The Story of Me, The Little Folksinger, and a Boy Called Patrick

This month, the folks at #261Fearless asked the Ambassadors to write, blog, and post about the women who inspire us, in honor of Women's History Month.  I am inspired by so many women in my life - bloggers I love, my grandmother's bottomless well of kindness, my mother's inventive problem-solving, my girlfriends' amazing athletic and child-rearing feats. Then there are the women I have learned about - scientists, biblical characters, writers, teachers, athletes, activists, entrepreneurs and even celebrity evangelists!

As I thought about this assignment, I kept coming back to something I wrote on my personal Facebook page years ago.  It shares a bit of my own personal history as well as my connection to an artist who has been influencing and inspiring me since I was really still a teenager.  

What I've written here is, I suppose, a lot more about me than about her.  But she has shaped my life, helped me become who I am.  Her writing continues to help me see the world through a wider lens, one with a sharp focus on equity, MAtriarchy, and empathy.  I love that I have an opportunity to share this connection publicly.  And perhaps some day I'll have an opportunity to thank her personally.

I wrote this post in June 2011.  I've added some links and changed a few names, but left it otherwise unedited.

My recent trip to Buffalo, NY for work allowed me a long-awaited opportunity to visit the headquarters of Righteous Babe Records, the historic building known simply as “The Church” which Ani DiFranco and the RBRrrmy have renovated into business offices, merchandising space, an art gallery and performance venues.  I was graciously offered a tour of the whole facility and the opportunity to thank a couple of the women who work to support an organization that has had a profound influence on my life and my little world.  The trip provided a moment of closure, a long-delayed end to a complicated chapter of my life that started almost 18 years ago.  I wanted to write something to mark the occasion; to say goodbye and let it… go.

The first time I heard Ani’s voice, it was her poem “My I.Q.” on the Puddle Dive album (http://www.righteousbabe.com/ani/puddledive/l_myiq.asp).  It was Fall of 1993.  Nearly 20 years later, I can recite that poem verbatim, right now.  I won’t repeat it here. Too many of you have been forced to listen to it in the wee hours of the morning or in the ladies’ room at weddings or in my car, or… well, you get the idea.  The poem struck a chord in me and woke me up in a way that made me wonder if I had ever really been awake, and certain I had been asleep far too long.  Three minutes later, I heard “Blood in the Boardroom” from the same album (listen at http://www.righteousbabe.com/ani/puddledive/index.asp).  I’d never heard anything before that could be described as both “feminist” and “whimsical” at the same time – it was like being struck by lightning!  In a word, I was hooked.

It was about two months later I learned I was pregnant.  When my son Patrick was born and placed with his new family in the summer of 1994, the grief I experienced was infinitely more profound than I expected.  I was utterly unprepared and I didn’t have the tools to deal with it. 

I credit MANY things and people in my life for helping me learn to live with my decision.  The Hubs and The Brother-In-Law caught the lion’s share of the burden.  They taught me it was OK to laugh and have fun, even when I was feeling sad or angry.  They gave me permission to have joy in my life.  They provided me a “free space” where I could be as bat-shit crazy as was necessary.  They made me feel safe.  Always.  The Hubs's Best Friend, too, put up with my need for a free space – for a while (and he was right to suggest a limit to it).  I owe these men a debt I cannot repay.

I was battling the urge to self-destruct, learning to cope, fighting my way back to myself and this process took years.  During this time I learned this:  the knowledge you made the right choice, that you did the best you could under the circumstances, is not the same as having peace with that choice.  It was sometimes cold comfort in the face of the consequences of my decision.  I believe some wounds never heal.  But with the right help, you might get them to scab over and maybe even stop the itch. 

In the midst of this turmoil, I had my family – including my amazing mom whom I cannot begin to discuss here – my friends, my ambition, my own naked determination to move forward… and when none of these were enough and I felt myself beginning to drown in my own sorrow, I had Ani’s music.  Her records were a life ring in a sea of grief.  They provided a focal point outside myself and I grasped hold of that circle of hope and it allowed me to rest, check out of my life for a while, return to fight when my strength was restored.

In the past 17 years, my relationship with all those who were there for me during that difficult time has deepened and solidified.  Ani, being only a few years older than me, has matured and continued to write songs that closely correlate with my own experiences, opinions and politics.  I believe my perspective has been shaped by her music as much as by anything else in these years.

My son turns 17 years old today.  By all accounts he is healthy, smart, and well-rounded.  He was raised in the same community his whole life.  He has friends he’s known all his life.  His parents were able to provide opportunities and a level of stability I could only dream about in 1994. 

I am reminded again today that I made a decision I can be proud of.

Lies, Damn Lies, No 4

Well Carla has done it again.  I read her post this morning on how she endeavors to instill confidence in her daughter and she asked for comments, saying "what do you believe is one thing adults can do to help preserve girls’ self-esteem?"

I've been meaning to write a blog post.  My last post isn't what I really want on my home page.  This new post was going to be about some small changes I've implemented in my routine recently.  I've also been noodling on a post about 2016 goals (what with the new year looming, who isn't?)

So clearly it was time for a new post.  My attempt at a short comment in response to Carla's question, turned into THIS:

I once tried out for little league baseball.  My brothers were both super athletic and loved it, and one summer I thought maybe I'd give it a shot.  At tryouts (I didn't know then but I do now... there's no being "cut" from the team, you just get put in different leagues or on different teams based on your ability.)(As an adult, I have the language for this - it wasn't "tryouts"; it was a "skills assessment".)

But anyway, at tryouts, the first exercise was fielding the ball.  Kids lined up and one at a time, you went onto the field and some adult (a "coach"? was this The Coach?) hit 10 balls in your general direction for you to catch.  I was terrified of being hit in the face and didn't catch anything that came at me in the air.  Not the pop-ups, sure as hell not the line drive.  I think I actually just squeezed my eyes shut and held out my glove.  Balls 10; CPAGrrrl zero.

Next, he hit 10 ground balls in my general direction.  This I thought I had a chance at.
But I missed all of them.
Every.  Single.  One.
All.  TEN.

• They went around me, 
• They came at me faster than I expected, 
• They went straight between my legs while I flailed with that glove in one hand and reached with my other, bare, hand in desperation.  

I failed.  

Like, really, REALLY failed.  

And in front of our entire neighborhood.

In front of my father and both my brothers. 

The whole process probably took less than 5 minutes but it seemed to go on for hours.  I don't think I'd ever been THAT bad at ANYthing before. I was beyond embarrassed.  More than that - I had a great vocabulary - I could list TEN different words for how I felt.

I was mortified.

I was crushed.

I was humiliated.

I was ashamed.

I tried to hold my head up as I got back in line for the next round, our turn to hit.  The kid in front of me - I can't recall his name but I knew him from the neighborhood (and we were not friends) - he said something, berating me for not even being able to pick up a ground ball.

That was it.  I burst into tears as my father walked up.  I imagine he was saying something cheerful and encouraging.  I also imagine he had no idea what to do with a crying potential-ballplayer.  I imagine how confounded he must have felt.  (Basing this primarily on my own utter confusion any time someone begins crying in a situation where it's the last thing I'd expect.)  I don't know if he asked me if I wanted to leave, or if I said I wanted to or what.  But that's what happened next; I went home.  Baseball tryouts:  OVER.

I've learned to enjoy watching baseball.  But I've never been part of a team sport.  I was on a youth football cheer squad.  But my mom was the coach.  I'm not sure I ever really gave myself credit for that.  (Perhaps I should have.  Perhaps I should still. Perhaps I should.)  In high school, I started tryouts for the volleyball team, but quit before the first cut.  I have never joined in a company softball game.  The physical activities I participate in now are all individual - running, walking, biking, swimming.  I rarely even join a class at my gym.  This stuff isn't "my dad's fault."  Hell, I wouldn't say any of this stuff is even a negative outcome.  But I believe this stuff was influenced by the outcome of that day.  I wish my future choices had been influenced by a moment where I stayed in that line, even though I didn't want to.  I might have found out I was better at hitting the ball.

CPAGrrrl Cheerleader

Maybe I wouldn't have learned to be better at going after a literal ground ball.  Maybe I am simply Not Good At That.  But maybe I would have learned sooner how to go after a metaphorical one.  My father accidentally taught me that day, that it was OK to quit when something was a physical challenge.  And I believe NOW, that was a lesson I would have been better off without.  

I learned at an early age that my brain was a powerful tool muscle, that there are very few academic challenges I can't overcome with some effort.  And those lessons have stuck with me and gotten me through countless struggles.

I learned early to value what my MIND was capable of.

• Sometimes you need more time, 
• Sometimes you need to ask the right person for help, 
• but sooner or later, 
• ALL problems have an appropriate solution.  (correct? maybe, sometimes there are more than one of those) (and sometimes there are none.)

This GRRRL ENJOYED using her brain for fun and learning.

At the same time, I have walked away from countless physical challenges, saying:

• "I'd never be able to do that." (says fucking who?) 
• "I have no upper-body strength." (True, but why was that viewed as a permanent condition?) 
• "I am not very coordinated." (I imagine that can be remedied or at least improved upon with some practice.) 
• "I fall down a lot." (OK frankly that's just truth.  I fell down LAST Friday and was limping for 2 days.)

This GRRRL knew the value of long hours practicing, working to learn a new skill.

I think the concept I'm after here is "GRIT."[Thank you, Wikipedia.]  GRIT [thank you, amazing Ted Talk.] can be taught, and I eventually found it in my own way.  I just didn't have it yet, not when it came to "sports-y" things.  I believe GRIT to be the most important thing I can teach my child, the most important thing I learned from my parents, from my upbringing.

It took GRIT to keep going back to school after every obstacle that interrupted forward progress.  I was never ashamed that it took 12 years to finish that degree.  I worked my ass off EVERY MINUTE of those 12 years.

There are moments as a parent when you blow it.  Sometimes you KNOW you blew it - that time you snapped at your son for something small but really it was because your boss made you feel like shit at work that day and you hadn't had a chance to decompress before picking up the kids from school - you know you blew it that minute.  You do what you do - maybe apologize, maybe not, maybe you try to make up for it some way, definitely you try not to DO that again... (Parental GRIT in action.)

But sometimes - and as a parent these are the things that scare the crap out of me - sometimes you don't know you blew it.  My father blew it that day.  I'm sure he didn't realize it.  Certainly at the time, I had no idea anyone besides me was blowing it.  And it's not that he did anything wrong.  But looking back with the clarity of a 40-year-old woman who wishes she'd had more appreciation for what her BODY was capable of, as well as her MIND, I sure wish he'd found a way to make sure I stayed to the end of tryouts.

LIES I TELL MYSELF

(and proof they're not real)

No. 4

"I CAN'T DO [this thing]"

LIE.

Here's the truth:

I don't know how to do [that thing]. 

What Day Is It?

Last night was the last night of the 2015 Heat Wave women-only running group.  I sure do love that program.  I was a volunteer leader again this year - which is funny, because I'm not SUCH a strong runner... I'm just very enthusiastic.  Even as "leader" for the "back-of-the-packers" I sometimes struggle to keep up.  Last week was awful - my calf muscles were tight and wanting to cramp and they just never let up, the whole run I was just in pain.  Until about 40 minutes in.  That's right, you heard me.  FORTY minutes.  I had a miserable night and as a "Group Leader" felt like a failure.  But I guess I can say I was providing an example of how even experienced runners have a SHITTY RUN now and then.  Suck it up, buttercup.

During THIS week's run; however, got into a great discussion of "Balance." Shifting focus from "weight loss" goals to "fitness" and "attitude" orientation, and how that can affect things both positive and negative.  This past year, my goals had to make that shift, which required a great deal of soul-searching and conscious effort to reward myself for different behaviours, set different weekly / monthly goals, and begin looking at the number on the scale in a whole new light.  That gave me some space (mentally), taught me to be kinder to myself, and ease up on the pressure to Always Be Losing.  (When losing becomes impossible, that pressure is a recipe for self-hate, not self-love.)

My goal was to stay active, enjoy the "Active Lifestyle" I have constructed over the past six to eight years, and get comfortable maintaining that level of activity in the body that I HAVE, rather than waiting to start enjoying activities when I have the body I'm "supposed to obtain."  The part of that shift that was hardest for me was learning to tell the difference between "being kind to myself" vs. "being lazy" or "being complacent."  It's still not second-nature, but when I take the time to think through my decision-making process, it's always really easy to decipher.

Sometimes, "just showing up" is a win.  And I'm all about rewarding, celebrating, and acknowledging those days and giving props to myself when I Just Show Up.

From Michelle's Facebook Page - I saved as a great reminder for myself.

But other days... I can do better than Just Show Up.  Some days, I could kick the crap out of my workout and still come back for more.

The trick is knowing what day it is, and pushing myself appropriately.

This is What Success is Going to Look Like

I had an interesting little insight this morning that I'd like to share.

First I need to give you a little rundown on what's been going on around here -

This is my Busy Season, so if you follow my blog at all, you know I'm not posting much lately.  In fact, I haven't looked but I'm guessing it's been about 8 weeks since my last post.  I'm travelling quite a bit, working late, trying to keep a large number of projects running simultaneously and not let any of them fall completely apart.  I'm not complaining; I have a demanding job that I love, and this is just how it goes sometimes.  Thank goodness I have a wonderful supportive family that keeps everything at home generally under control during these times.

Well, maybe not everything.  But they do a great job keeping me sane!  You know, the house is a bit of a mess, but shit happens.  I'm a lousy housekeeper anyway, so I certainly have no complaints!

My nutrition is still mostly in the bad category.  Some days I plan well and eat well, some days it's a complete wreck.  I finally got back on the bandwagon logging my food.  I switched to MyFitnessPal because it syncs up with my BodyMedia Fit armband, and because I had to do SOMEthing - the food logging side of the BodyMedia web site / app is just awful.  Sadly, LoseIt! doesn't communicate with the armband.  I've been using that web site on and off for nearly 5 years, I'm sad to leave them.  But I am logging my food intake again, which is a big step in the right direction, and I've actually started to pay attention to the interim totals through the day, which I had sort of trained myself to ignore somewhere along the way.  That's an even bigger step in the right direction.

On the exercise part of this equation, I'm happy to say I'm still doing pretty well.  The Heat Wave group finished up about 2 weeks ago, and I was able to protect my schedule enough to make it to most of the 8 weeks of the program.  I really enjoy being a group leader.  It reinforces a sense that, while I have a long way to go mentally and physically, I have accomplished plenty that is worthy of recognition in my own thoughts, and reminds me to pat myself on the back a bit, even when I feel like I've moved backwards.  In 2009 when I first started to change my eating habits by using WW online, I never would have considered running; certainly not running and helping to organize a half-marathon (or four). 

The past 3 days are a perfect example of how things have been going, and thanks to BodyMedia, I have visual aids to demonstrate what I mean! 

Saturday:  Evergreen 5k - I've run this several times, I love it because I get to bring Coty.  This year the weather was perfect.  I had terrible leg cramps the whole time, though, so I had a pretty awful race experience this time.  (I wasn't last, but it was a near thing.)  I kept stopping to walk and stretch, trying to get my calves to release.  I had a lovely time socializing with my Lake Run Club friends and our many Heat Wave leaders and participants after the race, but it was definitely in my top 5 worst races ever.    Home from the race and relaxed for awhile, then took Louie out for a solo training session.  This is a little different from your average Dog Walk - lots of stops where we work on commands and he gets training treats, lots of attention and practice being calm and focused (and not lunging at people or other dogs).  This took about an hour, but we only went about a mile and a half.  Saturday night was the usual shenanigans, burger basket, drinks, late night. 

Here's what my BodyMedia Fit showed at the end of the day:



Pretty good - even with the alcoholic beverages added in, I was WAY over my daily step goal, 30 minutes over my activity goal, and 400 calories over my burn target.  Nutrition was also over, and I didn't quite hit my deficit goal, but 550 under is still a deficit I can feel good about.

Sunday:  I'd gone to bed really late Saturday night, but I really wanted to make it to the Lake Run Club ABC Run event Sunday morning, so when the alarm went off at 6:30, I dragged myself out of bed, did my Sunday morning nekkid weigh-in, slammed some water and made a big cup of coffee to go.  Coty went with me, but it was so early in the morning, Louie didn't even notice.  I told myself that a run and some coffee is the best cure for a hangover.  (Sadly, my hangover came back with a vengeance after the run and made me a very unhappy girl in the late-morning/early-afternoon, but that's the price of doing business.)  After the cramping of the day before, Coty and I walked for more than a mile before doing any running, then did an unstructured run/walk for 3 more miles.  There was a presentation and some refreshments, and we got home around 9:15 to find my husband and The Kid... still both SOUND ASLEEP.  I tried to nap, couldn't, watched TV, generally felt miserable, took some Advil and drank more water.  Eventually, the boys were up and my headache went away, and Louie started making noise about wanting his walk.  I talked the boys into making it a family affair.  We did about 3.5 miles with both dogs and both boys and I made everybody run intervals during the second half.  It was a blast.  Dinner was a Chipotle burrito bowl (which I must admit, I felt was well-deserved after all this activity!) with extra fajita veg, light on the cheese, no sour cream, and about half of the normal rice portion.  Food-wise, breakfast and lunch were pretty snacky, no major junk food, etc.

Here's what the stats looked like at the end of the day:

Again, good stuff.  I was actually under my calorie goal; 800 over my burn goal; way, way WAY over my activity and steps goals, and (as expected) my sleep time was pretty badly off the mark.  Check out that calorie deficit for the day!  BOOM!  But of course, not every day can be a two-a-day.  Who has three hours on a weekday to squeeze in all that fun??

And now we get to the point of my post (I know, took you long enough, Chris) - and that is this: 

These days were successful.  Terrific!  Happily successful days.  But at BEST, I could have two days like this in every 7.  And even at that, not every weekend has the kind of free time available to get this much activity in.  Sometimes I have to work on Saturday.  Sometimes I will be travelling.  Sometimes, I'll be lazy.  Sometimes I'll be sick.  Shit happens.

The real success is on Monday:  I got up early, hit the office, had meetings most of the day, worked a little late.  I did eat reasonably all day - yogurt and cottage cheese for breakfast, grilled chicken and romaine salad for lunch with a light dressing and some carrots.  (Actually, I took a picture:)

After work, I met up with my fellow Heat Wave group leaders for a happy hour celebrating ad socializing and getting to know some of the other leaders.  It was a great evening and I was S glad to go.  Being part of that group has been amazing and I look forward to spending more time with all of these women!  But this is about food:  I had a couple of pieces of bread, one glass of red wine ("just give me the cheapest red wine you have, I'm not picky.") and a Cajun Shrimp Quesadilla which was delicious, light on cheese, and heavy on flavor.  Worst part of the meal is probably the tortilla. 

So basically, what I'm saying is I got NO exercise all day, but I maintained a goal-oriented mindset when I made food choices, and made it work. Or so I thought.  Here's what the BodyMedia Fit had to say about that:

 

 

Calorie burn was a little shy of goal, but not far off.  Intake goal was within my allotment (but of course that's an estimate... Plus or Minus 100 calories isn't hard to fudge).  I HIT my deficit for the day!  And all that with only 22 minutes of "moderate" activity (basically that means ZERO activity - I get that walking from my car to my desk and going to the bathroom a couple of times).  And obviously, I was a far cry from my step goal and my sleep as well. 

But let me repeat:  I hit my deficit for the day.  On a day with NO exercise, AND with a meal out, including wine.

THAT's what SUCCESS is going to look like for me. 
Mondays that say in the GREEN. 
Supplemented by some awesome weekends where the stats are off the charts.

Really, Chris?

It's strange how sometimes you have the most profound thoughts in the weirdest times / places.  Usually it's in the shower, right?  Of course, because you can't write it down or do anything about it.  All you can do is start repeating that profundity, over and over, in your head or even out loud (?, sure, sometimes.), until you get out, dry off and find something to write on.  And by then I've certainly forgotten it, or at least lost the point of the thing.  This is my life.

Not this time.  I was brushing my teeth before bed and just allowing that crazy stream-of-consciousness freight train to fun along in my head. You know, man, the dogs were crazy tonight, what was that about?  Need to spend some serious time training with them as it gets warmer outside.  My neck really hurts, might need to check out a chiropractor or something.  I should learn not to fall down, or at least not to tense up my neck when I do, that would help.  How do you NOT tense up when you're falling down?  Gotta make sure my gym bag is packed for tomorrow, I have Catch the Wave after work and I won't have time to go home, gotta change at work or maybe in the bathroom at the park.  I've gotten a LOT of exercise recently.  Feels good.  It sure would be nice to see a loss on the scale this week after all that work...

And. I. STOP. 

Image courtesy of artur84 / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Wait. What?  

What's that you just said?  "It sure would be nice"?  Really?  What is this, a movie you are watching?  What are you, hoping for a happy ending?

So let's just check that thought right now.

I am not a passive observer of this process. I am not even a participant in this process. 

I AM the process.

I control whether my weight goes up or down or stays the same. This week and every week. 

I am in control of this. Am I going to do what it takes to get what I want, or wait for it to happen by some magic, benevolent force??

To quote our former president, "I am the decider."

Or another quote I use more often, usually on a different theme:

My body. My choice. 

I'm sure I've written a similar post at some point, but these thoughts are half my problem.  Yes, I got plenty of exercise this week, but have I gotten plenty of healthy fuel for my body?  Meh. I'd say 50/50. Well then, what do you expect?  If my mental exercise consists of wishing and hoping for better outcomes, instead of planning and working to achieve the outcome I want, the fight is over before it starts.  If what happens on the scale isn't really up to me, then it won't really matter what I eat or whether I exercise.  My fate is determined by an outside entity, so what difference does it make?

All of this probably stems from the so-so run I had on Sunday.  It was great, but it was really more of a very long and vigorous walk than a run.  My legs were tired, but I could have run more, and I knew it.  But hey, the gods will decide what happens whether I run or walk, right?  

Maybe I really did need a break.  Maybe I'd pushed my legs and glutes about as far as I should have for one week.  Perhaps.  Or maybe, I lost the mental battle before the physical one ever even started.

Image courtesy of Stuart Miles / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Get your head out of your ass, Chris. Let's go. 

Accountability Post

When I left off yesterday, I planned to hit the hotel gym before heading out to dinner with my team, and didn't know where we would be eating.

I didn't exactly hit the gym; instead I decided to try something new.  I recently downloaded the Daily Burn app for my iPad, and I wasn't feeling up for a treadmill run and didn't know what weights or machines might be available, so I decided to rearrange the furniture in my room (housekeeping loves when I do that, I'm sure) and try one of the DB workouts.  I only have the free version, not the subscription, so my options were limited, but there were 3 or 4 that looked like good choices for me.  Like an idiot, I chose the BHT (Butt, Hips, Thighs) workout.  I say "like an idiot" because OMG it was tough, and my BHT are burning like crazy today!  Lots of squats and lunges in various forms.  There were segments where I felt like I couldn't keep up and took a few seconds break mid-circuit, but I think I'd like to do it again sometime, see if I can make it through without the unscheduled rests.  Overall, I'd recommend it.  I didn't need much room.  I didn't have hand-held weights with me but it was certainly challenging without them, and it was a quick and easy way to get a 40-minute workout without much fuss.

Squat Challenge Update:  I decided after that BHT workout, I didn't need to add another 50 squats separately; it really felt like I had fulfilled my squat requirement for the day.  I'm calling it Still on Track for Day 17.  Logged the day as "completed" and saw the assignment for today.  *sigh... It's going to be hard to convince myself to do 125 squats today!  Especially since I will be leaving the client and driving 3 hours home to make it to a meeting tonight.  I'd better head to the restroom and get a couple of sets done before I take off.

So then:  dinner.  The girls chose a really great restaurant called Firefly.  All organic, focused on locally-grown foods, high quality stuff.  A bit pricey for a mid-week work dinner, but as it turned out, totally worth it.  I ended up having a sort of accidental Atkins meal.  Works for me, because although I don't intend to cut out an entire food group or macro-nutrient like Carbs, and I do get that Carbs are not the Enemy... I've been reading more about nutrition lately and I think I need more protein in my diet, and fewer carbs overall.

We split the Dungeness Crab Purses (basically a small fried crab rangoon) - there's my "splurge" for the meal.  For my side, I just wasn't feeling salad-y so I ordered the soup:  a cauliflower puree.  Turns out they were out of that, or maybe our waiter was wrong and it just wasn't the soup of the day, but anyway I ended up with a Butternut Squash puree which was completely amazing.  I wrote down what I think was in there, and have decided to try to replicate it at home.  Really good stuff.  For my entree, I ordered one of the specials:
Wild Caught Steelhead 
Spaghetti Squash, Lemon Spinach,
Davis Farms Purple Potatoes, Carrot Butter

You'd never know those potatoes were even there, I'd guess there was less than a 1/4-cup of diced cooked potatoes on the plate.  The fish was grilled, skin on, but I removed the skin and skipped it.  Tasted a lot like salmon, which I love.  I had water with dinner, NO WINE.  (big "win" there... you know how I love my wine.)

When they offered dessert, I was prepared to skip it, the girls had eaten there before and told me how amazing it was - they loved the Tiramisu (which I don't care for generally) but the waiter described the Black Berry Shortcake and I guess I caved.  Feeling good about my workout and feeling like I "deserved" it after opting out of wine, I suppose.  Home-made blackberry ice cream just sounded so refreshing and wonderful!  BUT, I told him I just wanted the scoop of ice cream; NO SHORTCAKE.

Once back at the hotel, I dutifully logged everything in to the best of my ability - I don't know how many ounces of fish they gave me, but I only ate about 3/4 of it... and of course when eating out, you never know for sure about the fat / salt content of the food - and  with the ice cream my log shows about 700 calories for dinner.  I'd done pretty well during the day, and guestimated about 200 calories burned for the BHT workout, and ended up within my calories for the day by 61.  BIG win, especially on the road.

Checked out Facebook before bed and found THE COOLEST thing:

Lincoln Presidential Half Finisher's Medal

I just LOVE that when people see photos like this one, I'm the one they think of and they re-post knowing I might be interested in signing up for a half-marathon because it has a cool-ass finisher's medal.  How freaking cool is that?!?  I may be a little off my game recently, but what great motivation that provides, knowing that people see me differently and expect different things from me now, no matter what my weight is or how my speed /endurance is going with my run routine.  I have a long way to go with my weight, and there are still more lifestyle changes I want to make in terms of living a more physically active life, but WOW!  I've come really far from the girl who sort-of-accidentally signed up for a 4.38-mile race back in 2008. (and btw, came in DFL in the Foot Pounder division!)

Race Recap: 2013 Park 2 Park 5-miler

My oh my, it's the Fourth of July!

This may be my worst race photo yet, but there you have it:  This is about 1/4-mile from the end of a 5-mile race on 7/4/13.  Once again I am posting a race recap long after the race actually was run, but I have written bits and pieces of this post in fits and starts over the past 6 weeks or so, and I decided it was still worth posting.
 Park to Park is always a very challenging race.  There aren't a lot of hills, but the course is a very steady, slow incline from start to finish, and there is not a lot of shade to be found along the course, so when I think of a hot, sticky mess of a race, this is the one that comes to mind.


.

The gods graced us with a bit less humidity this year, and that was a blessing.  It was still quite warm and getting warmer as the morning went on, thought, which explains in part the meek, slightly desperate look on my face in the above photo!

My race strategy was pretty simple: run one mile at a time, and take a 30-60 second walk break at each mile marker. With the heat, they plan out a water stop at each mile, so in general, this meant Walk the Water Stops.

I've run this race four times before and I was determined to finish in under an hour this time around.  I've been training hard - working with my physical therapist to resolve some hip and back pain issues has caused some slowing in my pace - but I've been working to get my speed back up with this race in mind. 

I got all my stretching in before the race started, even a pre-race warmup of about a 1/2-mile, followed by, yes, more stretching. 

The first two miles were right on pace at 11:30 and 11:45. I was chasing my friend Donna throughout, which was fun. Once I caught up to her, we ran together for a while during mile 3. I struggled there and had a couple of "unplanned" walk breaks - perhaps 30 seconds each, but we pushed each other to keep on. 



here I am, following Donna early on.

 

Eventually we parted ways, though I can't remember if she went ahead of me or the other way around... In any case I was on my own for most of mile 4, and that was a tough time.  My mental strength was leaving me.  I kept trying to calculate in my head whether or not I was going to meet my goal of finishing under 60 minutes, and the math was NOT working.  About a 1/2-mile from the finish line, I realized there was just NO WAY I could do it.  I had 8 minutes to go and too much distance to the end, it wasn't going to happen.  I felt so defeated, I nearly decided to stop running entirely and walk the rest of the way.  It's SO HOT, and dammit you slowed down too much in the past two miles, you'll never make it now.  I felt utterly defeated and ready to quit.  I wanted to cry, I was that disappointed.



Awesome photo of my friend Donna!

Still feeling good around mile 2



Slow, and slower for miles 3 and 4...

 

But I did NOT quit.  I reminded myself how HARD I had worked.  How much improved my time is in comparison to all the other Park 2 Park races I've run.  I re-ran the numbers and reminded myself that even if I don't meet my 60-minute goal, this was STILL going to be a PR for me, just not the PR I wanted. How can you be upset with a new PR, for crying out loud!?!  SHUT UP AND RUN!  There's less than a half-mile to go and YOU CAN FINISH STRONG!  How DARE you question your ability and feel defeated - you're in the middle of a race!  Now get off your pity-party and GET it DONE.

 

End of pity party.  I kept running, and I knew I had made the right decision.

 That's when I came across the photographer that took the first photo above.  I was too frustrated and distracted about my time to try and "pose" - I was just focused on keeping my legs moving and NOT GIVING UP.   

 

Then I neared the finish line (you run into a local baseball ballpark and the finish line is on the pitcher's mound) and just before I turned into the ballpark...

 

My Garmin chimed!  Indicating Mile 5 was complete.  I wasn't at the finish line yet, but my 5 miles were done. 

 

And the time was 59:36.

 

I FELT like this woman actually LOOKED:



Why can't we all look like this mid-race?



 

I had done it after all!  It turns out, even if you're an accountant, you should NEVER do math in your head during a race!!  My stupid brain was trying to convince me it couldn't be done - MATHEMATICAL IMPOSSIBILITY it told me!

 

It LIED.

 

SIDENOTE:  As soon as I crossed the finish line, I immediately felt like I might vomit.  That was a first for me.  I took full advantage of the water and Gatorade at each water stop, but I may have been dehydrated, despite my best efforts to avoid it.  I didn't end up losing whatever may have been left of my breakfast, but it was several minutes of pacing and wandering off on the field wondering if I was going to throw up or not... before I was able to join my husband on the sidelines who was there to cheer me across the finish.

 

The race is not chip-timed, only gun-start and chip-finish.  My official race time was 1:00:57.3 for a pace of 12:11 but my Garmin showed 1:00:16 for a pace of exactly 12:00.  Full Garmin stats here.

 

I'm so proud of that awful picture. I look at it and I can FEEL how awful I felt in that moment, how CRUSHED, and then I remember that I overcame such a huge mental obstacle that day, and went on to meet my goal after all.  Don't give up.  Not even when everything you think you know tells you it's impossible.  It's not true.  Even your own mind can betray you under the right stresses and circumstances.  Don't believe it when your silly, weak little brain sometimes whispers: It can't be done.  Wait it out, drown it out, and never give up.

 

Lesson for the day (which I re-learn nearly every race):

Don't trust your brain.

Do the work, trust your training.