During the last couple of days of July and first couple of days in August 2010 I was at Camp Do More, Chalene Johnson's camp full with workouts, fashion, and talks. I was in the middle of the loss I talked about last post and this helped a lot in healing, especially the talks. It was like every talk was directed towards me and the situation. I was also able to talk about it to my trip companion at length and just being able to talk about it helped start the healing process.
I got sick during camp and by the last day I wasn't even going to the workouts. From the hotel there I joined a 60 Days to Diamond group (long story, Beachbody related) but the important thing is that I underwent a three-day cleanse of 800 calories a day. And it was then that I learned that my body doesn't respond well to cleanses or low-calorie. I need FOOD. But it was around that time that the dizziness and vertigo started, and to this day it hasn't let up. It comes and goes, I have good days and bad days (today is a bad, no exercise day) and I've had to control food in order to still met my goals, eat enough, and not exercise some days.
I had blood tests drawn and my doctor said I was hypoglycemic (59 fasting) and told me to eat more and exercise less. A doctor actually told me to eat more and exercise less. How many times do you hear doctors say that? And say that TO ME. It's absurd, and if you had told me that 16 months ago I wouldn't have believed you.
But I didn't want to do that so I modified what I ate and have the episodes under control for the most part, and my down days are few and far apart. And the good days are GOOD. So I pretty much show up and give it my all and on days without vertigo or dizziness I'm like a kid in a candy store when I exercise because I get full use of my body. I used to say that I was lucky that my body followed me everywhere. It doesn't anymore. But I still follow my credo: Do what you can, when you can. And when I can, I enjoy the hell out of it.
I'm still undergoing tests to see what's going on. Work in progress. I've had to become my own advocate and research and go back with test codes so that the doctor can write me lab slips. This whole journey has made me a bit more assured of myself.
So on dizzy days I stay home and read or watch TV (I can't even get out of bed, I stumble standing up). And I rest and sleep. And on good days I work out 2-4 hours. I still go to group classes but I take it down instead of up. What I can, when I can.
Most of the time if I don't turn or bend over I can take a group class without much difficulty, and I found I can take spin while sick or dizzy just by holding on very tight to the handlebars to keep me on top of the bike.
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Losing the reason to run - and gaining it back (July-August 2010).
Something happened in July 2010. What happened is not going to the focus of this post, but rather what emerged from it. I used to run for other people. When I ran, I didn't run for me. I ran because other people thought I could run, because other people believed in me. I'd picture other people running alongside me or holding a rope pulling me forward. I was very extrinsic when it came to running. It didn't come from inside, it came from outside. But outside sources of motivation are not always available. What do you do in that situation? And that's exactly the kind of situation I found myself in on July 2010. I almost stopped running. I almost stopped doing triathlons. And I had to decide. Who, and what, was I running for? I decided I had to change. I couldn't run "for" other people anymore. I had to run for me. When it came down to the line, I had to be enough. I had to be able to go out there "alone" and make it because of me, not because of someone else. And I really changed in July and August 2010 and I switched from running extrinsically to running intrinsically, and I decided the strength and determination to run had to come from inside, not outside. Motivation and pep talks and people who believe in you are of course wonderful and always welcome, but first and foremost, you have to believe in yourself.
I suffered a loss that month (not from death, call it geographically moving away). And it was 13 months after my dad died (which, by the way, I'm probably not over it; I'm probably still in denial over that one.... nothing I can do but wait it out). So I told myself, look what happened when dad died. You transformed your life. Not on purpose, but it happened. You took this huge loss and turned it into the most wonderful thing you ever did for yourself. So how can you take this current situation and make it into something good? It was at that point that I started embracing mistakes because they just showed me what not to do next time. I was always one of those people paralyzed by the fear of making mistakes. But I've found that you can learn more when things DON'T go your way.
So those were two major shifts I underwent in late July early August, and they have shaped who I'm becoming tremendously. And it's all part of the journey. I don't know where it leads, but I know I'm enjoying the hell out of the ride. And now I'm starting to understand motivation. Why get out there in 100+ degree weather and attempt to run 50 miles? Because it's hard and overcoming it builds character and it makes you fight against all your fears and insecurities. In essence, every obstacle you overcome makes you a better person.
I suffered a loss that month (not from death, call it geographically moving away). And it was 13 months after my dad died (which, by the way, I'm probably not over it; I'm probably still in denial over that one.... nothing I can do but wait it out). So I told myself, look what happened when dad died. You transformed your life. Not on purpose, but it happened. You took this huge loss and turned it into the most wonderful thing you ever did for yourself. So how can you take this current situation and make it into something good? It was at that point that I started embracing mistakes because they just showed me what not to do next time. I was always one of those people paralyzed by the fear of making mistakes. But I've found that you can learn more when things DON'T go your way.
So those were two major shifts I underwent in late July early August, and they have shaped who I'm becoming tremendously. And it's all part of the journey. I don't know where it leads, but I know I'm enjoying the hell out of the ride. And now I'm starting to understand motivation. Why get out there in 100+ degree weather and attempt to run 50 miles? Because it's hard and overcoming it builds character and it makes you fight against all your fears and insecurities. In essence, every obstacle you overcome makes you a better person.
The Aftermath From The Marathon (6/26/10-October 2010).
I finished the marathon, got in the car, and drove home. It was time to go to work. I had taken Friday night off in order to sleep for the marathon but I hadn't taken Saturday night off. I was hoping to finish with enough time to sleep a few hours. I finished in 9 hours and 15 minutes, or at 7:15pm or so. I work at 9:15p. It takes about an hour to get home and 15 minutes to get to work. I got home, and I knew I wasn't going to go to work that day. In retrospect, I have no idea how I thought I could do my first marathon and then go to work. Looking back, it's laughable. Live and learn.
By the time I got home I started to hurt. I think what really messed up my recovery was the sunburn. I had the sunburn from hell (from running Running with the Devil without sunscreen). There are so many things I could have done without the sunburn: Touch my skin, massage, go into the jacuzzi, stretch, etc. I couldn't touch my body. It was a sunburn so bad I was shaking uncontrollably. There were blisters and peeling galore and I think it took two weeks to subside. The sunburn along with the aches and pain made it painful to walk, sit, lay, anything, really. I could only lay on one side, not on my back. I could not make contact with my calves, it hurt too much. It took me 10-20 minutes to make it up the stairs and lay in bed, and then I called in sick. Then I had to go to the bathroom. Because of the sunburn it was an ordeal to get into and out of bed. I strongly considered wetting the bed. I could always change the sheets. It took me 10 minutes to work up the courage to go to the bathroom. I couldn't sit properly on the toilet because of the sunburn. By now my legs were starting to really hurt because of the run and it hurt to stand up, sit down, walk. I hobbled, and poorly at that. I was a mess. I was not expecting that. It was then that I realized I had finally met my match. And I had finally done it. I had finally broken myself.
I somehow went to sleep that night, Saturday night. And Sunday I stayed home all day in bed on one side only trying to move as little as possible trying to let the body heal. I did go to work Sunday night. I don't know how I managed to wear pants. I almost didn't, work dress code be damned. Monday I got the bright idea of taking an aqua class. Because of the sunburn, the jacuzzi was out of the question. And I don't know why I got the idea in my head of taking an aqua class, I just did. And I got in the pool. Suzi was teaching, my first class with Suzi. When I got out an hour later, my hobbling started resembling a walk. I was almost walking normally. It healed me tremendously. Next marathon I'm getting into a pool as soon as possible after the event. It was the most wonderful thing ever. I credit Suzi and her aqua class in getting me to walk normally again. Tuesday, another aqua class. Getting better and better, able to sit and stand better. Wednesday, spin. It hurt at the beginning but it was like getting creaky gears turning again, the more they turned, the better they turned. It was literally rehabbing myself, like my body needed to learn how to move again, like it forgot how to move.
And I experienced the most curious thing ever. I couldn't run. I would think, ok, Debbie, RUN!! And I would inch forward and .... nothing. I think I wasn't able to run until Thursday and it was only a mild trot for a few paces. I thought that was the coolest thing ever. I lost the ability to run. It was like my body was scared of running, like it thought that if it ran for me again I would put it through another marathon. If you ever watched Speed Racer (the cartoons), there's an episode where SR crashes and gets scared of racing and Pops straps him to a chair making him watch a racing simulator while SR sweats. That's how it was. Especially with cycle, I think cycle got me running again because it taught my body how to get used to that sense of speed again. It was really like I knew what steps to follow to rehab myself, as everything I did helped inch me along to recovery.
There is one thing that I didn't get back for a long time, and that was the mile in boot camp. In a sense I never got it back. I've written how I started running that mile in the back of the pack and I even got there first on occasion, but mostly towards the front. After the marathon, I was next to last every single time or last. I lost my mile. And I quit boot camp before getting it back. It wasn't until October 26th 2010 that I finally regained the pre-marathon pace of 5.7 MPH (previous had been 5.56 MPH) for an hour. It took me exactly 4 months to come back from the marathon. They say it takes a week to recover for every mile ran in your first marathon. I ran 14 and walked 12.2 and it took me 17 weeks to recover. Sounds about right. And right after that run I regained the ability to blog. Something happened inside that took four months to heal. I definitely bit more than I could chew.
It was right around this time that I really got hooked into marathons and triathlons (even broken as I was) and I wanted to do endurance events = 26+ miles. 50, 100, 250, etc. And I started adding a run before boot camp. But I found that my body couldn't take the high impact of boot camp after the run, or maybe I hadn't healed properly yet. But I suffered. I hobbled. I hurt. And my last day of boot camp I was going DOWN towers barely able to move in a down incline and I just stopped and cried. I couldn't do that to myself any longer. I had to choose, triathlons or boot camp. Triathlons won. And so I quit book camp four short months after I started.
It is now October 30th, 2010, and I'm battling a flu, but I'm reading The Long Run by Matthew Long. It's very inspiring. I WILL do a Half Iron in 2011 and a Full Iron in 2012 or sooner. And one day I will run a full marathon. I have two Halfs coming up, at Valley of Fire on 11/20/10 (why do I always pick sites with hot imagery to them?) and the Las Vegas Rock n Roll on 12/05/10. Then let 2011 begin.
By the time I got home I started to hurt. I think what really messed up my recovery was the sunburn. I had the sunburn from hell (from running Running with the Devil without sunscreen). There are so many things I could have done without the sunburn: Touch my skin, massage, go into the jacuzzi, stretch, etc. I couldn't touch my body. It was a sunburn so bad I was shaking uncontrollably. There were blisters and peeling galore and I think it took two weeks to subside. The sunburn along with the aches and pain made it painful to walk, sit, lay, anything, really. I could only lay on one side, not on my back. I could not make contact with my calves, it hurt too much. It took me 10-20 minutes to make it up the stairs and lay in bed, and then I called in sick. Then I had to go to the bathroom. Because of the sunburn it was an ordeal to get into and out of bed. I strongly considered wetting the bed. I could always change the sheets. It took me 10 minutes to work up the courage to go to the bathroom. I couldn't sit properly on the toilet because of the sunburn. By now my legs were starting to really hurt because of the run and it hurt to stand up, sit down, walk. I hobbled, and poorly at that. I was a mess. I was not expecting that. It was then that I realized I had finally met my match. And I had finally done it. I had finally broken myself.
I somehow went to sleep that night, Saturday night. And Sunday I stayed home all day in bed on one side only trying to move as little as possible trying to let the body heal. I did go to work Sunday night. I don't know how I managed to wear pants. I almost didn't, work dress code be damned. Monday I got the bright idea of taking an aqua class. Because of the sunburn, the jacuzzi was out of the question. And I don't know why I got the idea in my head of taking an aqua class, I just did. And I got in the pool. Suzi was teaching, my first class with Suzi. When I got out an hour later, my hobbling started resembling a walk. I was almost walking normally. It healed me tremendously. Next marathon I'm getting into a pool as soon as possible after the event. It was the most wonderful thing ever. I credit Suzi and her aqua class in getting me to walk normally again. Tuesday, another aqua class. Getting better and better, able to sit and stand better. Wednesday, spin. It hurt at the beginning but it was like getting creaky gears turning again, the more they turned, the better they turned. It was literally rehabbing myself, like my body needed to learn how to move again, like it forgot how to move.
And I experienced the most curious thing ever. I couldn't run. I would think, ok, Debbie, RUN!! And I would inch forward and .... nothing. I think I wasn't able to run until Thursday and it was only a mild trot for a few paces. I thought that was the coolest thing ever. I lost the ability to run. It was like my body was scared of running, like it thought that if it ran for me again I would put it through another marathon. If you ever watched Speed Racer (the cartoons), there's an episode where SR crashes and gets scared of racing and Pops straps him to a chair making him watch a racing simulator while SR sweats. That's how it was. Especially with cycle, I think cycle got me running again because it taught my body how to get used to that sense of speed again. It was really like I knew what steps to follow to rehab myself, as everything I did helped inch me along to recovery.
There is one thing that I didn't get back for a long time, and that was the mile in boot camp. In a sense I never got it back. I've written how I started running that mile in the back of the pack and I even got there first on occasion, but mostly towards the front. After the marathon, I was next to last every single time or last. I lost my mile. And I quit boot camp before getting it back. It wasn't until October 26th 2010 that I finally regained the pre-marathon pace of 5.7 MPH (previous had been 5.56 MPH) for an hour. It took me exactly 4 months to come back from the marathon. They say it takes a week to recover for every mile ran in your first marathon. I ran 14 and walked 12.2 and it took me 17 weeks to recover. Sounds about right. And right after that run I regained the ability to blog. Something happened inside that took four months to heal. I definitely bit more than I could chew.
It was right around this time that I really got hooked into marathons and triathlons (even broken as I was) and I wanted to do endurance events = 26+ miles. 50, 100, 250, etc. And I started adding a run before boot camp. But I found that my body couldn't take the high impact of boot camp after the run, or maybe I hadn't healed properly yet. But I suffered. I hobbled. I hurt. And my last day of boot camp I was going DOWN towers barely able to move in a down incline and I just stopped and cried. I couldn't do that to myself any longer. I had to choose, triathlons or boot camp. Triathlons won. And so I quit book camp four short months after I started.
It is now October 30th, 2010, and I'm battling a flu, but I'm reading The Long Run by Matthew Long. It's very inspiring. I WILL do a Half Iron in 2011 and a Full Iron in 2012 or sooner. And one day I will run a full marathon. I have two Halfs coming up, at Valley of Fire on 11/20/10 (why do I always pick sites with hot imagery to them?) and the Las Vegas Rock n Roll on 12/05/10. Then let 2011 begin.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
The Marathon (6/26/10)
I don't know why it's so hard to write about the marathon. I don't view it as a traumatic event, but here we are four months later and this entry has taken a long time and a lot out of me to write. Something happened in the marathon. Something happened inside. I think I broke myself. Well, let's not get ahead of ourselves.
The marathon was at Boulder Beach on Saturday, 6/26/2010. I wanted to do the marathon because I started working out on 7/3/09 and I started running in early January 2010, so if I somehow managed to do this it would be less than a year from the time I started working out and less than six months from the time I couldn't run 30 seconds. I hadn't trained -at all.- I wanted that for myself, and through sheer will alone I was going to do it. Sure, I could fail, but I had to try, and there was no time to train. I'd rather show up and fail than never having shown up at all, and I still feel that way. Show up and do what you can, when you can. I learned about the marathon I think not too long before the actual event. I was active, going to boot camp and taking classes at the gym, but other than boot camp I didn't run.
Running With The Devil Marathon runs along Lake Mead in Boulder City and is so named because the temperatures are in the 90's-100's. Right in the middle of summer. It's not just a marathon, it's a hot marathon. Not the kind of marathon they advise for a first-timer. It started I believe at 10a, fairly late because they wanted the sun to be nice and hot for us. Most events start at 6a or so.
I woke up early and had all my supplies ready from the night before: fanny pack with 10 protein bars, iPod with my marathon playlist, carb chews, electrolyte pills, and cell phone (I never run without my cell phone fully charged, never know what may happen, especially when I'm running in the middle of nowhere, but I tend to not be ON it while I run). Race materials. Boot camp shirt, bandanna, and dog tags. CamelBak. I was good to go. I decided that the extra weight was worth it, that I'd rather be over-prepared.
I got there with over half an hour left. I weighed in and then went back to the car to relax before the race. 16 of water down, port-a-potty visit, retie shoes, check my supplies. All good.
Race time. We bunched up as a group and took a picture. Then it was off, nice easy pace to start. There were stations every three miles or so, with a weigh-in halfway to make sure you didn't lose 4% of your body weigh or you were disqualified. Lose 2% and you had to rehydrate yourself before continuing. The stations were interesting. I brought supplies to be self-sufficient and only stopped to refill the CamelBak, but by the end, I was so grateful they were there and I was sitting, drinking, eating. I got so excited when I saw gummi bears. And ate a lot of bread with peanut butter. The bananas were kind of gross because of the heat and so were the potatoes and salt so I skipped them.
Right at the beginning within the first 2-3 miles something was wrong. I felt kind of dizzy but I didn't know why. Ate a protein bar. Took an electrolyte pill. Ate a carb chew. Drank some water. Then I felt well, so ONE of those things helped. That was the only protein bar I ate. They were too "heavy" to run with. I like that, trying to figure out what's wrong by listening to your body and fixing it. I didn't felt unwell the rest of the marathon. And right towards the beginning my knee was hurting (which it had been doing for a couple of weeks) but I massaged it briefly and it held up well. I was going to wear a knee brace but I decided against it as I felt it added too much bulk and restricted mobility. I WAS wearing an ankle brace.
I ran a total of 14 miles, so I ran a full half-marathon. I will add times later but I got there about 3.5 hours after I started. I actually GAINED weight mid-way, which I guess it's ok. You don't get disqualified for gaining weight. I didn't go to the bathroom until very late into the marathon and I think I only went once, maybe twice, and not really because I had to go but because I could not be certain I wouldn't need within the next three miles and I didn't want to go on the side of the road.
I don't know why I stopped running at mile 14. My body just knew. I think that's my biggest strength, I know when to push and when to back away, so I'm not really worried about pushing my body. Then I had to get back to the car, 12.2 miles away. It was going to take hours, and I was not looking forward to it, but sometimes it's harder to quit than to keep going. So I started walking back. Up to that moment I really truly believed I was going to run 26.2 miles out of sheer will. I was going to do it. And I don't quit. When I run a race I'm either going to faint or finish. So far I've finished. I get into that I'm going all-out mentality where -nothing- will stop me. It really started with that run to the wall in boot camp. The floor or the wall. Collapsing or the finish line. There's no in-betweens. So for me it was very hard to start walking. Because I couldn't say I ran a marathon. I've amended it to say I've completed a marathon and then explain I ran 14 miles and walked 12.2, and I incidentally ran my first half-marathon. One day I will run 26.2 miles straight, it's just a matter of time. And it was a good thing I stopped when I did. I really think that if the distance had been half a mile longer I wouldn't have made it. I used to think you could walk forever. I was wrong. I really think I went beyond what my body could. People said I could have died. I say yeah. And see, the thing is, you don't really WANT to die. You don't really think you're going to die. And you're probably not going to die. There's ambulances. The body will shut down (faint) probably before any long-term damage is done. People at the rest stops will stop you from continuing. There's many contingencies. Do people die at marathons? Sure, but it's very uncommon. And what people don't get is that this is the same as rock climbing or motocross racing or even trick bicycling. It's about pushing against something and having a little bit of risk. It's about going against nature, and winning. Heck, my dad died at home going down the stairs. And people tell me I'm chasing death with all that I do, that I'm looking to join him. And that actually is as far away from the truth as you can get. By dying the way he did he left me with the ability to overcome fear. When I was about to skydive from the plane yeah I thought I could die, but what was I going do, go home because home is safer? Dad showed me that you can't be afraid of life because death can come anytime, anywhere, and in any shape. So live life. Fully. And all of this has actually allowed me to live life like never before. I've lived more in the past 16 months than in the previous 31 years of my life. So no, it actually isn't about having a death wish. All of this is about having a life wish. I'm sick and tired of laying in bed at home being scared of life. I'm going to go out there and experience it.
Another thing that people fail to realize is that it has been 16 months. How reckless can I be that I have done a lot of crazy stuff and I'm still in one piece? And that's where we come back to knowing when to push and when to pull back. Have that ability and you feel secure in that whatever happens, you'll make it out intact at the other side. It can't ALL be dumb luck, I'm sure my actions have carried me a long way in being safe and healthy. And, after all, if I die or get injured then I can't do the next crazy thing, and it's all about the next crazy thing.
So I started walking at mile 14. It was going to be a long way home. Then came Mile 17. Something happened on Mile 17. I was going to get to the next rest station and I was going to ask to be driven back. I was done. Close to five hours by then. You had to finish the whole thing within ten hours. I was finished. I was ready for the experience to be over. Hey, I ran a half marathon, so I got THAT out of the day. Debbie, who never quit, was throwing in the towel. I wanted to go home and forget this marathon had ever happened. I had enough adventure for a while.
Then, all of a sudden, I realized that I had just climbed this monster hill, the worst part of the course, and, within half a mile of the station where I was going to quit, I was ok. I could finish. It was then, around mile 17.5, that I knew I was going to finish. I didn't think I was going to finish, I knew I was going to finish.
I'm glad I had nail clippers with me. I kept using them trying to get rid of a nail until I figured out the pain was actually a bit of skin that had rubbed off, and was a bit raw. Sat at the side of the road clipping a handful of times. Somewhere after the half-way mark (I think) I gave away all the protein bars, they added too much weight. First I left some at a table then I dumped the rest on another table at a different rest stop. I didn't drink much, but then again I'm not a big drinker, I go on one-hour runs without water all the time. Next time it's just me and the CamelBak, I feel secure that the rest stops will provide all the nourishment I need.
Oh, and the electrolyte pills. It is my belief that those electrolyte pills are what allowed me to finish. They were a lifesaver. Who cares if it was mental or physical, I think they really helped. I started with a schedule, two electrolyte pills and a carb chew every mile, then whenever I felt I needed one, then towards the end I stopped taking them. I may just take them as needed next time. The carb chews, which I had in the fridge since the day before so that they were nice and cold, were a gooey hot mess by midway. Nothing to do about that during a marathon called Running with the Devil.
When I was within 0.80 miles of the end, another runner collapsed (but was still conscious). Something about his calves locking up and he was done. I offered him carb chews, electrolyte pills, but he said no, it was too late. He was doing the 50 miles and he got stuck and unable to finish and picked up by ambulance 0.80 miles from the end. Me? I would have been rolling to the finish line. You don't need your calves to roll.
Towards the end I started sitting at rest stops and I realized I was going to burn, bad. I hadn't put on ANY sunscreen and I literally could feel my calves sizzling and people kept exclaiming at how pink they were, and around mile 20 I started getting sunscreen put on by others at rest stops. I could barely move. There was this other runner who was about to get a special prize by completing a certain number of Calico Racing events and he didn't think he could finish. I told him that all I had waiting for me at the finish line was going to work that night, that he could at least look forward to a prize. He did finish, in over 10 hours.
I finished in 9 hours and 15 minutes. When I was going through the finish line someone cheered and I gave a little whoop, but I didn't feel it. You're supposed to feel this rush of euphoria at finishing your first marathon, but I felt nothing. I had nothing left to feel with. There was nothing left inside, no energy to form emotions with. I got in the car and went home after picking up my medal. It was time to go to work.
In the next entry I will discuss the repercussions of the marathon. And believe me, there were many. But to this day, I would do it all over again in a heartbeat. I asked myself when I stopped running where was the Debbie who never quit. It turned out she was there all along. I truly believe I gave it all I had and more and it took me to the brink and back. And that's an experience that lasts you for a lifetime.
The marathon was at Boulder Beach on Saturday, 6/26/2010. I wanted to do the marathon because I started working out on 7/3/09 and I started running in early January 2010, so if I somehow managed to do this it would be less than a year from the time I started working out and less than six months from the time I couldn't run 30 seconds. I hadn't trained -at all.- I wanted that for myself, and through sheer will alone I was going to do it. Sure, I could fail, but I had to try, and there was no time to train. I'd rather show up and fail than never having shown up at all, and I still feel that way. Show up and do what you can, when you can. I learned about the marathon I think not too long before the actual event. I was active, going to boot camp and taking classes at the gym, but other than boot camp I didn't run.
Running With The Devil Marathon runs along Lake Mead in Boulder City and is so named because the temperatures are in the 90's-100's. Right in the middle of summer. It's not just a marathon, it's a hot marathon. Not the kind of marathon they advise for a first-timer. It started I believe at 10a, fairly late because they wanted the sun to be nice and hot for us. Most events start at 6a or so.
I woke up early and had all my supplies ready from the night before: fanny pack with 10 protein bars, iPod with my marathon playlist, carb chews, electrolyte pills, and cell phone (I never run without my cell phone fully charged, never know what may happen, especially when I'm running in the middle of nowhere, but I tend to not be ON it while I run). Race materials. Boot camp shirt, bandanna, and dog tags. CamelBak. I was good to go. I decided that the extra weight was worth it, that I'd rather be over-prepared.
I got there with over half an hour left. I weighed in and then went back to the car to relax before the race. 16 of water down, port-a-potty visit, retie shoes, check my supplies. All good.
Race time. We bunched up as a group and took a picture. Then it was off, nice easy pace to start. There were stations every three miles or so, with a weigh-in halfway to make sure you didn't lose 4% of your body weigh or you were disqualified. Lose 2% and you had to rehydrate yourself before continuing. The stations were interesting. I brought supplies to be self-sufficient and only stopped to refill the CamelBak, but by the end, I was so grateful they were there and I was sitting, drinking, eating. I got so excited when I saw gummi bears. And ate a lot of bread with peanut butter. The bananas were kind of gross because of the heat and so were the potatoes and salt so I skipped them.
Right at the beginning within the first 2-3 miles something was wrong. I felt kind of dizzy but I didn't know why. Ate a protein bar. Took an electrolyte pill. Ate a carb chew. Drank some water. Then I felt well, so ONE of those things helped. That was the only protein bar I ate. They were too "heavy" to run with. I like that, trying to figure out what's wrong by listening to your body and fixing it. I didn't felt unwell the rest of the marathon. And right towards the beginning my knee was hurting (which it had been doing for a couple of weeks) but I massaged it briefly and it held up well. I was going to wear a knee brace but I decided against it as I felt it added too much bulk and restricted mobility. I WAS wearing an ankle brace.
I ran a total of 14 miles, so I ran a full half-marathon. I will add times later but I got there about 3.5 hours after I started. I actually GAINED weight mid-way, which I guess it's ok. You don't get disqualified for gaining weight. I didn't go to the bathroom until very late into the marathon and I think I only went once, maybe twice, and not really because I had to go but because I could not be certain I wouldn't need within the next three miles and I didn't want to go on the side of the road.
I don't know why I stopped running at mile 14. My body just knew. I think that's my biggest strength, I know when to push and when to back away, so I'm not really worried about pushing my body. Then I had to get back to the car, 12.2 miles away. It was going to take hours, and I was not looking forward to it, but sometimes it's harder to quit than to keep going. So I started walking back. Up to that moment I really truly believed I was going to run 26.2 miles out of sheer will. I was going to do it. And I don't quit. When I run a race I'm either going to faint or finish. So far I've finished. I get into that I'm going all-out mentality where -nothing- will stop me. It really started with that run to the wall in boot camp. The floor or the wall. Collapsing or the finish line. There's no in-betweens. So for me it was very hard to start walking. Because I couldn't say I ran a marathon. I've amended it to say I've completed a marathon and then explain I ran 14 miles and walked 12.2, and I incidentally ran my first half-marathon. One day I will run 26.2 miles straight, it's just a matter of time. And it was a good thing I stopped when I did. I really think that if the distance had been half a mile longer I wouldn't have made it. I used to think you could walk forever. I was wrong. I really think I went beyond what my body could. People said I could have died. I say yeah. And see, the thing is, you don't really WANT to die. You don't really think you're going to die. And you're probably not going to die. There's ambulances. The body will shut down (faint) probably before any long-term damage is done. People at the rest stops will stop you from continuing. There's many contingencies. Do people die at marathons? Sure, but it's very uncommon. And what people don't get is that this is the same as rock climbing or motocross racing or even trick bicycling. It's about pushing against something and having a little bit of risk. It's about going against nature, and winning. Heck, my dad died at home going down the stairs. And people tell me I'm chasing death with all that I do, that I'm looking to join him. And that actually is as far away from the truth as you can get. By dying the way he did he left me with the ability to overcome fear. When I was about to skydive from the plane yeah I thought I could die, but what was I going do, go home because home is safer? Dad showed me that you can't be afraid of life because death can come anytime, anywhere, and in any shape. So live life. Fully. And all of this has actually allowed me to live life like never before. I've lived more in the past 16 months than in the previous 31 years of my life. So no, it actually isn't about having a death wish. All of this is about having a life wish. I'm sick and tired of laying in bed at home being scared of life. I'm going to go out there and experience it.
Another thing that people fail to realize is that it has been 16 months. How reckless can I be that I have done a lot of crazy stuff and I'm still in one piece? And that's where we come back to knowing when to push and when to pull back. Have that ability and you feel secure in that whatever happens, you'll make it out intact at the other side. It can't ALL be dumb luck, I'm sure my actions have carried me a long way in being safe and healthy. And, after all, if I die or get injured then I can't do the next crazy thing, and it's all about the next crazy thing.
So I started walking at mile 14. It was going to be a long way home. Then came Mile 17. Something happened on Mile 17. I was going to get to the next rest station and I was going to ask to be driven back. I was done. Close to five hours by then. You had to finish the whole thing within ten hours. I was finished. I was ready for the experience to be over. Hey, I ran a half marathon, so I got THAT out of the day. Debbie, who never quit, was throwing in the towel. I wanted to go home and forget this marathon had ever happened. I had enough adventure for a while.
Then, all of a sudden, I realized that I had just climbed this monster hill, the worst part of the course, and, within half a mile of the station where I was going to quit, I was ok. I could finish. It was then, around mile 17.5, that I knew I was going to finish. I didn't think I was going to finish, I knew I was going to finish.
I'm glad I had nail clippers with me. I kept using them trying to get rid of a nail until I figured out the pain was actually a bit of skin that had rubbed off, and was a bit raw. Sat at the side of the road clipping a handful of times. Somewhere after the half-way mark (I think) I gave away all the protein bars, they added too much weight. First I left some at a table then I dumped the rest on another table at a different rest stop. I didn't drink much, but then again I'm not a big drinker, I go on one-hour runs without water all the time. Next time it's just me and the CamelBak, I feel secure that the rest stops will provide all the nourishment I need.
Oh, and the electrolyte pills. It is my belief that those electrolyte pills are what allowed me to finish. They were a lifesaver. Who cares if it was mental or physical, I think they really helped. I started with a schedule, two electrolyte pills and a carb chew every mile, then whenever I felt I needed one, then towards the end I stopped taking them. I may just take them as needed next time. The carb chews, which I had in the fridge since the day before so that they were nice and cold, were a gooey hot mess by midway. Nothing to do about that during a marathon called Running with the Devil.
When I was within 0.80 miles of the end, another runner collapsed (but was still conscious). Something about his calves locking up and he was done. I offered him carb chews, electrolyte pills, but he said no, it was too late. He was doing the 50 miles and he got stuck and unable to finish and picked up by ambulance 0.80 miles from the end. Me? I would have been rolling to the finish line. You don't need your calves to roll.
Towards the end I started sitting at rest stops and I realized I was going to burn, bad. I hadn't put on ANY sunscreen and I literally could feel my calves sizzling and people kept exclaiming at how pink they were, and around mile 20 I started getting sunscreen put on by others at rest stops. I could barely move. There was this other runner who was about to get a special prize by completing a certain number of Calico Racing events and he didn't think he could finish. I told him that all I had waiting for me at the finish line was going to work that night, that he could at least look forward to a prize. He did finish, in over 10 hours.
I finished in 9 hours and 15 minutes. When I was going through the finish line someone cheered and I gave a little whoop, but I didn't feel it. You're supposed to feel this rush of euphoria at finishing your first marathon, but I felt nothing. I had nothing left to feel with. There was nothing left inside, no energy to form emotions with. I got in the car and went home after picking up my medal. It was time to go to work.
In the next entry I will discuss the repercussions of the marathon. And believe me, there were many. But to this day, I would do it all over again in a heartbeat. I asked myself when I stopped running where was the Debbie who never quit. It turned out she was there all along. I truly believe I gave it all I had and more and it took me to the brink and back. And that's an experience that lasts you for a lifetime.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Motivation
Well, here we are. Last time I blogged regularly was right before the 6/26/10 marathon and today is the 19th of September, so almost three months. A LOT of write about. I'm switching it over to topics while I catch up and once I do I'll decide where I'll keep with topics or dates.
This post will start up with a bit on motivation and then go into THE MARATHON, which was on 6/26/10.
Motivation. What drives me? I realized that I have a few qualities that have helped me to lose weight (yesterday night reached 129.5 lbs. 85.5 lost in 63 weeks (1.357 average pounds per week) and 100.5 lbs down from heaviest weight)). I had been feeling a bit down and wrote these three messages to someone on Facebook about it, and I think they sum it up well, so instead of repeating myself I'll just cut and paste. I think this also encapsulates very well the state of mind I have been in for the last couple of months.
Well, I did have one person tell me at work to stop talking about working out and eating right because "everyone" was sick and tired of listening to it and that no one that would tell me the truth would tell me that I look healthy. Another person told me not to take three classes in a row but that I was going to do what I wanted anyway and what do they know they're just an instructor and to enjoy my workout. I don't feel very changey. Nowadays I'm just glad if I go through a day without pissing anyone off lol
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And that's the thing... I didn't even go out to change myself it just kind of happened. I don't know if you know how it all got started. On 6/2/09 at night I talked to my dad and six hours later we got a call that he slipped down the stairs at home, hit his head, and died (he lived in another country). Went to bury him and came back on 7/2 at 11:00p. On 7/3/09 I stepped into a 24 Hour Fitness and the rest is history. But it wasn't really a choice like "Oh I have to make his death count for something" or anything like that. It wasn't something I CHOSE to do, it was something I DID. I don't even know why. I don't even know what drives me.
And I think people don't realize what an adjustment this is for someone going through it. I mean one day you wake up and you're looking at a stranger in the mirror. I hated my face when it started thinning out (but I'm getting used to it). And you pretty much lose your fat self and you have to pretty much let go of who you were and become somebody else whether you want to or not on some level. That was the hardest part, saying goodbye to whom I call Fat Debbie. I miss her sometimes. I'll go into a room of people and I'll feel more comfortable around fat people. Like if you are Hispanic and go into a room with a bunch of people of different ethnicities, you'll feel a sense of belonging with people who also share that with you. Because there's a part of me deep down that will ALWAYS be Fat Debbie. Maybe it's different for people who have been thin before but I had never been thin my whole life, always overweight or obese, mostly obese.
And what's funny is that I had to start thinking of myself as having a physical side and I never had that before.
I don't know how you're supposed to lose weight or what you're supposed to do or act or say. Never done it to this scale before. And according to other people I do it wrong half the time lol I'm just trying to hang on for dear life as I barrel down a highway at lightning speed, so to speak. I think I'm a pretty open and accepting person and I don't need people to agree with what I do but it just seems like if I don't agree with someone else I'm doing it wrong. I DID decide (or not even decided but just did) from early on that I wasn't going to listen to anybody but do this my own way. I had to do this the way it worked for me and not anybody else. No rest days. Seven classes in one day. I give 110%. Some days that is seven classes, some days that means laying in bed resting. My 110% changes but not the 110%. But I had to do this my way. And that just seems to rub people the wrong way.
I wrote negatively (in a way) about BodyPump (that a group class can by design never be as effective for a specific individual than a workout routine especially designed for that individual) and pissed another instructor off.
So nowadays I'm feeling that no matter what I do I'm doing it all wrong lol :(
And I think people don't realize what an adjustment this is for someone going through it. I mean one day you wake up and you're looking at a stranger in the mirror. I hated my face when it started thinning out (but I'm getting used to it). And you pretty much lose your fat self and you have to pretty much let go of who you were and become somebody else whether you want to or not on some level. That was the hardest part, saying goodbye to whom I call Fat Debbie. I miss her sometimes. I'll go into a room of people and I'll feel more comfortable around fat people. Like if you are Hispanic and go into a room with a bunch of people of different ethnicities, you'll feel a sense of belonging with people who also share that with you. Because there's a part of me deep down that will ALWAYS be Fat Debbie. Maybe it's different for people who have been thin before but I had never been thin my whole life, always overweight or obese, mostly obese.
And what's funny is that I had to start thinking of myself as having a physical side and I never had that before.
I don't know how you're supposed to lose weight or what you're supposed to do or act or say. Never done it to this scale before. And according to other people I do it wrong half the time lol I'm just trying to hang on for dear life as I barrel down a highway at lightning speed, so to speak. I think I'm a pretty open and accepting person and I don't need people to agree with what I do but it just seems like if I don't agree with someone else I'm doing it wrong. I DID decide (or not even decided but just did) from early on that I wasn't going to listen to anybody but do this my own way. I had to do this the way it worked for me and not anybody else. No rest days. Seven classes in one day. I give 110%. Some days that is seven classes, some days that means laying in bed resting. My 110% changes but not the 110%. But I had to do this my way. And that just seems to rub people the wrong way.
I wrote negatively (in a way) about BodyPump (that a group class can by design never be as effective for a specific individual than a workout routine especially designed for that individual) and pissed another instructor off.
So nowadays I'm feeling that no matter what I do I'm doing it all wrong lol :(
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And on top of everything else I developed vertigo six weeks ago. So I went from 21 classes a week to having difficulty getting out of bed in a short period of time. But I mentioned the vertigo to an instructor and she wrote back how she also suffered from vertigo and I realized I was having a pity party. If she could teach with vertigo I could take a class with vertigo. This was Wednesday. And I noticed how I wrote that I was waiting for things to go back to "normal." So I decided that instead of waiting for the vertigo to go away to go back to normal I just had to adjust to what normal is for me and make vertigo my new normal. Had an awesome three classes in a row today, dizziness and all =) [Friday] I'll just be the one that has vertigo and takes classes (undergoing tests at the doctor now to try to figure out what is causing it... should have blood tests back Monday. Heart and sugar fine. Next up is an ears/nose/throat doctor and so on down the line).
I use calories burned during workouts to gauge what shape my body is in. I can tell you if I'm sick by how many calories I burned in a class. I got up to 550 (only three times) but I hit 500 regularly. Then the vertigo hit. And I went down to 430 and even 392 in one class. That one hit me hard. That's the instructor I wrote to. Now from one day to the next I'm up to 497. Not 500 but pretty darn close. I feel like I'm pretty much "back" after weeks of being off =) But I decided the vertigo is not going to stop me so I adjust when I need to (I'll do extra jumping jacks instead of lounging to the floor). I find I do well if I stay "up" i.e. not bending below the waist. Slowly I'll learn how to go down also while not getting too dizzy or dealing with it. I'm teaching myself how to move with vertigo, i.e. being very light on my feet so that I can adjust my stance if I start swaying.
And I think something people don't realize is that the stubborness, hard-headedness, and refusal to listen and follow the status quo IS the reason I am where I am. That's what makes me me. The OCD about calories and workout schedules and calories burned IS what allowed me to get here. Everything that people say is wrong is precisely what allowed this to happen to me.
When [somebody who I will talk about in a future post, although don't hold your breath for names or identifying information, and no, we're not talking a romantic relationship, we're talking person-that-forever-changed-my-life relationship] "dumped" me I made a choice. I told myself that look at what came out of my dad dying without me even deciding on it. If all this could come out of that, how could I use her dumping me in order to become better? Every time there's a setback in my life now I try to come out of it better. And I used to exercise FOR other people (i.e. I ran because she believed in me) but I decided from now on I didn't run for anybody else. I ran for me. The inner strength couldn't come from other people anymore, it had to come from me. I got to that point from a huge loss in my life and I got to this point through another huge loss. I used to tell people I was lucky to have her in my life and meant it, and all of I sudden I didn't have her anymore. So I've had to deal with three huge losses this past year: My dad, Fat Debbie, and her.
I don't think I know how to give up any longer. Something always happens that keeps the spark alive. I am just beginning :)
I use calories burned during workouts to gauge what shape my body is in. I can tell you if I'm sick by how many calories I burned in a class. I got up to 550 (only three times) but I hit 500 regularly. Then the vertigo hit. And I went down to 430 and even 392 in one class. That one hit me hard. That's the instructor I wrote to. Now from one day to the next I'm up to 497. Not 500 but pretty darn close. I feel like I'm pretty much "back" after weeks of being off =) But I decided the vertigo is not going to stop me so I adjust when I need to (I'll do extra jumping jacks instead of lounging to the floor). I find I do well if I stay "up" i.e. not bending below the waist. Slowly I'll learn how to go down also while not getting too dizzy or dealing with it. I'm teaching myself how to move with vertigo, i.e. being very light on my feet so that I can adjust my stance if I start swaying.
And I think something people don't realize is that the stubborness, hard-headedness, and refusal to listen and follow the status quo IS the reason I am where I am. That's what makes me me. The OCD about calories and workout schedules and calories burned IS what allowed me to get here. Everything that people say is wrong is precisely what allowed this to happen to me.
When [somebody who I will talk about in a future post, although don't hold your breath for names or identifying information, and no, we're not talking a romantic relationship, we're talking person-that-forever-changed-my-life relationship] "dumped" me I made a choice. I told myself that look at what came out of my dad dying without me even deciding on it. If all this could come out of that, how could I use her dumping me in order to become better? Every time there's a setback in my life now I try to come out of it better. And I used to exercise FOR other people (i.e. I ran because she believed in me) but I decided from now on I didn't run for anybody else. I ran for me. The inner strength couldn't come from other people anymore, it had to come from me. I got to that point from a huge loss in my life and I got to this point through another huge loss. I used to tell people I was lucky to have her in my life and meant it, and all of I sudden I didn't have her anymore. So I've had to deal with three huge losses this past year: My dad, Fat Debbie, and her.
I don't think I know how to give up any longer. Something always happens that keeps the spark alive. I am just beginning :)
So, let's talk about motivation. I think I can pinpoint three specific instances when a specific person made a huge difference in me continuing the journey. The first was my first week of taking group classes at 24 Hour Fitness back in the first week of September 2009. I had just come from my third set of measurements by a trainer (I had four free sessions). All my measurements went down from the first to the second set but they went back UP from the second to the third set, most to first-set levels. I had been working out for two months. I was crushed. And I told an instructor about it. This must have been my second class with her. And it wasn't what she said or what she did, it was just the way she made me feel. Like it was going to be ok. That's why even though I don't call her that to other people, she's my favorite instructor. Because she was there at the beginning when I was down and propped me back up. Who knows if I would have kept up with it if it wasn't for her.
The second is another instructor. She gave me inner strength and belief in myself. I guess this is as good a time as any to write HOW I "beat" the depression I had for 21 years, from 10 to 31 years of age. We were going up a mountain and she had hurt her foot and I wanted her to lean on me for support but she's tough as nails and declined (can't blame her there, I'd probably have declined also). So I was there walking behind her. I will always remember that moment. I thought of myself, why should she lean on me? If I want her to be able to lean on me I have to be stronger than her. I have to be worthy of having her lean on me, so to speak. I have to be stronger than her (at moments) for her to lean on me because you wouldn't lean on someone weaker than you (at the moment) because then you'd both just fall to the ground. So, walking there behind her looking at her heels striking the ground, I made a decision. I could never be depressed again. I had to be strong. I wanted her to lean on me so I had to be stronger than her. And I haven't been depressed since. It's not that I won't be depressed any more, it's that I can't be depressed anymore. And I think there's a huge difference in that. She gave me that, and believing in myself, and trusting myself, and never giving up.
The third instructor has been there since pretty much the beginning of the group classes (October as opposed to September 2009). When I started running on January 2010 I couldn't run 30 seconds. I started running at the LVAC indoor track. Out of all the instructors she was the one I chose, for some reason, to "accompany" me in my runs. Maybe it was because she always said "you can do anything twice." There are four lap clocks in the track attached to the ceiling, in the middle of each stretch. It would take me about 30 seconds to get from clock to clock, and about two minutes for the whole track, and it's 5.5 times per mile, so I guess I was doing an 11-minute mile, which doesn't sound terribly bad when you think about it. And it was because of her that I hung on many times and I was able to run 30 seconds, then one minute, then two minutes. Her and the person above got me running.
Friday, July 16, 2010
Monday, June 21st, 2010, through Sunday, July 4th, 2010 (Yep, 2-weeker, but a bit of stuff)
Well, I'm writing this on Tuesday the 29th and have quite a bit of stuff to catch up on. Lots of thoughts and feelings to write about. So I'm just going to take it one thing at a time.
I'll start with Father's Day (the 20th) since I didn't write about it there. Father's Day was really hard, and I was not expecting that. I would have thought the anniversary of his death would have been worse, but nope, it was freaking Father's Day. I think that's going to be my hard day of the year. And I had already gone through one fatherless Father's Day but I guess I was in too much of a shock since it had only been 22 days since he passed away the first go-around. And Facebook was full of people wishing each other Happy Father's Day and it just got to be too much and for the first time that I can remember I sought out exercise to make me feel better. I left the house and I went to the gym. Took Melina for the first time. First instructor in months that gave me 600+ calories (601). I used to do 600's when I was heavier but not for a while. Most give me 430-470, Kathy gives me high 500's consistently, but Melina gave me 601. Got a nice Zumba buzz and it was the best way to beat the Father's Day blues. That day was a complete surprise to me, though. I am in no way over the grieving process, it turns out.
The depression has been gone since 5/22/10. Nowadays I don't even have to fight it off, it doesn't come. Never say never but I will never be depressed again, I will fight it off, but haven't had to fight it off for a couple of weeks.
And this will close this off. On to the next week, where I discuss the marathon, even though it happened on 6/26.
I'll start with Father's Day (the 20th) since I didn't write about it there. Father's Day was really hard, and I was not expecting that. I would have thought the anniversary of his death would have been worse, but nope, it was freaking Father's Day. I think that's going to be my hard day of the year. And I had already gone through one fatherless Father's Day but I guess I was in too much of a shock since it had only been 22 days since he passed away the first go-around. And Facebook was full of people wishing each other Happy Father's Day and it just got to be too much and for the first time that I can remember I sought out exercise to make me feel better. I left the house and I went to the gym. Took Melina for the first time. First instructor in months that gave me 600+ calories (601). I used to do 600's when I was heavier but not for a while. Most give me 430-470, Kathy gives me high 500's consistently, but Melina gave me 601. Got a nice Zumba buzz and it was the best way to beat the Father's Day blues. That day was a complete surprise to me, though. I am in no way over the grieving process, it turns out.
The depression has been gone since 5/22/10. Nowadays I don't even have to fight it off, it doesn't come. Never say never but I will never be depressed again, I will fight it off, but haven't had to fight it off for a couple of weeks.
And this will close this off. On to the next week, where I discuss the marathon, even though it happened on 6/26.
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Monday, June 14th, 2010, through Sunday, June 20th, 2010 (Father's Day).
Saturday Night: I've been working a lot on the book and hence been neglecting the blog. The book will come first but I will work on the blog also. I just passed 10K words after 25 days, 401 words a day, target of 277. In less than nine months I could have a book. It's kind of like having a child in a way.
Haven't slept well this week so boot camp has been uneven and haven't really had a GOOD day. Friday went to the crapper when we hiked instead of running and I got lost at the end. But I went up a hill, found the nearest set of buildings, and started walking there. Got to the area where we run to the hill, get a rock, and bring it back in teams (later called "the wash" by Eyes) and I had spotted the highway when they found me in the Hummer. I didn't have any water with me so I wasn't running. I would have made it all the way back to the park.
I tried to do a 24.59 or better 5K today but failed and did 28.5X, less than a minute and a half more from my personal best. And I realized something.
I've lost that killer instinct. Like I really wanted that 25 5K but I knew I wasn't going to do it yesterday, I just knew, the same way I new I was going to do a sub-30 5K the previous time. And I was happy just showing up, moving, running, living. I've lost that cutthroat instinct. I'll still try, but I'm happy just showing up. And I don't necessarily think it's a bad change. I feel I've changed inside and that hunger is gone and there's just a peace and complacency and happiness. And we're talking less than 4 minutes difference from what I wanted and from what I got.
But somehow I feel REALLY good about the marathon next Saturday. Just as I felt I wasn't going to do the 25 5K, I feel that I will do the marathon without stopping/walking. And if I had to choose between the two I'd rather do the marathon. I guess I feel good enough that I can just show up and consistently do under-30 5Ks. And you may do everything right - rest, food, etc., and still have a sucky day (but I only slept 2 hours or so yesterday, might think about melatonin, I have trouble falling asleep).
Until I started going to bc I wouldn't initiate hugs. And the reason for that would be two-fold. First, who was I to think that I was worth enough to be the one starting it and second who would ever want to hug me? Call center job, living at home with mom, no husband or kids, in debt... up to 7/3/09 my life was a failure. I was a failure. I have called my reflection in the mirror a loser.
I always felt I had to keep doing stuff for people because I saw what they brought into the relationship but who could possibly want me just for me. My whole life has been about waiting until I do something wrong and mess up the relationship. Because it always happens, people leave. I wondered sometimes if I myself would be my friend, and half the time I wasn't sure.
For the first time in my life I am really developing a sense of self-worth. Takes times but big changes take time. Today, just feeling I'm good at something, anything, is good enough me.
Haven't slept well this week so boot camp has been uneven and haven't really had a GOOD day. Friday went to the crapper when we hiked instead of running and I got lost at the end. But I went up a hill, found the nearest set of buildings, and started walking there. Got to the area where we run to the hill, get a rock, and bring it back in teams (later called "the wash" by Eyes) and I had spotted the highway when they found me in the Hummer. I didn't have any water with me so I wasn't running. I would have made it all the way back to the park.
I tried to do a 24.59 or better 5K today but failed and did 28.5X, less than a minute and a half more from my personal best. And I realized something.
I've lost that killer instinct. Like I really wanted that 25 5K but I knew I wasn't going to do it yesterday, I just knew, the same way I new I was going to do a sub-30 5K the previous time. And I was happy just showing up, moving, running, living. I've lost that cutthroat instinct. I'll still try, but I'm happy just showing up. And I don't necessarily think it's a bad change. I feel I've changed inside and that hunger is gone and there's just a peace and complacency and happiness. And we're talking less than 4 minutes difference from what I wanted and from what I got.
But somehow I feel REALLY good about the marathon next Saturday. Just as I felt I wasn't going to do the 25 5K, I feel that I will do the marathon without stopping/walking. And if I had to choose between the two I'd rather do the marathon. I guess I feel good enough that I can just show up and consistently do under-30 5Ks. And you may do everything right - rest, food, etc., and still have a sucky day (but I only slept 2 hours or so yesterday, might think about melatonin, I have trouble falling asleep).
Until I started going to bc I wouldn't initiate hugs. And the reason for that would be two-fold. First, who was I to think that I was worth enough to be the one starting it and second who would ever want to hug me? Call center job, living at home with mom, no husband or kids, in debt... up to 7/3/09 my life was a failure. I was a failure. I have called my reflection in the mirror a loser.
I always felt I had to keep doing stuff for people because I saw what they brought into the relationship but who could possibly want me just for me. My whole life has been about waiting until I do something wrong and mess up the relationship. Because it always happens, people leave. I wondered sometimes if I myself would be my friend, and half the time I wasn't sure.
For the first time in my life I am really developing a sense of self-worth. Takes times but big changes take time. Today, just feeling I'm good at something, anything, is good enough me.
I've been thinking about feeling confident enough in yourself without developing an ego. I really feel a change happening inside and I really think I like who I am becoming. I don't think I have much of a say as to what my core substance is but luckily it seems to be something I can live it and even embrace. I'm developing a sense of peace as opposed to this frenzied pace all the time, but still being able to compete. Show up, compete, try to win or get a personal best, but be happy just showing up and be happy without having to compete all the time. I don't need a number to feel good about myself.
I did reach a new low weight, 138.5 lbs.
More on all of this later but at least I felt I'm caught up on the blog. Some weeks will have more general thoughts like this one as opposed to structured. I AM back to wearing the BodyBugg, more on that later just because I have to get ready for work.
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