When I Look Down, I See......Boobs!!

Jeans are fitting better...I noticed today when I look down, I see my boobs, not my stomach. My stomach is still there, heh, don't get me wrong, but now its not sticking out farther then my boobs (when I sit down). If you've seen my boobs, you know that NOTHING should stick out farther then those things. Anyway...I have been wanting to share the story of my first 1/2 marathon. It was without a doubt, one of the most mentally challenging things I've done since graduating college.

Even in my times of denial about the health of my body I had good intentions. I was frequently signing myself up for 5K runs and events that would hopefully be incentive enough for me to get my shit together. After signing up for and running (sort of) a few 5K's, I realized I wasn't getting the results I was hoping for, and overweight as I was, I could still run 3.1 miles. Not fast, but I could do it. Perhaps I needed more of a challenge...like being on a team for the Hood to Coast (HTC) race. Thank god our application did not get chosen.

Perhaps I was weak from being depressed about our team not getting chosen for the HTC race, or maybe I honestly thought that signing up for a 1/2 marathon would be different then signing up for a 5K? Either way, the next thing I knew, I had agreed to run a 1/2 marathon (13.1 miles) with my friend C-hella. It was November. The 1/2 marathon was in June. I had plenty of time.

March came around faster then ever, and it was time to actually register for the Seattle Rock n' Roll Half Marathon. I became a fan of them on Facebook. I bought some running magazines that featured plans for 1/2 marathon training. Seemed easy enough. I had 15 weeks...Meanwhile C-hella was unstoppable. She was adding about a mile a week to her runs (which is perfect) and would even have time to taper before the race. Me? I was just hoping to get up to running 10 miles before the race. I was currently at...um....well...three.

I wanted to run in the race. I wanted it to be nice and enjoyable for me. I could picture myself gliding with ease with all the other runners. I just couldn't get myself out the door everyday for training. Stubborn, lazy, call it what you will. The 15 weeks flew by (of course) and I think the longest run I had managed was 5 miles. Nothing to sneeze at, but I was facing 13.1 miles in a week. I began to panic. I tried to get out of running in the race by sending a e-mail to C-hella explaining my circumstances. She would not hear any of it. She was flying all the way up to Seattle from San Francisco, and I was running with her. At least, I was meeting her at the starting line and starting the race with her. Fuck.

Race day. I have participated in enough competitive events in my life to not get nervous for events like this. I just needed a plan. My boyfriend was driving me to the start line, where I would meet C. I would be running with my cell phone in case of emergency, and to locate everyone after the race. As we drove south on I-5, I looked at my boyfriend and said "this is the dumbest thing I've ever done." He looked back and said "yup." So we came up with a plan. I said to him, I'll make it to the half-way point at Seward Park. You come pick me up there, and then we'll drive to the finish line to meet C. He said "don't worry about making it to a certain point, you just call me when you've had enough, and I'll come get you." I felt much better. I would not inform C of my plan.

The start line was madness like I never could have imagined! There were SO many people (19,000) to be exact, this race set a record for participation in Washington State. C and I found a friend of ours Ryan, at the medical tent, where I obtained the sunscreen I forgot to apply in the morning. It was a rare sunny day. Ryan, being a doctor and all, I decided I should maybe get some last minute tips from him. All he said was "you'll finish." For some reason, even though I didn't believe it myself, I believed him.

The race queue's had begun to form. C and I were packed in like sardines. Lines for the 1,000 porta-potties were still 10 minutes long. It was like burning man, except everyone was in spandex. Slowly moving forward...start line was visible now...and we were off! The coolest thing about this particular marathon is that there are bands every mile (hence Rock n' Roll). The route was also guaranteed to be scenic, as it wound through some of Seattle's nicest areas. Finish line was in downtown Seattle. Seward Park, my bail out point was 6 miles away. Six miles was sounding so much better then 13.1.

C and I ran about the 1st mile together. We were keeping pace with the 12 minute mile group, and she really wanted to stick with them. I fell behind, but continued to run till I reached the first 5K (3.1 miles). I walked for a mile. I ran the next two miles, most of which were downhill. I came up on Seward Park at mile 6, immediately saw my boyfriend and dog in the crowd and jogged over to the side. I felt great! "I'm going-I'm going all the way!" I managed to breathe out as my boyfriend snapped some photos. He smiled and said "ok, call me."


Miles 7-9 were run/walk but generally went by pretty quick. I could feel a huge blister forming on my heel, but couldn't focus on it. My calves began occasionally cramping. As I approached the I-90 tunnel and was looking for mile 10, I was strictly walking. Every time I felt I could run, I would begin, only to get the twinges of charlie horses. I began to frequently stop and stretch. It was awesome, just about every time I would stop and stretch, someone would cheer me on, or offer so sort of words of support for me. I wanted to bail out, but since I was on a closed road, there was no way my boyfriend could get to me. I had no choice but to keep going till I got downtown. When I reached downtown, I saw the mile 12 sign. One more mile? I could do that. I was in excruciating pain. I was stopping quite frequently to stretch. I just pressed on.

I somehow made it to the finish line. All I could think about was eating a banana and stopping. I got my medal, got my photo taken, and found the nearest curb. I couldn't even think of trying to find C or my boyfriend just yet. I needed to rest. I ate 2 bananas to hopefully stop myself from cramping up. I was in complete disbelief that I finished, but SO happy I did. My time? 3h 26m 19s. C finished at like 2h 21m or something like that.


Being able to finish was 100% mental. I honestly believe if you are stubborn and just put your mind to something, you can do it. I didn't let myself out of it. I didn't let myself give up. Now, as I go through this process of trying to get myself healthier, one of the long term (6 months or so) goals I have is to compete in another 1/2 marathon, and shed at least 30 minutes off my previous time. After all, if I was able to finish a half-marathon at my heaviest weight, it can only get better for me.

Pet Pee[ves]

The first diet I remember going on was in 5th grade. My parents had done Weight Watchers on and off, and had all the materials and "knowledge." My dad and I decided to do the Weight Watchers plan together, but at home, and not go to any meetings (aka: free). I remember my first week on the plan, I kept having to wake up in the middle of the night an pee. It was obnoxious, annoying, and clearly traumatic enough I still remember it today. My mom told me that is a sure-tell sign of losing weight.

I think I lost about 10 pounds in the 6 or 8 weeks we stuck with that plan. 10 pounds is a lot for a 10 year old. I also distinctly remember getting to a point where I wanted an apple more then a candy bar. How could I learn so much about my body at the age of 10, and 20 years later have to re-discover the same things? Maddening, but I digress...

Being woken up in the middle of the night to pee has always been my indicator that I'm on the right track and losing weight. I love sleeping. I hate being woken up. Often, I'll just lay in bed telling myself it can wait till morning, but eventually I realize I will be more comfortable if I just go. Covers off...cold air...push dog aside...stumble through the dark...find toilet...ahhh. Getting back into bed never felt so good. I am curious though, has anyone else noticed this phenomenon about their body, or is it just my DNA?

So, speaking of pee, I discovered that I have many pet peeves when it comes to gym etiquette. Today, I was happily climbing mountains on the eliptical machine, and a man two machines down from me starts making primal, cat-in-heat, heart attack sounds. I seriously had to keep looking over for fear of him keeling over at any moment. Just when I couldn't take it any more and thought he was dying, he would shout "yes!" It was nice to know that this man was simply giving it his all, however; I just find it strange that the majority of gym users are capable of giving it their all's without the soundtrack.

Next, I move on to the treadmill for my 15 minutes of run training. The only treadmill that was free was in between a sprinter and a woman talking on her cell phone. Argh. I hop on, thinking maybe if I start running hard enough, I can make crazy noises like that other guy, and the chick will show some courtesy and get off the phone. Four minutes down...trying to keep pace with the sprinter...breathing obnoxiously hard...giving cell phone girl occasional dirty looks...she's still talking. Finally, she hangs up. Now she is texting. I kid you not. I don't know about anyone else, but there is no way in hell I could get a decent workout in if I was talking on the phone and texting. Seriously, leave your phone in your car for 30 minutes. NO ONE will miss you. So I'm done with my run, and walking it out. I look over, and cell phone addict is UPDATING HER FACEBOOK PAGE! I give up. I wish I had super-vision so I could see what her status was...probably "OMG, getting my workout in today, and some annoying girl on the treadmill next to me keeps giving me dirty looks!"

Perhaps my annoyance with having to wake up in the middle of the night is making me more easily disturbed at the gym. I need to remember that waking up to pee = losing weight (for me). As long as I am focused on myself, no one can annoy me, and no one is doing anything wrong. If someone wants to throw their workout away because they can't let go of their cell phone, that is their problem. I'll just be over here, on the next treadmill, losing weight.

Resolutionists Be Gone!

Well, it's official. The New Year's Resolutionists have dropped off. The "Y" was empty today. I had my pick of parking, my pick of machine, and didn't have to worry about being on my machine for longer then 30 minutes. It feels good knowing that I have outlasted a group of people that made a resolution to themselves to workout more, or whatever it was that was getting them to the gym. Perhaps for me, this time, I'm in it for the long run.

Last week was an experiment for me. I guess you could say I was testing the limits. What I discovered was at this point in my journey, what goes into my mouth matters more then anything. I exercised 6 out of 7 days last week, like I have been. Monday through Thursday, my meals were about the same as previous successful weeks. Friday and Sunday were splurge days for me, in which I ate foods that I know are "triggers" for me (crackers, chinese food, sugary carbs).

Currently my body is out of balance. I do not have the amount of muscle I normally have. It is a slippery slope, much like when you have very little money in your bank account, and you overdraft, and then you get charged for the overdraft, etc., etc. However, when you have money in the bank, your money keeps growing because of interest. There is a very fine line between constantly getting charged for things and paying, versus keeping money in the bank and earning more.

I need to build up my muscle mass so I can keep money in my "bank account." The last time I was in really good shape, I ate whatever I wanted. I controlled my weight by exercise. I am clearly not able to do this yet, as I learned by last week.

In fact, I'm pretty sure this realization could have helped me years ago, as I continued to exercise, but not eat less. I was living pay check to pay check so to speak. Now, its time to start saving up.

Reality Check

I got cocky. I fooled myself into thinking that I was on top of things since I had lost 9 pounds over the past 3 weeks, and let my guard down. I gained one pound today at my normal Monday weigh-in. I'm not going to sugar-coat things or go into denial about how I could be obtaining more muscle mass, or how hormones might be a factor this week.

The simple truth is I ate more calories last week then I burned. I can think of every single calorie I ate last week that was a step backwards for me, and consciously made the decision to eat it. Why? Cause I was unstoppable! I had lost 9 pounds, and therefore figured everything out! Never mind I had spent the last 3 years making poor decisions and fooling myself, I completely erased those behaviors in 3 weeks!

In comes the REALITY CHECK. The scale does not like cocky. The scale likes hard work. I am not invincible to weight gain after 3 weeks of eating healthy. Instead of getting upset and using this as an excuse to continue to make bad decisions, I'm going to use it as fuel to get back on track.

I upped my morning workout by 5 minutes this morning to 45 minutes. I am eating my 1/2 grapefruit right now. I will be having salad for dinner. I have 3 weeks of data showing me what works, and 988 weeks of data on what doesn't work. I was really hoping to get a loss of 10 pounds under my belt, but that will have to wait. Eight pounds in 4 weeks is fantastic, but I know I can do better.

Grapefruit, Miraclefruit

For awhile, I used to keep a running list in my head of things that I thought I hated, but upon trying FOR THE FIRST TIME, realized they weren't so bad, and in all cases, proceeded to become obsessed with the item. The fact that there were so many items that I decided I didn't like without even trying them was childish. I'm not sure when or how I decided to grow up, but it seems the largest gains in acceptable foods came between 19 and 23. Water, red peppers, asparagus, artichokes, cous-cous, curry, brown rice, and grapefruit all became part of my repertoire.

The timing of my grapefruit obsession coincided with my discovery of water (stopped drinking soda and fruit juice which were the ONLY things I drank), and a pretty large boost in my activity level. Nine months later I was at my healthiest weight since being 5 years old. A good friend of mine who hadn't seen me in a year could not believe my transition. She informed me about 37 times how great I looked, then asked me what I had been doing differently. With my Nalgene bottle in hand, I said "I started drinking water, almost exclusively, I drink coffee and beer as well. I discovered running. Oh, and I've been eating 1/2 a grapefruit every morning." She replied: "grapefruit are supposed to contain enzymes that aid in weight loss."

I had heard vague rumblings about the benefits of grapefruit in the past, of course the grapefruit diet, etc., but for some reason her words really stuck with me. My grapefruit obsession continued for at least another year, and I was maintaining my fitness and my healthy weight. The end of my grapefruit obsession coincided with me graduating college, moving to a new city, and becoming slightly less active.

Now if this were a scientific experiment, it would be bunk. There are so many variables, grapefruit alone can not be isolated and therefore a determination made on its effects. However, I do know this much, the time in my life I was eating the most grapefruit was also the time in my life I was at the healthiest weight. Just as there are many factors that got me to be where I am today, there are many factors that got me to where I was then. I have nothing to lose (except weight, hopefully) by adding grapefruit to my diet, along with my increased exercise routine, drinking water, and eating less.

I have been eating 2 grapefruits a week for the past 3 weeks now. For the first time in three years I have been losing weight. I decided to do some internet research on grapefruit to see if maybe it was just a placebo effect. I was immediately directed to flashy sites wanting to sell me their grapefruit diet plans, but one site actually had a link to a real medical study on the effects of grapefruit.

The study consisted of 100 men and women who over a 12 week period made no dietary changes except adding 1/2 a grapefruit to every meal, and slightly increasing exercise. On average, participants lost 3.5 pounds, with many losing as much as 10 pounds. Additionally, the research indicates that there is a connection between grapefruit and insulin, as it relates to weight management. It is thought that the chemical properties of grapefruit reduce insulin levels and encourage weight loss! If you are still skeptical, and want to look at the data to back up these claims for yourself, here is the link to the article.

I am a firm believer in the positive effects of grapefruit, and recognize now that they must be a part of my life forever.

Catering [dinner] to a Man

A good friend of mine, C-hella (I'm using her rapper name for anonymity) asked me to dedicate a post to the nutritional sacrifices women make when being in a relationship with a man. I wanted to go into a little more depth and discuss the general nature of women who tend to defer to the man's lifestyle.

Over the past few years, as I transitioned from a fresh-out-of-college single into being in a long-term relationship, I made some observations about myself and my family. For various reasons, it has become apparent to me that the females in my family have issues when it comes to relationships with men. I am no psychiatrist, so I have no idea if these behaviors stem from emotional problems, or if they were learned, or if they are just simply a part of the X chromosome.

My parents divorced when I was 12. It was an amicable split, and they still remain cordial to this day. It was when my mom began seeing her now long-term boyfriend of 17 years that I first noticed how the women in my family treat their men. As my other 3 aunts divorced/became separated from their husbands, I saw a pattern. The women in my family drop everything they are doing and focus on whatever the man needs. Especially when it comes to food and making dinner for them. I believe I mentioned in a previous post that in my family, food = love? Well, yeah, initially that's how the women in my family express their feelings for a new man. However, as I got older and wiser, I noticed that its not just what is for dinner that gets geared for the man, but work schedules, music choices, and activities. At least, it is this way in the beginning. After 17 years my mom is over that phase, but I still see an occasional cave-in on her part.

I know the ladies in my family are on the extreme side of taking care of their men, but I do not think they are entirely alone in what they do. In fact, most of the women I've observed either as friends, family, or acquaintances give up a little of themselves in hopes of getting or keeping the approval of their man (at least in the beginning). I recognized almost immediately that I was suffering from this same fate in the first year of dating my boyfriend, as my regular workout routine became sporadic, we ate out at restaurants a lot, and my overall activity level dropped, as my boyfriend prefers lounging to activities.

I am in no way pinning my current situation on my boyfriend, but rather counting it as one of many little things that add up over time. I am on a journey of health, and becoming conscious of all the little factors that could be contributing to my bad habits is paramount. I would say that in general, it is a bad habit to give up things that are necessary for my well being just because I don't want to be difficult or upset my boyfriend. I know that I need a solid exercise routine. I know that I need to eat less, which really includes eating out less. I know that I prefer to be active and do things rather then sit at home and watch movies.

Over the past 3.5 weeks, I have been doing the things I need to do for me. There has been no change in my relationship. My boyfriend did not run for the door when I told him I was having salad for dinner and he was on his own. I no longer follow him into the kitchen for second helpings. We are still together despite the fact we haven't eaten out at a restaurant in 3 weeks. I decline when he asks if I want something sweet from the store. On Saturday mornings he wakes up early with me and we take our dog to the dog park. I am understanding now that I do not have to do everything he does. I can not, for the sake of my health do everything he does!

I'm sure all the healthy women out there figured this out a LONG time ago! In trying not to be difficult, more then just exercise routines and eating habits suffer. Not being true to yourself allows resentment and anger to build up, and that is not healthy.

The Skinny on Fat People

I was at a bar one night with a girlfriend of mine and her boyfriend. I'm not sure how the conversation came up, but I distinctly remember her boyfriend saying "I want to get really fat, and then return to my size now, just so I can show all the fat people how easy it is." At the time, I didn't think too much of the statement since I was in one of my "lower weight/in shape" phases. I think back now only because I wonder is this what all thin people are thinking? That weight loss is easy and fat people are just lazy/stubborn/lacking self-control?

In my very small slice of this world, the answer is ABSOLUTELY. For the sake of argument, lets put people into two groups based on their bodies; healthy weight and unhealthy weight. There is a great deal of misunderstandings and stereotyping that goes with each group. Much like the Israeli's and the Palestinians, the black and the white, the Chinese and the Japanese, each group holds some prejudices towards the other.

The way I have always tried to overcome my prejudices has been to put myself in the other person's shoes. It is too easy to play the victim, and focus on the bad stereotypes that plague the current group I happen to identify with. Finding myself in the unhealthy weight group as of now, do I get offended when I think that a healthy weight person views me as lazy, stubborn, and lacking self-control? Yes, of course I do. But focusing on my offense is not going to change anything.

Now for the hard part: putting myself into a healthy weight persons' shoes. What would cause a healthy weight person to think and believe that unhealthy weight people are lazy, stubborn, and lacking self-control? Why? Because a healthy weight person is always in motion, making workouts a priority, walking everywhere instead of driving, perhaps they don't have a desk job, and they make sure to balance their food intake with their activity level. Why? Because a healthy weight person doesn't make excuses for anything, doesn't refuse to do anything that is bettering their health, and holds themselves entirely responsible for their actions. Why? Because a healthy weight person makes conscious decisions about what to put in their mouth, and if a healthy weight person feels the balance shifting, they simply eat less.

Realizing that healthy weight people have to really work to be where they are was beyond educational for me. Of course I'm going to think someone is lazy if I'm working my ass off all the time. Of course I'm going to think someone has no self-control if they are telling me they don't want to be fat while eating McDonalds. Or course I'm going to think someone is stubborn if they refuse to do the things they need to do to be where they claim they want to be! Hmmm. So that's where those stereotypes come from.

I know this post is filled with broad generalizations that don't apply to every person. Isn't that the whole problem with stereotypes? But this is about my experiences with the people I have been exposed to throughout my life, my journey, and what works for me. By identifying where the stereotypes come from, my eyes opened to a lot of tough realities. I am guilty of not moving enough. I am guilty of being stubborn about what I need to do. I am guilty of not controlling my actions.

I feel so much better knowing that people of healthy weight (that I have come to know) really work hard to be where they are at. They do not take it for granted, and most of all, I have found these people to be the MOST supportive of me as soon as I begin to take the necessary steps (eating right, exercising). The steps they take everyday.