Monday, June 30, 2008

Calorie Nazi Status Report

My weight shot up again. This is how I gain weight - it's never a gradual thing where I can notice and think 'hmm, need to start cutting back.' It's generally a 'holy shit, I gained 5 pounds in 3 days..." and then it's just THERE. Forever. It's not like 'oh, I bloated for 3 days' and then goes away. Back before I was medicated, I could easily gain 20 pounds in a month, and that was with diet and exercise. Fucking thyroid.

All the sudden I'm realizing that puts me at +11 since the low after I had the baby. I'm done fucking around. I don't care how fucking much he screams while I take the 30 seconds to record the 2 bites I had a chance to fucking eat, I'm taking the time for myself and getting back on the wagon. I don't care how much he squirms and fusses in the stroller, I'm going for a fucking walk once in a while again.

He's is a bad place right now, I get that. Teething must hurt like hell, and he's clingy to begin with. But he hasn't given me 2 seconds to myself in weeks and we're coming up on a month now that I haven't worked out. It's not acceptable and it's very quickly reaching the point where I'm not going to be a good mom for him. I'm usually an extremely patient person, but right now my fuse is so short I've been forced to put him down and leave the room so I didn't scream back at him.

I need my exercise. It makes me a happier, healthier, more even-tempered person. This has been nagging at me for a while now, and this morning, when I saw the scale, it was the last straw. I HAVE to start taking care of me again or I won't be able to take very good care of him.

So. This morning he screamed while I restarted the diet software. He screamed while I listened to its lectures about how I haven't logged any food in 68 days and right now to meet my previously set goal I'd have to eat -186 calories a day, which is "absurd." Yes, it used that word. He screamed while I reset the goals for a fresh start.

Then he screamed while I got him dressed to go for a stroller run. Then he screamed while I got me dressed for a stroller run. Then he screamed when I had to put him down and clean up all the pee and give the visiting puppy (yet another fucking) bath because apparently "house trained" means something different to her owner than it does to us. Then he screamed and threw up while I took the phone call from the puppy's owner (who was supposed to be on the way to pick her up) because she fell getting out of the shower and is going to the emergency room for a dislocated knee.

By then it was too late to go for the run because it had been too long since he ate. So I took off the running bra (wrenching the crap out of my bad wrist in the process, painfully enough to make me cry), fed him and he promptly fell asleep (something he NEVER does any more). I put him down and rushed into the kitchen, starving... I barely had time to grab a healthy snack, report it to The Calorie Nazi and record the new Weight Watchers mango & black bean salsa recipe I'll be snacking on this week before he woke up.

Now he's screaming because he's been awake for more than 6 seconds and I failed to pick him up in time.

I NEED a good fucking workout to take the edge off this insanity. I might have to use myprecious babysitter time today for that, even though it was supposed to be for an overdue client project. I can't keep going on like this.

(He just threw up all over my workout gear. I don't know whether to laugh or cry.)

Thursday, June 26, 2008

Life is Good

After a little moping I decided it was time to get past missing my race on Sunday, and get on with enjoying the summer as much as I can whether it's with or without races. I don't know what's going to happen with my injuries, and it's not going to do me any good wasting the great weather stressing over something I can't control.

So with that in mind, last night I sat out on my shiny new patio...

Watching this amazing sunset...

And laughing as Kona and Abby (chocolate lab pup on right, visiting for the week) played themselves into exhaustion.

Good times.

Sunday, June 22, 2008

I Only Cried a Little

The sprint I couldn't do was today.

I ran two miles yesterday (to remind my body what it's all about after 3 weeks off) with plans to try for 5 today.

Instead of running, I helped my 7 month pregnant best friend move today. Not ideal, but definitely worth losing the workout to keep her from over-exerting herself. (Her husband was busy replacing all the plumbing in the new house.)

I cried about the race on Saturday morning, right about the time I realized I should have been packing the van for the trip. Then I tried really hard not to think about it, and largely succeeded.

Injury status = DNS was the right call.

Thursday, June 19, 2008

7 Months

In lieu of anything remotely positive to report about my practically non-existent training, I thought I'd put up some gratuitous cuteness in honor of Baby Bear turning 7 months today!

He may not be the kind of mellow baby that lets me get in workouts while he naps or sightsees from a stroller. But every day with him more or less feels like one looooong training session, complete with cardio and weight training intervals. So I figure he's doing what he can to keep me fit while we make our way through this challenging phase.

Monday, June 16, 2008

Decisions, Decisions

Far too late yesterday, I realized we'd puttered away the day doing things like 6 loads of laundry, installing a ceiling fan in Baby Bear's room (interrupted by 20 minutes of looking for ceiling paint when we realized the previous light fixture is permanently outlined from prior painting laziness), then taking Baby Bear for a float in the pool....

Point is, I didn't get in my run. Which would have been, *ahem*, my first workout in 2 weeks.

Between the BF's wedding, a big client project and just generally hoping some of these injuries would heal, I took a little time off even though I'm frighteningly behind in my training plan.

So, today the big plan was to get in a run (preferably 5 miles, but I'd have taken anything). I had a bit of an upset tummy so decided running outside wasn't the smartest. The back-up plan was to try to get The Incredible Non-Napping Baby to take a nap, and get in what I could on the treadmill.

Problem is, the time it takes to get him to nap (if it's even possible) is often more time than he actually naps. That, and a ridiculous amount of effort (including playing very actively for hours to tire him out).

So, we're nursing and rocking ad nauseum and he fiiiiinally started to hint that he might fall asleep ... unfortunately, I was beating him to it.

Then I had a choice. Do I give in to what was, frankly, overwhelming exhaustion and nap with him? Or do I suck it up and run because he naps about as often as I win the lottery?

I napped.

I know. I suck.

But at least I feel better. (And at least I'll be alert for tonight's business meeting in which I'm supposed to lead a panel discussion.)

Friday, June 13, 2008

Well, This is Fun

It's 1 am. We're huddled in the basement with 3 angry cats in crates, 2 confused dogs and a wide awake, confused baby who's starting to cry. What fun.

At least McHenry's tornado sirens went off BEFORE the tornado this time. (Four years ago they went off several minutes after it had already hit my neighborhood.)

Various weather channels report it just barely to the west of us, heading east/northeast. We're still on the leading edge of the ginormous storm that spawned it. All we've seen so far, aside from the sirens, is a little lightning and some rain (apparently we have hail and 70+mph winds in store).

Just two days ago I printed out one of those "make an emergency kit" checklists and figured I'd make it my summer project, because in the last 2 weeks we've seen more tornadoes in this area than I've seen total in the last 13 years since I moved here.

Some of my friends thought I was being silly and paranoid. Right about now I'm wishing I'd been more paranoid and worked on it sooner, because running around in a barefoot just-woken-up panic clutching a baby in one hand and rummaging for a half-dead flashlight with another is not my idea of a good time.

It's 2:30. The tornado missed us and it remains to be seen what happened, but according to it passed by much too close for comfort. WH finally talked me into going back upstairs to bed, but I couldn't bear to put the baby back alone in his room and I can't fall asleep. Every little rumble of thunder and gust of wind sends my heart rate soaring.

Sunday, June 08, 2008

Earning Our Road Rights

We recently become hooked on the hilarious BBC show Top Gear.

I could generally give a rat's ass about cars, so it was a major surprise that I found this show remotely appealing. But it's Pythonesque and I routinely laugh my ass off... so if in doubt, give it a shot (you can find it on BBC America).

To illustrate ... one laugh from this morning, as they prepared to race a couple of beaters across Botswana (yes, THAT Botswana), noting that one of them has cardboard taped over the battery because it "shorts on the bonnet," and "the breaks are terrible, they only work on that one wheel...." one host pointed out, regarding the rough terrain of central Africa, "The people of Surrey think they need 4 wheel drive cars because they live on a lane that sometimes has leaves on it."

Point is... this morning we were watching the guys race across London to see who could get to the airport first. One was driving a car, one was riding a bike and one was piloting a boat down the Thames.

Dudes. The bike WON.

It was priceless.

(Just as I was posting this, I heard one host say... "My car's on fire, but in a very specific place.")

Friday, June 06, 2008

Rolling Over

My sprint is in two weeks, and I thought I was going to be ok(ish)...

- my knee is back to normal
- my wrist is still stupidly painful, but surprisingly allows me to ride my bike
- my left foot had been almost back to normal

Note the past tense regarding the plantar fasciitis.

Got up last night to feed Baby Bear and discovered the sharp pain and limping had returned. Was too upset to sleep, so thought long and hard about what to do.

PT Chris has been saying for weeks I shouldn't do the race because it's too risky with all the half-healed injuries. Around 3:30 this morning, I finally accepted she's right.

So, I'm applying for a medical rollover for my triathlon.

Part of me is sad - it will be the first time in 4 years I haven't done this race, and worst of all, it means I don't get a triathlon this year.

But my overwhelming emotion is relief, so I guess I'm doing the right thing.

I'm giving myself more time to heal, and more time focus on a reasonable plan for finishing my goal race in August.

But I'm still reeaaaaally bummed.

Sunday, June 01, 2008

Epiphanies, Plans and Little Piggies

I ran 4 miles today.

Farthest ever. I suppose I should admit I had a couple of walk breaks, but in a good, (mostly) planned way, so I'm not ashamed.

See, I had an epiphany.

I have accepted that I will need walk breaks to make it through the half marathon. I was just trying to figure out how to do it without making myself crazy with beeping watches and walking in seemingly random spots. (I think I might be too OCD to do like a run 10 walk 2, because I simply can't bring myself to do it. It's not tied to mileage, and for whatever reason my hardwired little brain can't deal with that.)

Anyhoo. I was sayin.

I had an epiphany that turned into a plan. I was going to walk the aid stations anyway... so I'll make my 2 minute walk breaks start at each aid station!

(I realize many of you are now saying "um, yeah. DUH." You'll have to forgive me, my mind has been otherwise occupied of late.)

The obvious flaw in my plan, of course, is if there are not aid stations at each mile. But that's ok, because I plan to carry my own bottle of Nuun and there will surely be mile markers.

Oh, and it does seem to be true... if I can force myself to keep running past the half hour mark, it seems to numb the suckage and things get a bit easier.

Today's 4 miles (with walk breaks, which obviously increased towards the end) took about an hour (mile 1: 14:30, mile 2: 13:48, mile 3: 15:27, mile 4: 16:36). So, worst case, I figure I can do the half in about 3:15... sucky, yes.... but I'll take it.

Regarding the numbed suckage... even though I had to walk a bit more in that last mile, when I hit my driveway I didn't actually need to stop. That's HUGE for me. I could have run a bit more, but am trying to reign in the mileage increases and not get hurt more, plus my 'this little piggy had none' toe got another squishy blister that needed attention.

Do you have any idea how cool it is that the reason I stopped running was that my squishy blister was grossing me out, and NOT because I my heart was going to, ya know, burst out of my chest?