Ugh.

Saturday, January 23, 2010

I have to run 10 miles this morning.

I started my period.
It's beginning to rain.
It's really windy.

But . .

It's 30 degrees, a heatwave compared to the last few weeks.
I have This American Life and lots of stories ready for the listening on the MP3.
It will be over by 10 am.

Looks like a wash.

I just had to get that out because I'm not feeling that strong this morning.

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Bowled Over: No Work Just Lots of Pins, Please

Monday, January 11, 2010

My daughter participated in a bowling tournament yesterday. It was her first. I guess I should say it was “our” first.

V, age 11, just started bowling in September. She hasn’t been at it long but really enjoys it. She begs to go bowling and I love that she has found something she truly enjoys. Like most kids her age, she’s not interested in learning “how” to bowl as much as she enjoys the excitement centered around the possibility of hitting ten pins.

She will probably love gambling some day. That worries me a little.

Watching my daughter in a competitive situation was an interesting experience. Neither of my kids has been interested in organized sports. In spite of stints in soccer, basketball, floor hockey and t-ball (and horseback riding and skating and skiing), organized sports hold no interest for them.

But now V loves bowling. That means she has to work with a team while also focusing on her own game. Outside of family, school and friends, that’s new to her.

Yesterday, V started the tournament strong. She was happy with her first few frames. Her teammates were also bowling well. Life on lane eight was good. But then V’s game soured. Bigtime. Frame after frame after frame, she’d gutter-ball it or just get a pin or two. Her teammates were still doing well and they continued to throughout all three games. V wasn’t doing well – and it showed.

V began to get frustrated. Bigtime. She’d bowl and stomp back to her seat. She barely cheered on her teammates. My husband and I pulled her aside twice and tried our best to provide perspective. It’s just a game, take it easy, some games are like that and by the way, cheer on your team. To be honest, we were embarrassed. Her attitude was terrible and she had basically removed herself from the team. For the most part, we let her navigate her feelings. I know her well enough that no amount of talking or “helpful” hints would have moved her off her angry spot.

Finally, toward the end of the second game, V was at the point of tears. She was embarrassed by that and said, “I should just quit. I hate this and will never do it again!” Stomp. I told her I knew how much she loved bowling, that she needed to take a deep breath and finish what she started (oh, and by the way, it would be great if she cheered on her teammates.)

About halfway through the third game, V pulled it back together and started to bowl well. She didn’t finish the game with a good score but she saw the tournament to the end. She even smiled. Barely. On the way home, I told her how I knew the tournament was tough for her; I knew she expected to do better and have more fun. But I really admired that she pulled it together in spite of how she felt. The bowling sucked, her attitude sucked but she changed it. She made a conscious choice to change her state of mind. There will be other tournaments and this is one she has to move into the “let it go” pile.

The point of all this is to say I saw myself on lane eight yesterday.

When I was sitting there watching V bowl, I found myself thinking, “She just needs a couple of good frames! Come on, she just needs to feel some sense of success! Why can’t things work out so she is having fun and doing well?! I hate this! Why do thing always work out this way?! Why? Why? Why?! Grrrrrrr.”

My daughter comes by her attitude honestly. Like me, she goes into each new activity full of excitement and then when things don’t go well she wants out. It’s all or nothing, baby. No work, just lots of pins, please. And when she’s in the midst of her own negativity, she wallows. It’s almost like it feels better to wallow than it does to suck it up and move on. I sure wish I could nip this one for her now.

I have been on this Spark journey for two years (two years tomorrow, actually.) I’ve had success in that I’ve lost 30 lbs., eat better and exercise consistently. I’ve met so many incredible people and that’s a gift I never expected.

I’ve worked hard. But the journey isn’t over. As I mentioned, I saw myself on lane eight yesterday. When it comes to food (and strength training) I am still adopting my daughter’s no work, just lots of pins, please philosophy. I am hoping that by simply stepping up to the lane that my desire alone will be enough to carry me to success. And then when it doesn’t work I wallow, looking for someone or something to make it better.

It’s not a pretty picture.

I see now that my advice to my daughter yesterday is what I need for myself. I need to let go of the bad frames that are behind me, let go of the bad attitude that’s with me, cheer on my teammates and get back to basics always. Most importantly, I need to see this game to the end. And that means I keep trying. I keep trying by working on my game, not by wishing/hoping/praying that it improves.

So, with that said, these are the steps I’m going to take:

1. I will incorporate strength training at least 2x weekly (via Fit for Life class and one workout on my own.) My focus will be on my core so most work will be done with planks, squats, lunges, ab work and with the use of bands and dumbbells. I have everything I need to do this, exercises are now posted all over my basement wall. No excuses.
2. I will incorporate interval training via Fit for Life class.
3. I will stock my shelves with good choices, surround myself with healthy choices. The focus will be on whole foods: whole grains, fresh fruits/veggies and lean proteins.
4. I will preplan at least four meals each week with a plan to add one meal to my freezer. Sat/Sun. will be my days to do this.
5. When I feel the need to graze or munch mindlessly, I’ll log my thoughts before I eat.
6. No alcohol.

Any other suggestions?

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My Body Might Like 170 but I DON'T!

Tuesday, January 05, 2010

170 seems to be my setpoint, the point at which my body says, "This is nice. I like it here."

After my son was born 13 years ago, I got down to 170 with little problem. After my daughter was born two years later I put on and took off weight over the next 11 years, never getting past 170. My body liked it there and I didn't want to do the work to get past it. So I put weight on because that was easier.

And then I joined Sparkpeople in January 2008. I lost 30 lbs. and felt great. I became a runner and more mindful of my food choices and lifestyle. I got down to 165 in October 2008 and had a big party in my head because I broke the barrier. Yay me!

But it's 2010 and I am at the dreaded 170. Yes, some of it is the recent holidays but it's been well over a year and I've been gaining and losing the same 5 lbs.

I need a tipping point.

I'm not big into resolutions. I spent too many years eagerly making resolutions, developing action plans, then blowing it all and leaving it behind.

But I need to lose at least 20 lbs. I feel better at 165 than I do at 170. So I know I could feel that much better at 150. Maybe I'd feel even better at 140. Who knows?

My body seems to think 170 is a nice place to stay. I run 15-25 miles each week and my body is perfectly happy to hang onto the weight and drag it around everywhere I go. Clearly exercise isn't going to unload the weight and get me past 170.

So that leaves food. Overall, I eat better than I did two years ago. I include more fruits, vegetables and whole grains. I've never been a big red meat eater and have always included lean proteins in my diet. So that leaves snacking and mindless eating and portions as potential tipping points.

I'm not sure what I will do yet and it's no surprise to me that food is the key to tipping the scale in the right direction. Sparkpeople and all the support it brings has taught me that every day is a new day and that doing something is better than doing nothing. So I will keep trying until healthy eating is fully integrated into my life. I know I do better when I am tracking via the Nutrition Tracker and planning my weekly meals. Plan and follow-through. That's where I will start - again. . .

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I FINALLY Did Something New

Monday, November 23, 2009

After months of considering it, I FINALLY took the Fit for Life class at the Y this morning. It's an interval class with a mix of high-intensity cardio and strength work. I know I need to work on strength to improve my running speed and endurance and I think this will be the ticket.

The class started with a warmup and then we did cardio work that involved jumping jacks, aerobics and literally running up and down stairs and all over the facility. Then we ran to the gym where we did walking lunges and wall squats mixed in with running dashes, bridges, crab crawling and bear crawling. The wall squats KILLED ME!



The class finished with upper body work with weights. I had to leave before the warmup to make it home in time to see my son off to the bus and wake up my daughter. I saw myself in a mirror on the way out of the Y and my face was beet red and the sweat was pouring. YAY!

What I liked about the class is that it had people of all ages and sizes. There were two teens, a couple of guys and one older lady (who worked her butt off! She was the lunge queen!)

I am pleased with myself today because 1) I made it to a 5:45 am class. 2) I kept up just fine. 3) I know it's the right thing because the strength stuff was really difficult. 4) I like to see older people in the class because it's a reminder that fitness is a choice.

Change is difficult for me and this is a step in the right direction.

The only problem is that this class was rumored to be easier today because we had a substitute instructor. The regular instructor is more intense and focuses more on the core/strength work. So, next week may be a different story. Stay tuned. . .

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Confession: I Suffer from Anxiety

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

It’s 10 am. I got up early at 5:15 to get a 2.5 mile run in. Then I got the kids out the door for school, got Book Fair at the middle school up and running with the volunteers and am about to head out the door to help a neighbor who broke both her shoulders.

My run this morning was horrible. I felt slow, heavy and never got up to speed. Every step seemed to be harder than the last. Thank goodness nobody else showed up in my group because it would have been tougher trying to keep up the pace. I should have walked but I kept running thinking, “It will get better. You must run. Walking is not an option.”

When I finished, it took a while for me to recover. I felt “off.” That’s the only description I have for it. I’ve run two half-marathons, a 10K and a couple of 5Ks and I had just labored through 2.5 miles like it was 25. I felt off.

And I still feel off.

I hate days like today. One thing builds on another and I can’t get it together.

I came home after running, felt some weirdness/weakness in my right arm and hand, felt a little dizzy and the old familiar anxiety started to insert itself. I took a shower and that seemed to help. But as I got my daughter ready for school the anxious feeling intensified. My head felt fuzzy; I felt jittery and on the verge of panic.

I think my body goes into overdrive at certain times. When something doesn’t feel right, my brain bypasses all rationality and goes into panic. My run didn’t feel right so my brain started yammering away, “Are you okay? Is there a problem with your heart?” Then I got home and felt the weirdness in my arm and my brain added, “Maybe you’re having a heart attack or stroke. Your run was miserable. Something must be wrong.” Then I got scared which must have brought on the light-headedness. My brain then said, “Something’s really wrong. What if you die here? You can’t have your kids find your dead body here when they get home! Do something!” Panic/anxiety. Welcome to the real me.

I am certifiable.

I had my first panic attack shortly after getting engaged in 1989. I didn’t know what it was, just felt really weird in the middle of a concert and almost passed out. I had my second attack a few months after moving to Michigan, in 1991. I ended up in the ER and that’s when I began to learn the finer points of life with panic/anxiety. Since then I’ve had anxiety (and sometimes panic attacks) off and on over the years. Back in the early 90s it was tough to manage but I got through it. It got better and eventually very manageable to the point of not happening. I moved to another state a few years ago and thought the panic/anxiety might come back but it didn’t. I thought I was home free and had it kicked. Until the last few months. I thought my new love of running would be the glue to keep it at bay. But that doesn’t seem to be the case. Bummer.

I did medication/therapy for a very short time back in 1990 but it didn’t seem to do anything for me. Instead, I read a lot and learned how to breathe and talk myself through the anxiety. I don’t know why my husband has stayed with me but he’s a saint to deal with my craziness.

What’s funny is that when I’m seriously stressed, as in completely overwhelmed and within every right to go stark raving mad, I’m remarkably calm. I don’t get panic feelings when the threat is real. I hunker down and do what needs to be done. So why does my body do this when the threat level is low? And why has the anxiety increased lately?

I am at my wit’s end. Every time I start to feel the anxiety, I think how silly it is. I know in my head that there’s no reason to panic, that there’s nothing wrong, yet my body tells me otherwise. It tells me I am dying, that I have cancer, that if I don’t do something I will be gone in the blink of an eye. It is so utterly frustrating and prevents me from being fully in the moment and able to feel joy. It’s exhausting.

This morning, I tried to answer the “why now” question that always pops up with anxiety. I know that some of it has to do with some recent physical problems I’ve been having. I have a CT scheduled for Sat. to check things out. Maybe I’m nervous they will find something. Who knows. I suppose the circumstances don’t matter because I finally figured out today that my panic/anxiety has to do with loss of control.

I have a number of activities going on this week. (And I’ve been worried about trying to manage all of them for a while.) I feel like I can’t manage my time and I don’t have time to think about who (including me) needs to get where and when. Just when I have a plan in place, it changes. The thing is, it’s not an extraordinary amount of activity. Some people would laugh at what’s on my calendar and say, “Is that all?! I do that and more every day!” So I’m in a constant state of “Why can’t I get it together?! Why can’t I just enjoy this instead of getting overwhelmed and irritable about it?” The kicker is that it’s all stuff I CHOSE to do. Nobody’s holding a gun to my head and yet my body responds like I’ve been held captive. Captive.

Why do I feel like a captive? I guess I feel that way because I am doing most of my activities out of a sense of obligation. I work part-time (very part-time) and do get paid for my work. But the extra stuff I do, I do because I think I should. I don’t get any sense of value or satisfaction from it. I said “yes” to someone and the obligation ball started rolling. And then I worry about what everybody thinks about me as I navigate these activities. So my theory is that I don’t enjoy my activities and the anxiety is telling me that I need to make a change. I am feeling out of control, so my body goes out of control.

I just want that peaceful easy feeling. Control gives me that.

But control is a double-edge sword. Control means order. Control means I am in charge. But not much in our world is ordered. And truly, there aren’t too many times when I’m in charge.

I am not good with surprises. I am not good with last minute plan changes. I am not good when I am not in control or if I lose control. I desperately want to be but I’m not. Why is that? And why can’t my mind and body work together to realize that it’s okay to be in the passenger seat? The world won’t end. People won’t judge me. I won’t die. But my body acts like it’s going to. I’m tired of it.

Why am I great in a true emergency but complete toast otherwise?

Running has been a saving grace. And now I’m afraid I’m going to let panic/anxiety ruin it. I need to find the joy. How do I do that?

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