me. So...let's take a step back, so we can have a better understanding of this topic. I did not grow up an athlete. In fact, I wouldn't have even considered myself an athlete until less than 3 years ago when I started running. So let's just say the knowledge behind being an athlete was also not there. And I've learned a lot. I could talk bike components until I'm blue in the face. Nutrition? I'm pretty much there. The fact that there are about a million ways to incorrectly train the muscles in your body and only a very select few that actually work...well...NOW I know. So, long story short, there are many things to work on. Many things that have resulted in my knees being in pain. And that I can work around until AZ, and then seriously fix after.
Winter.
I hate winter. I hate being cold. And I'm almost as much of a wuss when it comes to being cold as Ed. But I'm really excited about this winter. 3 winters ago, I just started running. And for the past 2 winters, I have trained for a marathon, then directly into triathlon season with no break. Well...this year...I get one! I'm not running an early year marathon...so I get to focus on something else than running 20 miles in 25 degree weather. Woohoo! And I'm already creating a list of stuff to do.
So instead of packing, or thinking about packing, or anything resembling the word packing...let's discuss a few other points.
Taking a deep breathe.
I am grateful for every day that I am able to take a deep breathe. There have been far too many days in my life that I have not been able to, including very recently. Trying to ride your bike while not being able to take more than a shallow breathe moves into the category of dangerous. Yet I did it. And then promptly made an appointment to visit my asthma Dr. Numbers normally make me feel better. Having very concise directions also help. So...numbers: My lung capacity is at 128% of normal, my large airway capacity is at 120%, and my small airway capacity is at 95% of normal. Yet I have been having some serious issues breathing lately. It's not really the capacity that causes asthma, though it typically helps, it's something in the airways themselves (or something very technical-ish like that). So they put me on more medicine to help clear things up. It's definitely been helping. I've been ridiculously jittery. But I can breathe. At the moment, it's a trade off I'm willing to accept.
I have bad balance.
You can pick your jaw up off the floor, because I'm sure you're all shocked that a klutz such as me would have poor balance. But that's what the Physical Therapist told me. So...let's take a step back, so we can have a better understanding of this topic. I did not grow up an athlete. In fact, I wouldn't have even considered myself an athlete until less than 3 years ago when I started running. So let's just say the knowledge behind being an athlete was also not there. And I've learned a lot. I could talk bike components until I'm blue in the face. Nutrition? I'm pretty much there. The fact that there are about a million ways to incorrectly train the muscles in your body and only a very select few that actually work...well...NOW I know. So, long story short, there are many things to work on. Many things that have resulted in my knees being in pain. And that I can work around until AZ, and then seriously fix after.
Winter.
I hate winter. I hate being cold. And I'm almost as much of a wuss when it comes to being cold as Ed. But I'm really excited about this winter. 3 winters ago, I just started running. And for the past 2 winters, I have trained for a marathon, then directly into triathlon season with no break. Well...this year...I get one! I'm not running an early year marathon...so I get to focus on something else than running 20 miles in 25 degree weather. Woohoo! And I'm already creating a list of stuff to do.
- Lost the extra 30-35 pounds I didn't get shed before Ironman training kicked in. Ok, so I would really be happy with losing 25 and keeping most of the muscle I currently have.
- Work on swimming. Let's just say, I'm not a natural swimmer. And I need some work.
- Strength training/flexibility. Let's work on those stability muscles! Who knows...maybe this time next year, I won't be such a klutz! Hey...we can all dream...
- Use my holiday bonus to sign up for Cedar Point. Yup. I said it. I'm 99% sure I'm doing it.
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Battered, Bruised and Bloody
I am a klutz. Please, allow me to clarify. I am a HUGE klutz. Not a day goes by where I do not damage my body in some way, shape, or form. Not all klutziness results in major damage, in fact, it rarely does. But I often look at my arms, legs, feet, fingers, or any other body part and ask "huh, where did THAT bruise come from?"
And this week has been no different. Well, maybe different in the fact that my klutziness has been taken to an even higher level. It all started with taking my bike into transition Saturday morning. As I was rolling Cedric through the grass, a stick (a rather large and pointy stick) got caught in my pedals, and I, of course, didn't realize this. This caused a bruise and scratch on the top of my left foot. Not exactly something that I prefer to happen before a "race," but I also knew that it wasn't major enough to cause problems. And it didn't.
Fortunately for my mental well being, I had already went into the weekend as this was just training. But in the back of my head, I really wanted to do well, and at the very least, finish. I didn't. It's not something I'm completely ready to talk about, but long story short, I had to listen to my body, and make the decision that the race on November 20, 2011 was much more important that last weekend. Due to a combination of many insignificant factors, that combined create a significant problem, I had a huge problem. That problem being my knees. And the pain that they were in. They have been getting achy and sore recently, which for most of the time, I wrote off to the fact that I am training for an Ironman, and the general battery that your body goes through. I can't say that anymore. So, for the first time since I've been an athlete, I now have an appointment tomorrow with a Sports Medicine Dr. Growing up, I never imagined that I would have to visit a Sports Medicine Dr, but here I am. And I keep remembering a comment Ed made one of the first times I met him, "It's not *if* you get hurt, it's *when*."
After I got back to the park on Saturday, I noticed I had a nice, purple bruise on the knuckle of my ring finger on my left hand. No clue where it came from. But it's mostly gone away now.
Ice. Pain killers. Repeat.
Let's skip ahead to Tuesday evening. I had to stay late at work for a conference call that left me and a co-worker feeling like we had just went through a war. It was crazy, I was dazed. I was walking out of the metro station, across a brick sidewalk, and caught my toe on a loose brick, and down I went. Landing on the knee that has been in the most pain. I actually find this to be a little fortunate, because it was not, now, both of my knees that were in quite a bit of pain. I hobbled home, refused to cry about it, and then was most upset that it ruined the lovely pedicure I had given myself.
Ice. Pain killers. Repeat.
As I hobbled around my office the next day, my co-workers all showed a great deal of concern for why I was walking around like a 90 year old woman. I explained. Assured them that I was fine. And kept hobbling around. At one point, within minutes of one another, I hit the sore, swollen knee on the underneath side of my desk twice, causing me to whimper and my neighbors to ask if I was ok.
Also, at some point, I realized that I had also scraped the top of my right foot in the fall (matching feet now) and that the dark spot on the back of my left knee was NOT actually residual grease from my bike cleaning, it was, in fact, a bruise as well. Again, no clue where it came from.
Think I've been through enough this week? You would be wrong. As I was making my lunch this morning, I got the bowl of rice I had made out of the microwave. And promptly dropped it. Shattering the bowl, and sending glass shrapnel all over floor. I was barefoot. And now bleeding (but fortunately, not that much).
Ice. Pain Killers. Bandaid. Repeat.
Yes, I do realize that I should be wearing bubble wrap body armor.
I had been doing quite a good job of feeling sorry for myself, and also being incredibly scared about what the issue with my knees actually is. I'm 99% certain it's tendonitis. But I'm not a Dr, so I'm still getting them checked out. But if that is the problem, it is fixable. Comparatively easily. It's not easy for me to just sit still, and it's even more difficult for me to admit that I'm hurt or sick. Combine the 2, and I've been a peach to be around all week. Even though it's recovery week, and I'm hurt, and I had every legitimate reasons to sit on my couch and do nothing, last night, I HAD to do something. So I put on my cycling clothes, and went for an easy spin. My knees were a little sore, but not actually that bad. I made sure to stretch well afterward, and I felt much better afterward. And if anything, I actually think spinning helped my knees. I'm actually able to walk around like a normal human being today.
Still icing. Still taking pain killers. Still repeating.
With Ironman Arizona quickly approaching, I'm starting to get very nervous. I'm nervous about the race, I'm nervous about what my body is going through, and whether or not I'll actually be able to do this, and I'm starting to think past November 20. The 2 weekends before had been amazing highs that I had been relishing in. I had truly enjoyed the 20 mile bike ride over the last recovery weekend, and started to actually realize that riding my bike could be fun. And then finishing my 110 mile bike ride, and running for 2:45 was such a rush, and I was finally starting to feel confident with my preparation. Then it all came crashing down. I think what I've been through in the past 3 weeks is a clear definition of the highs and lows that are often natural with this sport. Some days are truly amazing, and some days, you get your ass handed to you in a sling. You hope for the best, be prepared for the worst, and no matter what, you keep moving forward.
One of the things that I love most about the sport of triathlon is that you don't ever have to look very hard to find amazing stories of inspiration. Today, one story has been a focus more than anything else. It is the story of Chrisse Wellington winning her 4th world championship last weekend. And what a story it is. I won't be able to do it justice, so please read the full story here. Or better yet, visit her blog.
Reading about her injuries, combined with the amazing performance she was able to produce to win Saturday's race, makes my bumps and bruises seem insignificant. But it also gives me an incredible amount of respect, not just for Chrissie and her amazing performance, but also for our minds and bodies. It makes me think that come race day, no matter what obstacle I come across, I will be able to push past it, survive, and finish. In the mean time, I will prepare my body in the best way that I possibly can. Getting plenty of sleep, following Drs orders (whatever they may give me tomorrow) do the training that I can, keep reminding myself to trust the training, and to picture myself crossing the finish line, looking strong and confident on November 20.
And this week has been no different. Well, maybe different in the fact that my klutziness has been taken to an even higher level. It all started with taking my bike into transition Saturday morning. As I was rolling Cedric through the grass, a stick (a rather large and pointy stick) got caught in my pedals, and I, of course, didn't realize this. This caused a bruise and scratch on the top of my left foot. Not exactly something that I prefer to happen before a "race," but I also knew that it wasn't major enough to cause problems. And it didn't.
Fortunately for my mental well being, I had already went into the weekend as this was just training. But in the back of my head, I really wanted to do well, and at the very least, finish. I didn't. It's not something I'm completely ready to talk about, but long story short, I had to listen to my body, and make the decision that the race on November 20, 2011 was much more important that last weekend. Due to a combination of many insignificant factors, that combined create a significant problem, I had a huge problem. That problem being my knees. And the pain that they were in. They have been getting achy and sore recently, which for most of the time, I wrote off to the fact that I am training for an Ironman, and the general battery that your body goes through. I can't say that anymore. So, for the first time since I've been an athlete, I now have an appointment tomorrow with a Sports Medicine Dr. Growing up, I never imagined that I would have to visit a Sports Medicine Dr, but here I am. And I keep remembering a comment Ed made one of the first times I met him, "It's not *if* you get hurt, it's *when*."
After I got back to the park on Saturday, I noticed I had a nice, purple bruise on the knuckle of my ring finger on my left hand. No clue where it came from. But it's mostly gone away now.
Ice. Pain killers. Repeat.
Let's skip ahead to Tuesday evening. I had to stay late at work for a conference call that left me and a co-worker feeling like we had just went through a war. It was crazy, I was dazed. I was walking out of the metro station, across a brick sidewalk, and caught my toe on a loose brick, and down I went. Landing on the knee that has been in the most pain. I actually find this to be a little fortunate, because it was not, now, both of my knees that were in quite a bit of pain. I hobbled home, refused to cry about it, and then was most upset that it ruined the lovely pedicure I had given myself.
Ice. Pain killers. Repeat.
As I hobbled around my office the next day, my co-workers all showed a great deal of concern for why I was walking around like a 90 year old woman. I explained. Assured them that I was fine. And kept hobbling around. At one point, within minutes of one another, I hit the sore, swollen knee on the underneath side of my desk twice, causing me to whimper and my neighbors to ask if I was ok.
Also, at some point, I realized that I had also scraped the top of my right foot in the fall (matching feet now) and that the dark spot on the back of my left knee was NOT actually residual grease from my bike cleaning, it was, in fact, a bruise as well. Again, no clue where it came from.
Think I've been through enough this week? You would be wrong. As I was making my lunch this morning, I got the bowl of rice I had made out of the microwave. And promptly dropped it. Shattering the bowl, and sending glass shrapnel all over floor. I was barefoot. And now bleeding (but fortunately, not that much).
Ice. Pain Killers. Bandaid. Repeat.
Yes, I do realize that I should be wearing bubble wrap body armor.
I had been doing quite a good job of feeling sorry for myself, and also being incredibly scared about what the issue with my knees actually is. I'm 99% certain it's tendonitis. But I'm not a Dr, so I'm still getting them checked out. But if that is the problem, it is fixable. Comparatively easily. It's not easy for me to just sit still, and it's even more difficult for me to admit that I'm hurt or sick. Combine the 2, and I've been a peach to be around all week. Even though it's recovery week, and I'm hurt, and I had every legitimate reasons to sit on my couch and do nothing, last night, I HAD to do something. So I put on my cycling clothes, and went for an easy spin. My knees were a little sore, but not actually that bad. I made sure to stretch well afterward, and I felt much better afterward. And if anything, I actually think spinning helped my knees. I'm actually able to walk around like a normal human being today.
Still icing. Still taking pain killers. Still repeating.
With Ironman Arizona quickly approaching, I'm starting to get very nervous. I'm nervous about the race, I'm nervous about what my body is going through, and whether or not I'll actually be able to do this, and I'm starting to think past November 20. The 2 weekends before had been amazing highs that I had been relishing in. I had truly enjoyed the 20 mile bike ride over the last recovery weekend, and started to actually realize that riding my bike could be fun. And then finishing my 110 mile bike ride, and running for 2:45 was such a rush, and I was finally starting to feel confident with my preparation. Then it all came crashing down. I think what I've been through in the past 3 weeks is a clear definition of the highs and lows that are often natural with this sport. Some days are truly amazing, and some days, you get your ass handed to you in a sling. You hope for the best, be prepared for the worst, and no matter what, you keep moving forward.
One of the things that I love most about the sport of triathlon is that you don't ever have to look very hard to find amazing stories of inspiration. Today, one story has been a focus more than anything else. It is the story of Chrisse Wellington winning her 4th world championship last weekend. And what a story it is. I won't be able to do it justice, so please read the full story here. Or better yet, visit her blog.
Reading about her injuries, combined with the amazing performance she was able to produce to win Saturday's race, makes my bumps and bruises seem insignificant. But it also gives me an incredible amount of respect, not just for Chrissie and her amazing performance, but also for our minds and bodies. It makes me think that come race day, no matter what obstacle I come across, I will be able to push past it, survive, and finish. In the mean time, I will prepare my body in the best way that I possibly can. Getting plenty of sleep, following Drs orders (whatever they may give me tomorrow) do the training that I can, keep reminding myself to trust the training, and to picture myself crossing the finish line, looking strong and confident on November 20.
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
8 Years From Now...
8 years from now, when I get married. Not an uncommon statement for me to make. So, first, a little background into where this came from. About 6 years ago, maybe a little more, I had just gotten out of a horrible long term relationship. And of course, I was helping several of my close friends plan their weddings. With nothing in my personal life to look forward to, and the typical wedding talk about what you would want in your own wedding (as girls tend to do), I began using the statement "well, 8 years from now when I get married, I would do...this."
One point to note, even though this started 6 years ago, I still say "8 years from now..." The time frame never decreases. Marriage is always 8 years away. (And because most of those couples now have children...children are now 12 years away)
So, what, one might ask, is on the list? Well...I, of course, am not planning my wedding. Nor do I have someone to plan it with...so I don't have a lot of specifics about what my wedding day will actually look like...8 years from now. I do, however, have a list of stuff that I don't want.
I don't know what it has been lately...perhaps with everything else on my plate lately...I figure why not add one more. But I've been thinking a lot about planning a wedding. It's been a while since I've had to help a friend plan one. And at this point, most of my friends already are married. So I guess the next one to plan will probably be my own. And besides...weddings are fun...right? And I probably have planned enough that I could plan my own in my sleep. (Please remind me of this statement 8 years from now when I actually am planning my wedding, and I'm so stressed out that I want to pull my hair out.) Don't worry...to any potential mates out there possibly reading this...I am not so eager to get married right now that I'll hit you over the head with a frying pan and drag you to the justice of the peace and force you to marry me. I do still realize it requires a little more effort than that. And that it won't happen with just anyone. I'm not THAT girl :)
So...8 years from now...
One point to note, even though this started 6 years ago, I still say "8 years from now..." The time frame never decreases. Marriage is always 8 years away. (And because most of those couples now have children...children are now 12 years away)
So, what, one might ask, is on the list? Well...I, of course, am not planning my wedding. Nor do I have someone to plan it with...so I don't have a lot of specifics about what my wedding day will actually look like...8 years from now. I do, however, have a list of stuff that I don't want.
- I will not wear a poofy dress. Just...no. I would look ridiculous.
- I do not want a huge wedding where I invite every single person I've ever met to attend and feel obligated to buy a gift. I would much rather have the people that really matter there.
- I do not want the words "Shooting Complex" to appear on my wedding invitations. I don't care how nice of a banquet center it is. No thank you.
- I also do not want to host my wedding at a Sleep Inn. I believe my bff said it best. "Ew."
I don't know what it has been lately...perhaps with everything else on my plate lately...I figure why not add one more. But I've been thinking a lot about planning a wedding. It's been a while since I've had to help a friend plan one. And at this point, most of my friends already are married. So I guess the next one to plan will probably be my own. And besides...weddings are fun...right? And I probably have planned enough that I could plan my own in my sleep. (Please remind me of this statement 8 years from now when I actually am planning my wedding, and I'm so stressed out that I want to pull my hair out.) Don't worry...to any potential mates out there possibly reading this...I am not so eager to get married right now that I'll hit you over the head with a frying pan and drag you to the justice of the peace and force you to marry me. I do still realize it requires a little more effort than that. And that it won't happen with just anyone. I'm not THAT girl :)
So...8 years from now...
Friday, October 7, 2011
Clicking "Submit"
Yesterday morning, I decided it was now or never. I found the correct website. Entered all of the pertinent information. Gave them my credit card number, and my hand shakily hovered about the mouse of my computer, as I agreed to whatever requirements they might have (which I often believe may include signing away the life of your future children to some unknown lord among men from a country never heard from before, and no one would ever realize it...because who actually reads those things?) and I clicked submit. Error! Oh...why, yes, I am left handed. Submit. Confirmation page.
I sat there for a moment, thinking about what I had just done, what I had just signed up for. My hands were shaking. My heart was palpitating. And I couldn't sit still.
But, unlike normal, I honestly did not have the "I'm crazy, and this is a really bad idea" thought like I normally do in situations like this. Perhaps, it's because I didn't sign up for a race this time. What I am now at the beginning of is a journey and test of endurance like none I've ever encountered before. Yes, still not a race. I signed up to take the LSAT exam on December 3.
As with most things in my life, this was not done on a whim. Much thought had already been put into signing up. And I've already started preparing to take it. But there is that hollow, shaking feeling in the pit of your stomach when you actually have a date, time and location. But, to me, I have a goal date. Must be completed by: date. As with endurance sports, having that date is paramount. It's something to look forward to, it's a goal that must be reached. You must do the preparation to get across the finish line. The point that I've already been enjoying studying for it makes it easier to think that I'm going to stick with it. Who would have ever thought that one could be more excited to pick up an LSAT prep book, and read about deciphering logic problems than a novel. Well...I guess I'm just a nerd like that.
This action has come toward the end of a week when I have been thinking a lot about action. Doing something. Getting off the couch and participating in life as opposed to just talking about doing something. Don't get me wrong, I have been just as bad in the past about constantly talking about doing something, but then no action is ever taken. But really, in looking at things, it's been a while since I can recall something like that. I like action. I like talking about doing things, but I like actually doing them better. I understand that life circumstances sometimes get in the way, I've had a few goals of mine derailed this year because of that. But I know that at some point, I will make them happen, one way or another.
One of the things that has spawned such thoughts this week is thinking about a couple of friends of mine. One who constantly talks about doing things. One of those "I'm going to do this with you" types. And guess what? We never have done any of those things. There's been a long list. Berry picking, or a party at an embassy, just to name a couple. And beyond that, he's also one to talk about personal goals, would set them, then never accomplish them. And, as a friend, it's frustrating to sit by and watch something like that happening. Perhaps that's one of the reasons we are no longer as close as we once were. The other friend I mentioned is relatively new in my life, so I'm not sure if this pattern is there or not. But I started to see a couple of things. In an effort to communicate better, I told him what my annoyance was. It didn't go over so well (I think my point went over his head a bit). But if these things never happen, then what is the point of talking about them in the first place???
Maybe, as I get older, I have realized that I need to do something with my life. Make my life meaningful. Spend time with the people that really matter to me. Have fun, and enjoy life. Maybe part of what has made me have such strong feelings has been the surreal fact that I'm in the middle of accomplishing one of my life long goals. And I don't want other people to miss out on the possibility of doing something that would be equally as amazing to them.
So...next time you think about doing something, or talk about doing something...I urge you...DO IT!! You won't be sorry.
I sat there for a moment, thinking about what I had just done, what I had just signed up for. My hands were shaking. My heart was palpitating. And I couldn't sit still.
But, unlike normal, I honestly did not have the "I'm crazy, and this is a really bad idea" thought like I normally do in situations like this. Perhaps, it's because I didn't sign up for a race this time. What I am now at the beginning of is a journey and test of endurance like none I've ever encountered before. Yes, still not a race. I signed up to take the LSAT exam on December 3.
As with most things in my life, this was not done on a whim. Much thought had already been put into signing up. And I've already started preparing to take it. But there is that hollow, shaking feeling in the pit of your stomach when you actually have a date, time and location. But, to me, I have a goal date. Must be completed by: date. As with endurance sports, having that date is paramount. It's something to look forward to, it's a goal that must be reached. You must do the preparation to get across the finish line. The point that I've already been enjoying studying for it makes it easier to think that I'm going to stick with it. Who would have ever thought that one could be more excited to pick up an LSAT prep book, and read about deciphering logic problems than a novel. Well...I guess I'm just a nerd like that.
This action has come toward the end of a week when I have been thinking a lot about action. Doing something. Getting off the couch and participating in life as opposed to just talking about doing something. Don't get me wrong, I have been just as bad in the past about constantly talking about doing something, but then no action is ever taken. But really, in looking at things, it's been a while since I can recall something like that. I like action. I like talking about doing things, but I like actually doing them better. I understand that life circumstances sometimes get in the way, I've had a few goals of mine derailed this year because of that. But I know that at some point, I will make them happen, one way or another.
One of the things that has spawned such thoughts this week is thinking about a couple of friends of mine. One who constantly talks about doing things. One of those "I'm going to do this with you" types. And guess what? We never have done any of those things. There's been a long list. Berry picking, or a party at an embassy, just to name a couple. And beyond that, he's also one to talk about personal goals, would set them, then never accomplish them. And, as a friend, it's frustrating to sit by and watch something like that happening. Perhaps that's one of the reasons we are no longer as close as we once were. The other friend I mentioned is relatively new in my life, so I'm not sure if this pattern is there or not. But I started to see a couple of things. In an effort to communicate better, I told him what my annoyance was. It didn't go over so well (I think my point went over his head a bit). But if these things never happen, then what is the point of talking about them in the first place???
Maybe, as I get older, I have realized that I need to do something with my life. Make my life meaningful. Spend time with the people that really matter to me. Have fun, and enjoy life. Maybe part of what has made me have such strong feelings has been the surreal fact that I'm in the middle of accomplishing one of my life long goals. And I don't want other people to miss out on the possibility of doing something that would be equally as amazing to them.
So...next time you think about doing something, or talk about doing something...I urge you...DO IT!! You won't be sorry.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
I'm having a week
I'm not having a bad week, though I'm not having a particularly bad week either. Which after the stress that the past couple of weeks, and the highs of last weekend, I'm ok with where the week is sitting for me. And for some reason, I often find times like this most hard to write about. But I'm willing to give it a try. Sometimes bullet/number lists are easier...so here goes.
1) Though I'm not having a bad week, people around me are. I'm kept apprised of the situation. But I'm not being asked to do anything. Which can be both frustrating, and, at the same time, relieving.
2) I'm studying for the LSAT. News to, probably, most people. I haven't talked about it with too many people, mainly because it's one of those things that may, at the end of the day, week, month, year not end up working out. But there it is. I want to go to Law School. I have since I was a kid, but for a long time, I didn't think I had it in me to do well. But it's never too late to try, so, hopefully a year from now, I will just be starting a brand new adventure in my life. And this is also the number one reason I can't decide about what to train for next year. IF I do an Iron distance race next year, it would be Cedar Point, there is no question there. But it's also in the middle of September, which would be directly after I would start school (hopefully). And though I have an idea of where I would end up, I'm not 100% sure of where that is going to be yet. So I can't decide what to do.
3) We are now under 50 days until Ironman Arizona. I don't know the specific number of days, mainly because knowing the specific number of days freaks me out a little. So if you know, please don't tell me. Unless I specifically ask :) But after this past weekends training, I started feeling like this whole thing *might* actually be possible. And it also had me feeling like there is still a ton that I need to do yet. Fortunately, I tend to be OCD about making lists, and I also have friends that have already done at least one Ironman...and they, too, are uber organized. And they're willing to share, and help me out. So, starting early, making lists, all helps me put things in perspective, and gives me focus, instead of floundering about for what to do. This, I can do.
4) I'm not sure what else to add here. Training is going ok. I can walk just fine after the torture I put my body through last weekend. I'm looking forward to the torture I'm going to be putting my body through this coming weekend. And all in all, things are going ok. Weird...
1) Though I'm not having a bad week, people around me are. I'm kept apprised of the situation. But I'm not being asked to do anything. Which can be both frustrating, and, at the same time, relieving.
2) I'm studying for the LSAT. News to, probably, most people. I haven't talked about it with too many people, mainly because it's one of those things that may, at the end of the day, week, month, year not end up working out. But there it is. I want to go to Law School. I have since I was a kid, but for a long time, I didn't think I had it in me to do well. But it's never too late to try, so, hopefully a year from now, I will just be starting a brand new adventure in my life. And this is also the number one reason I can't decide about what to train for next year. IF I do an Iron distance race next year, it would be Cedar Point, there is no question there. But it's also in the middle of September, which would be directly after I would start school (hopefully). And though I have an idea of where I would end up, I'm not 100% sure of where that is going to be yet. So I can't decide what to do.
3) We are now under 50 days until Ironman Arizona. I don't know the specific number of days, mainly because knowing the specific number of days freaks me out a little. So if you know, please don't tell me. Unless I specifically ask :) But after this past weekends training, I started feeling like this whole thing *might* actually be possible. And it also had me feeling like there is still a ton that I need to do yet. Fortunately, I tend to be OCD about making lists, and I also have friends that have already done at least one Ironman...and they, too, are uber organized. And they're willing to share, and help me out. So, starting early, making lists, all helps me put things in perspective, and gives me focus, instead of floundering about for what to do. This, I can do.
4) I'm not sure what else to add here. Training is going ok. I can walk just fine after the torture I put my body through last weekend. I'm looking forward to the torture I'm going to be putting my body through this coming weekend. And all in all, things are going ok. Weird...
Sunday, October 2, 2011
How an Ironman in Training Celebrates Turning 30
As I sit here on my couch, with my legs propped up, I have a moment to reflect on how perfect this weekends activities could not have been more perfect of a celebration.
I suppose the celebration started on Thursday evening, with swimming 2 miles for the first time. I had went into the swim planning on swimming at least 2000m, because that's what I had swam on Tuesday, and it felt really good. I get into the swim, and it just felt amazing. So I decide to go for my longest swim ever. Previously, my longest swim had been 2400m, so I was going to go for 2500. I know...what a way to blow out a record swim distance. But I get to 2350, and I'm feeling really good. And I start having a thought about hitting 2 miles. And I'm not sure if I can do it or not. But I was feeling really good, so I went for it. I cramped a little...but I finished, and it felt great.
Then it was on to dinner with friends, and proceeded to have a fantastic time.
I took Friday off work because I really wanted to clean my apartment, and do laundry, and sleep in and drink coffee and read. Well...I slept in, I drank coffee, and I did laundry, and watched TV. And I slept some more. So I didn't get nearly as much accomplished as I had hoped, but I think the rest was much needed. And then the evening was finished with dinner with some amazing friends, who were so gracious to work my training schedule into celebrating. I got to bed relatively early, all in preparation for the next days training activities.
So I wake up early on Saturday morning. Sleepily pack my gear, and get it loaded into my rental car. I started driving off to Easton. Though barely awake, I didn't get lost...which is excellent. I get ready to start riding, and am actually looking forward to riding 110 miles. I know, I'm crazy. The first 50 miles are great, fantastic, amazing. I, somehow, now love riding my bike. It was wrought with wind, and lots of time spent in aero...but it was truly a lot of fun. To say the least of a brief stop at mile 40 that was most memorable for both Misha and I. But I felt better, and continued my ride :) I stop back in the parking lot at mile 50, and refuel, and head back out for 60 more miles. Almost immediately, we were hit with a hellacious, demoralizing headwind that pretty much made all of the enjoyment I was experiencing go away. And I was pissed (there is no other better description for how I felt). More that the wind ruined the lovely bike ride I was having. I get to the turn around, finally, after several moments of having to talk myself into moving forward. So I take a moment to not be moving forward, but not too long. I start back up with Tracy, and we're moving along just fine. But after a couple of more miles, I started hurting. A lot. And I forgot my Tylenol at home. Did I mention I was half asleep as I was packing my gear? So I keep moving forward, but I've slowed waaaaaaaaaaaaay down. And fortunately Matt came up behind me at mile 85. Asked how I was doing, and suggested I get off and stretch, so I do. And eat an energy bar. And get back on my bike and keep moving forward. I request a brief stop at the Shell station...and again, we keep moving forward. I'm so glad Matt stuck with me. I might have been able to finish the entire thing without him, but he definitely made it a LOT easier. So I get back to the parking lot. And immediately ask for pain killers, and AJ hands me a bottle of Tylenol. Again, not wanting to wait too long, I head back out for those last 10 miles. And after having to wind around a side neighborhood, and the Target parking lot...my bike computer FINALLY read 110.04 miles. It's about damn time. But I finished with a HUGE smile on my face, and sheer amazement at what I had just accomplished.
And the adrenaline kicks in. And we're all bouncing off the walls. So we head over to Chick-Fil-A for some post ride grub...and we didn't completely pig out (this phenomenon will be discussed a bit later). But we did have a good time enjoying our adrenaline high. Though I'm quite surprised that some of the families surrounding us didn't request that we leave, or turn down the volume.
I totally crashed from my adrenaline high on the way home, and looking back, I'm surprised I made it. I take a quick ice bath. Choke down a bit of dinner, watch 20 minutes of TV, just so I can attempt to feel like a normal human being, and crash.
So this morning, I was scheduled for another early wake up call, where I could once again, drive over an hour to run 2 hours and 45 minutes. So off to Gunston I go. I've been using my phone for navigation lately, and it hasn't failed me yet. But never underestimate Johanna's ability to get lost. So, GPS tells me to get off at exit 166-A. I, for some reason get off at exit 166-B. And I realize immediately that this is definitely not right. So I try to get off on the first exit ramp. And wind up in some secure government facility. Fortunately, the very nice security guard didn't drag me out of my car and arrest me. He pulled over, flashed his lights, and asked where I was trying to go. I tell him my error, he politely tells me where I was (without telling me WHICH secure government facility I was at) and how to get back to where I needed to be. He follows me out, and I hope that this isn't an indicator of how the day is going to go.
I finally make it to Gunston (without any further detours) and get ready to run. There aren't as many people as I was expecting, and no one that runs my pace. So I start running, and it's not feeling so good. I take a couple of brief walk breaks, and walking feels ok...but I'm definitely not feeling so good while running. I'm getting woozy, and just want to curl up and sleep. Oh, and at this point, it starts raining, and I'm so cold I'm shivering. So I run...walk...walk...walk...run a bit more...and then start walking. I tried my hardest to keep running...but I started taking a self inventory of what's going on. Am I feeling sorry for myself? Not really...I wish I had someone to run with, but I'm not sure that would fix the situation...but it's possible it could have distracted me for a little while longer. So then I recall a "run" I had a couple of years ago...my 20 mile run for my first marathon. I'd had a rough bout of insomnia the night before, and I got the mileage in, but there was a lot of walking. And I realize that's exactly how I felt this morning. Except this time, I actually slept between 7-8 hours. So, I'm going with my body is just exhausted right now. But I kept moving forward. Jordan finally caught up to me, and told me he had an extra jacket in his car, and to head back to meet him there so I could wear that. I also choke down an energy bar. And catch up to Tracy in her pace setting walk. We make another loop...and get to see everyone else running. The warmth, the food in my stomach, and the company definitely helped. But I'm certain I'm stubborn enough I would have gotten the miles in even if I hadn't had all of those things. So the day ended with a total of 12 miles between walking and running. Yes, my legs currently hate me :)
One of the things that I've been thinking about lately is what IMAZ is going to be like. Well...not so much the actual day, per se. But what the possibilities of that day are. It is bound to be the most grueling day of my life. And also, hopefully one of the best. But there are a lot of possibilities of what can happen. Within the past week, I'm finally starting to feel like this whole thing *might* actually be possible. I know (from past experience) that I can come back from a horrible asthma attack, and continue moving forward. And also, because of that day, I know just about the worst thing that can happen in a race...but more importantly, I know that I can move past it. I know that I can ride 110 miles. And that if worst comes to worst, I can continue walking the marathon. My inner Ironman is starting to feel happy.
Ok, so now time to talk about this weird phenomenon that's been happening lately. I love food. I really, really love food. We all know this, right? Over the past couple of weeks, I've noticed that I just don't want to eat much of anything. Ever. I do eat, because I know I need the fuel. But I really don't want to. I thought it might be stress induced, but now I'm not so sure. Coffee hasn't tasted that great to me, and both yesterday and today, I didn't even finish the coffee that I made. I ate french fries yesterday at Chick-Fil-A, and they tasted great. But I had to choke down a piece of chicken last night. Literally, it grossed me out. Breakfast this morning was the same way. I forced myself to eat eggs...which I normally love. The energy bar I ate in the middle of my walk this morning...I literally almost spat it out. Again, post run, I eat one serving of french fries...and they taste great. So I eat some more. But when Ed got done grilling the meat...I was on board...thinking that the tide had turned. I could not have been more wrong. I eat a bit of chorizo. And then look down at the chicken left on my plate. I take one bite. And I'm done. I couldn't even look at it. This afternoon, I even told my mom that the mere thought of eating a cookie or a cupcake disgusted me. She got worried. I love cookies and cupcakes. And even now, I know that my stomach is hungry, and that I need to eat, because I haven't done so since around noon today. But I'm grossed out at the thought. Seriously...WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? I mean, don't get me wrong, my inner anorexic is ecstatic. But this is not so good for the inner Ironman.
My honest guess is that I'm training a ridiculous amount, and my body is thrown off whack. I just hope I get some of my appetite back...eventually. Because...you know...I love food.
So...that's pretty much it. Just a low key, relaxing weekend for the birthday girl. Here's to a great year ahead of me!
I suppose the celebration started on Thursday evening, with swimming 2 miles for the first time. I had went into the swim planning on swimming at least 2000m, because that's what I had swam on Tuesday, and it felt really good. I get into the swim, and it just felt amazing. So I decide to go for my longest swim ever. Previously, my longest swim had been 2400m, so I was going to go for 2500. I know...what a way to blow out a record swim distance. But I get to 2350, and I'm feeling really good. And I start having a thought about hitting 2 miles. And I'm not sure if I can do it or not. But I was feeling really good, so I went for it. I cramped a little...but I finished, and it felt great.
Then it was on to dinner with friends, and proceeded to have a fantastic time.
I took Friday off work because I really wanted to clean my apartment, and do laundry, and sleep in and drink coffee and read. Well...I slept in, I drank coffee, and I did laundry, and watched TV. And I slept some more. So I didn't get nearly as much accomplished as I had hoped, but I think the rest was much needed. And then the evening was finished with dinner with some amazing friends, who were so gracious to work my training schedule into celebrating. I got to bed relatively early, all in preparation for the next days training activities.
So I wake up early on Saturday morning. Sleepily pack my gear, and get it loaded into my rental car. I started driving off to Easton. Though barely awake, I didn't get lost...which is excellent. I get ready to start riding, and am actually looking forward to riding 110 miles. I know, I'm crazy. The first 50 miles are great, fantastic, amazing. I, somehow, now love riding my bike. It was wrought with wind, and lots of time spent in aero...but it was truly a lot of fun. To say the least of a brief stop at mile 40 that was most memorable for both Misha and I. But I felt better, and continued my ride :) I stop back in the parking lot at mile 50, and refuel, and head back out for 60 more miles. Almost immediately, we were hit with a hellacious, demoralizing headwind that pretty much made all of the enjoyment I was experiencing go away. And I was pissed (there is no other better description for how I felt). More that the wind ruined the lovely bike ride I was having. I get to the turn around, finally, after several moments of having to talk myself into moving forward. So I take a moment to not be moving forward, but not too long. I start back up with Tracy, and we're moving along just fine. But after a couple of more miles, I started hurting. A lot. And I forgot my Tylenol at home. Did I mention I was half asleep as I was packing my gear? So I keep moving forward, but I've slowed waaaaaaaaaaaaay down. And fortunately Matt came up behind me at mile 85. Asked how I was doing, and suggested I get off and stretch, so I do. And eat an energy bar. And get back on my bike and keep moving forward. I request a brief stop at the Shell station...and again, we keep moving forward. I'm so glad Matt stuck with me. I might have been able to finish the entire thing without him, but he definitely made it a LOT easier. So I get back to the parking lot. And immediately ask for pain killers, and AJ hands me a bottle of Tylenol. Again, not wanting to wait too long, I head back out for those last 10 miles. And after having to wind around a side neighborhood, and the Target parking lot...my bike computer FINALLY read 110.04 miles. It's about damn time. But I finished with a HUGE smile on my face, and sheer amazement at what I had just accomplished.
And the adrenaline kicks in. And we're all bouncing off the walls. So we head over to Chick-Fil-A for some post ride grub...and we didn't completely pig out (this phenomenon will be discussed a bit later). But we did have a good time enjoying our adrenaline high. Though I'm quite surprised that some of the families surrounding us didn't request that we leave, or turn down the volume.
I totally crashed from my adrenaline high on the way home, and looking back, I'm surprised I made it. I take a quick ice bath. Choke down a bit of dinner, watch 20 minutes of TV, just so I can attempt to feel like a normal human being, and crash.
So this morning, I was scheduled for another early wake up call, where I could once again, drive over an hour to run 2 hours and 45 minutes. So off to Gunston I go. I've been using my phone for navigation lately, and it hasn't failed me yet. But never underestimate Johanna's ability to get lost. So, GPS tells me to get off at exit 166-A. I, for some reason get off at exit 166-B. And I realize immediately that this is definitely not right. So I try to get off on the first exit ramp. And wind up in some secure government facility. Fortunately, the very nice security guard didn't drag me out of my car and arrest me. He pulled over, flashed his lights, and asked where I was trying to go. I tell him my error, he politely tells me where I was (without telling me WHICH secure government facility I was at) and how to get back to where I needed to be. He follows me out, and I hope that this isn't an indicator of how the day is going to go.
I finally make it to Gunston (without any further detours) and get ready to run. There aren't as many people as I was expecting, and no one that runs my pace. So I start running, and it's not feeling so good. I take a couple of brief walk breaks, and walking feels ok...but I'm definitely not feeling so good while running. I'm getting woozy, and just want to curl up and sleep. Oh, and at this point, it starts raining, and I'm so cold I'm shivering. So I run...walk...walk...walk...run a bit more...and then start walking. I tried my hardest to keep running...but I started taking a self inventory of what's going on. Am I feeling sorry for myself? Not really...I wish I had someone to run with, but I'm not sure that would fix the situation...but it's possible it could have distracted me for a little while longer. So then I recall a "run" I had a couple of years ago...my 20 mile run for my first marathon. I'd had a rough bout of insomnia the night before, and I got the mileage in, but there was a lot of walking. And I realize that's exactly how I felt this morning. Except this time, I actually slept between 7-8 hours. So, I'm going with my body is just exhausted right now. But I kept moving forward. Jordan finally caught up to me, and told me he had an extra jacket in his car, and to head back to meet him there so I could wear that. I also choke down an energy bar. And catch up to Tracy in her pace setting walk. We make another loop...and get to see everyone else running. The warmth, the food in my stomach, and the company definitely helped. But I'm certain I'm stubborn enough I would have gotten the miles in even if I hadn't had all of those things. So the day ended with a total of 12 miles between walking and running. Yes, my legs currently hate me :)
One of the things that I've been thinking about lately is what IMAZ is going to be like. Well...not so much the actual day, per se. But what the possibilities of that day are. It is bound to be the most grueling day of my life. And also, hopefully one of the best. But there are a lot of possibilities of what can happen. Within the past week, I'm finally starting to feel like this whole thing *might* actually be possible. I know (from past experience) that I can come back from a horrible asthma attack, and continue moving forward. And also, because of that day, I know just about the worst thing that can happen in a race...but more importantly, I know that I can move past it. I know that I can ride 110 miles. And that if worst comes to worst, I can continue walking the marathon. My inner Ironman is starting to feel happy.
Ok, so now time to talk about this weird phenomenon that's been happening lately. I love food. I really, really love food. We all know this, right? Over the past couple of weeks, I've noticed that I just don't want to eat much of anything. Ever. I do eat, because I know I need the fuel. But I really don't want to. I thought it might be stress induced, but now I'm not so sure. Coffee hasn't tasted that great to me, and both yesterday and today, I didn't even finish the coffee that I made. I ate french fries yesterday at Chick-Fil-A, and they tasted great. But I had to choke down a piece of chicken last night. Literally, it grossed me out. Breakfast this morning was the same way. I forced myself to eat eggs...which I normally love. The energy bar I ate in the middle of my walk this morning...I literally almost spat it out. Again, post run, I eat one serving of french fries...and they taste great. So I eat some more. But when Ed got done grilling the meat...I was on board...thinking that the tide had turned. I could not have been more wrong. I eat a bit of chorizo. And then look down at the chicken left on my plate. I take one bite. And I'm done. I couldn't even look at it. This afternoon, I even told my mom that the mere thought of eating a cookie or a cupcake disgusted me. She got worried. I love cookies and cupcakes. And even now, I know that my stomach is hungry, and that I need to eat, because I haven't done so since around noon today. But I'm grossed out at the thought. Seriously...WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? I mean, don't get me wrong, my inner anorexic is ecstatic. But this is not so good for the inner Ironman.
My honest guess is that I'm training a ridiculous amount, and my body is thrown off whack. I just hope I get some of my appetite back...eventually. Because...you know...I love food.
So...that's pretty much it. Just a low key, relaxing weekend for the birthday girl. Here's to a great year ahead of me!
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