Victory Lap

This morning, I woke up naturally around 6 am. Normally, I can go back to sleep, but this morning, I lay awake, thinking about my impending brick workout.

I got out of bed, ate a quick breakfast, put on my ridiculously uncomfortable bike pants (seriously, this padding thing is awful), took off my ridiculously uncomfortable bike pants (never, ever forget to wear bodyglide) and got the Blue Terror down to the car...and spent a good 15 minutes cursing at my bike rack.

I got to Peirce Mill a little late (sorry guys) and after some frantic tire pumping, Rachel, Victoria, and I set out on Beach Drive. It all clicked. I know I need some start/stop work, but I didn't fall over. I remembered how to clip in/out without screaming or nearly falling. We took an out and back to Connecticut Ave.

Riding a bike is, in fact, just like...riding a bike. It comes back to you pretty quickly.

I couldn't keep up with my teammates, but they're far better athletes than I am, and at the very least, I am excited to say I pulled 17.17 miles in around 1:04. I don't know what my first hour bike ride distance was, but I'm fairly certain it was many miles shorter than that. My endurance isn't entirely gone!

Rachel and Victoria had longer bricks, so I swung back by Coach, dropped off my bike, and did a very short, 15 minute victory run lap.

I nearly made it 20 because I wasn't paying attention to the time. Slow, yes, but running felt natural. My ankle didn't seize up. My arch wasn't swelling. I was simply running.

Though I am fighting off a nap before yoga with Rachel, I can only say that I feel amazing. And I am so glad to be back.

Victory! Or, the week I started training (in earnest) again

2013 started out, in a word, crappy.

Early January, my foot was swelling at the end of long runs. I'd had ankle issues for a while now, but I mostly ignored them...until January. By early February, my entire ankle was made of #RAGE. It got to the point where running was totally out of the picture. Soon, cycling was too much, and swimming wasn't doing anyone any favors. I could literally hear grinding in my ankle and the back of my heel was turning shades of purple unknown in nature.

No one knows what caused it. No one had any perfect solutions. By mid-March, I was apoplectic every time I saw someone running (which, in DC, is frequently). But I still did my best to support runners at the RnR Half.

Finally, things started to change. My podiatrist re-fit my orthotics with a higher arch. I started seeing Erin twice a week for active release therapy, I continued to foam roll and use the stick like my life depended on it...and...I bit the bullet and took up yoga. I know, I know. But, much like my experience with Crossfit, yoga wound up surprising me. I used to be a mix of "this isn't making me sweat" and "w.t.f."

I signed up for a 6:30am flow yoga class with Yoga District in Dupont. I should say, up front, that Kat is a GREAT instructor. I'm not flexible and I'm really impatient, but class flows (ha) at a pace that keeps me moving, engaged, and focused. I loved starting my day SO much with yoga that I went ahead and signed up for Tuesday morning...and then Friday morning. Yoga feels a lot more like this:

aka: badass.

Ayla, if you want to gchat me with "I TOLD YOU SO" ^ infinitum, go for it.

A brief #miacooks interlude: my new favorite breakfast is a very simple protein shake. I use Vega protein powder at the recommendation of Christine. I do a banana, frozen strawberries, heaping tablespoon of greek yogurt from the market (no, do not buy that from the grocery), a scoop of Vega, and some almond milk. Boom. Awesome post morning workout breakfast.

I also went back to Crossfit this week. Since CFDupont is no longer (unicorn tears), I went ahead and gave Crossfit DC a shot. I got back from my first workout and talked Chadd's ear off. I said I might look around at other boxes, but I knew I'd already made up my mind.

So, come to Crossfit DC. Best box in DC. Chris and Tom know their stuff. They care about everyone there. The equipment is great. The space is epic. The vibe is like coming home. Or maybe I just missed Crossfit. Or both, who knows, but I'll go with it.

Better yet - Lindsey came to town! I was healed up in time to workout with her before she moves back to California.

This was for a photo opp. Let's not judge my form more harshly than I have.

On Wednesday, I was allowed to run precisely 1 mile at track. I'm sure my time was shameful, but my ankle didn't swell. I woke up Thursday feeling NORMAL (hence: all systems go for Crossfit).

This weekend is my first brick since...a long time. Wish me luck and enjoy the weather this weekend!

In My Skin - A Body Image Revelation

I think I’ve discovered Nirvana.

If you’ve read my blog for any length of time, you’ve witnessed first hand that I have body image issues. That’s a really dramatic sentence for a very low-drama reality. I mean really, in honesty, don’t most 20-something women have body issues?

I’ve had my share of frustrating shopping trips, poked at every area of my body before walking around in a swimsuit. I’ve pulled and pushed my stomach to figure out which way I look best. I’ve dieted, I’ve lost a lot of weight and I’ve gained weight. And through all of that, I’ve dealt with the mind games we play with ourselves. “If I just lost x pounds…if I looked like x super model…”

Let me tell you what you already know: it’s all crap.

The other night, I came home from the gym and was about to grab a shower. I shrugged my shirt off and flexed my arms in the mirror. Instead of jumping to criticism, for some reason, this time I smiled and turned so I could see my back in the adjoining mirror. I repeated this process head to toe standing there in my running capris and sports bra. Sure, I could drum up some criticism, but why? Instead of hitting myself with negative comments, I looked at myself proudly. Damn. I look strong.

And a word about shopping and fashion...This skinny jean fad is pretty much crap. Y’all, I am tired of saying to sales people and my shopping buddies “yeah, no on the skinny jeans. I have big legs” and getting this response “oh stop, you are so thin.”

I’m not saying I won’t wear skinny jeans because I think I'm fat. I’m saying I won’t wear skinny jeans because honey, these legs run marathons. I have a lot of strong, powerful, sexy muscle in my legs and I’m not ashamed of it. I’m proud of it because I worked for it. I don’t want skinny legs, mine are just fine, thanks. It would be really awesome if fashion decided to ditch the skinny jean fad, though.  Can’t a girl get a normal cut jean in one of those awesome colors? Who wants to have “matchstick” legs anyway. Eww.

I have always been concerned about my arms. You know that girl who worries about her arms in photos? That was me. But now, I look at my arms and I thank swimming. They haven’t gotten smaller, they’ve gotten stronger. My shoulders have gotten broader and stronger. And when I’m a half mile away from shore in my half IM, I will be very very grateful for all that muscle and power and strength.

For the first time in my adult life, I’m not thinking (or caring) about what I weigh or what size pants I’m wearing. I care about how fast I run, how strong I can swim, and whether or not I’m going to eat it on the bike (odds are currently 3-1 on eating it). I have no idea what I weigh and I literally have 4 different sizes in my closet (and I fit in all of them. A size label doesn't define you). I strongly suggest you put yourself on the road to finding that self acceptance. It is an astounding freedom. 

I care about my performance, my health, my strength…not so much that I’m not a waifish stick figure. I’ve actually even begun to find it unattractive and unappealing in fashion magazines to see size 00 women. And wouldn't you know...I haven't been sick (aside from the Noro Virus) in months.

If you’ve fallen into the “if I lose weight I will run faster” mindset, do yourself a favor and please read my teammate Victoria’s blog post about Weight Versus Running Speed and do some reevaluation.

So how do you get to this magical head space? The secret is not to run out and sign up for a half Ironman, nor is it to get to a point where you’re happy with your body and work like hell to stay there. It's to focus on the positive. For me, it took signing up for a half Ironman to rob me of any time for negative thought. All I can think about (and really, WANT to think about) in my spare time is how to train, when to train, gear I want need, workouts, food, etc. etc. etc. There's no time for negativity and I'm kicking myself that it's taken this long to get here. 

Take a moment and promise yourself that at least once today, you'll stop a negative body image thought and replace it with something physical about your body that you're proud of.

Being comfortable in your own skin is really worth it.

Thursday Mountains

Last week was busy for me. When I would say that a few months ago, that meant something much different than it means now. Prior to training I was busy, but after training, I feel like I've put a moratorium on a lot of things. Namely, hanging out with my friends (sorry guys) has been the first thing to go.

I barely got my workouts done last week. I managed to double up my Tuesday after work so I could still get to Miriam's Kitchen in the morning, I did my track workout at home before Chadd and I went out to a concert (Anti-Flag!) on Wednesday, but by the time Thursday morning rolled around, I was drained. My alarm went off at 4:45 and I just.couldn't.do.it. I had plans with the girls after work, and I stayed later than I intended at the office, so by the time I got back, it was all I could do to finish cleaning and uncork the champagne. I know, what a rough life.

What I hadn't really anticipated was the extreme guilt and disappointment I felt missing that workout. I'd managed every other workout for the past three weeks. It felt like I'd just knocked down the sandcastle I'd built meticulously. Everyone in my support system assured me that it was probably for the best that I miss a workout at some point in the beginning or I'd have a total meltdown further down the road (with an even BIGGER sandcastle). And they're right...but that doesn't change that FREAKOUTYOUMISSEDAWORKOUT urge I have.

As I've said before, my biggest problem is that I'm all or nothing. I need strict schedules or I just wander around or sit on my couch. As much as I want middle ground, I just don't have it. Diets? All or nothing. New to running? Let's try a marathon. How about triathlons? Half Ironman it is!

The hardest thing for me about this new training has been the dedication that it requires - and not in the way that I imagined. I am fortunate enough to like working out. I appreciate that sweaty, tired feeling you get after a long run or a good class or rocking the weights...but like I said before, when I dedicate to something, I'm pedal to the medal, all or nothing, do or die. Maybe y'all knew that already considering my decision to do the National Harbor 70.3 without having done a smaller triathlon first.... I'm still learning this about myself. But it's the dedication to ease up on myself - to be balanced. You know that person who diets, eats only salads and lean protein for three weeks then splurges at the all you can eat buffet and gains their hard lost pounds right back? That is so me. I have to learn the dedication to not freak out over something as much as I need the dedication to make my workouts, work as hard as I can and following my training program.

I did take some time last weekend to put myself together. I'd complained about this earlier so I made some time to get my nails done, get a pedicure with Rachael, have my hair done on Monday, and bought all the make up I needed. Finally, back to my old self. Sometimes, it's the low-hanging fruit that can make all the difference in the world.

Speaking of Thursdays, it must be a thing. My alarm went off, as planned, at 5 this morning. Bryan was awesome and set my bike up on the trainer last night, but I just couldn't get out of bed. This may have had something to do with the fact that I was up too late and I'm working off a sleep deficit, but Thursdays are my new mountain.

Thankfully, the trainer is still set up and I'll be scaring my cats (i.e. sitting on the trainer) for a bit tonight. The only plans I have involve picking up my race bib and enjoying quality time with Alicia and Bryan (and Eliot!) unless work decides to go nuts in the next 3 hours (which it may well do).

I have to say...after having the bike for a month and not getting to ride it just yet...I'm really stoked to sit on it for a bit tonight!

And with that, if you're going to be at the Rock n Roll expo tonight, let me know!

Four Courts Four Miler

I have a post percolating in the back of my mind, but since it's not ready yet and it's not the kind of tone to start a week, I'll tell y'all about my awesome Saturday.

I had signed up for the Pacer's Four Courts Four Miler a while back, before I lost my mind and signed up for the National Harbor 70.3. My coach rearranged my training schedule a little bit and instead of having to run 12 miles prior to this race (seriously, guys, this was my plan...and this is also while I have a coach), I ran 4 miles around my neighborhood, then popped in the car and met up with Blair and Anne at Blair's house.

We walked to Four Courts in Clarendon, dropped off our bags and took our place in the corral. Here's me in my Ragnar gear!

I was standing next to this guy:

I hope when I'm this old, I'm badass enough to run a race like this, much less do it in wind shorts and a singlet...

The gun went off and though it was a clear, cold and [very] windy day in Rosslyn, I suddenly felt warm and tingly. Running felt like it made sense again and looking down the Rosslyn hill, I felt totally effortless. 

The Four Courts Four course is very deceptive and a real test of how well runners can adequately pace themselves. The first 1.5 miles fly down the Rosslyn hill and finish the second mile out on 395. That hill is FAST. I checked my watch at mile 1:

Mile 1 Split: 6:50 - w.t.f. Y'all, I have NEVER run a sub 7, ever. This is a huge accomplishment for me and even though I knew in a horrifying mile I'd be regretting is all the way to the finish line, I didn't care. I didn't care that the downhill gave me that ability to get under 7.

I slowed down A LOT at this point because I knew that a bonk was going to come, even if it was only a 4 mile race. 

Mile 2: 8:06(ish): If only I'd kept the first mile all in the tank, I bet I could have managed this pace on the way back up.

Mile 3-4: Roughly a 9 minute mile. Alas. I'm fine with the 9 minute, but it was such a wild swing back from the first mile. And I certainly felt the horrible hill coming back up, to the point where I started to wonder if I needed an inhaler - I felt like I couldn't get a deep enough breath (something I almost never ever experience).

I tried to stay with a guy who was also huffing and chugging up the mountain hill and managed it for a bit, but just couldn't get a breath deep enough to justify it.

I still finished in 33:06, 50th in my division (of 396), and did better than last year (33:32). I also beat the Leprechaun (again) - Robbie Wade is a craycray fast runner/area semi-pro triathlete. They let him go about 20 minutes after the start of the race. For every person he passes, Pacers donates a dollar to a good cause, and if you make it to the end before Robbie, you get a water bottle. Watching Robbie run is a beautiful thing. He was running just over a 5 minute mile and the sight of his fluid, effortless run was just an amazing experience.

I finished the race and waited for Blair to tackle the mountain. We tracked down the Leprechaun!

Check out those awesome hot pink compression sleeves. Love them so hard.

I was flagged down by a couple while we were waiting for Anne who saw my jacket and were interested in running Ragnar! See, guys! I am a good ambassador :)

I told them that they shouldn't "think" about running Ragnar, they should simple sign up today and do it! What was really cool was that this guy's grandfather actually had a major role in creating the state park where Ragnar DC starts! How amazing is the running community? While I was talking to this couple, I happened to see fellow Ragnar Ambassador: Amanda M.

I had an epic brunch with Anne and Blair afterwards:

French toasty goodness. You can't see the beer in that photo, too.

Saturday was a great day for a race, and an even better day for catching up with fellow crazy triathlete, Rachael.  Rachael and I met up for a quick cup of coffee then experienced what is quite possibly the most excruciatingly amazing experience ever: a pedicure with paraffin and a massage chair on crack.

We went with awesome colors:

In case you can't tell, my toes are basically Barbie Neon Pink. And amazing.

I really love spending time with Rachael because, she too, is insane and signed up for an Olympic distance triathlon, despite being a runner (and only a runner!) just like me. We've been tweeting back and forth about our successes and failures (none so far!) and the aches, pains, and bottomless pit of a stomach we seem to have as we learn how to balance three sports instead of one.

Rachael is raising money for Team in Training in memory of her mother. I didn't get the chance to meet her mother, but I can tell you this - she must have been some kind of extra amazing for raising a woman like Rachael. If you have $5, it would mean a lot to me (and to Rachael!) if you could pop over to her fundraising page and let her know you support her.

And with that, happy Monday! Hope my fellow morning workout-doers aren't suffering too much with the time change.

Breaking Through

If I could bottle and sell the way I felt in the pool Tuesday night, I could be a billionaire.

I'll admit, I had some hesitation going into Tuesday night's workout. I had to be at Miriam's Kitchen in the morning, so my normal 2 a day was going to be compressed into one, huge workout after work.

My day was stressful at the office so by the time I left, I was pretty keyed up and already stressing about my workout. Once I got home I realized I was doing exactly what I'd said I wouldn't do in my last post...go into a workout knowing I was going to be miserable.

Instead, I pulled together a spin class that I was really excited about. Three huge mountains, some speed work, but mostly strength work. Class looked like this:

Walking in Memphis (Marc Cohn): Warm Up

Sweet Thing (Keith Urban): Warm Up 

Impossible (Anberlin): Climb (alternate 2 minutes in saddle, 2 out, moderate incline)

The End With You (Box Car Racer): Climb (alternate 2 minutes in saddle, 2 out, strong incline)

Think About Me (Goo Goo Dolls): Hill Spikes (seated, 30 seconds fast flat, 30 seconds strong resistance)

Bleed American (Jimmy Eat World): Speed work: 30 seconds fast, 30 seconds normal (1x) 45-15 (remainder)

Injection (Rise Against): Running

Breakdown (Forever the Sickest Kids): Jumps (4 beats, full song) 

Scartissue (Red Hot Chili Peppers): Fast Flat/Recovery

Drive (Incubus): Seated strong incline

This is Who We Are (Cartel): standing strong incline

One in a Lifetime (Talking Heads): seated flat for 15 seconds, strong standing incline 45 seconds

Your Misfortune (Mike Doughty): 3 minutes in saddle with moderate resistance, 1 minute out of saddle, strong resistance 

Forever Lost (Pretty Lights): 3 minutes in saddle with moderate resistance, 1 minute out of saddle, strong resistance

Druken Lullabies (Flogging Molly): 30 seconds surge, 30 seconds running, 30 seconds out of saddle climb

Summer Skin (Death Cab for Cutie): Cool Down

You Are Mine (Mute Math): Cool Down

Aria and I chatted while I closed up the class. She'd stayed for my class, so she'd already done her two hours and I thought "Mia, it's only two hours...this isn't some sort of Mt. Everest. Just go do it." I threw on my bathing suit, rinsed off my sweat, and headed down to the pool.

I strongly suggest hitting up the pool at night at the Y. Around 8:30, no one is in the pool. Even with two lanes reserved for the Masters Swim, I had an entire lane to myself for an hour. The only downer about this whole experience were the foot/toe cramps and the charlie horse that kept flaring up. I get it, bananas, I promise I'll start eating you again.

My swim workout was: 

200 Warm Up

3 x 75 (25 drill, 25 fast, 25 easy)

1 x 400

4 x 150 (odd fast, even easy)

1 x 400

5 x 25 (all fast with 15 seconds rest between each)

200 Cool Down

This was my first time trying out drills. Here's a great video that Coach sent out with basic drills. I tried the catch up drill and the one armed drill and was pleasantly surprised. I will say that maybe I need to take the video's advice and try using an object in front of me to accurately do the catch-up drill. I was constantly starting with my other arm too early.

The first 200 was easy. I mean, it's a warm up, so it should be. But y'all, three short weeks ago, a 200 was a death march. Heart rate up, I tackled the 3x75s and blew through those.

The first four hundred. Talk about a mental hurdle. This is 16 lengths of my pool. For you new runners out there, it's the same mental freak out as me saying "let's do 16 laps of the track!" I got through the 4 hundred with only a few seconds of clinging to the edge here and there. 

The 4x150's took a surprisingly long time, but, for the first time, I FINALLY felt like I had some speed control. And let me tell you, the fast odd lengths were amazing. I kept saying to myself over and over again, "triathlete, triathlete, triathlete" "iron, iron, iron."

I finished the rest of the workout with minimal cramping and headed home. The soreness kicked in halfway through the biggest loser, but it HURT SO GOOD. This isn't the first time I've done two hours of workouts in a row. I've going to Les Mills certifications and gone for 2+ hour training runs, but for some reason, Tuesday night was different. Maybe it was the pool? Regardless.

That accomplishment, that pain I experienced waking up on Wednesday was a great feeling. My muscles were tired, but happy. For the first time, I felt like a triathlete. And that's why it's worth it.

Wednesday Motivation and Affirmation

Just a quick post on this rainy day to remind you that whatever it is that you are chasing, be it a 5k, a marathon, an Ironman or any other goal in life that you can do it if you dedicate yourself to it.

I strongly recommend signing up for daily emails from Tut's Adventurers' Club. It's a little new agey sometimes for my taste, but then I get emails like this:

The presumption, Mia, at all times and under all circumstances, should always be that you are good enough, worthy enough, and lovable enough. And that you are exactly the right kind of person, in the right place, at the right time. Otherwise, you wouldn't have been instilled with such dreams in the first place.

Ain't that the truth.

From the girl who never thought she'd run more than a 15 minute mile, let me promise you that amazing things are possible if you believe you can do it.

Happy Wednesday!

When Running Becomes Who You Are, Not What You Do

The first mile I ever ran (without stopping) took me 15 minutes, flat. Huffing and puffing, I hit STOP on the treadmill and felt like I had just climbed Everest. I felt so proud of myself. I ran a mile. Without stopping. I can still feel the blood pulsing in my temple as I woozily got off the treadmill at the Y in Oviedo.

Thursday night after my spin class, half way through my half hour core workout, I was thinking about how I'd found myself on the road to an Ironman 70.3 and, let's be real, a full Ironman. I thought of myself on that treadmill and the dogged pursuit of a full, running mile.

Chadd is fond of reminding me that I can run a half marathon with very little training when I'm down on myself. How did I get from that 1, 15 minute mile to a half marathon in the tank? I wished I knew. I felt like I had accidentally stumbled into this life. Don't get me wrong, I still felt very grateful, but it felt less like a goal, more like an accident on Thursday.

Sunday afternoon, while I was cleaning the house and Chadd was at the gym, I had a bit of an emotional breakdown. Bryan, the voice of sanity in my crazy workout world , and I made a pact a few years ago: I would do an Ironman if he would do a marathon (right, Bryan? I can't remember the exact terms, but they were outrageous). I was at a point in the job I held then where I was so miserable and down on myself (just like I felt before I registered for the half Ironman) that I was ready to take the deal. Whenever Bryan or I have been particularly down or in need of encouragement, this video gets passed back and forth via email. Maybe y'all think that's the exact opposite of encouragement, but between Bryan and myself, it's the perfect medicine.

My joints aching, I decided to watch that video again. Halfway through, I totally lost my cool and started crying. As I described to Bryan, "I legit had a 'hold the cat and sob' moment while watching the 'you will do this' video." But I wasn't crying from sadness or exhaustion (ok, maybe some exhaustion). I was crying because I so clearly saw myself on that treadmill, 10 years ago, begging my body for that mile and because I am so proud of myself. It was like watching myself through all my running accomplishments:

- the first, wretched mile
- the first long run (9 miles, in a victoria's secret cotton outfit - bad bad bad plan)
- the first time I did 20 miles
- my first expo (Marine Corps marathon!)
- running a 5k turkey trot with my brother and mom
- the first time I ran after foot surgery
- the second marathon and all the tears, toenails and blood that came from that one
- Ragnar.
- Ragnar Ragnar Ragnar
- My first sub-8 mile (downhill at the 4 courts 4)
- The first time I pulled a half marathon out of thin air on no training (Marine Corps Half Marathon)
- My brother's first half marathon

The list goes on. But suddenly, running didn't seem like something I do...it became something I am. And I was so damn proud that all I could do was cry. I clutched our big, stupid cat, crying into his fur and said, "this isn't very iron, is it?" Or maybe that's what being Iron is all about.

This week was a great week in training - I almost hit 9 hours of training, and minus a very tweaky shoulder, I felt fabulous. I can see myself getting in better shape, stronger, healthier. I learned how to swim effectively (and less scarily!), ran 12 miles at a decent pace and got away with not being sore on Sunday.

Best part of the week? My Saturday run showed off weather like this:

So, moral of the story is this - you have it in you, whatever it is that you want to do. Sometimes, you just have to make it past the first 15 minute mile of your life with one foot in front of the other.

My Body Does What? Also: Porta-Potties

4 days til the marathon and my fears are actually starting to lift away.

I keep replaying Chadd telling me "it's just running.  It's not like this isn't something you don't know how to do, just go run."

It's also made so much better by the fact that my two very dear friends, Maureen and FJ, have volunteered to run a couple miles with me.  Technically, it's not allowed, but no one is ever stopped from running for a couple miles.  Maureen and I have a history of running together--accidentally or on purpose.  She and I usually wind up beating our PRs with each other because we think we're keeping the other back...that's how I crushed the Cherry Blossom 10 Miler at an 8:09 pace.

FJ is my iron man.  He ran Ragnar with me and literally had that name on the back of his shirt: "Iron Man."  FJ recently qualified for Boston and is a total inspiration to me--he's volunteered to run as many miles with me as I want.  And since he did his qualifying marathon two weeks ago, I'm not too concerned about his ability to do as many miles as I need.  I've asked him to be there for miles 16-20ish.

I've decided to run without my ipod for the majority of the race.  That truly was one of the best things about the marathon the first time--was the sound of runners.  It's a symphony of foot steps, breathing, whispers of encouragement, occasionally laughter, the crowd cheering, marching bands playing...and it feels at times like you are simply carried along by the runners around you.

Yes, there are moments when your body is in excruciating pain...probably best summarized by this WaPo article

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-srv/special/section/Marine-Corps-Marathon-2010-Ready-or-not-graphic/index.html

I love especially the bit about the brain:

"The brain does not want the body to run into harm, so it will reduce its electrical impulses to the muscles--in other words, it will stop telling them to move.


Ready?...Or Not: The untrained brain has little or no experience with an effort of this magnitude.  If the body pushes too hard, the brain receives a cacophony of threatening signals--Temperature is rising! Fuel is disappearing! My engines can't take much more of this, Captain!"

That author is CLEARLY a runner.

Then you read articles like this:
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2010/10/19/AR2010101903617.html

And you think to yourself: I am not lucky to run, I am blessed to run.  I was passed in the Army 10 miler by a double amputee doing the race on two prosthetics.  I felt like a huge jerk because I was just mentally complaining about how much it hurt and how much I didn't want to do it...it's the little reminders that keep your mind and body putting one foot in front of the other and to smile while doing it.

In the humor section...runners around the world are giving a big thumbs up to the Marine Corps Marathon race director who very clearly told Comedy Central to shove it when they asked if they could use the porta potties for the Steward/Colbert rallies the day before.

http://www.aolnews.com/nation/article/stewart-colbert-rallies-looking-for-a-few-good-porta-potties/19664942?a_dgi=aolshare_facebook

I love comedy, I love Stewart and Colbert, and I wish I could go to the rallies (I'm probably skipping in favor of the race expo and staying off my feet as much as possible since my angry heel is still, well, angry) but guys....the race has been planned for months and while I'm sure it will come through, your permit hasn't even been approved yet...and we've had ours for months.  And let me tell you, I don't believe you for one second that Comedy Central would be able to get them cleaned out and restocked in time for our race.  Don't throw a fit and tell us we're being unfair.  I paid good money for those porta potties to be there and clean, well-stocked, and useable for me when I'm running.  So unless some of the money that Comedy Central was offering to the MCM was going to go to crediting my race fee or to the Injured Marines fund, you can find your own potties.

A big heart felt thank you to the race director.  Thanks for standing up for us.  I'll think of you during all of my bathroom stops before/during/after the race.

Body Pump Launch

Yes yes, it's 12:30 and I should be asleep.  But I have to share something that I totally forgot to talk about today.

Last night (tuesday night) we launched Body Pump (by Les Mills) at the Y and literally had to turn people away because we maxed out our class!  40 people!  I cannot tell you how amazing it is to have a full, energy-driven, group of people take your class.

A big shout-out goes to my amazing instructor friends for all the work they've done, the times we've shared sweating, maybe bleeding, crying, and laughing over the past two months getting ready for this.

National Capitol YMCA BodyPump Crew!

I also want to take this moment to brag.  Observe:

Yes, that is my right leg and no, my quads are not photo shopped.  I haven't had my runner's legs since...2006.  Want runner's legs too?  Easy.  Come to BodyPump!  (No joke, this is the most awesome workout I've ever taught) I'm teaching a week from this Thursday with Steph.  I'm going to try to put together a foam rolling class afterwards, but it might just be abs and stretch for now.

For my 20-20-20 class: FJ is going to be teaching my class this Sunday since I'll be in New York seeing my best friend from high school.  

100 Posts Later, I Stood Up For Myself

I want to be an Olympian.  It's terribly depressing to me that I generally suck at every sport or physical activity I've ever done aside from aerobics and running.  Last I checked, there isn't a gold metal in yelling and stepping in place, and I'm not built for running that turns into competitive running.  I'm not just saying that--I have a broken foot (now healed)  to prove it.

I hope everyone's been watching the Olympics.  This is actually my first year of really truly watching the winter Olympics, which I usually watch for the ice skating and then forget are on.  I really think that the winter Olympics are by far the most dangerous combination of sports that exist.  Sadly, we have a reminder of that with the death of the Georgian luger, and you only need to watch a downhill alpine skiing race for 5 minutes to see a wipe out that could potentially kill or severely injure anyone.  Like any NASCAR fan, I've waited for the crashes, but I've also come to hail these athletes as some of the best in existence.  I'm amazed by their abilities.  It inspires me to do better, to train harder, and to say something to my counselor at work I hadn't really expected to say.

We have a review 2x a year where we're given a rating on a scale.  My counselor is a good guy, he works hard and he cares about my progress.  He began our conversation by talking a little bit about the next step in my career and the types of activities I'd need to be doing to move from being a good, solid employee, to an exemplary one.  I've seen friends of mine hit this point in their career and I want nothing to do with it.  Work life balance becomes a lot more of a work life blend.  I could go on, but I won't.  It's a choice that people make and if that's their passion, far be it from me to condemn them.  It just isn't mine.

I stopped him and told him that I was fine being a good, solid employee, that my passion was really in what I did outside of the office (fitness), and since its company policy that they're okay with me having a work/life balance, and that they are happy when we're good, solid employees, then I had made up my mind.

Bottom line: For the first time in my life, I haven't given 110% to something.  I've only given 100% because I want to dedicate whatever spare time I have to being an instructor, a trainer, and an athlete in my own right.  Why?  Because it makes me want to get up in the morning.  Simply and honestly put, it's my passion.

My counselor, bless him, looked at me for a moment and then really surprised me by saying:
"I am really glad to hear you say that.  It's really the first time I've gotten to see your personality, normally you just tell me everything's fine.  You seem a lot happier; I'll support you in that decision and I'll defend you if it comes to that."

What a weight off of my shoulders.  So, with that, I'm ordering my personal training studying materials, and getting to work. I now have 120 days to certify.

One of my gyms has also asked if I would be interested in representing them at a Les Mills certification for Body Pump (one of my favorite classes).  Three days of learning and doing, and I cannot wait.  What an great gift to be chosen!

Chadd, the most wonderful boyfriend, gave me my birthday present last weekend at dinner:  personal training sessions.  Ever concerned about my self image, he prefaced the gift by saying that if I wasn't interested, I didn't have to accept the gift and that this shouldn't reflect at all on me, but that he thought this was something I would enjoy.  You can imagine my reaction...

OMG WHY WOULD YOU THINK I WOULDN'T WANT THIS OMG OMG OMG THIS IS THE BEST GIFT EVER

I freaked out a little. I have always wanted my own trainer to push me.  Hell, Olympians have trainers!  The most elite athletes in the world have trainers!  SIGN ME UP!  Chadd's intention was two fold: not only do I want my own trainer, but since I'm taking my exam soon, he wanted to make sure that I had someone who could help me as I got ready.  How awesome.

In summation, on this Friday afternoon, I feel like I've done a Herculean feat--I stood up for my passion and I was supported.  Do something today to stand up for your passion and tell me how good it feels

Baby Steps

Hello blog world! 

I have to share, tonight I had an audition with the sports club where both Chadd and I go.  I finally bit the bullet and asked about their sub list.  I do like going to a gym where I'm only a client...but the more I've gone, the more I've loved it and the more I wanted to be a part of that culture.

I auditioned with the group ex coordinator who shares my dream of making fitness a full time occupation.  She's actually done it and we had a great conversation about it.  I taught a brief combo, I showed her some more advanced moves I knew, etc.

Offered the slot on the sub list on the spot!  One step closer to my dreams of being in a gym all day. 

There Is No Finish Line

Today begins a new month and according to a variety of sources, this is supposed to be a month of great change and new beginnings and wonderful things happening.  Whether or not that's true, focus on it and it will happen.  "Thoughts become things, so choose good ones."

Keep in mind that health and fitness is not an end goal, it's a way of life.  Weightloss may come to an end and maintenence may begin, but that doesn't mean to abandon everything.  This is one of my favorite Nike ads:

Make health and fitness a way of life this month and you'll never have to worry about it again.

Second post coming later today about how I got to where I am!

The Realist's Situation

Last night, Chadd came home and woke me up around quarter of 1 to show me the new coat he got that finally came in the mail.

Normally, this would have irritated me, save two things:
1) This coat literally caused a fashion emergency in Vegas.  Only my boyfriend would be as straight as he is (he's basically 1 degree away from being a lumberjack, no offense to gay lumberjacks) and have a fashion emergency.  Long story, we had the coat shipped in from California.

2) I had something to show off too.  (See below)

Slightly related...
Did you watch The Jersey Shore?  If you didn't, that was dumb.  It was an awesome good/bad/so bad it's good MTV trash show.  There is one clown in particular on this show you should be aware of--Mike.  Mike the Situation.

Would you like to know why he is called Mike The Situation?  Of course you would.

Wait for it at 12 seconds.  That's his "Situation."  Literally, people, his abs are a situation and he calls himself Mike The Situation because of his freakish abs.

Back to point 2 of why I didn't mind that Chadd woke me up.

Folks.  The Realist has a situation.  It's not enough of a situation to be capitalized like properly named abs or be called "The" anything...but it's a freaking situation! I HAVE A SITUATION, HERE!

I'm almost at the point where I need a unique nickname for my developing situation.  Like "the business" or something.  Suggestions are welcome.

I went to bed prepared in a sports bra and running shorts.  I wouldn't exactly say that I "hopped" out of bed, but once Chadd managed to get me to open my eyes and get out of bed to see his coat in the gleaming light of the kitchen it suddenly dawned on me why I was freezing to death instead of wearing sweats.

"Look at my situation," I told him.

I was praised adequately and sent back to bed where I fell asleep in less than 1 minute.  If I get a big enough ego, I'm posting pictures.