Okay, so I am a bit overdue on this one...warning, I get into some tough stuff in this one.
Five and a half weeks to the Manchester Half, and I am feeling pretty good. My long runs have been good, and I PRed in a 5k I ran a week and a half ago. My lungs are good - my legs are strong, but there are still some days they feel like dead weight. But overall, I am feeling good going into this last stretch.
A good part of the difference for me this time has to be due to the "Boot Camp" workout I am doing once a week at Diamond Fit Diva Studio. I get my butt kicked by Ta'mara for an hour every Tuesday, and I usually feel it the rest of the week. Well worth it, though, as I have definitely seen the impact on my running. And a huge "thanks" shout out to my girl, Meg. Knowing she will be there every week helps to keep me going.
So, I am feeling stronger than I ever have, and yet...
Remember when I hinted at a blog about another reason I run? Well, here goes.
Two and a half weeks ago, I had a kind of rough long run. I had eaten too much too close to heading out, and I wanted to throw up. No, really. I wanted to stop running and throw up.
One in five women has struggled with some level of disordered eating according to the latest statistics I could find. One in five is a lot, but if you count people like me, it's probably a lot higher.
I have never been diagnosed with an eating disorder. I have never gone even a day without eating, and I have never made myself vomit. However, I have tried. I have gotten awfully close, and yet, something has always made me stop. Something inside of me says, "This won't work. This won't fix what's bothering you." Somehow in those most desperate moments, something rational in me has jumped in and stopped me. Thank God.
Most of the time I don't feel this way, and I have only gotten to those absolute darkest places maybe five times in my life. But when the feelings come, they always sneak up on me. I will be going along fine, or so I think, and then I will be in a locked in a mortal struggle with the scale. I will fall into a binge of junk food and have a fleeting thought about making myself throw up. Sometimes the thought won't be fleeting. I am grateful I have been able to overcome it, but I recognize that I am not invincible in this area. Many of my friends have dealt with diagnosed eating disorders, some of whom are probably reading this. What has kept me from being one of them? I am not entirely sure, but their strength in the struggle is commendable.
So on that long run where I wanted to throw up, I faced those thoughts head on. I first reminded myself that I absolutely hate puking. Seems obvious, but I had to start small. I kept running. I thought about my friends who had eating disorders; I thought about my students. I kept running. I thought about my girls; I ran harder. I ran away from those thoughts, that dark place. I ran towards strength.
Right now, what is keeping my issues in check is a shift in my focus. I am thinking about being strong. My quads are like rocks at the moment - thanks, to lots of squats and running - and that helps me get past the fact that my thighs still rub together. (Don't even get me started on the cultural obsession with the thigh gap.) As part of a challenge from T'amara, I have not weighed myself in weeks, and while I haven't felt the change in fit of my clothes, I have noticed a change in my endurance. And isn't that what I want, really? Isn't that what I want my daughters to aim for - a faster 5k, not a smaller dress size?
One in five women, probably far more -- far too many. How can I keep my girls from joining those ranks? When I had Clare, I made a promise that she would never hear me say anything negative about my body. No pinching of my tummy roll, no sucking in my gut, no sighing over jiggly arms. No use, ever, of the word "fat" in relation to a feeling or describing how I look. With two daughters now, it's twice as important. We talk about eating healthy foods and being strong. And I try to remember all the awesome things my body has done and continues to do. It can run, it can dance - it has safely carried and delivered my darling babies. How dare I think it anything less than amazing? And in a few weeks it will amaze me again as it plods 13.1 hilly miles. It really is one awesome body after all.
Note: I have been very open with my issues with Dan from the beginning, and I have also discussed them with a counselor. If you are struggling with an eating disorder or know someone who might be, please seek help from a professional.
Wednesday, September 24, 2014
Thursday, September 11, 2014
Time to Find Time
A friend asked me how I find time and energy to run/train and how I stay motivated. Honestly, I have been able to adjust some things in my life that free me in ways that others might not be able to. Still, I hope something here will help.
I read once that when you say you can't do something it almost always means you don't want to badly enough. I remember that pissed me off initially. "There are things I just can't do!" I thought. But the more I considered it, the more this really did seem true. And being honest about it only helped me realize what I really did want badly enough.
After my oldest was born, I finished the school year and then went back in the fall full time. The hope had been that Dan would get a job as an assistant principal that year, and I would go part time. It didn't work out that way, and I spent a year struggling with feelings of inadequacy as a teacher, mother, and wife. Somewhere in there I also decided to try running. I ran one evening after getting home with the baby. Dan made dinner and sent me on my way. I came back sobbing after only going about a block. I wanted to be home with them, not running. It was not that I couldn't run; I just didn't want it badly enough. And that was okay. I focused I surviving the year and let running go.
A year later Dan landed a job as an AP, and I cut down my hours. It was amazing - everything I needed to feel like I was not just surviving but thriving. And I was ready to run again. I could find time without feeling like I was stealing it from someone else. I ran until I got pregnant again, and it was a year and a half after my youngest was born that I felt ready to lace up the sneakers again. So, my first suggestion would be an honest assessment as to whether or not this is something you want right now. No judgment either way - just honesty.
When I decide I am ready, finding time can be tricky. I have gotten very creative with sneaking in runs, and I have let go of completing a perfect training schedule. My midweek runs rarely are the recommended mileage, but I always make sure to complete the long runs. For shorter runs during the week I work with my mom (my childcare) and Dan to see when I can get them in. Sometimes I go right after work, and I am exhausted - those runs can be pretty terrible, so I try to cut myself a little slack. A crappy run is better than no run. Other times Dan gets dinner duty and I run around supper time. This is not my favorite since it can mean I miss eating with them. I have headed out to the gym at 8:00 or 9:00 to pound out some time on the treadmill, and as a last resort, we have a beat up treadmill that gets me by when needed.
Long runs can be trickier, but again, creativity is key. I have brought clothes to church, changed after Mass, and run home. I have run from my in-laws to the hotel we were staying at in a blizzard. Map My Run is awesome for plotting out courses. The biggest piece here is Dan's support. Since I am pretty slow, my long runs can take a chunk out of a weekend day. He gives me this time and never lets me feel bad about it.
Staying motivated is a whole other entry, and if I am brave enough, I will be really honest about some stuff that surrounds my motivation. However, I will say that letting go of perfection and just embracing my humble running offering has really turned it from something I had to do to something I want to. In all the races I ever run, I will very likely never win a prize, but I will finish - if I want to badly enough.
I read once that when you say you can't do something it almost always means you don't want to badly enough. I remember that pissed me off initially. "There are things I just can't do!" I thought. But the more I considered it, the more this really did seem true. And being honest about it only helped me realize what I really did want badly enough.
After my oldest was born, I finished the school year and then went back in the fall full time. The hope had been that Dan would get a job as an assistant principal that year, and I would go part time. It didn't work out that way, and I spent a year struggling with feelings of inadequacy as a teacher, mother, and wife. Somewhere in there I also decided to try running. I ran one evening after getting home with the baby. Dan made dinner and sent me on my way. I came back sobbing after only going about a block. I wanted to be home with them, not running. It was not that I couldn't run; I just didn't want it badly enough. And that was okay. I focused I surviving the year and let running go.
A year later Dan landed a job as an AP, and I cut down my hours. It was amazing - everything I needed to feel like I was not just surviving but thriving. And I was ready to run again. I could find time without feeling like I was stealing it from someone else. I ran until I got pregnant again, and it was a year and a half after my youngest was born that I felt ready to lace up the sneakers again. So, my first suggestion would be an honest assessment as to whether or not this is something you want right now. No judgment either way - just honesty.
When I decide I am ready, finding time can be tricky. I have gotten very creative with sneaking in runs, and I have let go of completing a perfect training schedule. My midweek runs rarely are the recommended mileage, but I always make sure to complete the long runs. For shorter runs during the week I work with my mom (my childcare) and Dan to see when I can get them in. Sometimes I go right after work, and I am exhausted - those runs can be pretty terrible, so I try to cut myself a little slack. A crappy run is better than no run. Other times Dan gets dinner duty and I run around supper time. This is not my favorite since it can mean I miss eating with them. I have headed out to the gym at 8:00 or 9:00 to pound out some time on the treadmill, and as a last resort, we have a beat up treadmill that gets me by when needed.
Long runs can be trickier, but again, creativity is key. I have brought clothes to church, changed after Mass, and run home. I have run from my in-laws to the hotel we were staying at in a blizzard. Map My Run is awesome for plotting out courses. The biggest piece here is Dan's support. Since I am pretty slow, my long runs can take a chunk out of a weekend day. He gives me this time and never lets me feel bad about it.
Staying motivated is a whole other entry, and if I am brave enough, I will be really honest about some stuff that surrounds my motivation. However, I will say that letting go of perfection and just embracing my humble running offering has really turned it from something I had to do to something I want to. In all the races I ever run, I will very likely never win a prize, but I will finish - if I want to badly enough.
Wednesday, September 3, 2014
Lucky Mother Runner
I did 5 miles on Saturday. This shouldn't be a remarkable statement this close to the half, but I was pleasantly surprised by how it didn't totally suck. And I enjoyed it. Really. I had forgotten how nice long runs can be.
When I did my first half in 2011, a huge part of my motivation was being healthy and strong for my daughter Clare. Now I have two girls, and being an example of determination and fitness has become twice as important. When I headed out on my runs three years ago, Clare would say, "Run, momma, run, run!" It became a bit of a mantra for me, and running for them is what often gets me out the door. Actually, sometime running from them is what gets me out the door.
That sounds heartless unless you can relate to the fact that the only "alone time" I get on most days is my time in the bathroom. And even that is all too often interrupted. When Dan is home, I take showers that last for days because even if I hear a whine, it's his problem to figure out. When I am home with the girls by myself, all bathroom activity is conducted with the door open so I can detect an impending emergency quickly. Not exactly relaxation at its finest.
Becoming a mother changed absolutely everything about me even if imperceptibly to others. And it definitely has changed running. I credit my girls with the hip issues I deal with from time. And there is no better test of postpartum urinary continence than being two miles into a treadmill run and having to pee. Can I hold it? Do I really have to stop the treadmill to go to the bathroom? I can hold it, right?
Honestly, I adore my girls. Completely. I carry their smiles with me when I run, sometimes literally. I will have a picture of them with me when I run Manchester just like I had a picture of Clare when I ran Disney. If I want to quit, they won't let me. And it will be knowing they are waiting at the finish line that will help get me there. I am one lucky mother runner.
When I did my first half in 2011, a huge part of my motivation was being healthy and strong for my daughter Clare. Now I have two girls, and being an example of determination and fitness has become twice as important. When I headed out on my runs three years ago, Clare would say, "Run, momma, run, run!" It became a bit of a mantra for me, and running for them is what often gets me out the door. Actually, sometime running from them is what gets me out the door.
That sounds heartless unless you can relate to the fact that the only "alone time" I get on most days is my time in the bathroom. And even that is all too often interrupted. When Dan is home, I take showers that last for days because even if I hear a whine, it's his problem to figure out. When I am home with the girls by myself, all bathroom activity is conducted with the door open so I can detect an impending emergency quickly. Not exactly relaxation at its finest.
Becoming a mother changed absolutely everything about me even if imperceptibly to others. And it definitely has changed running. I credit my girls with the hip issues I deal with from time. And there is no better test of postpartum urinary continence than being two miles into a treadmill run and having to pee. Can I hold it? Do I really have to stop the treadmill to go to the bathroom? I can hold it, right?
Honestly, I adore my girls. Completely. I carry their smiles with me when I run, sometimes literally. I will have a picture of them with me when I run Manchester just like I had a picture of Clare when I ran Disney. If I want to quit, they won't let me. And it will be knowing they are waiting at the finish line that will help get me there. I am one lucky mother runner.
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