Well, wow. I’m thrilled and more than a little surprised at the immediate improvements in how I feel (joints aren’t achy, sinuses aren’t clogged, head doesn’t hurt). I’d been forcing myself to eat animal protein despite having to gag it down. It did nothing positive for my longstanding eating issues. Instead, I’d find myself feeling numb while I ate, and consequently eating too much, too wrong, and too often. Beginning Friday, September 16, I’ve eliminated dairy, meat, seafood, poultry, etc. My diet consists of vegetables, fruit, whole grains, beans, potatoes, and soy or rice milk when cooking. I’m eating an estimated 1200 calories per day (tracking on myfitnesspal.com) and this morning I was 5.4 lbs lighter than when I began. I should mention that last week was a serious PMS week and yet I’m not bloated. That alone is worth it! I do find myself forgetting that everyone in the house isn’t eating exactly as I am, and I struggle to find animal protein choices for them at the last minute. Fortunately, they love salmon and I’ve got plenty frozen that can be baked easily.
I’m in Denver for business for part of this week. There’s snow. It’s pretty. ‘Nuff said.
No complaints about Denver – the people are great and we’re in a swanky-ish hotel. I’m making healthy eating choices and the gym here rocks. But I just read SUAR’s post about her daughter and now I’m missing my kiddos even more than normal. We spoke on the phone tonight but that’s never really a good substitute for a hug & a kiss goodnight. I miss the little turkeys, even if I do enjoy sleeping in a bed without Nicholas’ foot in my face or my abdomen.
So I’ve been thinking it probably seems weird that my blog is still titled See Judi Run when I had such a hiatus from the sport. Here’s the scoop on why: March 29 (yes I know the date because it was our 7th wedding anniversary and we were hosting a cookout), I returned from a run behind our house on the trail by the bayou. My wonderful trusty yellow lab, Emma, was with me and she got excited and took off — literally off the trail — and instead of dropping the leash I thought it would be fun to sprint the last few hundred feet. We were *that* close to home. Only I didn’t make it because my left foot went into a 6″ deep hole and my body kept moving with the 90lb lab. yeah, ouch.
I sent the kids to find Joel while I sat there looking at my rapidly swelling foot. Eventually it was discovered he was out inviting people over to the cookout (it was impromptu) so I hobbled back home. Then I proceeded to spend 6 hours on my feet cooking and hosting and generally hanging out with friends who wanted to help us celebrate not killing or divorcing each other.
It was a good time. It wasn’t good for my foot.
The very next day I took the CLP exam, which required parking 6 blocks from the university building and hopping on one foot since the unsightly purple swollen foot that wouldn’t fit into any shoe but a Croc wasn’t enough to convince the security gal to let me park in one of the 10 unoccupied handicapped spots available. No biggie.
Next day I went to doc’s and after x-ray after x-ray and mri (I think?) it was determined I had torn ligaments. I was told I couldn’t run for 6 mths. Depression set in and I ATE.
As it turned out, that 6 mths turned into almost 2 yrs. It was 6 mths before I could wear flat shoes for more than an hour or two. Then when I went shopping for flats, I found out they were all ugly. More depression = MORE EATING
I went out a time or three with the gals from the Big Red running group at KatyFit (L.O.V.E. them!) but I couldn’t complete the shortest of distances at the slowest of paces without having my foot swell and hurt for days. More depression = MUCH MORE EATING
So here I am now. B.I.G. I don’t recognize myself but I’m doing something about it and change is ongoing. I’ve hired an executive wellness coach (David Greenwalt) I’m eating right. I’m accountable and leveraged (I’m going to lose a lot of something this year and it can be LBs or $$$)
I’m also beginning to run again but it’s like I’ve never done it before. I’m a complete novice except that I remember what it felt like for my body to cover 14 miles (training run/walk but I finished damn it!) It’s still frustrating but I’m doing it.
The Run Less, Run Faster plan for beginners training for a 5k seemed like a wise decision so I’m following it. The 3/2 plan (I think) is my best chance to avoid re-injuring the foot. So far, so good — no pain while running or afterwards. And instead of having a swollen unrecognizable object at the end of my left leg the next morning, I see a foot that’s had all the excess fluid pounded out of it. Soon, very soon, I expect to see muscles in my feet again. I miss them.
So that’s my story. That’s why I call myself a runner even though I don’t vaguely resemble one at the moment. On the inside – the me that only I see – I’m a runner. Not a fast one, but I’m there and I’m going to continue to be one long past the point of anyone looking at me and recognizing my kick ass runner’s legs.
It’s a crazy busy day for me as I leave for Denver tonight. I’m still enjoying Run Like a Mother and I’m reading Run Less, Run Faster (not only reading it but following the new runner – get ready for a 5k program). See, although I have done one half-marathon and used to run pretty regularly, I tore ligaments in my foot 2 yrs ago (or is it 3 now) and I’ve only recently been able to wear heels again, much less run for any sustainable distance or with any consistency.
During the course of being laid up and in flats, I ate my way through the depression that enveloped me and here I am now, trying to lose the poundage and acclimate myself to running again. The very positive good news is….. drumroll please there is NO pain or swelling in said foot when I run.
Sure, I don’t run far and I don’t run fast but I’m reinventing myself as a runner. This is the year of “new Judi runner chick” rather than “old Judi sits on her ass and is bummed she can’t run” model.
Life is good.
Confession: I almost NEVER remember to log my runs at btt and hence my gadget thingie is ridiculously pitiful. There you have it.
I almost forgot! Someone reminded me that confession is good for the soul, so let’s see how many days I can come up with something to share that’s not too out there.
Today’s confession —- I love Nelly’s Just a Dream, but really it’s Nelly I love.
There, I said it out loud, or in print.
Bigger than ever, and yes, that’s literally bigger than I’ve ever been, but I’m back and working on it.
Yes, that’s all for now.
Not much time to post lately, but I’ve been keeping up with my jogging and my cycling. We rode 55 miles this Saturday. The first 17 went fairly quickly and were a really pretty ride. We spent about 10 minutes at the first rest stop, and I downed a hammer gel and half a banana. That seems to be all my stomach tolerates at the stops – unless I’m fortunate enough to find vanilla wafers. (no wonder Nicholas is such a fiend for them! He gets it from his mom!!)
Anyway, feeling good after the first break, despite knowing we’d likely be facing a headwind the entire way back, and we decided to take the longer route – 55 miles v. 41 miles. To date, my longest ride had been that walk through hell called 44.5 miles in Cat Springs. I was not looking forward to a repeat, but considering that the actual 2-day, 160 mile ride is quickly approaching, my mileage needed to go up. So, off we go!
I suppose this is where I admit a bit of an ego stroke in even being able to tackle the longer ride. We’re still seeing people being brought in on SAG vehicles during each of these rides, and even as out of shape as I am, I’ve managed to complete each ride, stand up afterwards (ok, it was TOUGH after Cat Springs), and maneuver myself up and down our stairs the next day with no lingering soreness. The scenery was nice, even the section where we had to cross some rather funky streets with loads of traffic and a stoplight where drivers varied between wanting to let us turn left across the street on a green light rather than waiting on our green arrow. Little did they know, they only pissed off other drivers who were stuck waiting behing them when we wouldn’t venture out into the intersection and the very same drivers remained stuck at the light when we did get our green arrow. ouch! BIG trucks, small shoulders, pissed off folks – it could have made for difficulties, but instead, the people of the town were really cordial and quite accommodating. I think we were in Bellville, but I usually end up so out of it that I don’t know where I am unless I’m looking at a map or a street sign. At any rate, yay for the locals who didn’t run us over! 🙂
The second half of the second leg was the absolute worst stretch of road I’ve ever cycled on. Imagine being in your car and riding directly down the drunk-bumps. bump bump bump bump bump bump bump bump bump bump bump
Holy cow – my quads were screaming by mile 33! Consequently, the second rest-stop wasn’t until mile 39, so I had more screaming quads to live through. My legs cramped, and we spent what was probably too long at the stop, but within .5 mile of getting back on the road, it was finally smooth again. I so badly wanted to scream – yahoo! – upon reaching the 50 mile mark (after all, this was my first time!), but when I hit it, all I could think was, “5 more miles.. c’mon, you can do it!” There was one final climb at the end of the last leg. Approaching a stop sign, climbing up a slight incline, seeing the odometer read 55.4 and thinking, “will this EVER end??” and finally, turning right at the stop sign – THERE IT WAS! The high school where we’d parked our cars that morning.
Thank God! I lived through it!
Hope you’re all doing well – keep running, spinning, or whatever it is that you do!
Seek the joy! !
… in every step and/or pedal stroke, and FINDING IT!
This was such a great weekend. The weather was perfect, Joel was so supportive and helpful on the ride Saturday, and I ran on the dreadmill Sunday and got the benefit of those glorious endorphins. Add to that the joy of watching Hunter and Nicholas running around the yard like little crazy people Sunday morning, and I don’t know how it could have been any better. Seriously, it was just about perfect. [hmmmm.. of course, now I’m wondering if I left clothes in the laundry for the nanny to find! ack!! yea, doing laundry puts a damper on things, but hey, maybe I didn’t start any and will get to do it tonight?? that’s better than the thought of our wonderful caregiver having to find my undies in the washing machine!]
Saturday’s ride was 41.4 miles in Columbus. See the map here. I’ve decided that my earlier boasting to a couple I met on the Cat Springs ride about how I didn’t mind the uphill bits but the downhill ones were the frightful parts for me was nothing but novice-talk! N-O-V-I-C-E-T-A-L-K!!! I’ve learned to love the speed of going downhill, and I maxed out at 38.8 mph this weekend! woohooooo!!!!!
As for the uphill climbs, especially the long, slow tedious ones, there’s not much to say about them except “ouch!” Good grief, I actually had to come out of the saddle on one of them. Talk about burning the glutes!! I did, however, see other folks who had to walk their bikes up the same hill, so it could have been worse, I suppose.
Sunday’s run was inside since I wasn’t really sure how far I wanted to go, and I was certain I needed to get downstairs and do some ab work on the ball. I ran 1 mile (no walking – go me!), walked 1/8 mile, and ran another mile (no walking!). This, too, seems very novice, I’m sure. I’m okay with that.
In talking to Joel on Friday evening, I realized that I don’t have any desire to be an elite athlete (yea, like that’s a huge surprise to anyone that reads of my sporadic attemps at athleticism! haha). I simply want to do fun stuff. I want to be healthier. I want to pattern good habits for my kids. My running and riding won’t save the world, but if it puts a smile on my face, it’ll go a long way toward making life more pleasant for the people around me. Having him better understand my goals and why he shouldn’t push me toward goals that are NOT mine is a huge step forward for us. I have to give him credit – he really listened to me when we talked. He HEARD what I was saying. The whole conversation began because he wanted to let me know he’d try to be more “tolerant” of my weaknesses this weekend. That might seem a bit odd, but he’s been pushing me to achieve what he thinks I can – and who knows, maybe it’s possible? But the result has been that it’s made me feel attacked and subsequently, angry, and I’ve been ready to throw up my hands and walk away from it. Things have been tense and I haven’t enjoyed the experiences like I’d like to.
I do think I shocked him when I said I wanted to do the long rides, but I’ll go at my pace (and he can go at his much quicker one – I don’t want to hold him back) and probably stop and take pictures along the way. He got this dumbfounded look on his face and explained that the people he knows who ride do it to go train and then get home. Okay, good for them. They compete. This is part of a regimen for them. I’m not competing, and I don’t want to. My work life is so stressful and I compete so hard to be *elite* there that I want some place to just have fun. Running and riding is that place for me now. Thanks to Joel’s finally understanding and accepting my approach to it all, it was even more fun than I’d imagined. To his credit, I don’t think I’d ever tried to tell him what I hoped to get out of this. We really screw up the communication bit of our marriage sometimes, but boy, when we get it right, we do it so well!
I love my husband. He’s a good guy (and he’s pretty hot in his cycling gear!)