Whoa-Oh, Halfway there...(60 Lbs. Down)

 

Six months, 60 pounds lost.  I am now halfway to my goal of losing 120 pounds.

Whoa.  60 pounds.  Six-ty.

I am currently at a weight I don't think I've ever been in my adult life.  At my current rate, I may be under 200 lbs by the end of winter.  I'm having a hard time parsing that.  I have never NOT been fat, as far as I can remember.

Like I said, whoa.

I  recognize the changes in my body in terms of movement.  I am able to go up stairs without a shortness of breath.  I am not feeling pain in my knees, or my back, as much as I used to.  I've increased my level of activity.  I'm walking almost 3 miles a day,  and working out in the mornings.  I'm also able to do things I haven't before.  This morning, I was able to do tricep dips off the end of my couch, raising my body up using just my arms.  Previously I would skip that exercise, but now I can do multiple reps.  I'm also getting closer to grabbing my foot behind my back for a quad stretch, something for years I've attributed to having short arms and failing at.

I have also noticed that I am getting looked at in the eye more.  At first when I noticed it happening, I thought it was because I had something on my face.  Then I wondered if it was my purple lipstick I was wearing.  After a few weeks of this, it dawned on me:  people were meeting me in the eye more as I lost weight.  I wanted to shake that idea away as foolishness, but I'm here to tell you it is happening more, and it is still creeping me out.  This is different than the stares of people when they think you're not paying attention.  That's not meeting another human being's face.  I've lived so long in this world as a fat person, I know the difference.  If you do not fit society's "norms," then you are not to be looked at directly, rather to be gawked at.

I want to be upset at this realization.  But...there is this tiny, small part of me, the grade school girl that got taunted, that is saying "Yay!  They're looking at us!  I finally fit in now!  I'm considered part of society!"

Again, whoa.

This is all part of the challenges in my brain of trying to balance out my current path, with my beliefs of Health at Every Size (HAES).  I want to make sure throughout my journey I keep saying that, because I do not EVER want my journey to be any anti-obesity or fat-shaming lesson.  For me, and ONLY me, I was not healthy at my size.  My body was starting to wear out, and I needed to take care of it and find the size I am healthy at.

Why, then, am I showing the pictures of when I started the journey, and where I am now, like a before-and-after?  Because I am proud of my efforts.  The benefit to losing weight and getting in shape is finding clothes that fit better. It is not lost on me that while I may be fitting better in lower-sized clothing, could it be that it is because the variety of clothing is better tailored at the lower sizes?

Additionally I want to stop downplaying all the work I've done getting this far.  Trust me, I keep trying to.   Whenever someone congratulates or cheers me on, I find myself making excuses for not making it a big deal. I've realized this may be in some part, a form of  Imposter Syndrome, that if people call attention to my achievement I may be "found out" as a fraud.  That using Weight Watchers is "cheating;"  That working out to Biggest Loser videos isn't "really working out."  That really, at the end of the day, I don't "fit in."

The reconciliation of all of these things is part of my journey.  I am aware of that, and figuring it out.  I don't know if I will need to seek help beyond friends and Connect (Weight Watcher's in-app community) to resolve it.

But for now, for today?  I want to brag,

 I HAVE LOST 60 POUNDS!

  I have worked REALLY REALLY HARD at it!  

...and I am NOT DONE! 

This is 40

Charms, L-R: Red spacer from my Mother's jewelry collection; a Dragonfly (gift from cousins); blue spacer from Ma's collection; my WW 20 lb charm; my 40-lb loss reward, a TARDIS!

I've hit another loss milestone.  I've lost forty pounds. The newest charm is a TARDIS, which has multiple meanings for me.  It's one of the first TV shows I remember my Mom watching, and it scared me (the theme music and the "guy in the wheelchair," that I now know as Davros!).  It's a favorite show of me & my husband, who has been so amazing and supportive of me on this journey.  We nicknamed our current home the "TARDIS on the Charles," because of it's location on the river and how it looks so much bigger once you step inside.

We'll be leaving the TARDIS soon for a new home, and I wanted a reminder of the house that we started our family in, and how far we've come since then.  It's the same on this journey of better health and weight loss.  I don't ever want to forget where I've been.  And not out of a fear of "ever going back," but more of an appreciation of who I was at the weight I was at that time.

I have been struggling with the challenge of dealing with external negativity., in different forms:

Passive Aggressive  - and downright aggressive - WW hate:  It's interesting to see the increase of articles posted on social media  since I've come out about using Weight Watchers. Links about diet plans that don't work long-term (think the Biggest Loser contestants), and specifically about Weight Watchers relying on people failing at weight loss and coming back as a revenue stream. I've also started seeing comments on the new SmartPoints system, and how it's worse than the old one, and even a few comments on how it's unhealthy.

I can't argue with numbers of the WW stock going down, or membership numbers down.  But I'm also not sure what that has to do with the HUNDREDS of people I see on  Connect (the WW social feed in their app) that are succeeding, and the people making Lifetime membership and maintaining.

I also can tell you I've felt the best about my eating than I have in a long, LOOONG time.  On this journey I have room to indulge in not-so-healthy-for-me choices in that I can plan for, and NOT feel guilty or beat myself up.  I am learning to make choices, and I'm also understanding the effects of those choices.  I'm learning a life plan, not a quick weight-loss diet plan.

And then there was the salesperson at GNC that trash-talked WW as well, saying "I just can't see how using a point system really works in losing weight."  While trying to upsell me an expensive protein bar instead of my beloved Quest bars, which according to him were filled with artificial sweeteners and worse for my body.  I angrily told him "well, it works for me as I've lost 35 pounds so far," and stormed out of the store, never going back.

Non-Scale Vicory (NSV): This is a shirt I didn't fit in over a year ago.
 Look at how WW "just doesn't work."  Right.

Clean eating vs. "Chemicals."  Posts about how it isn't "real" success unless you've done it without using artificial sweeteners/chemical-filled foods/anything other than "natural" food.  Posts criticizing people eating Halo Top ice cream and other brands of food, even going so far to calling it "cheating!"  What?   I think it's no one's business but their own on what they're eating, and who am I to tell them it's right or wrong?

Weight Loss Surgery vs. Weight Loss Plan/Dieting  I am admitting here; I have in the past been EXTREMELY judgmental with some people on getting WLS in order to lose their weight, and felt a bit smug that I was doing it "the right way."  I was wrong to think that.  SO.  WRONG.  The stories I've read of people struggling the same struggles I have, and the hope and miracles that WLS did for them, and reading the stories on Connect, and I get it now.  It's opened my eyes, and I needed to check my own privilege.

I am SO tired of the gatekeeping around weight loss and getting healthy. What is it saying about ourselves that we not only pass judgement who should and shouldn't lose weight, but then decide it's "real," only on the terms that we decide are acceptable?  Nope, it doesn't work that way.

If you, not society, not a fatphobic doctor, not anyone else, feel like you should make movement and/or weight changes to your body?  DO WHAT WORKS FOR YOU.  Walking.  Running.  Sweatin' to the Oldies. YOU do YOU.  And I'll be here, rooting for you!

Reward System

At my Mother's memorial gathering, two of my cousins gifted me a charm bracelet with a dragonfly charm, and a copy of The Dragonfly Story to explain the significance.   I've decided to use this bracelet as part of my reward system for the newest path on my journey to wellness.

One of the reasons I'm losing doing this is because of my mom.  She died of endometrial cancer, This particular type of cancer feeds on estrogen.  If you're overweight, guess what gets stored in fat?  Estrogen!   Even though my doctor told me this type of cancer isn't hereditary, I don't want to take chances.

The Weight Watchers app has a great social feature called Connect, and you can see how other people using WW are doing in terms of working the point system, great recipe hacks, success stories, and sharing strength with those that need it. There's also been posts about a reward system.  In the past, I've felt awkward creating or thinking up ways to "reward" myself for weight loss.  For some reason, I felt that I shouldn't reward what I felt was cleaning up the mess that is my body and weight.  Or that if I did do a reward system, and I earned a reward, my inner critic would find some way to discredit it.

This time, I decided to work with those uncomfortable feelings, as I have found that it might be uncomfortable because it's a challenge, and therefore an opportunity to learn.   I wanted to learn to reward myself, and to celebrate getting healthy.

I made a checklist, in five-pound intervals.  I decided every 20 pounds would be a larger milestone, and deserve a bigger reward:  a charm on the bracelet.  I would be able to wear my accomplishment and see it, in order to be reminded of the path and goals I've set for myself, and to also have my Mom there, giving me her strength and rooting me on from beyond.  Here's my list, which I started late in the game so started at 15 lbs:

• 15 lbs: Markers for coloring  - DONE!
• 20: New Charm for Bracelet  - DONE!
• 25: Nail Polish 
• 30: Zen Embroidery kit 
• 35: New Boots (This will also be a milestone for another number on the scale)
• 40: Charm for Bracelet 
• 45: Lipstick  
• 50: Mani/Pedi 
• 55: Music Album 
• 60: Charm for Bracelet  
• 65: Board Game 
• 70: Graphic Novel 
• 75: Facial 
• 80: Charm for Bracelet  
• 85: Flower Bouquet 
• 90: Book 
• 95: Adirondack Chair  
• 100:Charm for Bracelet  
• 105: Vera Bradley Bag 
• 110:  GOAL!!!! - Charm!!!

I earned my first reward, the markers, and I went to Target and got myself a modest, 12-pen set.  It had been something I had wanted, but now instead of zipping to the store to get it, I waited until I earned it.  I also realized one of the ways I used to reward myself for healthy accomplishments (running, 5ks) was with food.  I ran enough to eat that cake, or I walked around the Boston Common and Garden at lunch, so I can have that extra taco.  For me, those aren't rewards anymore; that's self-sabotage.

As you can see in the photo, I've now earned my first 20-lb loss reward; a Wonder Woman charm.  Those that have been reading this blog and have seen my costumes for 5Ks and sci-fi conventions, should not be surprised.  Wonder Woman has always been a symbol of strength for me, so it had to be the first charm, to be right next to my "Ma" charm.  I don't think it's a coincidence the initials are "WW."

I'm also going to admit, I'm loving getting rewards.   As much as I love the positive feedback from friends and family, rewarding myself is part of self-care I've ignored or not done appropriately.  Learning to do this I think will help me this time stick with this, and get the rest of these things on the list!

Reboot and an Upgrade

Three years' hiatus is a long time in the blogoshpere.  No one reads a blog that doesn't update, and a blogger won't write unless there's an audience.  The blog eventually becomes an inert part of the WorldWideWeb.

I have many reasons this blog went without updates for so long:  Two kids and a full-time job; senior-level staff convention running; two job changes; injuries that prevented exercise;  but most of all, losing both parents and  then the will for self-care.

When my father passed in December of 2013, it was a shock.  When my mother passed this past January, it was at the end of a ferocious battle with cancer. Both of these events were to be expected, but the timing and circumstances didn't lend to coping.  Also?  I don't think you can  ever be prepared to lose your parents.

A lot of coping came in the form of comfort food (oh, so MUCH yummy comfort food), and alcohol.  I also took a job that was remote, so I was working from home and sitting much more than I used to.  At first, I was able to get out and exercise on lunch breaks or early in the morning, but as the job and workload went on my free time was squeezed out.  An increase of travel meant eating out more, and grabbing what you could when you could.

A wake-up call for me was in mid-April. I hurt my left knee pretty bad, to the point of having to go see an orthopedist surgeon and receive a cortisone shot.  He found arthritis, a torn meniscus, and a bone spur:

As I lamented while limping around wearing a brace, a very good, dear friend that saves peoples' lives for a living (they're a doctor), was sending me messages, offering advice for pain management, and finally gave me some advice for taking care of my knees that included losing some weight to alleviate pressure on the knee joints.  According to my doctor friend, even losing 11 pounds would make a large difference to my leg-bender parts.

While lying on the couch fighting a stomach bug, an ad for Weight Watchers came on TV.  Up until now, I had mixed feelings about signing up for any weight loss program.  For people perceived to be outside the societal norms for weight, there is this weird, fucked-up paradox that includes weight loss attempts to be sources of humor and pessimism.  Society has no problem telling you you're fat, and that you're unhealthy and ordering you to "do something about it," and at the same time it also has no problem yelling mean things out a window at a chubby person out for a jog, or laughing when they mention joining a weight-loss system.  I see it on social media, I've had it happen to me personally.  

There's also the fear of alienating and losing your other overweight friends.  You're considered a traitor to the "Healthy at Every Size," movement if you talk about losing weight.  Mentioning joining WW or Jenny Craig, or any of those programs, will get a quiet, non-enthusiastic response of "oh," a passive-aggressive way of saying "so you're caving in to society, and leaving us in the fight for fat acceptance."  I know this because I've been like this and said this, and been in conversations this has been said.

And here's where the messed-up thinking that forms the inner bully comes in, trying to convince you that joining something like WW is nothing more than another point of possible failure, or even worse...ridicule and negativity comments.

That's right.  I would rather NOT join WW, something I would be doing to preserve my health, so not to upset OTHERS.  This has been part of my self-sabotaging MO most of my life:  putting others' needs and feelings before mine.  I am realizing now this has to stop, in order to save at least my knees, if not my life:

I decided to sign up for Weight Watchers online program that day.  I do not regret it.

It has NOT been easy.  The first two weeks were stressful, trying to fit my usual eating into the point plan of the program.  I constantly went over the allotments, flew through the weekly buffer points, leaving me feeling like I was failing.  The thing is, I wasn't failing, and in fact, I think I needed to have those weeks of going over the points to have the realization of my own habits.  I was overeating, and even if I thought I was eating healthy, in reality I was loading up on sugars and carbs.  Pretty sneaky, Weight Watchers...teaching me lessons through a point-system!

Then there's the social aspect of the program.  If you use the Connections part of the mobile app (and a downloadable program for the computer), you have a supportive social network of people all trying to do the same thing you are.  What has been helping me is seeing I'm not the only one that wants to lose over 100 pounds.  Most of my social circle that wants to lose weight isn't in that range so it's hard to have that shared experience.  Seeing others' success stories and struggles helps keep me motivated and finding kindred spirits to connect to.  It has also been a lifesaver in finding tips and tricks to, as one member says, "eat like a fat kid and still lose weight."

An unexpected enjoyment is the gamification and room for creativity in this process.  For example, during the warm weather, I love my flavored ice coffees from Dunkies and Starbucks.  Lots of calories to drink in those.  I was horrified to see that even the Mini S'Mores Frappucino that I adore was over 200 calories!  With nonfat milk!  I've now discovered the joy of adding the bottled Skinny Caramel Macchiato to my coffee, with little caloric impact, and still get something yummy.  Last night, while the family had pizza delivery, I made myself a tortilla pizza and a lightened-up Cesear salad.  I didn't feel like I was sacrificing anything; in fact, I love thin crust over regular crust, so I was TOTALLY getting what I wanted anyway! 

I've now been on the plan for over a month. I've lost 18 lbs.  My knee is feeling SO much better, and now I'm  looking into ways to get more exercise.  I may start up my Daily Burn account.  I also have a mini stationary cycle that I'm trying to use in the mornings while watching TV, and allowing myself only to watch certain shows when I'm cycling (Kimmy Schmidt is the current show).

I'm at a point where I also want to get more mindful of this, and incorporate it into getting back into finding myself and my bliss.  I'm inspired by Wil Wheaton's 'Rebooting' process, I want to make my own list, but not call it a reboot.  This blog is definitely  reboot, but as a geek, I feel my current path is more of an upgrade.  

I'll be posting my progress here. It's not the same path when I was running (thanks knee!), but it's still a journey about health all the same.  Let's see where it goes.

Starting Weight: 285

Current Weight: 267

Goal Weight: 165

Don't Diss Your BFF

 

Have you ever had a friend that let you down?  You would make plans to meet for lunch, then at the last minute, they would call and cancel?  Or constantly reschedule plans over and over, until it just never happened?  Most likely, you disassociated yourself from that person.  You deserve to be treated with more respect for your time, and to be appreciated as a friend, right?

If you wouldn't take it from a friend...why take that treatment from yourself? That's the epiphany I had on a morning walk last week.  I work from home on Mondays, so instead of my usual lap around the Boston Common and Public Gardens, I went out in my neighborhood.  As I walked down the road that I used to run, I was almost giddy with the familiarity of the path.  I swear, I could FEEL my legs begging to run.  I wasn't in the proper shoes or clothing, so I just picked up my walking pace instead.

As I walked, I reviewed what had happened to my running training.   For the most part, it stopped during the cold dark winter mornings.  As it got warmer and lighter, I still snuggled under the covers.  I found excuse after excuse not to get up.  Recovering from a cold.  Getting to be late the night before.  The kids are up early.  It's only Tuesday, I've got a few more days in the week to make up the workout I'm missing.

That's when it hit me.  If a friend was blowing me off like that?  I'd be pissed, and probably stop talking to them.  Why then, do I l treat myself that way?  When it comes to fitness and health, you need to be your own Best Friend.  When you feel like sleeping through one more snooze button, imagine what you would tell your friend who you made running plans with that morning.  If you sit on the couch and watch the morning news instead of exercising with your workout DVD, imagine the conversation, "I'm sorry we didn't get together.  I was too busy watching the news."  You deserve better treatment from yourself.

To that end, I'm not saying that you become a Drill Instructor either.  In fact, being your own friend is just the opposite.  When I hurt my foot, and I wasn't able to work out as much, I was beating myself up, and felt like a wimp for not "getting back on the horse" quicker.  If that was one of my friends telling me they were mad at themselves I would not allow them to be so hard on themselves.  So why should I let myself, beat ME up?

WRONG: "What are you doing still in bed?  I don't care you have a sprained calf muscle!"

We are our worst critics and enemies.  If we are to succeed at being healthy...hell, at ANYTHING, we need to become our biggest supporters.   And with any successful relationship, it starts with just being friends.

Boston Strong

I get to say hello to Mama and her ducklings (who live in the Boston Public Gardens) during my lunchtime walks.

The Boston Marathon used to be background noise for a day off when I was growing up.   When I started working in town, a bunch of us would walk down Boylston and hang out at the Purple Cactus' patio bar and cheer on the stragglers (this was back when the race started at noon).

And then my social circle started running.  a 5k here, 10k there, then one of us hit the big show:  The Boston Marathon.  I was so giddy and happy and proud for her, I took the day off, and cheered her on in Natick and Boston.  In front of Lord & Taylor, to be exact.  She has a picture of us from that day, cheering her on behind the barrier.  I was five months pregnant with my son.  I won't share that photo here, because I do not want to associate that image during that wonderful day and her amazing accomplishment with what happened this year at the Marathon.

If you live or work in Boston, it's hard not to have any association with Boylston Street.  I've bought running sneakers in that Marathon Sports that's currently missing windows.  During my walks in the Common and Garden last week, I would hit the corner of Arlington and Boylston Streets, and see the gaggle of news vans, and the barricade.  I didn't stop, I kept going.  I did not want to gawk at the tragedy.  I was already overwhelmed with the events of that day.

I know, It's hard not to be overwhelmed if you have any association of affection for Boston.  The first time I saw where the bombs went off, I played the what if? game.  What if I had done my usual Patriot's Day activities, and went to the Red Sox game, then walked over to watch the race?  What if....   But, that didn't happen.

I wish I didn't have the images of that day in my mind.   I had just put down the kids for an afternoon nap, hoping they were exhausted from their trip to the park.  My daughter had asked if we could watch "more runners on TV."  That morning, we had all watched the start of the race.  She asked where her Daddy was in the race.  "No, Sweetie, Daddy's not running in this race, he's at work."  We all cheered the wheelchair race winner, then went on with our day.

I grabbed the remote and flipped on the TV, to have it on in the background while I tidied up from the kiddo tornado.  "If you are just tuning in..." the news anchor started.  I looked up, and saw the carnage on Boylston Street.  I ran for the phone, and called my husband.  I was shaken, and horrified, and needed another grownup to talk to.  He couldn't see the scene, and so was not as upset.  "Turn off the TV," he told me.  Instead, I told him I loved him, and then called my parents in OR.  I wanted to make sure they knew I was nowhere near Boston.  My mother and I watched the helicopter footage together.

More calls, more texts from people.  Who was there?  Was anyone we knew running?  The scariest game of Bo-Peep played while phone lines and websites were overloaded.  Friends and acquaintances we knew running were all accounted for.  Little ones woke up, and the television went off.  A lot of hugging happened.

Bostonians are resilient people.  We've stood up to bullying and fear before.  We lace up our boots, push up our sleeves, and say "That all you got?"  We also try not to do a lot of dwelling on things, and move forward when bad stuff happens.  We move on, we move forward.

The city is a lot calmer this week.  There's a lot less AR-15s walking around Government Center.  The news vans are gone.  Boylston Street  is open for business.  I decided to take some of that move forward energy and apply it to my fitness.

This morning I got up early, and went for a walk.  That became intervals between walking and running.  It felt good (so good, so good, SO GOOD).  The adrenaline rushing, being able to get out all that stress from these past two weeks, the anger, the fear, the panic.

We are Boston Strong!

Winter of Discontent

"Winter is Coming."

The month of February has not been kind to me or my family.  This has left working out in quite the mess.

First, we had a blizzard.  This meant school closures, and me not having time to work out.  However, there was shovelling, and pulling the little ones around in sleds:

Then, we had illnesses in our house.  First me, then the kids.  My illness left me not able to exercise, and the middle-of the night sessions with sick kids also did not help.  At that point, more rest for the body was more important than getting up to work out.

So finally, FINALLY, this past Monday I was able to get up and work out.  The week before I bought a new workout DVD, I found in the clearance aisle:

"Really, just 30 days of jumping, that's it."

I popped the DVD in, and selected the 10-minute cardio level one. I hadn't worked out in about two weeks, this would be a good way to start, right?  The workout is done by contestants, no BL Trainers in sight.  They go into a "warm-up," a term I use very, VERY loosely.  It was all upper body, wave your arms around, reach for the sky type of thing.  That was my first warning that something wasn't right.  We're going to be doing some cardio, right?  Shouldn't we do some leg warmups?

It then goes right into the "cardio blast" workout.  It was bad, really bad.  A LOT of jumping up and down, and about 8 minutes into it, I stopped.  My knees weren't happy, and it just did not feel like a workout.  But, did I think it was a bad DVD?  No, not at the time.  At the time that residual Evil Gym Teacher in my head was telling me "It's a professional video!  You're just out of shape, that's why it was hard!"

By the afternoon, I was walking with a limp.  The next morning, I could barely walk on one foot.  My heel was in so much pain I was hobbling around.  As I reflected on the previous mornings' workout, I saw two problems with what I did:

1. I did the workout without shoes on.  I haven't had a problem with the other DVDs, but there was not a lot of jumping up in down in those.  Not having shock absorbers pretty much wrecked my heel and my calf muscles for awhile.
2. I didn't listen to myself.  I knew the workout wasn't safe.  I knew something didn't feel right, but instead I doubted my knowledge of smart/safe working out because I still don't acknowledge that I CAN know these things, even though I'm obese.

I'm keeping myself on the DL until my calf muscles stop twinging in pain, which will probably be the rest of this week.  When I start up again Monday, I will go with what I know is smart: warming up, not too much repetitive motion that feels strained, TRUST MY INSTINCTS AND KNOWLEDGE.  Oh, and tossing that DVD in the trash.

Clothes, Clothes, Everywhere...and Not a Thing to Wear

I've heard being a tween isn't easy.  You're not a little kid, but you're not a teenager yet either.  I am finding this frustration in another form of 'tween:  sizes.

What you see above is the final assembly of an outfit five minutes before walking out the door to work.  Before that there was a half-hour of frustration which became me in tears, and seriously asking my husband if it would be wrong to take a sick day.  That's right:  I contemplated a sick day because I couldn't find anything to wear. 

I am right now in between sizes.  22s make me look baggy and frumpy, and doesn't show off the accomplishments of my hard work.  20s are just a smidge too tight, and make me look like that woman from Steel Magnolias, the one that looked like "two pigs wrasslin' under a blanket."  After trying on outfit #10, and being talked off the sick day ledge from my understanding husband, I put this together.   Then my three-year-old skipped past me, also wearing leggings under a skirt.  Dear lord, I've resorted to dressing myself like a preschooler.

This is such a hard time when you're working to get fit and therefore go down in sizes.  You don't necessarily want to spend the money on clothes that will just be a waystation before you lose more weight and need more clothes.  On the other hand, wearing the larger sizes just isn't flattering anymore.  It makes you look larger than you are, and the ill-fitting clothes aren't as appropriate for work.

What's important is exactly what my sweetie told me this morning as he kissed tears off my cheeks:  "Do NOT get discouraged."  This is part of the process. There are solutions. I'll be going through clothes bins I have in the basement, and see if I have more size-appropriate clothing.  If not, I'll hit the local thrift stores (Savers, Goodwill) and heck, even Target or Old Navy for lower-priced clothes to tide me over.

I really shouldn't complain too much.  I did recently purchase a size-appropraite piece of clothing, which was two sizes smaller than the last time I tried one on:  

I know I can't expect every outfit to look as fabulous as this one (hello, waist!), but I'd like to stop wearing layers and scarves to hide the ill-fitting clothes.   I know I'll get there, but some mornings it's harder than others.  It's all part of the challenge to get healthy.

Revisiting old Haunts

If you attended public schools, more than likely you had gym (or P.E.) class, all the way through high school.  If you were a fat kid, this class was the dreaded part of your day.  I LOATHED PE.  I would do everything and anything to get out of it.  There was the glorious month in high school when I was recovering from mono so I couldn't do anything that would damage my spleen.  And at least once a month I could claim cramps and sit on the benches.  Why did I hate it so much, besides the fact that as an overweight kid I couldn't do a lot of the activities?  The environment was less than supportive.

The majority of my phys ed teachers had no tolerance for out of shape students.  They used the same motivational tactics I've seen in the military movies my Dad loved:  scolding and humiliation.  Miss Chris, my 2nd and 3rd grade PE teacher, was the cruelest.  She remarked on my chubby legs slowing me down when I couldn't run as fast as my classmates.  When we did relay races, if I walked at ALL during the lap, she'd make my whole team run the lap again.  This didn't make me the most popular kid in gym class.  My mother finally had to intervene to get her to let up on me, which she did...barely.

It was in her classes I first encountered the Presidential Fitness Tests.  Every year students went through a routine of shuttle runs, standing long jumps, and other athletic challenges.  The teachers would tell you what a kid your age is supposed to be able to do, and then you tried to achieve that metric.  I don't think it's a spoiler to say that I never, in all my years doing these tests, "passed."

The gym teachers administering these tests made sure you knew how far below par you were.  Of course, my classmates picked up on the teachers distaste of my athletic failings, and their mocking jeers added to the chorus from the teachers.   I do blame the example set by those teachers for the bullying I got as a result of not performing well in gym.  The kids saw it was okay to mock me.  One such teasing session due to a Fitness Test (the long-distance run, if I recall) where I walked instead of ran led to girls teasing me.  I ended up fighting back and got my first (and only) suspension.

In the fourth grade, I was put into "Special PE," in order to improve my Presidential Fitness Test scores.  Instead of having recess, I and other athletic failures spent our free time running laps, jumping ropes, and other fitness-based exercises in hopes to improve.  Instead it got us mocked more by classmates.

It's no wonder that overweight grownups are scared of the gym, or exercising in public.  If you grew up in an environment where your attempts were met with ridicule, you'd avoid it like the plague!    I tried aerobics in college, then stopped as soon as I discovered the rugby team would watch us through the windows and laugh their asses off.  After that, I didn't even attempt anything exercise-related for years.  It took having an exercise facility (Curves) that targeted plus-size folk to get me out of the house and moving again.

Now I'm at a place in my life where I am trying to remove the damage of the past.  The inner-critics that have the voice of Miss Chris and those other cruel teachers are drowned out by my heavy breathing when working out.  While I'm working those demons out, I've decided I want to go back and address another beast:  the Fitness Test.

I want to see if I can now pass what I couldn't when I was a kid.  I know there's a grownup version, and I might use that as a standard.  Do it every year, and see where I fall within the standards.  I think I need to do this, and vanquish those demons once and for all.

Balance Isn't Just for the Scales of Justice

I can't remember the first time I heard about Weight Loss Surgery (WLS).  As a teenager I do recall hearing about people getting their stomach stapled to lose weight, in the same breath as someone talking about the staples getting ripped out, or infected.  I came away from that thinking surgical intervention for weight loss = bad.

In the beginning, I had only heard WLS associated with people that were in the home-bound, bed-ridden level of obesity.  Then somewhere around 10 or so years ago, it become more common to hear of people...well, my size...getting "The Surgery."  It became the go-to for losing weight, whispered around that this was the magic bullet that us fatties had been waiting for.  Yet, I never saw it as something I wanted to do.  To be honest, at the time I didn't want to do ANYTHING...I hadn't hit the clicking point yet for myself.

I admit it.  I am judgmental when it comes to using WLS as the "cure-all," for people.  I've watched people get the surgery, and then learn nothing about improving eating habits, exercise, etc.  One such person I knew even would eat enough to "dump," aka vomit, empty their now-smaller stomach, and once done, go back for more food because they "had room again."

This same person didn't want people to know they had WLS, so I would stand there and hear the praises heaped on them for all their "hard work," and how wonderful and skinny they looked...all the while knowing they had just 15 minutes ago been shoving the 2nd round cheese puffs in their mouths, while chubby me was eating my balanced plate of food, after running 2 miles in the morning, and still fitting in the 20-zone sizes.  Where was my acknowledgement?

Do I think this of everyone whose ever had WLS?  Absolutely not.  Everyone has their own reasons - and rights - to choose whatever method to lose weight they want.  There are people that this is truly, honestly, the only option they have.  People who need to lose wieght in order to be more mobile to move.

It's the "bad apples" that have put the bad taste in my mouth.  People going out gorging on food for their "last meals" before surgery.  People actually GAINING weight in order to qualify for the surgery...in what universe does that make sense?

I worry we keep going and reaching for the "magic trick," we are never going to learn how to be healthy.  I see devices like the Aspire Assist, and I'm horrified.  Is this really better than a trainer and a nutritionist?

Maybe it's not just WLS that I have an overall problem with in the Losing Weight Game.  Any time I hear the words "lose weight fast," I tune out.  I've watched people close to me do those.  Hell, anyone who has had a TV in the past 20 years watched Oprah go super-skinny on protein shakes, only to gain it all back (and then some) once she had to start eating normal food and meals again.  Carnie Wilson had a second WLS because she gained all the weight back from her previous Gastric Bypass, because in her own words, "I think it was just a combination of reverting back to old habits and not exercising anymore.”

Just so I'm not just bashing WLS, let me throw in the other "get quick fix" fad that is not healthy:  The Biggest Loser.  I wrote about the unrealistic expectations set on the viewers - and the contestants back in September (what a original title!).  The other night I caught the weigh-in part of the new season, to see contestants upset they "only" lost five pounds.  I found myself starting to yell at the TV, and then reminded myself of why I didn't watch the show.

I admit, I look at those SlimFast ads or the Magic Cookie commercials and think, "well, maybe as just a kick-start to get thin, and THEN I can do the healthy thing!"   I know that's not the answer.  It has to be a balance of a good diet and exercise.  It took a long time to get fat and unhealthy...it's going to take a long time to get healthy.


My approach to this is not that I am dieting.  I am changing my way of life.  Diet is a noun for me, not a verb.  This isn't temporary.  This is way I want, NEED, to live and eat and exercise in order to stay alive and healthy.

Losing weight is a balance.  Eat the food to fuel you.  Use the fuel to get moving and exercise, lose the fat, and build the muscle.  The "trick?"  Finding the best combination that works for you.  It may take awhile.   Keep believing you can find it, and keep working on it.  That's when the magic happens.    Your magic bullet is YOU.

My Turn

This is me, trying the "lift yourself up" activity at the Boston Children's Museum.

There was a time that I would not even consider doing something like that. I would have been too self-conscious to try and lift my bulk. I would not want other people looking at me and making snide remarks or jokes. But...my daughter asked me to. She saw her Daddy try it, and then said "it's Mommy's turn! Your turn now, right Mommy?"

I didn't even hesitate.  There was no way I was going to say no to her.  Not for this.  I never want to say to her "Mommy's too big to do this, sweetie."  I want her to know anyone, of any size, can do anything.

I actually wanted to see if I could do it. I got in the chair, worried for one moment about the seat belt fitting (it did just enough), and I got the chair up somewhat. I didn't make it all the way up to the top.

I know there will be a time we'll visit there, and I will lift myself up to the top.  I have no doubt in my mind.  I've been getting stronger with my workouts.  I can now go from a folded position and jump back into a push-up position.  I can do pushups!

I didn't think that the Biggest Loser DVDs and my 2-mile walks around the Common were doing more than maintaining for me.  But clothes are fitting looser.  My strength and flexibility are improving.  I am improving.

White Coat Syndrome, or why Fat Folks hate the Doctor

In my sophomore year of high school, I came down with mono.  My parents weren't sure it was mono at first, thinking I was being a usual lazy oversleeping teenager.  So my Mom took me to the pediatrician.  During the exam, the nurse decided to talk to me about my weight, even giving me a slip of paper with the title of Covert Bailey's bestseller "Fit or Fat?" for me to read.  I was in there for swollen glands, swollen spleen, stemming from a virus, and here I was being lectured about my weight.

This was the first, but not the last, of many, many encounters of inappropriate conversations about my weight challenges by the medical profession. I hadn't thought about that situation until just now, when I was trying to remember the first time I was fat-shamed in an doctor's office.

I want to make sure I'm clear on how I feel about this issue, as I am sure that this will raise a lot of discussion and arguments.  Yes, you should talk with a doctor about your weight, if you feel it is a problem for you.  Yes, your doctor should be able to bring it up as a medical concern as your primary care physician.  However, I feel there is a time and a place for this, and currently that is not happening.  Because of this, way too many of my chubby kin avoid whitecoats, and are letting other major health issues get the best of them.

One day in the fall of the late 90's, I woke up not feeling right.  I made it into work, not realizing I couldn't talk until I opened my mouth to say good morning to my boss.  What came out was something that sounded like Muppets underwater.  I had to have a coworker call and make an appointment for me with my primary care physician.  When I got to the office, the first thing they did?  Put me on the scale.  I ended up having life-threatening tonsilitis (I had tonsils that would swell to the point they almost blocked my airways).  Instead, I got the "lose weight" lecture from a nurse until the doctor saw me and realized my situation.

I avoided doctors and getting physicals for the majority of my 20s.  I didn't want to hear the lecture about my obesity.  I knew I was fat, and I knew I was at risk for other health conditions because of it.   Knowing that every other health concern I had would be overlooked because of my fat left me using CVS for my ailments.

In my 30s, I got more confident in my size and rights as a patient, if I wasn't in the office for a physical exam, I would refuse to get on the scale.  I did get some confrontation, but I was insistent that my weight did _not_ have anything to do with my fever of 103.

I had some gynecological issues in my early 30s.  I went to a Gynecologist who treated me with condescension and disbelief of my issues.  Whenever I called to discuss my problems, he would threaten me with putting me on birth control to stop getting my period, like a cancer patient, is that what I wanted?  I finally snapped at him, telling him no, I'd like him to treat me like a human being with things I know aren't normal for my body.   He did a uterine biopsy on me a)without warning me or b)giving me any pain relief.  I am not sure this was weight-related treatment, but it was his attitude that led me to one of the worst exams I've ever had.

After this horrid experience, I decided to go with a new GYN that a friend recommended.  This friend was also on the plus-size side, so I figured she would be a safe bet as doctor's go.  After getting the usual pre-checkup stuff done, the doctor walked in, and with barely and introduction, launched into telling me I needed weight loss surgery.  I was floored.  She told me that at my height, I should be somewhere around 110 pounds, and seeing that I was nowhere near that, surgery was my only option.  When I told her that i had never dieted or had a regular exercise regime, and I'd like to try that route first,  she told me flat out, "I don't think that would ever work for you."  She then proceeded to give me an internal exam that to this day...I felt violated by, with her rudeness and coldness.  She then told me that my issues would only be solved with scarring procedures, or a hysterectomy. Either way, children would never be in my future.

After I spent a day balled up on the couch bawling my eyes out, the next day, I got up, and I worked out.  I got a nutritionist who taught me about portion control and healthy eating.  In about a year and a half's time, I lost about 50 pounds.  More importantly, I got HEALTHY. 

When I was pregnant with my first child (something the evil gyno said would NEVER happen...HA!), I was worried about going to the OB and getting the "talk."  I knew that there were different guidelines for obese pregnant women.  However, I never was scolded or lectured to during the pregnancy.  The OB knew I was doing prenatal yoga and walking when I could, and she said "different studies come out all the time about how much you should gain.  As long as you're doing fine, I'm not worried."  I gained the average weight for a pregnancy, and had a healthy baby girl.


This OB became the total OPPOSITE with my second pregnancy.  As I wrote about in this CC entry,  she was relentess in harassing me about my weight.  Even though I was lighter and healthier in this pregnancy.  She didn't care.  She was dismissive, and wouldn't believe me when I assured her I was making healthy choices.  Again, I had a healthy baby boy, no thanks to the stress she added to my pregnancy.

Now here I am today.  A month ago, I had my first physical in about four years (pregnancies, not fear, kept me from them).  I got on the scale, saw the number.  As the doc looked at my charts online, I saw the words MORBIDLY OBESE screaming from the monitor.  She asked me about my overall health, my activity, my lifestyle.  I kept waiting for the lecture, it never came.  At the end of the exam, as she as leaving, I said to her, "Doctor, I just want to thank you for not bringing up or lecturing me about my weight.  I know that it is a concern and that I am working on it, and I was prepared to tell you all that.  Thank you for treating me like a human being."  She came back over to me, put her hand on my arm and said, "You told me all that you're doing for your health.  Why am I going to lecture you on stuff you already have a handle on.  You are in great health for your age, and you are raising two little ones that are your first priority.  You're doing what you can, and that's all I can ask of my patients. "  I would be lying if I didnt say that I cried with joy on the way home.

That's right.  I cried because a doctor treated me the way we should be expected to be treated by another human being, even more so by those who want to help us stay healthy and current customers; with respect.


I'm writing this entry because recently a friend asked for doctor recommendations on FB, and I knew, through the unwritten understanding between people of size, to make sure when I made recommendations, to state they were size-friendly.  I shouldn't have to DO THAT.  We should have the expectation that people who in a profession that deals with all walks of life, should have tact.

Instead, I read articles like this one.  I read articles where doctors don't want to treat overweight patients because it raises their insurance rates.  Or I read blogs and horror stories of how overweight people aren't treated for medical issues because doctors can't look past the fat.

As I mentioned.  There is a time and a place to have the weight discussion.  Doctors need to be trained better on how to handle that.  Stop treating patients like children.  As patients, we need to be more assertive, and stand up for ourselves.  They're our bodies, no one else is going to care about it more than you!

Balance

After a week of the "30-Day Shred," I could not return that DVD to the library fast enough.  I did not want a workout that made me feel defeatist and a loser from the starting gate.  That's not how my motivation works.  I need something that I can DO at least 75-90% of, and work on getting to the 100%, and then move on from there.


I decided on some more "Biggest Loser" brand DVDs.  Not because I've ever really watched the show, but reading reviews about the workouts described exactly what I'm looking for; a workout I can customize, and build up, without having to buy more DVDs right away, or a whole workout plan.  Since they've been out for a few years, I was able to get both a  cardio and a strength DVD used for about ten bucks

Both these DVDs have customizing options, another feature that appealed to me.  You select from Warmup, Level One, Two, Three, and Cool down/Stretch.  You also can select to do the workouts with or without the trainer.   What, I don't have to face Jillian again if I don't want to?  BRING IT!

I started with this one as something to do on my non-running days.  I was a little apprehensive since I would be facing my nemesis Jillian again.   I'm starting to think she has a Jekyll-Hyde personality disorder.  On this DVD, she was nice, helpful, and forgiving if you couldn't complete the task.  She even called one of the BL contestants (who are doing the workout with you) "Poodle!"  I was able to do complete Level One workout, and I felt like I got a good workout in, but did not collapse into a pool of tears thinking I sucked.

On the mornings I just can't bring myself to get out running (which is becoming more and more common - more on that later), I have been using this DVD.  Bob the Trainer is so NICE!  He proves you can be motiviational without humilating someone!  He's also totally okay that you may not be able to do everything right away, and they have examples of getting the job done without breaking something.  I love that in 30 minutes I am sweating, breathing heavy, and know I got a GOOD workout.  The yoga stretching cooldown is also great. I miss my yoga, and getting a little bit at the end of this DVD is a treat.

Both these videos have the Biggest Loser contestants performing the workouts with you.  They're all at different levels, from having a winner on there, to folks about halfway through the season (I'm guessing).  I will say using these DVDs has piqued my curiosity in watching the show.

...until I read this tell-all article about being a contestant on the show.    This made me sad.  I'm not surprised about the revelations about behind-the scenes, but it's stuff like this that builds up expectations in folks who then get frustrated when they haven't lost a gazillion pounds in three days.

I think that's why I have not been a religious viewer of the show.  I would watch it, and then subconsciously set expectations on  myself to have the same results as those on the BL Campus.  Then I'd feel sorry for myself being such a failure, and say the heck with it and just stop exercising all together.

That's NOT what I want to be about.  Maybe I'll watch it and blog about it, and how you could translate what they're doing into Real Life, where sometimes soothing your one-year old's cries is more important than the 30 minute sculpt video.   Where sometimes you can have that piece of cheesecake...just not every night that week.
 

Unflappable!

Welcome to the Thunderdome.

Now that the boy has started to sleep through the night, I've been able to get into more of a routine for working out.  For running, I'm using the Hal Higdon Training for 5k, Novice Level.  I'm currently at week one, running for 1.5 miles.  The first day was challenging and I walked a little bit, but the past two runs I've actually run the whole thing.  This morning, I felt great the whole time.

One of my biggest challenges is my inner critic.  Sometimes it manifests itself in the form of my shadow, which I've talked about in this blog.  Monday morning on my run, it tried to taunt me: "Look at how SLOOOW you're going.  Do you REALLY think you're running?"  This time, though, before I could let it get to me and depress me into walking, I said back, "Hey, if I'm casting a shadow, it means I'm still upright!" I laughed about that the rest of the run.  I'm guessing it's a good thing I go early in the morning so no one can see a crazy fat girl laughing while running...that has to be a sign of the apocalypse, right?

Speaking of the end of the world...I won't lie.  I might have prayed for death yesterday morning.  For my alternate days' workout, I've decided to try Jillian Michaels' 30 Day Shred.  I've heard great things about it from friends and family, and I could check it out of our library for three weeks.  Yesterday I got up, dressed, grabbed my weights, and turned on the DVD.

Jillian Michaels does NOT mess around.  From warmup to cool down you DO NOT STOP.  There is no rest during the workout.  It is set up like a circut, mixed cardio and strength workouts.  The strength parts were challenging, but I could keep up.  The cardio sections were tough, and there were a few times I did stop, and I SWEAR Jillian could see me through the TV screen, because whenever I stopped to catch my breath, she would say "I know it's tough but DO NOT STOP!"  ...I may have gasped a few curse words at her in return. 

One of the cardio workouts is jumping jacks, which I haven't done since high school.  I was afraid to do them in the house at first, because I expected the house to shake when I jumped up and down.  When that didn't happen, I kept going.  The second circuit of jumping jacks, I heard this...flapping noise.  With horror, I realized: that was me.  It was my stomach flapping with my jumping.  

I wasn't sure if I was going to share that not-so-pretty moment, but this is what Chasing Chubby is about.  Working out is NOT supposed to be pretty.  It's sweaty and smelly, and now loud and flappy.

It's all worth it.  I'm a little sore from the 30-Day Shred, but this morning I put on a pair of pants that the size did not start with a "2" for the first time since getting pregnant with the boy.  I'll totally be flapping away again tomorrow.

JP Morgan Chase Challenge - 7/12/12

(Me crossing the finish line)

I first attempted the Challenge in 2007 (see the post about it here).  I had been going to the gym, doing a cardio regime, but not running.  I walked the whole thing, and the experience was miserable.  I started at the end of the pack, so by the time I crossed the start line (there's about 10,000 entrants to this race), the winner was already turning the corner to finish.  Walkers gave up and would cut across the street (the course was up and back Comm Ave), or just give up completely.  By the time I got into Kenmore Square, I was dead last.  Water tables had packed up and left.  The ambulance followed me all the way to the finish line.  But, I made it across the finish line.  I was determined to run it the next time.

Then there were obstacles.  Miscarriages.  Pregnancies.  Babies.  Finally, five years later, I was ready to try again.

I would love to write I trained my ass off, and ran the whole 3.5 miles and fulfilled my promise.  Part of the Chasing Chubby experience is that not everything is what you want it to be, but you need to celebrate it anyway.

Trying to train with babies in your life is hard.  If you are planning on getting up at 5 AM to run, the baby doesn't know that when they wake up screaming at 2:30 and keep you up until 4.  There's more sickness with kids, too, so if you're sick there's no running.

Most of the time, I was lucky if I got out twice a week to run.  Even then, I wasn't running more than a mile solid.  The week before the race I was up in Maine, my runs weren't more than a mile, and with the heat and humidity I was walking as well as running.  I started to panic about the Challenge, and contemplated dropping out because I couldn't fulfill my goal of running the whole thing.

The Monday before the race, I realized that giving up because of that would be a piss-poor reason to drop out of the race.  That morning I decided to try and run three miles; the farthest I'd gone since having my son.  I got out there, and did a run/walk combo that I accomplished without difficulty.  I finished the three miles in under an hour.  That's how I would do the challenge: walking and running.

The day of the race, I worked out my plan.  I brought up a map of the race course, and plotted out half-mile intervals where I would switch from walking to running.  I would be running two miles, and walking one and a half.  I went through the course on Google Maps streetview so I wouldn't panic on the course on where to switch.  Finally, as I geared up for the race, I wrote the plan on my arm:

I was ready.

This time, I didn't line up at the back of the pack with the walkers; I learned my lesson last time.  Even so, when the gun went off it took a good five minutes to cross the start line on Charles Street, and that was walking.  It wasn't until we turned onto Beacon the pace picked up.  By the time we hit Arlington there was room to start jogging, FINALLY!

I did great up to my first checkpoint at Berkeley.  I dropped to a walk even though my race-brain wanted to GO! GO! GO!  I knew better from experience.  If I wanted to cross the finish line running, I needed to be consistent and stick with the plan.

I hit Fairfield, and started running again.  At the one-mile water table, my best friend Rebecca and her daughter were waiting to hand me refreshment.  Rebecca cheered me on as I kept going. I was still feeling good when I got to the overpass that goes under Mass Ave.  I ran down it, but decided to walk back up to conserve energy.  This brought me to Charlesgate, which was my walking part anyway.  At the 1.5 mile mark, there was water, but whole bottles.  I did not want to chug, so I was taking a mouthful and in the most un-ladylike way spitting it out.

After turning around in Kenmore Square (Hello, Fenway!), I picked up the pace again.  Now I was starting to feel some exhaustion.  Jogging to Exeter felt daunting, so I decided to now adopt a new plan: ran when I felt I could do it, walk when I needed to rest.  I was running when I passed Rebecca and her daughter again (the water station moved across to get the runners coming back), and I thankfully got more water and encouragement.  I kept going.

At Arlington, I knew it was the home stretch.  I moved back into a running mode.  I turned onto Boylston.  It was a little congested with  walkers and tourists, so I slowed back down.  Then I hit Charles Street.  This was it; I took a deep breath, and hit it.  I crossed the finish line running.  I was done!

I was extremely proud of myself. I went out with some coworkers, got home, and slept feeling like a rock star.

The next day, I got to work, hung my bib up (now my fourth in a growing collection), and looked up my stats from the race to see how I had improved in four years.

2007: 1:04:37
2012: 1:04:37

The exact same time. Down to the SECOND.


The pride inside deflated.  How did I perform exactly the same when I added running this time around?  I started looking for anomalies.  I checked the app I use on my iPhone to look at my stats.  Anything to prove to me I did better, that I'm improving.

At the end of the day, none of those numbers are going to do it.  I need to hold on to that sense of pride and accomplishment I felt on both the nights in '07 and '12.  I crossed a finish line.  It might not have been a PR-setting race, but it's been a race that is part of who I am as a runner.

I will do the race again, and I'll cross the finish line again, no matter how I get there.

The Chase Begins Again

This happy face was my passenger for the last of my running in 2011. Now, six months after he entered the world, I'm ready to get back out there and run for my life.

I stopped running around halfway through my pregnancy, mostly all my baby business was making breathing difficult (having a fetus on your lungs can do that). Even after the running stopped, I kept up exercising. I alternated walking and prenatal yoga during the week. I kept at it up until my beautiful boy entered the world.

And then...I needed to recover and rest. I had all ideals of being back on the road before the next Jingle Bell Run for December '11, but I didn't take into account things like middle of the night feedings, and trying to cram milk-full breasts into sports bras (answer:no). So I did what I'm sure doctors wouldn't reccommend: I gave myself time to adjust. I didn't beat myself up for not exercising. When I could, I would take the kids on walks during the day.

Right around when the baby was six months old, I felt the itch. The weather was unseasonably warm and on my commute home I saw the other runners out there. I'm ready, I thought to myself.

I had a few false starts. With children, you can't always guarantee that you'll get a full night's sleep, or a virus will attack the household. Then I found myself fighting the inner critic, finding any excuse not to go out (I couldn't find the right playlist; I couldn't find my equipment for the road). Finally in the middle of March, I was ready to go. I set my running clothes out the night before, and got to bed. Of course, the boy had other plans, and I did not get out that next morning. I sat at work that day, disappointed. I got home, and just as I was about to start dinner, I turned to my husband.

"Can you handle this," I asked. "I need to get out and run." Since he's also a runner, and been seeing me struggle with my return, he took my place in the kitchen without hesitation. I got dressed, grabbed my iPod, and out the door.

That's how I finished Week, 1, Day 1 of the Couch to 5K running program. I'm now on Week 3, after an interruption by colds and conjuncitivits. I'm still running.

Look at that face. How can I not run to stay healthy for that face?