8 miles

I did it!  Yesterday, I ran 8 miles on the treadmill, including some very difficult intervals.  I was dreading this workout, worried that it would be too hard for me, so I was seriously stoked to have nailed it.     

Post-workout celebratory selfie in my car!  

The workout (all intervals done at 8:00/mile pace):

2 mile warm-up

1 x 400 m 200 m easy recovery run

1 x 800 m with 400 m easy recovery run

1 x 1200 m with 400 easy recovery run

1 x 1 mile with 800 m easy recovery run

1 x 800 m with 400 m easy recovery run

1 x 400 with 200 m easy recovery run

Run relatively easy until I hit 8 miles total 

I was most dreading that mile interval!  I haven't run an entire mile at that pace in, well, years!  

But I was able to run all of the intervals, and it didn't feel nearly as hard as I thought it would.  It was tough, though, and true to form, I was a stinky, sweaty beast by the end.  

I did this workout as part of training plan that I am following to hopefully be able to break the 2 hour mark in the half-marathon.  My next half is on June 18th, the Seattle Rock 'n Roll Half-Marathon.  Fingers crossed that I'll be able to crush my goal!

When I got home, I decided that what my babies needed most was a big hug from their fragrant mommy.  This is what Maddie thought of that plan:

"Oh, Mommy...gross."  

Tess quickly decided that she needed my phone more than I did.  

Tyler and I took Tess to Fred Meyer yesterday, and I loved seeing her walk around, cookie in hand with her "camera" around her neck...

On the way home, she showed me what a sad face looks like:

This wee babe makes us laugh every day.  She has been a hilarious ray of sunshine during this dark period of unemployment.  But good news!!!  Tyler got a job yesterday!  He starts work on Monday, and we are SO grateful!  We are feeling supremely blessed and loved.  Yippee!!!

I also took my Maddie to Tae Kwon Do yesterday (she goes three days a week).  It was fun watching her talk with her friend, Kylie, and to see her hone her deadly ninja skills.  

Two blondies: Maddie & Kylie

Have a wonderful day!

Eureka

I think it has finally clicked.  

I think Heavenly Father answered my prayers and allowed me to, at last, GET IT.  

I'll explain...

For many, many years I have struggled with what my therapist calls "disordered thinking" concerning food.  I have classified foods as either "good" or "bad", and obsessed over the "right" way to eat since high school, if not earlier.  I have cultivated guilt and hated myself for not eating "perfectly", and my body for not being as lean and as trim as I thought it should be.  It has all gotten progressively worse over the years.  It recently turned into a miserable, dangerous cycle of deprivation and bingeing.  I have been feeling like my choices were either to white-knuckle my way through a life without sweets, treats, and desserts (in order to have the body I think I should want and have), or to just eat whatever I wanted whenever I wanted it and live with the resulting chubby figure.  I couldn't imagine being happy with being chubby, but I also couldn't see how I could be happy without indulging in all those "bad" foods.  And eating the way that I wanted to would make looking the way I wanted to impossible.  I sometimes felt like a toddler throwing a tantrum.  Why couldn't I have my cake, but not look like I ate it, too?  My therapist diagnosed me with an eating disorder (no surprise) last fall, and since then, I have wondered if I would ever be free of the tyranny of yet another mental illness. 

I know that happiness is not dependent on body size or shape, and I know that no food is either "good" or "bad".  I know better, and that has made the aforementioned struggle all the more bitter and frustrating.  But knowing isn't believing.  I have prayed, talked to my therapist, and read various articles and books in a quest to find peace with food.  To find peace with my body.  To be kind to myself.  And last week, as I thought about food for the thousandth time that day, it suddenly just...clicked.  Slid into place.  I knew that I wanted to be kind to myself.  To my body.  And I finally believed that being kind means giving my body what it needs to feel energized and healthy.  It doesn't equal deprivation or unbridled eating.  That is abuse.  It usually means passing on the sweets, treats, and desserts, because those foods almost always make me feel sick.  Even when I'm not bingeing on them.  But it also means that sometimes my body wants those foods, and when that is the case, it can have them.  Without judgment.  

I keep coming back to the word kindness.  I have been so mean, cruel and awful to myself for as long as I can remember.  I know that depression, anxiety, and the eating disorder provided most of the impetus for all this nastiness, but I can fight back.  I can be kind to myself.  And I think that what kindness means, for me, will probably vary.  It won't involve a rigid plan.  

I know this isn't some radical new idea.  My therapist has told me many times that sometimes you simply have to wait for lightning to strike: when the knowledge that you have becomes the belief that guides your actions.  

While running in the sun today, I was suddenly shot through with a surge of total happiness.  I almost started crying as I realized that I was HAPPY.  That emotion is so rare for me.  I feel like peace with food is now possible.  That I can see how that can be accomplished.  For me.  

If it can happen to me, it can happen to you.  God cares about what we care about.  Don't give up if the lightning hasn't struck for you yet!  It can, and it will.  Keep doing your best.  Keep looking for help and answers.  They'll come.  I am proof.  

As I ran today, I also experienced a feeling that I've had a few other times while exercising: that the way I feel when I am exercising (especially running) is who I am.  It's me when I am stripped of the insecurities, mental illnesses, and everyday fears and stressors.  I feel strong and capable and powerful and kind.  I feel like I'm worth something.  I really like that person.  And as I am kind to myself through my relationship with food, I think I'll be seeing a lot more of her.  

On a side note, I am really excited to see what I can accomplish as an athlete when I'm not abusing myself with food.  To that end, I began going to Body Pump again this week.  I need to strength train more if I want to get faster and stronger!  

Me 'n my Body Pump bar.

After 60 minutes of Body Pump, I jumped on the Step Mill for 30 minutes and tried to set a record for how much sweat a person can produce in that amount of time.  Ugh.  I am such a sweaty beast when I work out indoors.  I always feel a little self-conscious whenever anyone gets on the machine next to me: "Please, God, don't let them smell me!!!"  Thank goodness for deodorant!  :)

Look at those sexy drops of sweat on the step...awwww, yeah.  

And just because she's darling, here's a picture of Tess to enjoy:

Running errands with Mommy and Daddy today. 

Thanks for reading!

Chorus Run

On Thursday, I decided to do a "chorus run".  If I'm running solo, I always listen to music on my iPod.  So, for a chorus run, I pick up the pace whenever I'm listening to the chorus of a song.  I'm not sprinting, but I increase my speed by at least a minute per mile.  I ran an easy 2-mile warm-up, and then did a 2.5-mile chorus run.  I am not a big fan of speed work (it hurts!), so the unpredictable nature of this workout appeals to me.  I have no idea how many "reps" I have left to do, so I'm not constantly thinking about how much longer I have to suffer.  As much.  :)  I have learned, though, that the last part of a song is almost always all chorus.  Agh!  After the bridge, bam! 

I like thinking that this type of workout prepares me for surging past people in races.  And no matter how tired I am, when that chorus comes, I go for it.  It reminds me that I can still pick up the pace with tired legs.  

My knees started aching a tiny bit during this run, for the first time in months.  I realized then that I'd been neglecting the strength exercises that I think were instrumental in my finally returning to running last year.  As soon as I got home, the repentance process began, and I reminded my knees that I do indeed love them.  I thought I'd share two of these exercises with y'all, in case your knees are a bit sad.  

*Disclaimer: I am not a physical therapist, but these exercises were prescribed to me by one.  If you have further questions about how to do these exercises, you should probably not count on me, but consult a pro.  

The first exercise consists of the above and below pictures.  You bend the leg you're standing on until your knee is lined up over your first couple of toes (for me, this means that my knee follows a slightly diagonal path, slanting inwards).  As you straighten that leg, you squeeze your bum, both to strengthen it, and to remind it to fire and support your legs when you're running.  

Bonus: a cuter bum!  Ha.  :)  

I do 15 reps, slowly, followed by 15 faster ones, on each leg.  30 reps total.  

The next exercise targets your hips.  It's a tough one!  For me, anyway.  The exercise is simple, though.  See below:

You lay on one side with your back against the wall, and lift your top leg up until it's basically vertical and then lower it back down.  40 reps on each leg.  This sets my muscles on fire.  It's awesome.  And yes, I always look this happy when I work my hips.  

I try to do these exercises, along with planks, at least three days a week.  

New birthday outfit #2!  The tank top is from Old Navy, and the capris are from Athleta, and I LOVE the pants.  The tank, too, but oh, the pants!  They're so comfy and move with me perfectly when I run.  I wore them again today on a run with my new running buddies (a topic for another post).  They are seriously the coolest women, and I'm feeling very lucky that they're letting me crash their running party.  

About to get out of the car to run with my buds.  6:30 a.m.  Look at all that light!  Spring is coming!  

Thirty-seven.

On February 22nd, at 10:23 a.m., MST, I turned 37.  THIRTY-SEVEN.  I realize that this is not old.  By most people's standards, I am still young, with (hopefully!) many happy, healthy years ahead of me.  But I find this birthday sobering.  Beginning with my 36th birthday, I have felt a bit overwhelmed with a feeling of, "Time is running out!"  Time for what?  I'm not sure.  My therapist assures me that the Mid-Life Crisis is as certain as puberty, and that everyone will go through it, no matter how enlightened they are.  Comforting, yes, but I still wish I could avoid it.  Once again, I'm feeling the urge to pierce something.  :)  

What my face in this picture says to me: "I may be 37, but if you call me old, I'll cut you!"  

My first run as a 37-year-old, on the 23rd, required the presence of Tess.  I slept in that morning, as I struggled to emerge from my sugar coma.  I don't like running with the jogging stroller, but it was worth pushing that heavy beast to get my run in.  We breezed through 6.2 miles, except not, because stroller + cute toddler = a lot of weight.  But it was a lovely run, IN THE SUN!  I passed many a flowering bush, and feeling the sun's warmth made me especially eager for spring and summer runs.  

My darling running coach.  She likes to yell, "Go, go, go!" 

Post-run, cooling down with some walking.  Try not to be jealous of the horse bum on my forehead.  I am nothing if not stylish.

Tess was hitting the bottle hard...

I realized recently that I couldn't wash the stink out of most of my workout clothes.  To be fair, those poor clothes have suffered as receptacles of my sweat for a long, long time and through many, many workouts.  It was time to set them free (i.e. burn them).  So, I asked for workout clothes for my birthday, and boy, did my family deliver!  Here's what I wore for that first run:

  

Love!  And so far, they cling in all the right places, and stay where they're supposed to as I jiggle down the road.  As I wear the other ones, I'll let you see those, too.  The top is a tank top and the pants are actually capris.  This outfit is from Old Navy, and though much less expensive than so many other workout outfits, appears to be good-quality gear.  Time will tell.  

So far, so good, 37. 

The Big 3-0!

On Monday, I was able to run for THIRTY consecutive, pain-free minutes!!!  

It made me SO happy.  

I am on my way back to the runner I was, and moving on towards the runner I want to be.  

This morning, I woke up at 5 a.m. and ran for 32 consecutive, pain-free minutes!  More joy!  The above picture was my view at the end of my run, while I stretched on my porch.  The fog was thick, but it was still quite warm outside.  

Today also marked milestones for two of my babies: 

The first day of 4th grade for Maddie!

The first day of 7th grade for Maia!  

Only four years until Tess starts Kindergarten.  I think I can, I think I can, I think I can...  :)  

Flashes of Joy

Recently, I was talking to my therapist about my conscious search for non-food sources of joy.  After applauding my brilliance and suggesting that perhaps I should be counseling HER (haha), she cautioned me to remember that what brings me joy one day might not do so the next.  And that's okay!  She suggested thinking of it in these terms: that I am going to view my world with "joy glasses".  I will be looking for those flashes of joy that vary in intensity, duration and frequency.  There will be mornings when the sight of Tess' cherubic, smiling face will make my heart melt, and others when that same sight makes me scream in my mind, "For the love of all that is good and holy, GO BACK TO BED!"  :)

Lately, these are some of the things and moments that have registered on my joy radar:

Tess was delighted to hide out in Maddie's canopy with her big sister.  After awhile, she had a huge pile of stuffed animals piled up in there, too.  

Tess' impeccable fashion sense!  

During a break in the rain today, Tess spent a long time stirring a concoction of rainwater and chunks of chalk in a bucket.  

She was pretty excited about her mad stirrin' skills.

I made the girls go on a walk together this afternoon.  Unless commanded, they rarely move all that much.  It's so frustrating!  Does anyone else have that issue with their children?  At first, they were really grumpy about it, but after awhile I caught this moment of kindness and then the beautiful smiles below.  Mothering win!  :)

Tess eventually joined in on the walking action.  She can't let her big sisters have ALL the fun.  

Girls' Night!  Tonight, I was able to enjoy the company of two of my favorite people, Tina and Kayleen.  We went to the Iron Rabbit (go there, local friends!  It's great!) for dinner and dessert.  Yes, I had dessert.  Don't judge me.  :)  And I'm so glad I did!  It was the most amazing brownie I've ever had.  Holy yum!  Our server's name was Joy, too, which I thought auspicious.  

Title-less Tuesday

It's hard to change.  Sometimes, it's easier to stay in our ruts, rather than brave the enticing, but unknown path.  At least the life we currently have is familiar.  We know it's survivable.  

The well-worn ruts in my brain direct my thoughts like powerful magnets calling to metal filings.  Depression and anxiety relentlessly pull at me to shore up the "Woe Is Me" and "I Am Awful" roads and the "Life Is Too Hard and Almost Always Miserable" highway.  

And often, when I feel like that, I want treats.  I want the thinking to just stop.  I want to bury my face in a pint of ice cream while zoning out in front of the TV.  Oh, and I want chocolate.  And cookies.  And big, gooey slices of cake with a thick layer of frosting on top.  Nothing else seems as exciting.  It's hard to find other sources of joy when I feel like that.  And really, that isn't joy.  It's escaping, but not in a way that nourishes me, in any sense of the word.  

But I don't want to use food to numb myself.  Eating treats should be an occasional, pleasurable experience in which I am fully present.  One that involves me really tasting each bite and enjoying all the wonderful flavors it contains.  A time where I allow myself to have what I have.  Which is what I'm trying to do with the rest of my life, too.  To feel all the gratitude and pleasure I can, despite the ever-dampening effect of anxiety and depression.  So, the search continues...

I love listening to Tyler play with our girls.  They adore his funny voices and silly stories.  I do too.  He makes all of us laugh and that lightens my load.  Case in point: he named our Little People pilgrim man, Buford T. Buttlips.  Good 'ol Buford has gone on many a wild and hilarious adventure.

Tess was obviously delighted.  :)

And then was alarmed when Buford fell off his horse.  Naturally, she turns to me to remedy horse-related mishaps.  

I told myself to stop and look at the moon last night.  It was so gorgeous!  

Sun + fresh air + happy babies = a happier mama and happier babies!

 Run, Maddie, run!  :)

Joy = slave labor!  :)  I feel happiness when I see proof that my children are turning into capable people.  

Being accepted and loved by my girlies makes everything better.  

Sunny selfies with crooked glasses.  :)