I've Lost That Carb-y Feeling

I could probably go on and on about my love/hate relationship with carbs. OK, admittedly I have gone on and on about the subject. But I am coming to certain unsettling conclusions in my life and I am horrified it has taken me so long to figure things out. Let's just say I like carbs. A lot. And it's not like I will eat a loaf of bread or binge on cereal (most days) but I tend to eat a lot of processed things that are high in carbs. And sugar. If given the choice, I would probably live each day like my youngest child - on carbs, sugar, and several glasses of milk. My foray into the South Beach world did result in weight loss but I could barely keep my eyes open during my personal training. And everything felt SO hard. Or maybe I was just being a wiener baby, which is entirely plausible. The main thing I remember from lowering my carbs is the feeling of being on an even keel all day. No ups and downs and crying jags, (did I mention I started tearing up during a preview for that movie about the dolphin who lost his tail) I just felt steady. And I believe I was a much nicer person. But the reality of that apparently was not enough for me to continue with the lower carb lifestyle, as I just went on a binge of carbs as soon as I was allowed to eat them again and I never looked back. So lesson learned?

Now it's 2011 and I'm still fighting with this ten pounds and the carb monkey on my back. But I have a secret weapon. It's called...carb reduction. You don't spend as much time online as I do and not find 101 random diseases to diagnose yourself with. Lately I've been reading about insulin resistance and I am going to go out on a limb and just maintain that this is what I've been struggling with. Fatigue, sleepiness after eating (particularly high carb meals) weight gain and inability to lose weight. Yes, in your face OB/GYN who thinks my fatigue is a result of having three kids (and yes, for the fifteenth time, we are not having any more children).

So somewhere between starting this post and today, life intervened and totally shone/shined (you know what I mean) a spotlight on my carb addiction. Easter. I think that's all I have to say. One sweet and innocent day full of brunch and chocolate animals. And oh, hello, 5 pounds are back and I'm binging on cereal again. Isn't the definition of insanity doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result? And when I overdo it I feel so sick. You think I would learn. But no, my brain loves the carbs and my body can't take them. It's like a biological Odd Couple sitcom. But the host ends up dead and no one laughs. That really brought me down. I know what I need to do, I know what actually feels better and I know what is at stake. But I'm stuck in this single child Veruca Salt perpetual tantrum where I don't want to accept that life is not fair and I can't just do whatever the hell I want and continue to get away with it. Yes, I need to grow up and start following the advice I'm more than happy to offer everyone else.

Defying Gravity

Lately I've been really hard on myself about being last in my age group for the Marquee Duathlon. And sure, unknowingly I was competing in the robot 34-39 division (possibly those ladies were androids, so hard to tell), and sure all of the other age categories from 20 to 80 had slower people. But I ran a mile in 10:38. I've never run a mile in 10:38. Why can't I just be happy with knowing I've only really been running steadily for less than a year and I can now, miracle of miracles, talk while running? Why can't I be happy knowing I would have never done anything like this in my teens or twenties or even early thirties?

People have commented on Facebook that I cannot possibly be the same person they knew 20 years ago. After all, I got a D in phys ed. Granted it was mostly due to the fact that we were in the swimming portion of the semester and I refused to swim because I felt they did not give us enough time to get ready after. Backcombing your bangs takes A LOT of time (if you weren't aware). And I'm not the same person. I'm not the person who walked the mile for the Presidents Physical Fitness Test (though I would so totally still get a 0 on the bent arm hang), I'm not the person who started and gave up running a thousand times before, I'm not the person who was convinced they would never run because it was just too hard, I'm not the person who struggled with weight gain and postpartum depression and just kept eating and being inactive, I'm not the person who joined more than a few gyms and had a personal trainer but never lost a considerable amount of weight or gained an appreciable amount of muscle, I'm not the person who slacks off in the back of fitness classes and I will no longer be the person who accepts the limits of my overly cautious reptile brain. OK I'm not going to starve myself to death and run 100 miles. But I will start expecting just a little more.

I've been considering the idea of the next big thing for a while now. I'm not quite ready for the Iron distances (half or full, hell who am I kidding, Olympic even) but I have faith in my ability to complete a marathon. PF Chang's Rock 'n' Roll Arizona Marathon to be exact. And I just signed up for it. January is 9 short months away. It's like I'm growing and birthing a marathon baby!! I just hope it remembers me on Mother's Day.

I have a feeling I will be replaying this song over and over (if not on my iPod then in my head because if "Firework" is any proof, singing to myself really confuses the old cerebral naysayer). And I will possibly have to actually see the musical Wicked but that's another story. For the first time, and I mean literally the first time, I feel like a runner.

Lessons I've Learned The Hard Way #1

It may seem like a no brainer (which is usually good for me on a race morning) but checking your bike gears before the start is a great idea. I fully intended to do this on Sunday but then there was the whole covering Ruby with a mile wide tarp to consider. OK Sunday morning while I was airing up the tires (also another great idea) would have been optimal. But I didn't. And "lucky" for me, I hurriedly took Ruby in on Saturday to have a little tune up and gear adjustment.

Starting out on the bike was hampered by my race belt mishap (stupid bib tore while I was trying to turn it around) so by the time I started pedaling I was already flustered. I went about a mile and thought, "Why do I suck?" (Even more than normal). I looked down and realized, oh, I am in my big chainring. The big chain is great for really speedy flats but it takes more out of your legs. So I was pumping along wondering why my legs felt as if they were pedaling a tricycle. Now I know. At least I didn't fall over when I started pedaling.

So the lesson is: Always Check Your Bike Gears Before A Race.

Marquee Tri, Er Duathlon

Sometimes I get way ahead of myself and sign up for events I intend to train for. Early this year I was all (cracked out) excited about exercise and I signed up for the Marquee Triathlon. The course was a typical sprint (750 meter swim/12.4 mile bike/5K run). As always, the swim is my nemesis. I had grand ideas of actually going for a few open water swims before and of being able to swim 750 meters straight. Then reality set in. And laziness, but that's not really the point. I was just focused on running (and eating) so I decided to flake out. But I never really got around to canceling my registration despite Red Rock's nifty new cancellation policy. And I was increasingly sick to my stomach about losing the registration fee. All of the email reminders didn't help either. And then Saturday morning I had a sign from above (or something like that). I received an email saying the swim was canceled due to the recent rainfall. At that point what excuse did I have? So I hyperventilated a little (lot) and called my friend Sara to ask her advice. She, of course, encouraged me to do it. I also assaulted my husband with my anxiousness and he told me to do it too. Two against one (me).

Luckily the sprint started at 9:00 so I didn't have to wake up at ungodly hour o'clock. I begged my friend Sara to come with me (for emotional support). I had to check my bike Saturday night so at least that was done, though I covered my Ruby with a tarp that would have easily covered the whole bike rack. Lucky I was on a mostly deserted rack. After we arrived and unpacked and were able to find the start I was a little calmer. Not much, but a little. I stood in front of the big START and thought about just walking off. Why was I here again? Can I really run 1.5, ride 12.4 and run 3.1? I kind of devised a race strategy in which I would run like "a bat out of hell" until I finished or collapsed. As we started I was in the back but thanks to the older ladies behind me I didn't have to be last. I finished the first 1.5 in 16:06 (including run in), which is the fastest I've ever done. So go me.

The bike was the big unknown because I have not really been on my bike in...a good long while. I've been riding a little with my daughter but that tops out around 9 mph. So maybe my goal of maintaining 16 mph was a stretch. I really like the bike though and the course was beautiful. During the middle section I decided to ride as fast as my body could and just enjoy the scenery and spectacular day. I ended up finishing in 50:24, which was about 14:76 mph average. And this included my pit stop to fix my stupid race belt. I think it is cursed and I have yet to successfully wear it through an entire race.

Exiting transition for the 5K was extremely difficult. I spent like 3 minutes in transition because I was dragging my feet to delay starting the run. I didn't want to go but my self forced me to. As I exited the safety of transition, and any hope I had of curling up on my towel and taking a nap, I decided to just run as fast or slow as my body allowed but to not walk. I took a Gu at the first water stop and the resultant sugar rush shut my brain up for awhile, as did my constant repetition of, "Baby you're a firework..." I honestly could not think of another song. But thank you Katy Perry. I just kept moving on and I was pleasantly surprised, and quite shocked, to see my pace was an average of about 11:38. For me this is epic. I ended up finishing in 36:05, which is my second fastest 5K.

After I finished I felt like Superwoman. Or She Ra. Or someone really, really awesome. I'm so glad I was talked into it. Then I looked at the race results, where I finished a solid last in my age group. Damn those fast biotches. In ALL of the other age groups I would have had from 3-5 people behind me (and that includes 20-25 year olds). I might as well have been standing still on my runs because those ladies were robots. I mean I really believe they were robots. Who runs a 24 minute 5K in real life, not to mention after a 1.5 mile run and 12.4 mile bike. I will bide my time until I reach the 70-80 year old age group and hopefully they'll all flame out!

Move Your Phi't 5K and PR

Christine and I were foundering/floundering (my ever wise mother says foundering is what horses do when they drink too much water so it was like that but with food). So we decided to sign up for a little 5K that WAS NOT held at Kiwanis park - let us never speak of the Newman Center 10K. We settled on Move Your Phi't. And then we spent several minutes discussing what "phi't" means and how to say it. We finally settled on Move your Feet because Move your Fight makes no sense. We were also unsure about the sponsoring organization. Was it a sorority? Was it a philanthropic group? That little mystery was solved at packet pick up when I was greeted by a table of really perky young blond girls. Yes,it was a sorority. Further evidence came the next day when half the race field was composed of really perky blond/sometimes brunette girls in short shorts. And then the frat brothers started arriving amongst much talk of Red Bull and not sleeping in two days. Perfect. But Christine and I were focused. Laser focused on our 35 minute goal. 35 minutes would be a 3 minute 5K improvement.

This was our first all run (no walk) 5K. We previously ran 2.5 in our goal time so we knew we could do it. The race started a little unceremoniously with no announcement. Everyone just started. We held to our slower 1st mile pace (which is always the easy part for me, forget going out too fast). By the start of the second lap I was starting to really feel the heat. It had been so nice and cool but running had to go and ruin it. Plus the sun was beating down with an almost purposeful meanness. Then the mental race started. I couldn't catch my breath and my brain used the opportunity to try and make me believe I would just fall over. And now that I think about it, my brain probably engineered the whole side stitch thing. But I used my time tested method of calling my brain a "bitch" and insisting the only way I would stop is if I fell down. One day my brain may take me up on that but not today. Christine could hear my choppy breathing and she asked if I was OK. I mumbled something and we kept on. I just kept putting one foot in front of the other. At this point we were at about an 11:08 pace and our goal pace was 11:15. I knew we would make it if we just kept on. Finally I saw the turn for the finish and, who in the hell thought this was a good idea, the hill right before. Christine and I powered up that mug and I threw my elbows so hard that anyone in the near vicinity was in danger of blackened eyes. When we reached the top it was just a short jog down to the finish. As we approached the clock I saw it read, "34:00." Christine and I high fived right there. And then I stopped and so did the spinning of the world. OK it wasn't that bad. But there were numerous unpleasant parts. And 34:00 totally makes up for that. Next stop-30:00!

The definite highlight of this race was meeting The Boring Runner. I originally found his blog through EverymanTri so he's kind of famous (and very recognizable and approachable). He asked if I had a blog and I said I did before I remembered I never update my sad little Internet home. So now I have to. Thanks for that!