My irrational fear of sculpt. Visited.

So tonight, after work, I was finally peer pressured into facing my irrational fear of sculpt head-on. I know what you're thinking. What is so scary about sculpt? And to be honest, I'm not entirely sure. What I do know is that I have heard so many horror stories, and while I am an active person, I am so very afraid of living one of those horror stories firsthand.

Sure, I run and crossfit on a regular basis. I dabble in yoga and barre. But sculpt, the masochistic combination of flow and weights and cardio and dance all jam-packed into one sixty-minute class, makes me stomach churn.

But as I will try (almost) anything once, I committed to go. I tried to back out. I packed three outfits. I nervously peed ever ten minutes. I had sweaty armpits. I felt barfy. But I went.

before

The studio was like 900 degrees. And crowded. And I was surrounded by my coworkers, all who sculpt on the regular. I was terrified. 

the 5lb weights were merely for show

Jessie, who I can only describe as a masochistic, dancing machine, super hottie, took us through 60 of the brutal-est yoga-esque minutes in my life. Fast feet. High knees. KICK KICK KICK. Crescent...deeper, deeper, deeper....HOLD. Chatarunga. Repeat. Push up. Plank. Mountain Climbers. FASTER. Slower. Hold. FML.  My muscles cried, my coordination was tested, I desperately tried to breathe and keep up. It was like a cracked out dance party with weights. And somehow, she made it look good. Real good.

#hotmess

The thing of it is, I feel like I am dying during these types of classes. My breathe is short, my shoulders hurt, my quads quiver, and I generally feel miserable. But somehow, the day after, I'm never sore (at least not from barre). In the moment, I cannot push through. I cannot seem to hold things quite deep enough for quite long enough, and I bail on the weights from time to time. I know...get comfortable with being uncomfortable. I get it, but cannot seem to do it.

#thesweatlife

Did I barf? Nope. Would I go back? Maybe. Will this be my sweat of choice? No. 

A year ago today

A year ago today we put the final odds and ends into the moving truck and said goodbye to our lives in Madison. 

I remember all too well saying goodbye to my bestfriend and crying for the first hour of the drive. I remember feeling ready to leave Madison, but not feeling like Minneapolis was the right move. I remember wishing we could turn around and cancel the entire move. I remember people telling me how many amazing opportunities there would be for me in Minneapolis, and how great the city is. I remember the relief of knowing that we would never have to see our terrible realtor after closing. 

I wish I could say that so far this adventure has been amazing, but it hasn't. I'm still looking for the right job, I'm still getting lost everywhere I go, I'm still trying to make friends, I'm still trying to accept the fact that this is my home.

Yes, there are things I like about Minneapolis. Taking the lightrail downtown. Running to the Minnehaha Falls. Sushi at Wakame. Tangletown Crossfit. But I would not hesitate for a minute to pack it all up and move.

Maybe someday this city will feel like home, but it doesn't yet. 

Can't a girl get a break?

As if totaling my beloved Subie and living with chronic, explosive, facial pain wasn't bad enough, everything else seems to be conspiring against me as well.

Insurance took so long sorting out the value and issuing a check, that actually finding a new car is becoming near impossible. I'm now on a waiting list, fingers and toes crossed, that the car I want is available by the end of the year.

Meanwhile, my boss is laying an egg over the fact that I don't have a car yet. Oh. And he is less than pleased that I didn't go with his suggestion. Because apparently a Volvo wagon is the only acceptable job with which one can do the job.

I'm trying to dig deep and get through these last few weeks of 2013...

Running & Other Such Shenanigans

I may or may not be the worst blogger ever these days. But it happens. Life happens. We all move on.


Over the past few weeks I've been trying to figure out how to get my mojo back--it's been MIA since April. And the wicked hot and dry summer we're having this year is not helping matters. Wah.

The artistic stylings of Jay Roeder.

First thing first, I found a coach. I am now working with a longtime acquaintance, Chris, on planning out my training and racing schedule for the rest of 2012.  I gotta say, this guys got street cred-- TNT coach, multiple Ironman races under his belt, 70.3's, ultra marathons (including finishing the Rocky Racoon 100 in like 18hrs and change), just to name a few. Oh, and he's an all around cool guy.  So far I think his training plans are out to KILL me which is why I taking them more as suggestions than gospel.  I think we're in the early stages of our 'relationship' and that we'll sort things out. But in the meantime, it is so nice to have someone to bounce ideas off of and to tell me when I need to HTFU and get on with it.


One of the things he and I were both on the same wavelength about was adding some trail running to the mix. Something fun, different, and a little lower impact on my poor, beat up body.  Enter the amazing Marty.  I know Marty mainly through the Twitter and mutual friends, but I can tell you he is one of the nicest guys around. Not only does he love running and trails and staying active, but he loves sharing his passion with anyone, of any ability, any time. We had been trying to rendez-vous at Lapham Peak for some time to learn me to trail run. We finally made that happen last weekend.  I let Marty and a few other FitMKE peeps out there in the heat and sunshine for ~4m loop.  The first loop was the 'faster' group...which I TOTALLY sandbagged, but amazingly enough, no one seemed to mind!  We chatted, Marty gave an excellent tour and tips, and we had fun.  I should have called it a day there, but I let Marty talk me into ANOTHER loop with the 'slower' group.  And off we went. Again.  And while I was getting tired, I stuck it out and had a BLAST. I drove home, smelling NASTY, singing along with Carly Rae (on repeat) at the top of my lungs. All and all, a great little field trip.

Go ahead, click on it and laugh.

And since, you know, I've gong trail running all of ONE time, I let myself be talked into running Dance with Dirt this weekend. I blame Krista. Let's be honest though, I am only doing the 10k...but I've heard it's a doozy of  run.  Oh and and it's going to be toasty out there tomorrow. AND DID I MENTION THE 10k RUNS UP A SKI HILL? Because it does. Twice. But what goes up must come down, right? 


After I'm done hauling my ass up and down a ski hill, coachie wants me to tack on another couple miles for training purposes or something.  By the time I finish my 10 or so trail miles for the day, assuming I can still walk, the plan is to scoot over to Devil's Lake to cool off in the lake a bit and shower before heading back to cheer for my hardcore friends doing the 50k.  Fun in the sun my friends. Fun. In. The. Sun.


It would be arguably way MORE fun if I wasn't fighting off the plague and it wasn't 9000 degrees out, but those details are neither here nor there.

More Jay Roeder because I'm OBSESSED

What's totally cray-cray about the situation is that this is just a training weekend.  Just like next week, Rock 'n Roll Chicago, is just a training weekend.  Me and 10,000+ of my closest friends will be sweating it out on the streets of the Windy City, just training, having some fun. And even more off the reservation is that between the weekend and next coachie will jam pack my week with bricks, and crosstraining, and long runs and fartleks. 


Speaking of crosstraining, who here has tried Aqua Zumba? 'Cause I'm here to tell you, you haven't lived until you've gone to Aqua Zumba.  This discovery of mine was a happy accident, but since I'm in a sharing mood I thought I'd go ahead and pass on the awesome. You're welcome. So Aqua Zumba, yeah. I begrudgingly headed to the YMCA the other night to swim some laps, but was pleasantly surprised to find the laps removed and the blue-hairs taking over the pool. Let me tell you, these grannies meant business. Headbands on, water aerobics gloves on, game faces ON.  And then we Zumba'd. In the water. I have not smiled so big or laughed so hard in a REALLY long time. I was shaking my money makers and gyrating my hips, kicking my legs and clapping my hands, all in the safety of chest deep water because I am fairly certain I would have hurt myself on dry land. Oh, and the water hid the fact that I have ZERO coordination or rhythm.  I will be going back every chance I get.  


Did I mention that somehow I was talked in to running the Disney Marathon this January? Two of my Ragnar ladies from last year, Nesa and Kim, have decided to run Goofy this year. Seeing as it's the 20th anniversary of the WDW Marathon, and I love me some Disney, I was easily convinced to cross the Disney Marathon off my bucket list. That is assuming that I make it to marathon day and that it goes better than CMM. Details...  That's coachie's job, right?  


Assuming I survive tomorrow, I'm sure I'll have some epic stories to tell about my first ever trail race. Eek!!

One more Jay Roeder for the road!

Race Report: Country Music Marathon

AKA Marathon FAIL
AKA Worst Run of My Life

The short of it: That sucked balls.

The long of it: Ugh, that really sucked balls. Seriously. Awful. Splat. I died.

My marathon training started well. I was making my long runs, I was doing my midweek runs. I was picking up speed and gaining confidence. Then RnR NOLA happened...and didn't go as planned. I trained for a 2:15. I ran nearly a 2:30, 2:20-something if you exclude porta-pottie time. I was pissed. I was discouraged. I WAS LAZY.

Yes, I admit it. I got lazy. I started a new job. I made excuses. I got sick (legitimately). And mainly I pouted about blowing a perfect PR opportunity.

Fast forward to early April when I realized I didn't log the mileage I needed to make it to race day. Shit. Oh well, looks like I'd have to run my first full some other time. I decided bir to stress and just be excited about hanging our in Nashville with a friend I don't see very often and just have fun. What's that? She didn't show? AGAIN? That's a different post entirely. But I digress.

Fast forward to race day. After an outfit meltdown and an I-don't-wanna-run tantrum, we did in fact make it to the start line. Shocking, I know. Seeing as I had averaged one run a week in the 3 weeks prior I knew this was going to be a struggle, but doable...

I had heard the course was hilly, but was NOT PREPARED for what was ahead of us. The first two miles ticked by uneventfully in the mid-10's. Then we turned the corner. And hit the first of many long, slow, tortuous climbs. And by mile 2.5 I was walking. That is never a good sign.

And then it got hot. And sunny. And I wanted to die. I made a decision, somewhere between mile 6 and 7, that I was going to embrace the slowest, longest, most miserable 13.1 miles if my life and make the most of it. I took pictures. I complained less than I wanted to. I walked the aid stations, and most hills, and just kept putting one foot in front of the other. At least I showed up, AM I RIGHT?!?

I still don't know my official time, but I expect it to be in the 2:50's. Embarrassing and uncharacteristic, but I am proud to say I hung in there.

What's next? I don't know. I really want a re-do. I also really want a break. And to lose 20lbs, but we don't always get what we want...

Roadblock aka My Bad Attitude

Yeah, that pretty much sums up how I feel.

If it was a flaming, shit-covered, profanity spewing roadblock it would be exactly how I feel. But those are hard to come by.

I feel like my life is stuck in a vicious cycle of two steps forward, one step. Wash, rinse, repeat. Every time something goes right BAM! six other things will go incredibly, frustratingly wrong. I can't name names or give details, though goodness knows I so desperately want to. I also one to punch enough people to probably get my ass thrown in jail, but I am an adult so instead I give scathingly dirty looks, delete emails and pretend to not hear them when they speak (very mature). But anyone who's come within a 5ft radius of me can feel the radiating hostility and frustration. And probably has seen me cry. Whatev.

What in the WORLD does this have to do with running? Or marathon training? Or, well, anything?

Wellllll, every well-meaning soul out there is advising me to get out and run. You'll feel better! Well I call bullshit. There I said it. BULLSHIT. Going for a little run never solved world peace, gave food to the starving children in Africa or anything else. Now granted, neither does wallowing in my self pity and anger, but let's not split hairs.

When life hands me a lemon I want to know where the vodka tonic is to put it in. And then I want some Gushers to put in this vodka tonic with the lemon (trust me, it's fabulous). Cocktail in hand I want to pour myself onto the couch and watch hours of mindless bad tv. Sometimes, like last night, the shitstorm and stress of life makes me want to clean. While drinking vodka, obviously.

Monday was a rest day, so drowning my sorrows in beer and bleu cheese was totally ok. Last night, however, was speedwork. I didn't even pretend I was going to go to the gym for a run. And AM Shreddin' hasn't happened yet this week. Nope, no way no day. The alarm may go off, which doesn't really matter because I'm not sleeping at night anyways, but my ever expanding ass doesn't budge from bed for at least another hour.

Tonight I may or may not make it to my 6m run. I'd like to say I will, but who the knows with the way today is going.

I'm watching my bad attitude and this current suckfest called life come between my goals like one giant never ending detour. I want to PR my upcoming half marathon. I want to finish my first marathon. I want to be tone and lean and lose those pesky lb's.

Just not more than I want a vodka tonic and bad reality tv.

Three Things Thursday: It's Haaaard

1. Marathon Training

I knew training for my first marathon wasn't going to be easy, but this shit is no joke. per multiple recommendations I am following a plan from www.halhiggdon.com. I decided to go with is Novice 1 plan for beginners because it should be the easiest, right? WRONG. I started the 18wk training plan with some base, but not where I would've liked to. What can I say other than 3wks in Thailand will do that to you. My runs vary from awful to amazing, and everything in between. The speed is coming back (on the short runs) and the distance is building, but it's so haaaaaaard. Especially the Wednesday runs. Mid-distance runs sandwiched between two short runs should be a piece of cake. But it's not. I know it's building endurance and whatever, but every Wednesday I toy with the idea of taking a rest day.

2. #30DayShred

I knew from Biggest Loser that Jillian Michaels is one bad ass chick. I also knew from Twitter that the #30DayShred DVD was no joke. Jillian is determined to make you sweat, grunt, and suffer for every lest minute of the workout. Rumor has it the ladies of Twitter are liking the results, even those Shreddin' for only a week. THAT was enough to coax my butt out of bed at 5:30am and jump on the bandwagon. It's just another workout DVD how bad can it be. HA! The difference is that this one is haaaaard. After 20 minutes I am a hot sweaty mess, with quivery arms and achey legs. After 3 successful days of AM Shreddin' I have decided that I am NOT ready to commit to the full 30 day challenge. Call me a sally, but that's just too hard. Especially when combined with marathon training. Pffft, no friggin way.

So instead I have devised the following training to maximize the Shreddin', survive the runnin', and even do a little restin'.

With only 3 days of Level 1 under my belt I can't say I've seen any results. But I feel like I am getting a solid all around workout, it's all hard and shit, so there's that. But I swear to blog, if this shit doesn't work, I will personally be hunting down Jillian Michaels and force-feeding her doughnuts. Or writing her a strongly worded letter. One or the other.

3. Losing weight is haaaard!

I have been trying to shed the same annoying 12-15lbs for oh, over a year now. True, the ultimate goal is more like 25-30lbs, but let's not get crazy here. I just really want to be back to where I was back in 2010, pre-surgeries. Let's be honest, I am obviously not trying all that hard, because if I was, those pesky lbs would be gone. But since being home from Thailand I've been trying to make better food decisions, watch my portions, and exercise. So far? Nada.

source

I share an office with three very weight focused coworkers. One is your typical type-A triathlete who believes that foods only purpose is to deliver the needed nutrients, and nothing more. He may consume little more than coffee, a bag of (undressed) lettuce, and a sweet potato during the day, but he is the picture of health. Maybe a tad too skinny for my liking, and the ultimate lightweight, but he is slim and trim and FAST. He has been advising another coworker on how to slim down as she was struggling to shed the wanted lb's with exercise alone. He has her following a strict 30-day raw diet. The the first 2wks she was down 7lbs, by week 3 she had lost 10lbs. Obviously there is something to it...but is it sustainable? My third office mate is a calorie counter. She is more liberal in what she eats, but counts every single calorie.

These three, clearly dedicated, coworkers of mine make me feel bad about myself daily. I am embarrassed to eat at work. I am always hungry. And while you might think this would help my cause, it actually just results in binge-eating when I get home. It also means that my post-work, pre-binge runs, are done with very little in the tank which is likely why they have felt so awful lately.

I have another friend who went strict paleo recently. In one week she dropped 7lbs. AMAZING! She also works her tail off at Crossfit, running, yoga, and who knows what else. But the paleo diet seemed to be what kicked her weight loss into hi-gear. I know that she see's it as a looong way to go yet, but I think she looks amazing!

The problem I have with all of these restrictive diets, paleo, raw, etc., is that they just don't seem sustainable. It seems like the sort of thing I could do for a few weeks to jump start my weight loss, but what then? As soon as you incorporate foods back into your diet I can only assume the lb's come back. And quickly at that! I've been told that the first few weeks are the hardest and the cravings subside, but it just doesn't seem like the right fit.

Ughhhh, it's just so hard!! I'm hoping that the #30DayShred, combined with my marathon training, combined with moderation and better food choices, will lead to maintainable weight loss.

But in the meantime I am going to whine about how everything it really REALLY really hard today.

November 1st

Not to state the obvious here, but today is November 1st. November is busy month in my world. Many, many birthdays (including my own!), Thanksgiving, the Saris Gala, an abundance of loose ends to tie up at work...before our trip to Thailand, typically the first snowfall, and so on.

But what November 1st signifies to me this year, on this day, is the start of my pre-training plan training.

It's no secret that my fitness level is way, way down. It's actually been on the decline since July 2009. As of late though it's taken a even bigger hit. I can probably count on one hand how many runs I've taken in the past two months, all of which have been miserable might I add. Starting a training plan 3 weeks prior to leaving the country for almost 3 weeks seems silly, but to wait until after our trip is like putting all of eggs in the proverbial basket. Instead, I had hoped to start ramping up my fitness level over the next few weeks so that it won't be as much of a shock to the system when we get home. In December.

But instead, I am coughing, and sneezing and sniffling here at my desk. I am eating some questionable Chinese takeout, the spiciest item on the menu just hoping to be able to taste something, and staring out the window. Staring at the 60 degree day. Staring at the sunshine. Staring at my coworkers coming and going from the lunchtime runs and rides. I ambitiously packed my running gear just in case I felt up to a lunchtime run...but it never made it out of my car.

So here it is, November 1st, the start of my training, the month I turn 30....and here I sit.

On a whim...

...I signed up for Rock and Roll New Orleans. The half marathon to be specific because I haven't completely lost my mind. I blame the coupon. The amazing deep discount that RnR offered for 1 day only. The kind of discount they never offer. I was seduced by their discount.

What have I gotten myself into?!?

Now this isn't to say that I haven't run a half marathon before. Because I have. But I haven't run any significant distance since June 2009. And my training, and dedication to a training plan, has been impulsive and inconsistent at best. As I right this I should be running, but I'm not. I know part of me was hoping that signing up for a race, giving my self a goal and a timeline, would motivate me. But so far, nada.

It was pretty fabulous to watch all the people on Twitter realizing that we ALL took advantage of the great price and signed up. It's safe to say that everyone and their mother is going to be in NOLA the first weekend of March. And that is something I want to be a part of.

But between here and March is training, and self-discipline, that I'm just not sure I have these days...

PW: A Race Recap or 2

PW as in Personal Worst, as in not fast, as in not good. 2 weekends, 2 races, 2 PWs. Boo. HISS!

I made a deal with myself Friday before Crazylegs: if it was raining on Saturday when I woke up I could skip the run, if it was sunny I had to go. I mean seriously, should a sick girl be running in cold rainy weather? I think not. Typically I HATE rainy, cold weather but I seriously sat and hoped and prayed that that's what i would wake up to on Saturday so i didn't have to run). The over paid, highly educated, local meteorologists were all predicting rain so all things were pointing to staying in bed.

Wouldn't you know, it was sunny when I woke up on Saturday. Awesome. Great. I'm excited.

Fuuuuuuuuck.

The only redeeming quality of the day is that however under the weather I was, Wyatt was even more hungover. Like slightly green, rough around the edges, HUNG OVER. I half expected, nay hoped, that he would decide he was too inebriated to run but he was not going to be one to let his Friday night decisions keep him from running.

Looks like I was going to run. I jumped in the shower to try to wake up and loosen up my congested lungs. I suited up, Sugoi Brand Champion shirt and all, and we were off. And then promptly back home because I forgot something. Ok, lessoned learned. Always get your race gear together the night before.

We hustled down there, found our start corral (some 4 blocks from the start line), and we waited. For 55mins. Apparently it takes a while to get 20,000+ runners started. We get to the start line (35mins after the 10am start) and we're off!

I went in with an A, B and C goal.

A. sub-50 (not likely)

B. sub-55 (strong possibility)

C. sub-60

The first mile or so I felt pretty good. We were keeping a 9'ish minute mile, moving right along. I think my favorite part of the entire race was actually running down Langdon. All the crazy college kids, frat boys and sorority sisters, were pre-party on the frat lawns for Mifflin Street Day. It reminded me how much I loved my 4yrs at UW and being a greek. Oh, the good years...

You know what happens after Langdon St tho? Observatory Hill. I am a firm believer that no, and I mean NO ONE, should have to run up Observatory Hill. Ever. For any reason. But it seems just about every local race course takes you up that damn hill. Did I mention I walked the hill? Because I did. I was sick. These things happen.

Just beyond that dreaded hill we hit mile 2. I was feeling a little gaspy, and winded, but I chalked that up to the congestion. It was at that point I decided I would Galloway the rest of the run taking a 1-2min walk break after each mile. Things were pretty uneventful for mile 2 and 3. My legs felt surprisingly strong. My foot wasn't bothering me. But by the 3rd mile I was losing my breath from coughing and the wind. Did I mention it was WINDY? Oh so windy.

Mile 4'ish is when I started to feel, um, done. My legs were starting to get a bit tired and I was just so weezy and coughy and miserable. I had maybe 1/4m of self pity and internal complaining, but I decided that I had to make the last 1/4m strong. I was too close to being done to throw in the towel. So I picked up my pace a touch and just keep moving forward. Before I knew it I was turning into the stadium and running onto the field. And the best part of all this? I beat Wyatt by 30-some odd seconds. Boo-ya!

Crazylegs 2011 57:24 later, was in the books. I came close to my B goal, but as my grandpa always said, close only counts in horse shoes and hand grenades.

From there it was a matter of getting separated from W, being cold and frustrated, finally finding W and then the 2+ mile walk to the car.

Fast forward to this past Saturday. The very first race Wyatt and I ever did together was the Lake Monona 20k. I was well trained, W was not. We ran it for fun, er, I ran it for fun. It was slow, but I remember loving every step because we were running it together. Awwww. Well, we obviously didn't run last year as I had a bum foot. And I didn't think I could run it this year because I was/am just not ready for a 20k yet, but guess what?!?! The wonderful folds at Race Day Events added a 5k this year! Squeeee!

Pre-race photo, courtesy of Focal Flame Photography

The highlight of the race was that the Cambridge Girl's Running club, a wonderful group of 3rd and 4th grade girls, were out running their first 5k! So fun! They were so inspiring and cute I couldn't even be upset that the majority of them beat me...

The lowlight of the race was 1/2m in when some yuppie asshole in a grey Mini Cooper (who lives very near Winnequah Park in Monona) decided he couldn't be bothered to wait for the runners to pass his intersection, on the well marked course, and turned INTO the runners nearly hitting one of the previously mentioned Cambridge girls. And when W yelled at him, which was probably against his better judgement in the first place, the yuppie douchebag proceeded to get out of his car and start yelling at the runners. Give me a friggin' break loser.

The rest of the race? Pretty uneventful. Despite my heavy legs, I kept a strong 9:30min pace for the first mile and a half. And then it kind of unraveled. I felt crampy, and sore, and just unmotivated. I just didn't feel like running, that was kind of the bottom line.

My only goal for the day was a sub-30 time. But just past a mile and a half, when I decided I needed to take a walk break, I knew that goal was not going to happen. Ugh. I thought just maybe if I took that little walk break I would be able to get my legs moving and keep my pace. But maybe 1/2m later I could feel my calves and hams getting tighter and heavier and just needed to walk. Again. So I did. And as I stared at my Garmin I watched my sub-30 goal becoming less and less likely.

I knew I could finish, but just wasn't feeling it. And wouldn't you know my dear Wyatt decided to prey on this weakness and he decided to pick up the pace just a touch in the last 1/4m. I watched him do it. I knew I could catch him, but I doubted I could hold that pace, so I let him beat me. By 7 seconds. Yes, I am using the word let loosely there.

W enjoying his victory!

Lake Monona 5k 2001 31:11 Close, and yet so far, from my goal.

And there you have it. 2 weeks, 2 races, to PWs.

PS - Somehow neither Crazylegs nor the Lake Monona 5k were able to capture a finish line picture of me...Booo!! I will continue to scour the untagged photos in hopes of finding proof of my participation, but I'm not feeling too hopeful.

Under the Weather

Here I am, slouching at my desk, feeling pretty miserable. (Hey bossman, what's up! I am totally breaking the rules, blogging at work. Sorry!) My poor little immune system resisted the department plague as long as it could before succumbing to the bug.

It hurts to swallow, I can't hear, my head feels like it is full of cement. Seriously, I am sick. AND whinny. Whatever.

I have been a trooper this week. I've made birthday treats because well Ryan turned the big 3-0 yesterday and treats were needed. I've dined with dealers because they were in town. I got up early to attend a fundraiser breakfast. I've gotten up in the middle of the night to let the damn puppy out.

All of these things aside, you know what really chaps my ass? Tomorrow is CrazyLegs. And I'm sick.

Yes I would like a cheese with my wine.

Prior to Tuesday of this week, with the plague set in, I've been running and feeling good. I've been making progress not only in form, but in speed. I was confident that I could finish CrazyLegs and feel okay doing it. I had times goals in mind. And now, I'm not even sure I am up to running tomorrow.

Especially with a forecast like this:

Rain, seriously? It's like Mother Nature is mocking me!!

Do I attempt to muscle through the run? Be wet, and cough-y, and miserable for 5miles? Or do I throw in the towel, sleep in and be bummed that I missed CrazyLegs? Ughhhh.

RAGNAR?!

Last summer, post-surgery, I optimistically sat and wrote trainings plans and race schedules to include all of the things I wanted to do last fall, winter, and for 2011. Most of those plans were quickly squashed by a long-slow recovery and a cautious physical therapist.

Needless to say, my plans to coordinate a RAGNAR team for the Chicago relay in June (and the Great River relay in August) went right out the window along with everything else. For those of you living under the proverbial rock, the short of RAGNAR is that it's a series of 2-day, ~200mile, 12 -person relay races. Pretty sick, if I do say so myself.

Wellll, I never got around to putting together a team. BUT yesterday I stumbled across a team of Twitteratti looking for a 12th team member. It sounds like 11 running gals from around the Midwest (and beyond) created a team and plan to run together. How friggin' cool is that?! Did I mention my love of the Twitter? Because I pretty much want to send it flowers and chocolates and maybe even ask it to marry me. But I digress. So this group of runners, the majority of whom only know each other through Twitter have made a team and are looking for a 12th.

How perfect is that?!

But...

The downside to running with a group of people I don't know is that I feel like I would be the weakest link and that relative strangers (who haven't been through the last almost 2yrs of injury with me) may not understand my weaknesses and woes. I truly believe I can be trained and ready to the relay, albeit slowly, but is that enough? Granted, the runner they are looking for has 3 moderately easy legs, all in the 5 mile range. I know I will be able to run more than 5 miles in one go, because shit, I can just about do that now. But is 3-5mile legs in 24hrs? Will that be too much? Will I re-injure myself? Will I let my team down?

I *really* want to do this. I have even written up a very doable, but conservative, training plan to get me to the relay. But I just can't keep the self-doubt from creeping in...

How Yesterday's Run FAILED

Man alive was yesterday's run AWFUL. If I could go back and do it all over again, I would simply stay in my pajamas. On the couch. With the dogs. And it didn't just suck balls for one reason, there were like eleventy hundred reasons.

The first of which was a MAJOR outfit malfunction. Thank the little baby Jesus that I follow the "nothing new on race day" rule and tested out my new Skirt Sports capris at the Y. I put them on at home and stretched and wiggled around. The cut was cute and flattering, functional little hip pockets, it seemed good. I bought these in the same size as all my other SkirtSports clothing, which fit great and I LOVE, so I never thought these would be so awful. I should've given more thought to the fact the waistband kept rolling and bunching, but I didn't. I book it over to the Y, hop on the treadmill and instantly knew this was not going to work. With every step the waistband was rolling and inching down. Like unflatteringly, uncomfortable, dangerously creeping down. I spent the first several minutes pulling and adjusting. I even tried jacking them up dangerously close to camel-toe territory. If I wasn't so uncomfortable I would have actually been embarrassed to be doing this in public. Ugh, fml.

Second, I forgot my inhaler. Most of the time this wouldn't be a deal breaker but I have been hella congested lately. I'm not sure if it's a touch of a cold or my allergies starting to rear their ugly head, but my sinuses are like concrete. Aerobically I've been feeling pretty good so I didn't think it would be a problem, but I was wrong. The fact I came into the warm gym from the cold outside probably had a hand in it, but I was wheezing from the word go.

Third, after the Shamrock Shuffle I took 2wks off. Not purposely. Not recovery time. Just travel for work, everyday life and exhaustion got in the way. When you work 5 12hr+ days in a row its hard to motivate yourself to do a whole lot more. Did I mention that these 12hr days were out of town and over the weekend? I was overworked, sleep deprived, the house was destroyed, there was laundry to do AND a new puppy. Oh, and it's still cold out. Where the hell is sprnig already!!!! Yeah, that's like a quadruple whammy! I realize these are all excuses, wah wah wah, but whatever. Life happens. And sometimes when life happens I just don't make it to the gym.

Finally, no music. I realize many people tun without music but I just can't do it. At least not inside at the gym. Outside, or with other people, no probolem. Inside, on the treadmill, in the noisy smelly gym, no friggin way. The iPod was DEAD which super pissed me off as soon as I got there. For reals, this relatively new iPod has little top no battery life and it never has. Drive me CRAZY!!! My back up was my iPhone...except that I never took the time to load music on to it. FAIL. So instead I deciede to stream Pandora...except that it kept cutting in and out. At out point I *almost* threw my phone at the window. But them I'd be the crazy girl not only sporting a camel-toe and holding up my pants, but throwing a public tantrum. And I'd have a broken iPhone and no moolah to replace it.

So it was at that point, approximately 17minutes and 1.2 miles into my run that I got off the treadmill.

And that is how my run failed in every way possible yesterday.

Unmotivated.

Hi, my name is Katie and I am unmotivated.

There I said. Admitting your problem is the first step. Right?

Coming off over a year and half running-ban is hard! It's like starting over and relearning to run. That coupled with a fear of getting hurt, again, has help fuel my lack of motivation. How in the world do I start over? How did I start in the first place? How, how how?? Whine, whine wine!!

I just cannot get back on the workout-wagon. No matter what I try. I use to routinely come home from work, let the dogs out and head out on my evening run. Days I didn't have time to run after work I would head out for a 30min run at lunch. Waking up at 5 was just part of the routine so that I could swim before work. Toiling over the details of writing the perfect training plan, following it, revising, and tracking it, gave me a sense of accomplishment and excitement.

Heck, even two months ago, in the absence of running, I was able to find the energy and motivation to make it to yoga 3-4 times a week.

Those days are loooong gone.

I'm in a vicious cycle. I am too tired and stressed to workout. All I want to do at the end of the day is veg. It seems thats all I can muster the energy to do. I know that if I got my act together and made sweating part of my daily routine the energy would come back to me, but it's the initial energy I just don't have. I feel like such a sloth!! Ugh.

from Fat to Fit

I am currently typing this from the comfort of my own home, while enjoying a much needed day off! After surviving the trade show from hell, and doing it with an epic cold, a day away from the corporate grind was a must.

So yeah, I'm still a fatty. It's true. And this week did nothing to help that.

Looooong days on your feet and being sick does not exactly inspire you to get in an extra workout. In fact, all it really inspires is food on the run (and usually not good food) and sleep. It's all about creature comforts.

And this weekend is wifezilla's reception. Aaaawesome. Super stoked. The redeeming qualities of this weekend? I'm not working (woot woot), we're headed to the Great Taste before the reception AND my BFF is my copilot all weekend (heck yeah!!).

So needless to say, I don't expect there to be much exercise or healthiness this weekend. I just don't. And I'm full of excuses.

I am happy to report that biking is becoming less painful and I can go farther before feeling it in my foot or getting tired. So I consider than a little step in the right direction. And, I am excited to announce, ChaLEAN starts Sunday!

Speaking of goals for this fall/winter, the PT has put the kibosh on a winter marathon. Sad face. She thinks, and probably rightfully so, that early December could be a bit much too soon. We are still on track to start running in a month's time, which is a hug win....albeit 15 months later, but building quite that much mileage in time for Vegas will be push.

So instead I am shooting for the Tyrenena 1/6th barrel beer run in early November and a January 1/2 marathon somewhere warm (details to be announced at a later date).

Goals for next week:

Full week of ChaLEAN

No fried food (which means no french fries.....)

Bike commute everywhere non-work related

Wish me luck!!

Check. Wait. Repeat.

As in, do you ever find yourself incessantly checking your email just waiting for that one email to come? Or not come? Or your phone. Did it ring? Did I miss a call Do I service? Are there any new voicemail?

Or the mailbox? The old skool mail. I never check the mail, because the only thing that comes in the mail is junk and bills. But I stalking the mailbox like an animal stalks it prey.

One week to the day. There should be some sort of communication by now, shouldn't there be? Is this thing on? Did the Gmail server go down? Is my iPhone 3GS protesting receiving calls because it is not a iPhone 4? Seriously.

Check. Wait. Repeat.

I am being held hostage by all modes of communication.

Check. Wait. Repeat.

I am cast free!!

I am cast free!! I am cast free!! Oh most wonderful glorious day ever, I am cast free!!

My leg was not nearly as gross as I thought it would be, but I still opted not to take any pictures of the shriveled hairy mess that it was. I did sort of like the faux-hawk I could make with my leg hair... but Wyatt kept getting squeamish, so I got rid of it.

Meet Robo-Boot!

My coworkers are convinced I am transforming into a storm trooper, but I'm not so sure. I think this is just a temporary piece of armor.

Life from the sidelines

So this is what it's like to ride the pine pony. I sit here, on a rock, and watch others frolic and have fun. Literally, I am perched on a rock watching the WORS race. Not that I really want to be hauling my arse up the ski hill on a bike, but it sure would beat being cast-bound sittin' on a rock.

Wyatt and Ryan are out "racing" today and I am the ICE contact on site. I am thinking of taking my place in the van and watching some Glee.

That's just the bad sport in me coming out. I don't really mean it. I want to watch them race. In fact I would love to be able to chase them around the course with a cowbell and extra bottles of water and actually cheer them on. But I am on crutches. Crutches + ski hill = IMPOSSIBLE. I know the wrestler on The Bachelorette scaled a mountain (or whatever) just to get some one on one time with Ali, but I'm just not that tough. Or dedicated.

Under the Weather!!

Again.

For reals, can't a girl get a break?

I seem to be coming down with another cold. Or perhaps I never really shook the last one. Who knows, but I am feeling lousy. And I am home alone as usual. And if you know me, you KNOW I do not like being alone when sick. Grumble, grumble, grumble.

Perfect excuse to stay inside in my pajamas all weekend. :)

Except tomorrow afternoon. Sniffles and sore throat be darned, I am headed out to a good friend of mine I don't see nearly enough. Matt, who I have known forever, are meeting for a late lunch, possibly a malted beverage, and some shuffle board. And of course, catching up! How is it that we live in the same city, work only miles apart, and we never see each

other?!?

New goal:

Keep in touch with my friends better!

And get on my bike more.

MIA...?

Yeah, I've been MIA for a while. Life has taken all sorts of twists and turns that's kept me occupied. Or has led me to keep myself. Whatever.

Live happens.

When I started this blog it was to capture my journey and goals as an athlete. Obviously there's more to me than that, but that's what this was about and who I was here. But then last summer my path took a different direction. I was hurt (literally), and frustrated, and all around unpleasant. Insert self-pitying sigh here.

The news on the athlete front has not gotten any better since then. In fact, I would argue it's gotten worse. The 2nd opinion was worse than the first. The update there, btw, is that rest is the only solution. That non-impact, non-strenuous activity is all I get (i.e. swimming and easy cycling, ick). And I am always in pain. Always. But apparently I just have to live with it.

Top it off when heading into the time of year when Wyatt is gone all the time. Valentines? Gone. This week? Gone. Next weekend? Gone. And so on... Yeah, I know it's his job. And he loves it and is good at it. But it still sucks. I want him here more than he's gone. I don't want to spend holidays, however silly and commercial they might be, alone. That's just me.

Work? Well that too is feeling stagnant. Things have changed, but so much has stayed the same. What now?

Maybe I need a vacation. A tropical get a away.

Here I am injured, out of shape, bored, and home alone most of the time. What do I have to write about? Who wants to read about that? Lame, pathetic, whiny, miserable me, wah wah wah...

But that's not me. I've never taken life sitting down, so why I am I now?

It is time for an attitude adjustment. STAT!