2011 To-Do List

Ever since 2005, I've been writing "to-do" lists for the coming year. The tradition started with my friend Brianne, as we sat on her porch swing one warm day toward the end of the year. These aren't resolutions, but I suppose they have the look of them. The difference is I don't have to tackle them all at once. I'd just like to work on checking them off.

So without further ado, my 2011 list:

1. Get a passport. My friend Nancy says that you're much more apt to plan a trip overseas if you already have the passport.

2. Go somewhere warm on vacation (a cruise, Hawaii, anywhere I can guarantee snow won't follow me).

3. Run a half marathon. It seems silly to put this on my to-do list, because it used to be assumed I'd do one or two a year. But I haven't done one in nearly two years. I have my sights on two this year, but I'll be happy if I can do one of them.

4. Save at least $1,000 in my longterm savings account. This used to be easy to do, but ever since I moved into a higher-rent place, I've found it more difficult. It's still very much doable, though. I just need to be conscientious.

5. Do a new race in a new state. Doesn't matter the distance.

6. Make some progress on my family history (tangible to-do: e-mail relatives a question a month).

7. Go to the gym/run/workout more days in 2011 than in 2010. Below is a breakdown:

In 2010
January: 12 days
February: 10 days
March: 12 days
April: 14 days
May: 6 days
June: 13 days
July: 15 days
August: 11 days
September: 12 days
October: 11 days
November: 7 days
December: 2 days

(P.S. Isn't it funny that the month I worked out the most last year was the month it was 90-105 degrees every day?)

8. Drumroll please....
Lose weight. Gosh, I don't know the goal. Last year my goal was to get back down to 167. I got to 197 and then zoomed back up to the unthinkable. Maybe I should break the goals down.

By May 1: Get below 200.
By Sept. 1: Get to 175.
By Dec. 31: Get to 167.

Writing it down, it's totally doable. I know it is. They are realistic goals. But I know it's just not as easy as it looks from the comfort of Dec. 31, 2010.

P.S. I know, dear friends, you've seen some of these goals from me so many times before. I often wonder why anyone reads this blog anymore, as I feel like a broken record nearly every day. But, well, I'm still alive and as long as I am, I will keep trying to be a better person.

P.P.S. You'll notice the marathon goal is not a part of this list. I'm being realistic. That goal isn't going anywhere, but to think it's doable in 2011 would be setting myself up for failure. And I'd like to keep that word at a minimum this year.

Taking stock

There are so many negative things I could dwell on today. How I fell back into old, horrible eating habits these past two months. How I managed to run less this December than last December, when I only logged four days. How I've gained back all the weight I lost at the beginning of the semester, and then some.

But despite stepping on the scale this morning and seeing a number that struck fear in every part of my body (and for the first time in years, I just can't reveal it, I'm so ashamed), I feel OK. I feel at peace.

Want to know why?

It's been a heck of a few months. I worked at the newspaper. I taught class twice a week and graded papers/planned lessons every day. And over the course of three months, I had three books from Random House to proofread - which means I was pretty much working three jobs the whole time.

And for the first time, I felt like I did a really good job at all three. I was complimented on my designs by people I respect in the design/newspaper world. I was given the Accuracy Award. I never took a sick day. I received incredible comments on my student evaluations. I caught some great errors in the books. I'm proud of myself for the work I did.

Sure, I could have still accomplished all of the above and not gained weight. With the exception of not having time to exercise, the busy schedule didn't cause this weight gain. The busy schedule didn't make me eat pie. I did that to myself. I take full responsibility.

So many times this semester I asked myself, "What have I done?" The shame I feel is consuming. But. All I can do is keep trying. All I can do is renew my effort. All I can do is hope that I can stop this cycle of yo-yo dieting, reclaim my life and finally set out to accomplish those running goals I covet.

All I can do is hope that 2011 is the year I make it happen.

Some inspiration

My friend Laura passed along these inspiring columns about an overweight runner's marathon success, and so I want to pass them along to you. The author writes beautifully about her struggles and successes.

http://cityroom.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/11/06/sweat-already-a-winner/#comments

http://cityroom.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/11/08/she-got-her-gold-more-important-she-earned-her-gold/

Self-reflecting

I sat down in the sand, looking out at the very blue ocean. The sun reflected on the water, making it look like glass. All around me, families laughed and couples took photos and friends chatted. A little girl did a walking handstand toward the water, her parents warning her of the incoming tide and laughing when the water crept up to her hands.

And there I sat. I had just finished the Wicked 10K at the Oceanfront. And I was feeling very much alone, the thoughts in my head telling me I had - once again - failed seeming louder than ever.

It was a day that started hours earlier when I sat up not knowing where I was or why my alarm clock was going off in the middle of the night. I had only been asleep for four hours having worked late the night before. But I got up, dressed in my costume (a blind referee), grimaced as I looked at my fat self in the mirror (the costume was way too tight) and took off for the Beach.

I felt very self-conscious in my costume, hating how I looked. It's weird to feel like the freak when you're surrounded by people dressed as horses, cartoon characters, sumo wrestlers. But I did.

I spent the next hour searching for my friends who also were running the race, but I never found them. I had to have a stranger take my photo so I could document how I looked. I immediately regretted that.

I was pleased when I started running that I could actually run. I had spent the previous two weeks worrying about my sore knee and shin. I had tested the waters when I went hiking in the mountains the week before and was so pleased when I was able to climb up steep hills and not feel pain (though going down the hills was another story). But who knew how I would feel until I actually started racing.

I ran the first mile fine, but during Mile 2 or 3 my legs cramped up. It didn't help that we had entered a stretch of the Boardwalk and I was running on concrete, a big no-no for big girls like myself. So I had to walk. And watch as a Hippie, a Fred Flintstone and, yes, even a Snail passed me by.

Around Mile 4, I found my second wind and took off running faster. I felt great. Even the last mile - another stretch of Boardwalk concrete - wasn't awful.

But my time was.

I finished in 1:23:30, pretty much my worst 10K ever.

Months before, when I had decided I was not going to train for the Marine Corps Marathon, I had made my new goal to PR in the Wicked. Instead, here I was, failing again.

Now, after searching the beach for my friends and coming up empty, I plopped down on the sand and looked out at the ocean. I thought about the past week and how my life was so different from what it was a year ago, two years ago, five years ago. I felt lonelier than ever. Fatter than ever. My boyfriend and I had broken up after almost four years together. My birthday the day before consisted of paying bills, cleaning and going to work. The only birthday cake I had was via the piece I bought myself at the grocery store; the biggest excitement of the day was trying to figure out who the "Aunt" was who didn't receive the birthday cake that had now been cut up and priced as individual pieces. My slice said "Happy."

The tide was coming in, the water creeping up closer to my seat on the sand. I watched as it washed away footprints and the girl's handprints from her walking handstand. As each mark in the sand was erased, I tried to do the same to the negativity in my head.

And I realized how silly it was for me to sit there complaining about a life that was pretty blessed. I was able to run without pain. I had a job that allowed me to pay the bills. I had the money to buy that slice of cake. And I was sitting at the ocean on a perfect autumn day.

I got up and headed for my car.

"Diana!" Brian exclaimed as we walked past each other. "Colleen and John and Laura are over here."

I had finally found my friends.

A little break

Well I made it to Saturday, eating my 1,200 calories all week and ready to not worry so much (but also not go crazy). I haven't lost any more weight, and I blame my leg. My knee still hurts and I'm beginning to worry that it's something more serious. When I get back on Tuesday, I'll reassess my situation, but I'm guessing it will involve 1) a physical therapy appointment and 2) joining the YMCA so I can swim. I've got to get some cardio exercise.

I hope and pray I'll be OK hiking this weekend. I've been so looking forward to this mountain trip and I want to enjoy this beautiful weather. Here's hoping....

On a positive note, my black jeans seem to fit just fine so I have two pair I can wear this weekend.

Pre-vacation weight: 208.

I'll report back on Wednesday....

So hungry

So, yeah, I really hurt my leg/knee/shin/ankle this week/weekend. Either I hurt it running after falling on it or I hurt it running on concrete in the race or I hurt it running 7.25 miles on Monday even though it was already hurting.

Now it's busted.

I've iced and elevated and rested and am now using a knee brace for just day-to-day use. But I am so antsy. I want to run. But I know it's not good. Unfortunately, I quit my gym recently b/c it stopped offering classes, so I don't even have other options.

Which means restricting my calories even more. Which means I AM HUNGRY.

Here's how serious I am about trying to be good before my mini vacation coming up this weekend: A friend gave me a nice hearty tub of her homemade macaroni and cheese. I loooove mac and cheese. And it's full of cheese. Last night, I had about an eighth of a cup of it (leaving like 3 more cups in the tub). It was heavenly. But I'm afraid of it. So I'm trying to just have a tiny bit every day.

The scale went back up on Sunday/Monday after a bit of indulgence last weekend, so I'm trying desperately to get it back down. While this weekend will include some hiking (Lord willing and the knee doesn't break), I'm sure it also will include non-diet foods. I must be careful.

I hope and pray I can run in the 10K next weekend. Yes, this is the 10K I hoped to PR in. Now my goal is to simply run it. How my standards have changed...

Official time

Between the afternoon weigh-in that showed results and the Komen 5K official race times I just found, I think God was really, really, really trying to put a smile on my face yesterday.

No, I didn't do much better in the Komen all of a sudden. My official time was 37:08. But that put my average mile at 11:59. God wanted me to see that "11" and feel better. And oddly enough, it kinda does make me feel better!

P.S. I just logged the race into my running calendar and, surprise: It actually WAS my best time this year. Turns out that 0.1 of the 3.1-mile race threw me off a little. My previous best time (of the year) was a 12:11-minute-mile. I'll be!

Feeling better after a nap

Oh, today.

I weighed myself and was up 0.2 pound. I ran in the Komen race and finished much later than I'd hoped and expected. I was as blue as a girl can be on a beautiful October morning.

As I laid down for a nap after the race, my left leg began to hurt terribly. But I was too tired to get up and get the ice pack. So I just slept.

One hour later, I got up for work. Leg still hurt. But my mood was a little better.

I decided to step on the scale again, thinking, "Yeah I know I just ran and ate a banana and drank a lot of water but it's later in the day and maybe the early, early weigh-in was off because I had really just gone to bed hours earlier."

Turned out, maybe that thinking had some truth to it. I was down 1.6 pounds from last week's weigh-in.

So, despite the very sore leg, I was a bit happier.

Now, back to the race. I decided to give my Garmin to a friend who has been training super hard and wanted to PR today. I knew she could really use it and I thought it could be cool to try running without a watch.

I ran and ran, keeping what I thought was a great pace. And I never stopped. Not for water, not to walk, not for a second. And that was my big goal. There were moments near the end when I wanted to stop for "just a bit." But I kept at it. I felt good. Felt strong. Was wondering if, maybe, I was running in record time.

Then I saw it.

The damn clock.

37 minutes it read.

Seriously?

I crossed shortly after, somewhere around 37:30 or so, maybe later. I was really, really bummed.

But I had no watch and I accomplished the one goal I could set: running the whole thing. And I was happy to not be hurting during the race.

Now, though, I sit here at work with an ice pack on my leg. There's pain, bad pain, limping pain. All I can do is ice and rest and hope and pray.

(P.S. My friend did AWESOME. And my Garmin is so confused, as it's not accustomed to a 10-minute-mile pace. Maybe one day it will get there again, on my own wrist.)

We shall see

It's been a different week for me. A week devoid of much exercise - but for a reason.

On Tuesday while cleaning, I slipped and fell in my apartment. Fell on my left knee, skinning it pretty bad but also leaving it really sore. On Wednesday and Thursday walking home from work has also brought on some shin pain, mostly, I think, because I've been walking faster (one does that on a dark night at 12:30 a.m.) in not the best shoes.

I've got a 5K tomorrow - one I've been looking forward to for months. I really want to do well, and I've been afraid if I pushed myself this week I'd just injure myself more. So I've rested and iced and massaged. I hope and pray tomorrow's race will be a successful one. But I also really hope and pray it won't be a painful one.

So I've had to limit my calories extra this week without the exercise factored in. I've kept myself to 1200 calories a day all week. Last night I got pretty hungry, but I still survived.

I had a moment of satisfaction yesterday when I dressed for class, wearing a pair of pants I bought at the beginning of the semester. They were starting to feel a little looser, so that was nice. And I did wear a pair of jeans this week, though I may have pushed it too much. They were kinda tight.

The next three weekends hold many food temptations - some of which I already plan on indulging in. So I plan to weigh in on Saturdays for at least the next three weeks. Based on today's scale reading, I don't expect to see much difference from last week, but even if it's 0.2 I'll be happy(ish). I'm looking forward to upping the exercise next week (if the legs are OK, Lord help me), which hopefully will help.

I realize I'm entering the months that have always been hardest for me. Stress and holidays and indulgences. I'm just trying really hard to inch downward on the scale instead of zooming upward.

I like what she says

I just ran across this story and wanted to share it with you.

This woman understands what it takes to lose weight. I love her thinking, how she refuses to let the scale get to her and how she changes things up every now and then.

Great advice.

I woke up very depressed, as I have for the past few days. I don't know what's wrong with me. Very tired all the time, not motivated to go running. Yesterday, I decided to postpone my long run until today. Today, I am struggling to get out there. I'll go - it's my only "to-do" for the entire day - but I wish I was more pumped about it.

As for the weekly weigh-in yesterday, I was at 209.4. So I lost 0.4 from last week. I didn't hit my goal, but at least it went down. I learned my lesson, too. Inhaling a bunch of bread and cheese isn't going to get you closer to your goals.

Not that the lesson was enough to stop me yesterday. I ate too many Weight Watchers ice cream snacks. And I ate a bunch of pretzel rods with peanut butter. I was bummed. And really for no reason. I was able to enjoy the sunshine yesterday and had a girls'-afternoon-out with a good friend. But I felt heavy hearted last night. I just couldn't see beyond the jar of peanut butter.

Today is a new day, with new possibilities. As soon as I can get myself moving, I'll go out to First Landing on this gorgeous day. I'll run. My goal is between 10 and 11 miles, but if I do 7 that's cool, too. (I've decided I will not be doing the half marathon in November but I will do a 10-miler in December.) Then I hope to head to the beach and just sit there and enjoy the day. I must say I am glad the warmer temperatures are back. They make for slower running, but feeling the sun on my shoulders always makes me feel better.

Woe is me

It's so frustrating, I tell you, to work so hard and see no change. All week, after Monday, I ate under 1,300 calories a day and ran hard and even worked out a fourth day. And I still weigh more than I did last Sunday.

All because of bread and cheese?

I'm frustrated, too, because the weather is getting cooler and I want to bring out the jeans. I own a bunch of jeans of various sizes. None really fit me. Some will zip but I look like a fool in them, as they're super tight.

I also have some occasions coming up where I'll be eating out, and it stresses me to think of putting on more weight. I so wanted to tackle these 20 pounds during the fall semester. And I do admit, I feel better knowing that I haven't succumbed to daily stress eating and run-avoidance. I'm still working really hard. And I know it will take time to see change and if I stop now, I'll never see that change. I just can't help but worry.

I hope I can plug along. I'm starting to see changes in my running and that is a good thing. Gotta think about that.

A hurtin'

I can't believe it's almost Friday and I haven't written since Monday. It's been a very busy week with class and running and work. I had intended to write during my class's midterm exam today, but the computer wasn't working.

So here I am, trying to stay awake and finding that typing is helping. (Forgive me, though, for the poor writing; I'll be lucky if I can spell correctly tonight.)

I'll begin with Monday, because it was the source of my big frustration of the week. Remember how I didn't eat outside the diet box on Sunday? Well, I did on Monday. I ate baked tortilla chips and salsa and a bunch of cheese and bread. That's about all I ate, but I ate a lot of it.

I purposely didn't weigh myself Tuesday.

But I did on Wednesday.

Up three pounds.

Really? Really?

So I was bummed I did such a stupid thing. I know I didn't eat 9,000 calories worth of chips and cheese. But my body apparently just sucks up carbs and won't let go.

I ran on Tuesday before class and felt really good, really fast, only to find out my time was about two minutes worse than last week's 3-miler. Bummed again.

On Wednesday at work, a co-worker brought me an iced coffee as a thank-you gift. I don't usually drink coffee. But it was yummy, only 80 calories, and I was tired. So I drank it all.

Needless to say, last night, as I tried to sleep, I was WIDE AWAKE. I could not sleep for hours. When my alarm went off at 7, I hit snooze a bunch and was about to cancel my before-class run and sleep instead. But I feared oversleeping and missing the midterm. So I got up. And I ran.

The first mile was slower, again, than I thought I felt. But I must've been angry at that, because the second mile was the fastest I've run in a year. Then the third was pretty good, and my overall time showed a huge improvement. It was the best pace and the best three-miler since Oct. 17, 2009. I was very, very happy.

Of course now at work, I'm a hurtin'. I knew after my run that I needed to stretch extra and ice just in case. Whenever I run faster, I end up injuring myself. So I stretched and stretched and iced before and after class.

I'm not in pain, thankfully. But I am hurtin'. It's the good kind -- the muscle soreness that lets you know you worked extra hard.

Feels good.

Funny Aside Part II

It's 7 a.m. Monday and I'm REALLY hungry.

Yeah, stupid move on Sunday. Now I have no extra calories to eat today!

Funny aside

I did not eat the brownie.

I did eat 1,300 calories.

I burned 1,200 calories running.

MyFitnessPal.com says that if I every day was like today, I could lose nearly 20 pounds in 5 weeks. Ha! Ha! (Yeah, I'm not running 10 miles every day.)

Proud

Last night at work, I had an incredible craving for tacos and chips and salsa. On my walk home, I passed restaurant after restaurant, wishing I could just go in and eat my cravings. Instead of caving, I told myself this: Just get through tonight. Tomorrow after your long run, you can have your tacos and chips and salsa.

My weigh-in was in the morning, too, and I didn't want to blow it. After the weigh-in, well, that would be OK. I have decided Sundays would be my days to eat outside the diet box.

Weigh-in was good. I met my 2-pound goal and actually got 0.2 below, officially bringing me back below 210. Seeing 209 made me feel good. Funny, huh?

I spent most of the morning procrastinating, not wanting to go outside for my run. It had been raining all morning, steady.

My calf is still super tight (so bad I limped after getting out of bed) so I took my friend's advice and massaged away. I massaged for so long (the knots would not go away) that my hands hurt.

Then I went running.

While stretching, with the rain pouring down and the wind blowing, I almost turned around and went home. But I kept going. Half a mile in, already soaked to the bone, I almost turned around and went home. But I kept going. I was pretty certain I was going to cut the scheduled mileage (10) down to maybe 6 or 7. But, well, I got to 10. It took me 2:26 hours. I was beyond soaked and cold. But I was pretty proud of myself.

By the time I got home and showered I decided I wasn't really in the mood for tacos and chips and salsa.

There's a chance I'll have that brownie that's in my freezer tonight, but only if I need to meet my minimum calorie goal. See, that's one problem with procrastinating with the long run. I waited so long, by the time I got home and showered it was 3 p.m. and I had only consumed 200 calories. No wonder I was so tired.

Believe me, I know that wasn't smart.

But I'm proud I was able to get past the craving and proud I didn't let the rain stop me from completing my 10-miler.

(P.S. One reason I was out there in the rain: You're never guaranteed a clear, sunny day for your race. My old coach used to say you want to train in all kinds of weather because THAT kind of weather could be the backdrop of your next race. And believe me, I've had many races in downpours.)

Getting there

I woke up feeling pretty blue, with a lot of stuff on my mind that made my life seem out of control and weighing me down.

But I had a date with a friend for a 9:30 a.m. run, and it turned out to be just what I needed.

My right calf has been super, super tight since yesterday. Like so tight it hurts when I stand up. I decided to spend a lot of time stretching, and then we walked the first 1.4 miles together to loosen up. Still, when I set out to run, it was still tight. So I took it slow.

The calf is still tight and I hope I didn't do any damage to my legs today but the run turned out to be great. I definitely improved my time. Of course, the weather was delightful and I'm sure that helped a lot.

I love seeing progress.

The scale is still showing little progress and I know I'm just driving myself crazy by stepping on the darn thing every day. I just keep waiting for that day when it drops. Keep hoping it's today. It's never today.

I've been doing great with the eating, though right now in my apartment, I have two things that could set me up for a downfall. One: A co-worker gave me this huge box of M&Ms as a thank-you gift. The good thing is it's so pretty (there are 12 different colors of M&Ms in little boxes) that I'd hate to eat it and ruin the effect. Hopefully that will keep me out of the box. Then today, a friend gave me two homemade brownies. I have wrapped them up and put them in the back of the freezer where I will hopefully forget about them (ha!).

I was happy to run today because I have this "thing" about running on the first day of the month. Whenever I do, the month ends up being a good one for running. It's all mental. But I hope this means October will be as successful as September was.

Here's to a good month!

Sue-shi

I may need to stop eating sushi. I love sushi. And it's good for you. But I never know how to calculate the calories, as much as I try, and so I'm either overestimating or underestimating and either way the scale isn't happy today.

I ate two trays of Harris Teeter sushi yesterday: one tray had four tiny pieces each of shrimp, tuna, salmon and eel sushi. One tray had six of the larger sushi: two salmon, two shrimp and two tuna. Plus six small pieces of tuna and avocado. (Man, when I see it in print like that, maybe it was way too much sushi.) It was my main meal for the day. And I estimated it at a little less than 700 calories. But maybe I was way off.

I didn't eat much else during the day: oatmeal and a banana for breakfast; a lean cuisine fish dish for dinner.

Anyway, the scale is up today.

Oh, and I ran in the morning, a good run in the rain where I went 2.25 miles straight and then ran/walked the last mile.

So perhaps it's too much sushi. But buying the one tray never seems to fill me up.

Sigh. I guess that's why I'm fat.

In a funk

I'm not sure exactly what my problem is, but I'm blaming it on the rain (which I usually love) and being in an apartment full of mice (and the strangest bug I've ever seen with like 20 long legs and a funky body). I can only guess the annoying work done on my roof has brought these creatures to me. I'm hoping my landlord replies to my e-mail soon - he's out of town - and can find out how they're all getting into my home. I'm braver than I thought I would be, but now it's just annoying.

Anyway, I've just been in a funk the past two days. I've slept a lot, which can be good, but I still haven't been able to come up with a good way to present tomorrow's class lesson. Inspiration better come to me fast.

I was successful on Sunday morning, weighing in exactly where I wanted to be. But then I snacked way, way too much during the day. I didn't eat bad things, but I ate too many of the good things I had (almonds, Kashi trail mix cookies, Weight Watchers snacks). Stopped counting calories, which is no good.

Today, I kind of went the opposite direction. I've finished the day only eating 928 calories. But there was just nothing I wanted and I was feeling so blue about Sunday's excess. Believe me, I know eating under 1,200 calories is very bad for you. But I really have no desire to go eat 300 calories right now, at 10 p.m., just to meet that minimum.

I hope getting back into the swing of my run/class/work tomorrow will get me back on track.

I'm looking forward to tomorrow's run, even though I'm sure it will be a rainy mess outside (and depending on how this lesson plan goes, I may only get a few hours' sleep). But it was so great seeing progress at Saturday's race. I looked back on my previous times and my three-miler time Saturday was the best since April. Granted, my mile splits got worse after three miles, but I am still very pleased. I can't wait for the next race.

Here's to trying, trying, trying....

Good day

Today's race was pretty good; it was hard for me (for some reason, each mile felt like three) but it wasn't my worst 8K ever, which pleased me. And my time for the first three miles was the best I've had for quite awhile. So maybe I'm making progress.

It was quite warm today and a little humid but a glorious day overall.

It was depressing getting ready for the race, though. Everything I put on to wear looked horrid and I knew any race pictures taken would be awful. But getting out there was more important. My hope is that I can just keep pushing, keep trying and that maybe the next race pics won't be as bad.

Tomorrow marks two weeks of sticking to my diet. I had a goal to lose two pounds this week but I don't think that will be the case. Not for lack of trying. But for some reason, when I run longer and drink lots and lots of water/Gatorade, the water just stays. Feels like that's happening again today. I keep telling myself not to worry about what the scale says tomorrow. I hope that the memories of the race and the hope for more good races to come will keep me on track.

This is where it gets hard

Ever since Sunday, the scale has been stuck, and this is where it gets hard. I eat right and get out there for runs (today's was great, with my lowest 3-mile time this month) but then I see no progress on the scale. Yes, I've only gone about a week and a half being on the ball, so it's ridiculous that I already expect to see results. But tell my brain that.

I am so silly.

Anyway, the good news is that I feel good and I haven't kicked the scale once. I'm trying to be patient this time around and realize that the alternative - the slow creep upward on the scale - is not a desirable option. It scares me because I know how easy it is to enter a new 10-pound category. I've got to nip this before it gets out of control.

My first goal is to get back to the last weigh-in amount I listed on MyFitnessPal.com. 210. I'm now at 214. The next goal will be that hard push to get under 200. From there, I'll reassess. Funny how my first two goals are to get back to where I was in APRIL. But such is the life of a yo-yo dieter who can't seem to get her act together.

I'm trying and that's all I can do right now.

I have a race on Saturday I'm excited about (8K) and hope I'll see some progress. But I know I need to be realistic on what "progress" means for me at this stage.

Musings

So it's the beginning of the Fall TV season, which is always fun. But I'm already bummed.

I had read some good things about "Mike and Molly," about how the show is simply a romance that just happens to have two overweight people in the relationship. That it wasn't going to be a show that focused on their weight.

WRONG.

It's a cheap, disgusting sitcom that makes fun of fat people with every page of dialogue. I mean, it was so awful. If you substituted the fat jokes for jokes against a race or religion or gender, this country would be up in arms. It was just further proof that people think there's nothing wrong with joking about a person's weight. It was really sad to watch.

Needless to say, I won't be watching it again.

I've preset my VCR (yes, I still have one of those) for The Biggest Loser tonight, but I'm really unsure if I want to watch it. It got me really mad last spring, and I swore I wouldn't watch it again. But I haven't made a firm decision yet.

In other news, I've been doing rather well in the eating and exercise departments, despite my crazy-busy schedule. This morning/last night I was feeling blue because I wasn't sure what to do about my class and I was fretting over their poor performance on a test. I was depressed and really didn't want to go to class. Then something very odd happened that turned my attitude around.

I caught a mouse.

Yeah, so that mouse who appeared back in June or July never showed his little face again and I put away the traps. Then at 5 a.m. Monday, I was doing some work in the living room, and the little bugger appeared again. I was freaked, but he did look very small and quickly went back into the utility closet. So I put the traps back out. And this morning, there he was in one of them. They're humane traps (I got them at PETA), but I still felt awful seeing the little guy trying to free himself from the plastic box. So I took him outside, down the block, to a nice grassy place and opened the trap to let him out. He just sat there, not wanting to leave, but finally he scrambled into the bushes.

I felt good after that. I know I should be freaked out, but he was sweet and I hope he's enjoying the outdoors now.

Looking forward to enjoying the outdoors myself tomorrow for a little run. Maybe I'll see him out there.

Up and running

I'm already late for work and it's only 10:40 a.m. (I got home at 1:30 a.m. from work). But I did get in a decent run and feel pretty good about that. I ran for two miles straight and then just walked the whole last mile. I'm a wee bit worried about my calf, which is tender. I figured my goal today was to see if I could run more than 1.75 miles straight and after I achieved that, I wasn't going to push myself only to hurt myself.

As you can see, I still have a long way to go in this quest to up my speed. I don't want to say it's doubtful I won't achieve my PR goal at the October race, but, yeah, it's doubtful. But I'm not worried. I just want to do well and train well and not hurt myself in the meantime.

OK, better get going...

Whew, a breather!

So I made it through the two weeks alive and actually feeling good. I finished the proofreading job, taught and prepared my classes without feeling like a fool, ran twice this week (one eight-miler, one three-miler) and three times last week (one seven-miler and two three-milers), worked at the paper AND, at least this week, have been eating healthfully.

I'm glad for a little breather. Unfortunately, I won't be able to sleep in like I had hoped tomorrow because I have an early shift. I hope, hope, hope I will have the energy to run beforehand. Today's wasn't as good as last week's and I want another shot!

I was worried about eating poorly at lunch today because I went out to eat at a new place, but I ended up having the most delicious salad. All it had in it were mixed greens, grapes, pears, gorgonzola cheese and a very, very light vinaigrette. I felt good for ordering it AND full, despite having little protein.

OK, well, it's back to work. Just wanted to let you know I'm still hanging in there!

2 out of 3 ain't bad

Didn't run yesterday but did manage to get out there this morning, where I did 3 miles total, with 1.75 straight. Did it in a minute less than Tuesday's run and three and a half minutes less than last Thursday's. Of course it was cooler today. But I was very happy. I was even able to sprint in the end and also earlier when I thought I was about to get run over.

I keep thinking how much easier it would be if I weighed less. Gosh, why is it so hard? Why can't I get my act together?

Two-week blitz

This week and next week are going to be a bit hectic for me, as I take on a third job. I won't play martyr - I have been wanting proofreading work all summer - but it will indeed be a juggle trying to teach/plan for class, proofread a book, work at the paper and get some running in. I've mapped out these two weeks down to the hour. Let's hope I can keep myself running into next week. It will be quite a success if I do (and not use the time to catch up on sleep).

I had two really good runs recently: On Sunday, I am thrilled to say, I was able to do seven miles. It was slow, alas, but I did it and I actually felt great. I'm guessing the cooler weather helped.

This morning, despite having a horrible night of sleep, I did a three-miler and it was the quickest I've done since the July races. Still slow. But progress is being made.

I still haven't made a firm decision on the half marathon in November; I want to do it, but I don't want to do it unless I'm prepared. I may wait until mid-October to decide.

Forgive me if I don't write much these two weeks. I'll try my darndest, but I don't see much downtime in the future.

Whew

I survived the hurricane newsroom pizza extravaganza, but I admit the only reason was because I was so stressed I couldn't get up from my chair.

It also helped that I brought a Lean Cuisine pizza, which satisfied my pizza craving.

I also successfully avoided cupcakes tonight.

Oh hurricane snacks, you tempt me so!

This week sure has been exhausting. I have a busy, busy to-do list for the weekend, but I still hope to get some running in. I was bummed that I didn't run this morning, but the Tuesday and Wednesday outings were really nice. I'd try tomorrow but I have to be at work in 11.5 hours and I'd really like much of that to take place in my bed.

Off to that bed I speak fondly of....

I'm still holding on

Don't have time to write but wanted to let you know I'm still hanging in there, though I didn't run today because I'm wiped out.

Hurricane a-coming, classwork up the wazoo. So tired. Will try very, very hard to resist any storm treats at work tonight.

Back again shortly.

Old habits die hard

I got up early this morning to go running before my class. It was a decent trot: I was able to run the first mile straight, which means, thankfully, I haven't completely lost my ability.

Class was OK. If I had to judge the day based on my performance, I'd say it was bad. I don't remember being so ... stuck last year. There were moments during class when I lost my train of thought. I'd like to blame it on the Sudafed/my cold, but I think I'm on the mend.

The students, however, seem really cool. I was impressed with the group and am looking forward to getting to know them.

What's weird is how I felt in the building today. I felt like I did last year, and my habits last year were really, really bad. After class, I wanted to go to Taco Bell or McDonald's or Walgreens and get something bad to eat. The feeling was overwhelming. I had to remind myself that I don't want to be like that this year. I want to be healthier and use the exercise to relieve stress, not the food.

I was able to catch a small nap after class and before work. And at work, I was able to resist some "goodbye cake." I'll take that small achievement.

My first big temptation this week apparently will be Earl. The hurricane is looking more likely to hit, and after work tonight, a few of us are going shopping to stock up. To me, hurricanes are a grand excuse to snack. I must be diligent.

Looking forward to tomorrow's run. Let's hope I feel the same in the morning!

Hello again

Once again, I'm so sorry I've been MIA. There's no one reason, but for the past week I've been sick and haven't done much of anything besides work.

Tomorrow is the big day. Back to school. I'm determined - determined - to do the opposite of last year. Last year, I gained twenty pounds during the semester. This year, I hope to lose twenty pounds. Because, oh-my-goodness, if I gain 20 pounds on top of the weight I'm at now, that will be the end of me.

It's going to be hard. Teaching is stressful. But if I want to continue doing this, I need to find a way to make it work.

I have prepped for the week by making a big stir-fry, pancake mix and pumpkin muffins.

And my goal for tomorrow is to run three miles.

I'm super nervous about tomorrow. I hope I start feeling better, because this cold just makes everything so much harder. At the moment, my head doesn't ache as bad as it has been, so I'm hoping that's a good sign.

I'll report back tomorrow. Promise.

Day 9

Today, I took my boxing class, which I'm starting to enjoy even more these days. Of course, just when I start to enjoy it, it will come to an end. Once teaching starts up Aug. 30, I won't be able to take boxing anymore. The only boxing classes are 12-1 p.m. Tuesday/Thursday. My ODU class is 11-12:15 Tuesday/Thursday. Across town. Sucks.

I hope the gym brings back the morning boxing class in the fall, but it's not looking good for me. I hope I can find the motivation to box on my own. (But I know me too well...)

I also ran a little after the class. My foot is starting to feel a little better, to the point where I haven't iced in a few days b/c I haven't felt anything (and therefore forget to ice). I think boxing helps b/c it warms me up before I go running.

Didn't eat perfect today, again, but I'm OK with that. I'll have my meal-out tomorrow (steak, lobster mac-and-cheese, etc.) and possibly pizza on Saturday. My goal is to enjoy those meals and lay low the rest of the day. Make the meals worth it.

Sorry this post is stilted. I'm not feeling the writing vibe right now but I wanted to make sure I updated Day 9. (Though, is it really Day 9 when I haven 't been perfect on my diet?)

Day 8

Well, I was pretty bummed - again - today when I woke up and the scale was up - again. I worked out so hard yesterday.

So, I overate a bit today. Nothing awful, but I wasn't perfect. I did resist ordering Chinese food and instead ate a Lean Cuisine meal. Still, the extra snacks don't bode well for the scale.

I guess I was just frustrated. Feeling lonely. Unsure of things. I hope I can do better tomorrow.

I did get a lot of work done for my class. I've practically crossed all the "work" items off my list. But, unfortunately, as I complete all this work, I realize it's going to take a lot more time than I expected. It's all coming back to me: the stress of teaching.

I'm such a broken record....

Day 7

This morning, I woke up in a pretty bad mood. Not sure why exactly (beyond the fact that I can't seem to sleep through the night), but I was feeling blue. Then I stepped on the scale, which showed weight gain, and I was like, "Really?" I was so good yesterday and resisted so much.

I ate breakfast on the couch, feeling sorry for myself and considering skipping all workouts. That "why bother?" mentality was doing its damage. But right before noon, I got myself to the gym. I did an hour of boxing, followed by 30 minutes with the trainer doing speed work on a treadmill. I figured, since I'm not spending hotel/car/airplane money on this vacation, I could give up $40 for a good workout. (When I was speeding on the treadmill, thinking I couldn't last much longer, I kept picturing the $40 off in the distance...) I think I did pretty good, though he didn't push me too much.

(FOOT UPDATE: The same. Hurts sometimes, as does the shin, which is kinda tender to the touch, but it hasn't hurt while I'm working out. I keep icing. I may take tomorrow off.)

I'm glad I went to the gym. It definitely helped my mood.

But then.

I had checked another thing off my list yesterday when I finally got photos developed that have been sitting on my camera since April. Today, I looked at them. I looked so bad. I LOOK so bad. It was pretty depressing.

And I got an unexpected, and large, bill in the mail, making me wonder if I can afford anything else this week, including my restaurant outing on Friday.

Today just wasn't my day. But there's always tomorrow.

Day 6

A very nice day. I went to see the double feature, both "The Kids are All Right" and "Cyrus," and both were excellent. I resisted such things as popcorn and the homemade baclava the Naro sells. Instead, in between flicks, I went across the street and got some low-fat frozen yogurt. For dinner, I got take-out of my favorite salad: a spinach and grilled chicken and apple dish.

I had to estimate the salad, but it looks like I only went about 100 calories over my 1,200 allotment. I'm pleased with that. There were many temptations I resisted today.

I checked off TWO "for fun" items and one "for health" item today, so it looks like tomorrow I will have no "fun" but double "work." But that's OK. It will be nice to stay at home tomorrow, with the exception of a trip to the gym, where I hope to attempt speed work on the treadmill again.

I'm very happy to see I've almost made it one week. I know it sounds like it's no big deal, but for me, it's huge. Building up momentum is one of the hardest things; I look forward to sailing on it one of these days!

Day 5

Imagine, if you will, plodding through 7 miles on a warm day, then finding a little extra energy to walk across the street and visit the ocean. You stick your feet/legs in the water, and the waves and sand massage your sore muscles. You're hot and oh-so-tired. You head back to your car, only to hear a little jingly music from off in the distance.

An ice cream truck.

You smile to yourself, thinking of those childhood days when you and your sister scrounged up coins from the sofa whenever you heard that familiar song. You continue walking.

Then, the ice cream truck pulls onto the side street where you're walking. It pulls RIGHT UP TO YOU. The ice cream man smiles. You see the delicious, cold options displayed on the side of his truck.

You shake your head "no."

The ice cream man drives off.

Now that, my friend, is resisting temptation!

It was a nice day. A nice start to my stay-cation.

From my Choose Your Own Stay-cation chart:

FOR MY HEALTH: A good walk/run (my foot is kinda hanging in there; some soreness but nothing too bad). I was extra tired, it seemed, but after taking a GU halfway through, my energy perked up a little.

FOR WORK: I went through all of my files, paper and electronic, and wrote down all of the resources I have for my class. I organized them into categories. A good amount of work, but nothing too time-consuming.

FOR PLAY: The beach will have to count, though I never sat down during my visit; it was a short one. But I plan on returning later this week.

I'm looking forward to tomorrow's "For Play," a movie or two at the Naro, which is offering, back-to-back, the only two movies I'm interested in seeing: "The Kids are All Right" and "Cyrus."

There's a great event happening at the waterfront (a few blocks from my apartment) on Wednesday, but I'm a little afraid of going. It's National Cupcake Day and they'll be giving out free cupcakes, along with having various games and such. I may have to pass. Or I can just work out extra hard that day and get a nice treat.

We'll see how the next few days go...

Day 4

Oooh, there were moments tonight when I wanted to grab the box of Snackwells cookie packets and eat them all. That's what happens when you sit in front of the TV at night.

But then I pictured myself on that bike, trying to climb that hill.

I only went 7 calories over my calorie goal today, which was a success because it was a day with little exercise, meaning I only got 1,270. It's a tough thing to do sometimes, especially when you have your evening free.

So I've made it four days. Longer than I've gone in awhile.

Some good things I did for myself today:

1. Ate 7 servings of fruits/veggies.

2. Walked to work and back, and enjoyed it (such a lovely day)

3. Started planning out my options for the week. I filled up the sheet for work goals and health goals but am actually having a hard time coming up with nine options for fun. I'll sleep on it. See what else I can come up with.

Off to bed...

Day 3.1

I'm equating the next few days with encountering a huge hill on a bike ride. It's going to take every ounce of effort to get me through, to get over the hill. I'm mentally preparing myself for it, and I hope to use that image when things get tough.

Why the concern? It's Saturday, of course. The day of the week where I get off work at 7 p.m. (ish) and have a whole night ahead of me, a night that screams for me to stop at the grocery store and buy something bad.

And after that, my days off begin - a whole week with no structure/plans.

When I couldn't sleep this morning around the wicked hour of 3 a.m. (why is it always 3 a.m. when I wake up in the middle of the night?), I came up with an idea for my week. I'm going to create a to-do chart with three columns: For Fun, For Work, For My Health. I'll write down nine items in each category and pick one from each every day. That could be fun. Like a Choose Your Own Adventure for my stay-cation.

I'll let you know what I come up with for the categories when the day is through. At that point, I hope I'll have made it up part of the hill, feeling good about what's to come.

Day 3

Good things I did for myself today:

1. Ate four servings of fruits/veggies

2. Resisted all-you-can-eat cake at work.

3. Walked to work and back.

4. Is getting to bed at 10 p.m.(ish)

Not as many fabulous things today, but it was an exhausting day of work. So I'm off to bed.

This week's challenge: Starting tomorrow night, I'm on "stay-cation" for the next 9 days. With no solid plans besides preparing for the upcoming semester, I do fear I'll eat poorly and oversleep. I just need to keep my eyes on the prize. And maybe plan for one night out at a restaurant. Perhaps I need to invest in a good book...

Day 2

Good things I did for myself today:

1. Went to the gym and did boxing class, plus some extra cardio.

2. Ate six servings of fruit/veggies.

3. Didn't wear a T-shirt to work.

4. Resisted two kinds of cookies and lots of candy at work.

Well, it's past 2 a.m. and I just got home from work. I'm expected to be back at 10, which means I have to decide whether to sleep 7 hours or only 5 and exercise. After having to climb the five flights to my apartment just now b/c the elevator is broken, I'm thinking sleep may win. And I'm OK with that.

Day 1 (please don't laugh)

What I did that was good for me today:

1. I prepared some meals for the week, including batter for my favorite whole wheat blueberry pancakes, some sweet potato chips and what turned out to be a delicious shrimp and chicken stir-fry.

2. Went to the gym. (Stretched, did arm weights, did an hour of cardio alternating between the treadmill and bike two times each, did some crunches.)

3. Ate at least seven servings of fruits/veggies.

4. Drank water.

5. Walked to work and back.

6. Did not wear a T-shirt to the office.

My foot is sore, but no more sore than it has been lately. I'm icing it as I prepare for bedtime and hoping I can squeeze in some running here and there without doing damage. I'm stubborn. I know. I may regret it.

In hiding

I just ordered some clothes from a plus-size website.

I had to. I start teaching again in a few weeks, and I have absolutely nothing to wear that doesn't make me look like a slob. My work outfits currently have me rotating among three tight skorts and a half dozen worn-down T-shirts. Classy.

In May, before my trip to Pittsburgh, I was forced to visit a host of plus-size stores as I tried to find clothes that, while big, would make me look nice. At one store, the sales lady asked if I wanted to be put on a mailing list for discounts. I said no.

"I'm hoping to..." I started.

"...cross over to the other side?" she finished.

Yes, that is the goal. To never have to visit another plus-size store again.

The sales lady continued ringing up my purchase, her eyes down and a small grin on her face. She knew. I'd try to lose weight and fit into pretty clothes, but, after failing, I'd be back in her store.

So I took my shopping online.

I dread the upcoming semester. I look awful. I don't know if I'm going to be able to find nice clothes that fit me. It scares me.

My current work outfit of big T-shirts is just one sign of the obvious: I've been trying to hide from the world. Pair the T-shirts with my downcast eyes as I walk down halls and sidewalks, and you will see a girl trying to be invisible despite her growing size.

It affects every part of my life. I haven't visited my mom in a year. Why? Because I weigh 30 pounds more than she does and I'm too ashamed. I haven't visited my friends in Wilmington in forever. Why? Because I fear being back in a town where I so publicly swore I'd never go back to my plus-size days.

Every few months, I look to the calendar and realize, "Oh, it's X months until X, I need to lose this weight." X months until a race. X months until a trip. X months until school starts. Then, by the time the event arrives X months later, I'm either exactly the same weight or heavier.

Today I look at the calendar and see that it's less than three months until the 10K I so desperately wanted to PR in. And less than three months until another race I am considering that would bring me back to Wilmington. The odds aren't looking good.

They're especially not looking good because of an injury that has sidelined me (surprise!) from, well, everything. I've got a pain in my foot that appears to be a tendon issue. I've rested. I've iced. I've elevated. And occasionally, I can walk to work with no problem. And, then, occasionally, I step out of bed and can't put weight on my foot because of the pain. Like today.

The only cure for inflamed tendons is rest. Which to me translates to: get even fatter if I don't make better choices in my eating.

I don't want the calendar months to fly by as I hide from life. That's not living. It's a waste of time and it's boiling an entire life down to my weight, when there are so many other pieces of me I'm not embracing and showcasing and loving.

So I can't run. So what?

I also can't hide anymore.

Past catches up

Today, a name popped up on Facebook that sucked the breath out of me.

The name appeared in a posting from a friend who friended him. As in, "so-and-so is now friends with so-and-so." I hadn't seen the name in years, maybe decades. But the memories of this boy, now man, are very fresh in my mind.

When my trembling hand clicked on the name and I saw his photo, I could see in the grown man's face his younger self, glaring down at me from over the school bus seat two rows ahead.

Middle school isn't easy for many kids, I realize. For me, as a fat child, it was torture. If we're given a certain amount of strength when we're born, I think mine was all used up by 1989.

I was made fun of at the bus stop. I was taunted in the classroom. I was looked down on by the gym teachers. But the terror truly began when I stepped on to the school bus each morning and afternoon.

It was my hell on wheels. Three boys, including The Ringleader, took teasing to the next level and hurled insults at me like candy from a parade float. To be honest, I can't recall what they said to me, with the exception of the time The Ringleader asked me if I weighed 300 pounds. Twenty-some years later, all I can remember is the intense fear I felt when I climbed onto the bus and saw their jeering faces. It's possible I can't remember specifics because, during those insult tirades, I likely shut down and went into protective mode.

Seeing The Ringleader's name on Facebook today brought back a flood of insecurities, not that I needed any more, thank you very much.

They say that your history makes you the person you are today. If that's true, I wonder what those years did to me and what part of my adult life has been shaped by that pain. Is that why I pull out my armor and try to shield myself from anticipated slights, even if there is nothing to shield myself from?

While the sight of this person's name caused me a little bit of anxiety today, and while I did click on his name to see if I could learn anything about who he is today, that's where the curiosity begins and ends. I don't hate him. I don't wish him ill will. I know people grow up and don't necessarily carry with them the same qualities as their younger selves. And I have long since forgiven friends who, when I was younger, taunted me in middle school.

Perhaps he hasn't changed. But that's not my problem anymore. And that should bring me peace. Because today, at age 35, the only person I need to protect myself from is myself. I need to love that girl on the bus and fight the insults I hurl at her when the scale goes up and, based on that, I declare her unworthy of love and kindness.

I've got to get off the damn bus.

I thought I was OK with it

Unlike last year, when I sank into a very deep depression after postponing the marathon goal, I thought I was OK with it this year.

I thought wrong.

Yesterday, I officially put my bib number up for sale on the MCM site. I got five offers within the next two hours. All those people ready to train and own that marathon experience. As I started doing the computer work to transfer the bib number, I began crying. I didn't realize it would be that emotional.

Then.

Well, it's 4:54 a.m. and I am awake. I started thinking about the transfer again and began to get extremely anxious. Heart beating wildly, can't breathe, etc. The idea of failing a second time, the idea that something I wanted so terribly is now gone again (and I am solely to blame) has me sitting in the dark, sans the glow of this computer, wondering if I can accomplish anything ever again. Passion for a goal obviously isn't enough for me.

It's hard. When you don't make progress at your job, when your personal life is untidy, you'd like to see a little success somewhere. And when you don't, well, it's kind of heartbreaking. Disappointing. Lonely.

All these folks out there making their goals happen and you're stuck on life's treadmill. You're chasing that carrot stick but going nowhere. So you stop, grab the damn carrot stick and eat it.

I guess life always seems a little darker (literally) when you can't sleep at night and you start to feel suffocated by failures. I know, I KNOW, my blessings outweigh my problems. It's just hard to see them in the dark.

Week 1 weigh-in: Part 2

Beginning weight: 210.2
Last week's weight: 210.2
This week's weight: 210.6
This week's loss: +0.4
Total loss: +0.4
Left to lose: 43.6 pounds

I kinda hit my head against the wall after this morning's weigh-in, and it was one of those times I wanted to curl back up into bed and sleep the depression away.

Only it was 5 a.m. and I needed to get out to Virginia Beach for a 5K.

Somewhere I found the energy, laced up those running shoes and headed out to Fort Story. At 7 a.m., it was 88 degrees. And forts, alas, aren't known for their many trees and shady trails. No, instead I was faced with endless black asphalt and a blazing sun.

But with no timing chips, I didn't feel as much pressure. A good thing, because my legs felt like lead. Only 7 minutes in, I had to walk. But when I completed my first mile, I realized I had done it rather quickly (for me). It seems as if I may be getting faster during my running spurts.

My legs warmed up about halfway through, but, alas, so did the rest of my body. The sun was brutal.

I finished in about the same time as the 5K two weeks ago (but this one had hills). While I didn't show much improvement, I was just glad I got out there. It would have been easy to "sit this one out" because of today's temps.

This week, while not successful on the scale, was successful exercise-wise. I got out there four out of seven days (not including my daily 1-mile walks to/fro work), not letting heat or rain or humidity stop me. I'm not a poster girl for dieting, obviously, but all I can do is keep trying, keep running and keep the faith.

That was a close one

I very nearly missed my boxing class today. I got up super late and it was 11:50 before I made up my mind that I'd go to the noon class. I'm glad I went. Though they still haven't fixed the A/C and it was 86 degrees in the boxing room, it was good to be there. (After all, it was cooler than being outside!)

Unfortunately, on the very last boxing exercise before moving on to other circuit training, my right hook left me in shooting pain in my elbow. Prior to the injury, my trainer kept saying I wasn't hooking correctly. I kept trying to fix it. When I grasped my elbow in pain, he simply nodded and said, "Yeah, you're not doing it right." Ya think?

Luckily, within 5 minutes or so, the pain had subsided to a dull thump. It hurts but it's more like a soreness now. I have a feeling designing tonight at work will be a painful challenge.

After class, which ended five minutes early, I decided to make sure I got in my full hour's workout (we also started about 10 minutes late) and I hit the treadmill, running for a mile.

I'm so glad I went to the gym. It was quite the struggle to get me there; I've just been so exhausted lately and I wonder if the heat is to blame.

Last night, I overate, but I did it healthfully (does that even make sense?). I went to this new Kebab Shack on Granby and ordered some chicken skewers. I had no idea what kind to get, so I got the variety plate. Ended up being a whole lot of chicken. It was grilled and tasted light. But, yeah, despite my full stomach, I ate it all.

Well, man, it hurts to type now, which doesn't bode well for work. Better go get the ice pack...

Not the sharpest knife in the drawer

Just got back from a three-mile run.

After the first mile, which I ran straight, I felt like I wasn't going to make it any farther. I did a quarter mile on and off the rest of the way.

Now I see this on weather.com:

Current temperature:
96°F
Feels Like: 107°
Details:
Dangerous heat index. Outdoor exposure should be limited.

Yeah, I'm a smart one...

The weigh-in is back

Remember the old weekly weigh-in? Back in the days of yore (the first four months of the year), I would bravely record the results from the scale each week, telling you where I'd been and where I was and where I hoped to be.

I stopped the weigh-ins for some excuse or another. But I realize now I need to bring them back. And what better time to start than the present.

This weight (the "beginning") is from this morning.

Beginning weight: 210.2
Last week's weight: xx
This week's weight: 210.2
This week's loss: x
Total loss: xx
Left to lose: 43.2 pounds

I've been having a rough time lately, and I admit, I'm pretty scared going into this weekend feeling depressed and hungry. (Hungry in spirit, not in stomach, though as you know, I tend to confuse the two.)

But I did a very Oprah thing and ordered the new book "Women, Food and God," which conveniently arrived in my mailbox this morning, along with "Run Your First Marathon" (yes, I've still postponed the marathon goal but I wanted the book nonetheless). I hope the two books will keep me focused as I slog through a lonely two days off.

Fate on a treadmill

Sunday rocked. I ran/walked 7 miles, kayaked for an hour and felt great.

Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, I was the laziest dog ever.

Missing Wednesday's run was killer because it was supposed to be my speed training. But instead, I simply sat like a slug on the couch, feeling guilty but depressed and unable to move.

Today, I managed to drag my lazy self to boxing class. Only to discover it wasn't going to be boxing class today. It was going to be...a speed workout on the treadmill.

Now, you know how MY speed training runs have been going. "Speed" being "better than a turtle's walk." So it was pretty hilarious when Max The Trainer said we'd jog for a minute, sprint for 30 seconds, "with the jog at 4.5 and the sprint at 9 or 10." In my head, I jumped off the treadmill, grabbed my bag and laughed my way to the elevator.

In reality, though, I humored him. I hit the "9.0" on the treadmill and watched with wide eyes as my feet flew every which way and my fingers stumbled across the keypad to un-humor him. I changed the speed to 6, and after the 30 seconds was up, told Max The Trainer that I considered a 10-minute-mile speed to be true speed. He then humored ME, allowing the change.

I was proud, though. I continued the speed workout for a mile, then had to take a short break to stretch my calves, then did another half mile, alternating between 4.5 and 6. The girl next to me, who rocks all our workouts b/c she has the core of an iron statue, couldn't keep up with ME. It felt good.

We finished the class with circuit training, where I managed to make a fool of myself on such exercises as the inverted crunch (couldn't get my body off the bench so I had to kinda roll off).

But I'm glad I can say I did speed work this week. I also signed up for the Wicked 10K on Oct. 30 at the Beach, so my new goal has been formalized. Maybe next time I'll try a 7.0 on that treadmill.

Or not.

(POSTSCRIPT: I just looked up what 9.0 on a treadmill translates to. A 6:40-minute-mile. Ha-ha-ha doesn't even begin to cover my reaction.)

5K: The do-over

I always have trouble sleeping before a big race. I'm usually very restless before a half marathon or 10-miler and can never get a wink in.

But who'd have thought I'd get that way before a 5K? A mere THREE miles.

Yet, there I was this morning, 3 a.m., unable to sleep. Then at 4. Then at 5. Then at 5:30.

And then, 30 minutes before the alarm went off, I slept.

And didn't want to wake up.

But off I went, eyes half open, to a 5K on a sticky, sticky morning. I was literally drenched before the start horn blew; the humidity was like a wet, soppy cloud that engulfed us all.

I knew from the second my feet crossed the start mat that I'd do better at this 5K than I did at last week's. My legs felt just fine, almost fresh. The race organizer said there would be water at each mile so I told myself to just make it to Mile 1 without stopping. Well, I guess when he said there would be water at each mile, he meant "somewhere within the mile." I ran straight until I saw the glimmer of cups ahead at the 1.5 mile mark.

I hardly drank a thing from my cup but I immediately felt nauseated. I threw the rest of the water over my already soggy body and pushed ahead. And by push ahead I mean I ran for a quarter mile, walked for a tenth of a mile, etc.

Then, up ahead, I saw a little boy walking alone (the race was for For Kids, which helps homeless families). As I passed him, I heard him mumbling/grumbling/making the kind of HURMPFH I make when I can't go a step farther. I told him there was only a half a mile left and he was doing great. Then I asked if he wanted to run with me.

We ran a little, walked a little, and he regaled me with stories of his other visits to the arboretum, his gymnastics class, his sister and mom who were behind us somewhere, and how the winner probably already won his medal even though he (the boy) was running AS FAST AS HE COULD!

I told him he was probably one of the fastest kids there. He said "maybe." Then he looked behind us at a boy a couple of yards away. "I have to beat him," he said. So we ran some more (this time, though, he took off in one of those kid sprints to prove his point; then he stopped, turned around and waited for me and we continued our jog/walk).

I honestly don't know if I would have run more without him or run less without him. But I'm glad I don't know, because it was a precious moment. When we reached the 3-mile mark and he saw the crowd up ahead, he sprinted away and crossed to the sounds of cheers and clapping. (And, yes, he beat that boy.)

And I finished 2 minutes and 20 seconds better than last week's race.

I was still slow, but much improved. The last time I had run that fast was in April, when, yes, I was more than 10 pounds lighter.

On a side note, I'm noticing a pattern emerging from my recent races. After I cross the finish, I run into a person (always a woman) who stops me and says thanks. Supposedly I am a good pacer. "I tried to keep up with you for the first mile," this latest woman said. "It was my first race." This follows two recent races where a similar thing happened. It's bizarre. But it's why I love running. Even overweight shufflers can inspire.

As can grumbling little boys.

Ouch

So, I returned to boxing class a full two weeks after my last class. Big mistake to miss so many (though all of last week's classes were canceled b/c the trainer was on vacation). My legs are so sore! They actually were really tired going into the workout - so tired I felt pained during each exercise. Well, not pain. But tired-ness.

I'm giving my legs a break today, but I signed up for another 5K for tomorrow. I figure I can use it as my speed workout for the week, and I'd really like to see some improvement from last week's race. We shall see.

The weight has been going well, thanks to MyFitnessPal. I'm down 7.8 pounds from two weeks ago and am trying to prepare myself mentally for the slowdown that will soon occur. I really want to get back under 200 pounds again, but that may take another month. Or more.

Despite the heat, I've walked to work all week, and I really do love it. I always walk much, much faster on the way home, as it's past midnight and I always worry. So it's a good little workout before bedtime. (Can you call 8 minutes a workout?)

Well, my sore legs and I are off to an early, early shift at work, after a late, late shift last night. Let the yawns commence....(Do you burn calories yawning??)

Blah

(According to my computer's memory, I've used this title "Blah" twice before. I need to think more creatively when I'm blue!)

Had an awful, awful 5K on Sunday - the worst in memory. My calves were so tight I had to walk most of the first mile. It was frustrating, though, because I felt like I had the energy to run, just not the legs to take me there. I actually thought about taking off my timing chip and leaving the race course, but the paranoid part of me thought that if I registered going across the start mat but not the finish mat, the race organizers would think I dropped dead and would call out the Guard to look for me. So I plodded away with a big ole frown on my face. I even took off my Uncle Sam hat during the walk portions.

(On a positive note, Greg finished first in his age group and ninth overall: I was very jealous, er, proud!)

I felt sick Sunday night into Monday and had to skip dinner and my Monday long run.

Today's "run" was pathetic and was more of a walk.

Tomorrow is speedwork day, and we'll see what happens. I need to stretch my legs and roll my calves today and really focus on them. I had plans to go to boxing class after my run this morning but my energy is sapped. Could be the 95-degree temps. I'm afraid if I go to class, they'll all look at me like I'm a weakling. I think I'll skip the run before Thursday's class and perhaps do some cardio after.

I didn't eat awful over the weekend, but I did overeat a bunch of crap last night. Don't know what it is about the end of the weekend that makes me binge. Perhaps I know that a strict diet week is approaching. Who knows.

Back on track today. That's all I can focus on.

Plugging along

I must say, I am loving this MyFitnessPal.com site. It makes me think about every little thing I eat and every opportunity to exercise. Anything to show positive numbers. The other day, I wanted to eat some pretzels (100 calorie pack) but I only had 68 calories left for the day. So I got up from my desk and did 312 steps to burn some calories first.

My easy run yesterday still was stuck around a 14-minute-mile. Tomorrow is a Fourth of July 5K, so we'll see what I'm truly capable of. I hope to do a 5K every month or so to see if my times improve. On Monday, Greg and I may go running in First Landing, where my hope is to put in miles but perhaps by simply walking them. We'll see how my calves feel. They've been rather tight lately.

I'm a bit worried going into this weekend. There are too many opportunities to eat. I was proud of myself yesterday, as I sat at my desk, gripping my computer mouse with white knuckles as huge slices of what smelled like heavenly cake were delivered past me. Folks lined up to get theirs, yet still slices remained when I walked past them to go to the printer. I thought about how much MyFitnessPal.com would calculate "one bite of cake" but then I just rushed back to my desk, sans cake.

Let's hope the rest of the weekend proves just as successful.

Guess you have to start somewhere...

So to make this post positive, I can only say today's "speed" workout will hopefully be the one I can look back on and say, "Look how much I improved!"

4 miles
57.15 minutes
14.17-minute-miles

Only able to "speed" for 1.5 minutes at a time.

But I got out there, thanks to a friend's invite to the "My Fitness Pal" website, where I entered my "calories consumed" and desperately wanted to enter "calories burned."

(A special, special thanks to all of you who have written to me and sent such kind, caring words. Your support means so much.)

Quitter or Realist?

As I approached Mile 3.5 on my Sunday long run, I made a monumental decision:

I am not going to train for a marathon this year.

I didn't make this decision because I was tired at Mile 3.5. It was simply made during a moment of clarity.

I was thinking about how slow I've gotten as the weight has piled on. How I plan for 15-minute-miles on my long runs. How I want to be faster. How I had managed to gain weight last fall, despite running 16, 18, 20 miles on my long runs.

And I asked myself: Do I want to run a marathon, even if it means I ran a marathon-while-fat? Is my goal truly to run a marathon, or is it to be healthy?

There's also this nagging part of me that wonders if I've been sabotaging my weight-loss effort because I DON'T want to run (train for) a marathon. My heart doesn't believe that. But my head does. Perhaps I never wanted to get to 175 pounds because then the marathon plan would be written in stone.

I don't know.

On my return 3.5 miles on Sunday (I only did 7 total), I took my earphones out and walked back. I listened to the birds and the trees and my heartbeat. And I made plans for a new goal: I'll train for a 10K, with the goal of setting a PR. This will mean harder workouts, but not necessarily the longer workouts that accompanied marathon training.

You may wonder why I don't just take the marathon plan down a peg and train for another half marathon. My heart has, indeed, been heavy wondering when I'd run one again. It's been more than a year, almost a year and a half, the longest I've gone. And part of me wonders if I'll lose that part of me.

But when I do train for longer races, I sacrifice speed. I don't do speed training for fear of injuring myself and not being able to run long. It's only when I bump up my activity level and speed train that I see results in my body. Two summers ago, that was what I worked on. I had a little list at the bottom of my training calendar where I wrote "best times" and tried to beat them. I haven't done that in ages. it's time I refocus on that.

I would like to reiterate something from a long-ago post: I don't want to run a marathon simply to mark it off on a life's to-do list. I want to be a marathon runner. I want to be that girl in the cute running skirt with toned legs and arms who runs long because it makes her feel good and alive and because she can. This marathon goal of mine isn't going anywhere. It's just being postponed (again) while I try to focus on something smaller, yet bigger: How to get healthy again.

I call myself the Fat Runner, and while I'm not ashamed to be that (hell, I'm RUNNING), I don't want to remain that girl because I haven't tried harder to NOT be that girl.

So what is this 10K PR I speak of? Well, I've run countless 10Ks, but I've never gotten below the time I reached in my very first 10K (when, yes, I was my thinnest). It was the Oak Island Lighthouse 10K, and I ran it in 1:11:30, which was an 11:30-minute-mile. I've gotten close to beating it. Two summers ago, when I trained for speed, I managed to get a 1:12:30 in the Marine Corps 10K. I felt awesome in that race and would have achieved a PR had I not run out of steam in the last mile.

I've been as slow as 1:23.

My last 10K, last month, was 1:19.

So I have a ways to go.

As I was walking back on Sunday, trying to be all Zen about the decision I made, I couldn't help but wonder about how people would view it. Would they think I'm a quitter? Would they think, "Of course she's not going to do it. I never thought she would"? Would they be disappointed I'm not even trying again?

Am I disappointed?

Maybe.

Am I a quitter?

Maybe.

But am I at peace with my decision?

Yes.

And, right now, that's what matters most. I can't run a 10K looking back.

Soul searching

Sometimes I feel like I'm living two lives.

I'm the girl who lost a lot of weight, who strives to be a runner and wear cute clothes. I'm the girl who loves to go out on long runs, get sweaty and grimy and muddy. I feel pride when I take hourlong spin classes, boxing classes. I read books and magazines on how to eat healthfully. I love being outside and feeling the sun on my skin.

But I'm also the girl who grew up fat and unhealthy, who became an obese and then morbidly obese adult, who succumbs to her depression by stuffing her face and avoiding the world. I'm the girl who will lose a few pounds, only to gain them back, sometimes in the same month, sometimes in the same week. I self-sabotage. I try to diet, but as I'm dieting, I think about how it won't last. How I'll always be fat. So I load up on fatty foods at the grocery store, avoiding eye contact with the cashier, with the world.

It's disturbing, living this dual life. Who knows which Diana I will wake up to. My personalities are extreme and I never have a little of each. I'm one or the other. In a big way.

This past weekend, I fell into a depression. My mind was swimming with all those things I try not to think about: Where is my life going? Will I ever have a family? Am I doomed to live a solitary life? Have I hit the peak in my career? With each question, I ate. And ate.

The scale zoomed up, of course. And I fell deeper inward.

They say awareness is the first step; acknowledge that you have a problem and then you can start correcting it. Oh, I'm aware. And oh, I've acknowledged. And yet here I am. At a loss for where to go now.

Of course I prefer runner Diana, healthy Diana, fit Diana. Of course I hate being trapped inside obese Diana, depressed Diana, lonely Diana. So it seems like a simple solution: Just be what you want to be. Do what makes you happy.

Unfortunately, the battle isn't always in my control. But I know, deep down, I have the weapons to fight. And fight I will.

Great race

Don't have much time to write (off to do a little more running before the temps skyrocket this morning) but I wanted to update you on the past few days.

First, my Friday weigh-in: 207.2, so I lost about a pound and a half. I was pleased.

Second, my Saturday 8K. I was extremely worried as I started running those first few steps. My legs felt exhausted. I could only think about my leg workouts at the gym and how they probably just wiped my little stumps out. But I was determined to plow through. (Oh, and I only had four hours of sleep, too.)

Turned out, all went just fine. It was blazing hot in the sun, but those moments in the shade - sometimes a whole stretch of a city block - were glorious and I always picked up speed at those points. After running the first mile, I did a run/walk. Then, during the last mile, as I thought about trying to just get through a quarter mile at a time, an odd, odd, odd burst of energy hit me and I was able to run almost the whole mile.

Yes, I was still insanely slow (1007th out of 1156) but it was a great run on a pretty day and I was pleased as punch.

Toot toot

(That's me tooting my own horn.)

I could be down on myself - why not? I weigh too much and have a serious eating problem. But I'm going to pat myself on the back today. I just got back from my boxing class, which followed a three-mile run/walk. And despite my exhaustion and feeling crappy after the run (I'm beginning to doubt I can ever run straight again), I not only attended the class and not only finished the class, but I kept up with the class. I boxed and kicked and squatted and lunged and stepped and (kinda) pushed up and crunched. I did it despite feeling like I was going to vomit. And when, after a hard set, I took off my hand wraps and the trainer looked at me and asked if I'd had enough, I said, "Oh, I'm not leaving."

And I didn't.

It sucked. And I felt very foolish, especially doing the frog leaps, with my big thighs flapping together for all to hear. But I never stopped. And I'll give myself credit for that.

Blah

God, I hate looking at myself in the gym mirror.

That was a tough one

Yesterday's 8-miler was tough, but I blame myself for every single step. I got up at 7 a.m. but decided to fall back asleep. Got up again at 10. Didn't leave my apartment until 10:45. Didn't get out to First Landing until 11:30 (oh, right, BEACH traffic; who'd a thunk on a summer Sunday at 11:30?).

It was HOT, and worse, HUMID and I had only myself to blame.

But I did it. It was hell. The first half was just fine, but the second half seemed to last hours and hours. I'm still having flashbacks of the internal struggle of getting through each quarter mile. The humidity was so bad it was hard to breathe.

Luckily during that last mile, I had an angel sneak up on me. A man who was running came to a stop behind me and said, "I could use the company." He, too, was soaked in sweat. He was finishing up 14 miles and, like me, was savoring the last drops in his water bottle. He only stayed a moment and then was off, but it was enough to get me moving.

Otherwise, the weekend has been OK. I did have an unfortunate run-in with a box of Reduced Fat Cheez-Its. I knew when I bought it I was going to regret it. But part of me was like, "Oh, I can portion these out into little bags." Yeah, right. Oh well. Could have been worse.

I meet for my consultation with my trainer in a half hour, then will spend the rest of the day (hopefully) making progress with this proofreading job. I got a lot done yesterday, but not nearly enough, what with my insanely late start.

One week down

I always think it's funny how pathetically out of shape some of my muscles are - and how I'm shown this the day after an intense workout. The pain started hours after yesterday's boxing class, but today....well, today I could barely roll over in bed to answer the phone. Every movement is accompanied by an "oomf."

But it's the good kind of sore, and while my schedule says to run today, I will not be doing so. I'm going to catch up on my proofreading job and clean and have lunch with a friend. And try to stretch a little in between.

The scale today: 208.8. So, technically 11.2 pounds lost since last week, but we know that it's not real. The first week for me, always, and especially after pigging out, will show a much bigger loss. Also, the morning I registered 220 was after a night eating Chinese food, which will just pack on the water weight.

But, yes, I'm happy to have made it a week. I worry a little about the weekend. But I'll have this book to keep me occupied, I hope.

Nothing better

Let me begin by saying that, despite my late work hours, I really do love being woken up by the sun at 5:40.

It helped me today.

Now let me back up.

Five years ago, when I was a much thinner little lady, I loved, loved, loved my gym: the WAC, or Wilmington Athletic Club. It was so awesome, and my favorite thing was the kickboxing class. I wasn't any good at it, but it gave me a great workout.

When I moved to South Hampton Roads, one of the first things I did was look for a gym that had kickboxing (with, ahem, bags; none of this kicking the air stuff). I couldn't find one at all. I even called personal boxing gyms but what they offered wasn't what I was looking for.

So I was thrilled when I discovered that The Gym Downtown (less than a block away from my new apartment) had actual punching bags and a boxing class. I decided to give it a whirl this morning. The class started at 6:30. I set my alarm for 6.

But the glorious sun woke me up at 5:40 and so I was able to arrive nice and early. Max (truly, it seems, one of the coolest personal trainers - though I will always love the YMCA's Carol Ann) put me on the treadmill since I was there early. Then the class, which was brutal and awesome. There were only three of us, which seems to be the norm, and we started by jumping rope, then did circuits of different jabs for a half hour. Then we did circuits of other brutal exercises (you should have seen me look at Max with wide eyes as he demonstrated stepping up on a bench that came to my upper, upper thigh and then demonstrated the modified pull-ups). But I succeeded, and he seemed impressed that this big girl could work out. He was extremely encouraging and the other two folks in the class were great, too.

So I signed up for this great (and relatively cheap, compared to the Y) gym. Though if this 6:30 schedule continues (and I actually really liked it), I foresee many afternoon naps in my future.

Day 5

It's amazing how the way a person treats you can make or break your day.

Remember the lady at the gym near my apartment who made me feel bad? Well, today I decided to try out another nearby gym, also less than a block away (why Norfolk has two private gyms in a one-block span I have no idea). I stopped in on my way to work, and the guy at the counter was so nice. I asked about the cost (it's cheaper!) and told him that his gym was appealing to me because it offers boxing with real bags. "Well, I teach that class!" he said. He told me the basics of the gym, how we'd set up goals and talk about what's worked in the past and what hasn't, etc. Before I left, he invited me to his Thursday class, smiled and shook my hand. Never once did he make me feel bad about how I looked. He never made me feel like his class would be too hard for me. He was welcoming and it made my day.

So, I do believe I'll be joining The Gym Downtown, and I'm excited about some of the classes it offers. Working out at home just isn't working for me (you know, having to compete for space with a mouse and all).

Oh what a day

It's been a bad day.

I decided to start the day by going out for my 30-minute jog/walk, as my training dictates. I thought that, on the way back, I'd pick up my mouse traps at PETA. Because of that, I decided to take a backpack and carry my wallet, keys, cell phone and a change of shirt.

Before starting my jog, I veered off to this new gym that sits two doors down from me. I just wanted to see how much it was to join. The cost isn't horrible ($45 a month, much cheaper than the YMCA) but the woman who showed me around made me feel horrible. Looking at me (and, yeah, I admit I looked really fat and awful in my running outfit), she asked if I could take the stairs. She made comments about working my way up in spin classes. Etc.

Then I started my jog. Almost at the halfway point and about to turn around, my backpack broke and my wallet and keys spilled out. I scooped them up and continued. Then I realized I should check for my cell phone. It wasn't there.

I proceeded to walk all the way back to my start, then back again to the turnaround. No phone. I scoured everywhere. I went to PETA, bought the traps and walked home, scouring as I went again. My 30-minute walk turned into 2 hours and 20 minutes and more than six miles.

So while it's good I got in a little more of a workout, I'm still pretty upset about the phone. It was time for a new one, yes, but I'm worried about my contact information and being able to keep my number. I keep calling it but no answer. I picture it in a bird's nest or at the bottom of a sewer playing "Chariots of Fire" to confused birds or rats.

Speaking of ... the trap hasn't worked yet. Half of me (still holed up in my bedroom) wants to catch it. The other half doesn't. I don't know how I'll pick that thing up and drive it to green pastures. He better be cute. I'm not a wimp but I'm not strong, either.

I haven't decided if I'm going to join that gym or not, but I was left today with the image of me in the gym mirrors looking worse than I have in forever. It was embarrassing. My summer running clothes just don't fit right and make me look even worse.

But onward I go. There's another gym steps away from my apartment (odd, huh?) and I may see how much it costs...and if the employees treat me better.

Days 2 and 3

Well, Days 2 and 3 weren't as perfect as Day 1 but they weren't awful. I didn't "cheat," but I went over my points by a few. Today, the scale showed 215.8.

I made three big mistakes today as I resumed my training schedule:
1. I hit snooze.
2. I turned off snooze/the alarm.
3. I decided I didn't want to drive to First Landing because of my late start.

Getting a late start (out the door by 9 a.m., also known as 85 degrees) was because of my own laziness. I got plenty of sleep but decided I wanted more. I don't know if it was the heat or my obesity or my lack of exercise lately, but I could not run for long. I did the run/walk up until 2 miles or so and then ended up walking the rest. Toward the end of the seven miles, I tried to do some more running, but not much. I was exhausted and woozy. The heat did me in. I'm still feeling toasty and it's 12 hours later.

I also should have gone to First Landing. It's a much softer surface and it is shady. But, again, I was lazy and didn't want to drive out there. I need to recommit myself to going out there for my long runs because it's so much better for me.

As I was walking today, I thought about how my blog is pretty telling because when you don't see a post for a long time, it's usually because I've fallen off the wagon. So it was pretty funny to see my friend Julie's comment on my last post saying the same thing! It's true, I know. And I do want to commit myself to writing and to this training. I'm hoping now that I'm home with no trips planned and no big events in the works that I can get myself into a good schedule. The month of May really did me in.

A funny aside: I have discovered a new diet. It's called the Mouse Diet. You see, I have a mouse (or, heaven forbid, a rat) and ever since I saw the sucker, I have hunkered down in my bedroom with a towel under the door. Yes I am hiding from it until I can go buy a trap (humane trap, I hope). But in my bedroom, I have no access to snacks. Makes for a good way to avoid eating at night! Though let's hope this won't last long. I love, love, love my new apartment and can't believe this is happening. One of the big reasons I moved from my old apartment was because of bugs. Only to move and have rodents??

Day 1

That sounds so funny to write - Day 1. But I made it through Day 1, and Day 1 was actually really hard for me (as most Day 1s are), so, yes, Day 1 deserves its own post.

I can't believe I'm back here again. Today's "settled" weight was 217, so I'm basically where I was in January. What a waste of all that effort.

For all the "woe is me" I did in the last post, I should update you on a few good things I did last week. I had signed up for two 5K races before my Pittsburgh trip, excited to have the chance to run in my hometown. I wasn't sure how successful I'd be or if I'd even do them both. But I did. And I had a great time.

The first one was on Saturday, an up-and-back course that was a very gradual decline on the way up and a very gradual (but noticeable) incline on the way back. I was slow, but it was great fun, as I had the chance to run with a childhood friend, who never abandoned me despite the fact I knew he could go much faster.

On Monday, I knew I was in trouble when I went to pick up my race bib number and I could barely make it up the hill (mountain) where the registration table was. The course was one big hill (mountain) after another. I knew the race would be hard (it was billed as a "challenging 5K") but I had no idea it would be THAT hard. But I walked it all and enjoyed making memories with my friend and his very cool family.

It was great to go back to where I grew up and run (OK, walk/shuffle/plod). Even better was the chance to share that with friends.

Food-a-holic hits rock bottom

So much to write, I truly don't know where to begin.

I just returned from a trip to Pittsburgh, where I ate my way from one end of the city to the other. Picture Pac-Man eating all those little dots and cherries, except replace the dots and cherries with ice cream and fried-everything and you've got my trip. Except Pac-Man is much more attractive than I was on this trip.

I already looked bad, worse than I had in years. And once I decided I was not going to diet on this trip (kind of like I hadn't dieted this whole month), I proceeded to exhibit signs of an alcoholic. An alcoholic doesn't just drink one glass. No, he drinks bottles and bottles until he is drunk out of his mind. With my food addiction, I ate until I was sick. And then I ate some more.

Pathetic.

When I look back on the first three months of the year and how good I was and how frustrated I was with my slow weight loss, I want to scream at Old Me and say, "You're doing awesome. It's coming off and will keep coming off. You just have to stick with it and know that eventually you'll get there. The alternative is you GAIN and you don't want that."

(Yes, I know what some of you are thinking: "Diana, I DID scream those things at you! You just didn't listen!")

So instead of being at my goal weight this lovely June day, I am heavier than I was when I first weighed in back in January. Yep. And I officially did something I am incredibly ashamed of: I entered the sacred 100 pounds-lost territory I swore I never would enter. You see, back five years ago, I lost 150 pounds. I regained 50 pounds but swore I'd never enter those first 100 pounds lost. Today, I forced myself on to the scale. 220 pounds. It pains me to write that.

I am deeply ashamed.

As I sit here squinting out of eyes surrounded by face fat, I hate myself and what I've done to myself. I hate that my running has suffered and that I'm miles behind my running goals. I hate that I enter summertime that big, sweaty fat girl whose fat can be seen bulging from short-sleeve shirts and shorts.

Yes, today is a new day. Yes, I've said that countless times before. But, yes, I'm back and I will try again.

Weight settled

After I begin a diet, I usually wait a few days to find out my "real" weight. The first weigh-in day (215 in my case) always will be higher than normal b/c of water weight and other factors so I just like to settle in first.

After two days of eating well (it's so hard to write that after having gone three months not too long ago), I'm at 207.4 (yeah, much better than 215 but, still, damage was done).

I'm in for a crazy week until I leave Thursday for Pittsburgh, and I hope, hope I can just concentrate on doing well in this week. I realize I won't be eating the best when I'm there, but I don't want to completely fall back. I'd like to be, well, normal and eat fun things but in moderation and while exercising. Will that ever be me? I hate this addiction I have.

Gotta get going, but I wanted to check in. Hope to get in a run today...

So helpful

On Friday, Greg asked if it would be OK if he didn't run Sunday's race. I didn't know if the question really was "we" but I answered by saying, sure, it's fine, but I still want to run it. I need it.

And I did.

I needed a kickstart back into my running routine. For two weeks, with the move and a proofreading job, I didn't run once and I didn't like where that was headed. I was pretty scared about how the race would go. I was sure I'd have to walk most of it, so I went to the website to make sure walkers were allowed. I checked last year's results to see the slowest time. I felt much better knowing that if I had to walk, I could walk.

It was a perfect day for a race. Cloudy, cool breeze.

And it was a perfect little race. At an elementary school (Peabody in D.C.) with lots of kids and families and dogs and not all serious runners with their perfect bodies. In other words, it wasn't an intimidating race.

I started in the back like I always do. And when I crossed the start mat, I told myself, just try to run the first mile.

Turned out, I was able to run 2.5 miles straight without stopping, and my three-mile time (37:14) was the best I've had since last fall. The next three miles were slower but I didn't walk much. There was a huge hill at the end, and I ran some of it. And as we hit the six-mile mark, with 0.2 left to go, I turned to the girl beside me who had stopped to walk and said "Let's finish together." So we ran to the end, and as I looked at my watch and saw that I could get under 1:20 if I just picked it up, I sprinted to the finish. Official time: 1:19:56.

It's not my best 10K, but it's not my worst one, either. And while I was insanely sore the next day (a "weekend warrior" sign that proves I haven't exercised a bit for weeks), the race did exactly what I prayed it would do: It let me know I still have the ability to run, that I haven't completely lost what I've worked for. So now it's time to use that as momentum to get moving on this training.

And that means facing reality weighing in for the first time since April. For one month, I've eaten horribly. Beyond horribly. And I know I have a trip to Pittsburgh in a week-and-a-half that will likely de-rail me again but I can't keep going this way. Nothing at all fits again. I basically took three months worth of hard work and dedication and flushed it away in one month.

Today's weigh in (and I wasn't going to post this but I need to be held accountable): 215.

So. I realize the damage I've done and how it could possibly make this marathon impossible yet again. But I'm not there yet. I'm still focused on trying again and am actually looking forward to the training now. That 10K helped me so very much.