Self Sabatoge: Is there any other kind?

The title says it all. I will stipulate that yes, indeed, there are other forms of sabotage. But, let's get real here. The most prevalent form of sabotage, the kind that most of us face, is self inflicted.

I had a bad day... Translation ... I'll eat what I want.
Someone hurt my feelings... Translation... I'm not going to exercise AND I'll eat what I want.
I won't have any fun at the party if I don't partake.... translation... I'm going to eat and drink what I want and be too hungover the next day to work out so I'll eat and drink what I want that day too.

I'll admit that I haven't even begun to tackle the food issues yet. But, I really thought I had this exercise thing under control... that is...until yesterday. Let's begin with I had a bad day and I got my feelings hurt. Let's also stipulate that my running pants were too big. But, I didn't know this at the time.

No... I didn't skip my run. But, I did fail the first time out. I was emotional. My head was not in the game. My pants were falling down. My breathing was jacked up. And, my knee and left ankle were hurting. I just couldn't do it. Or, so I thought. I was a wreck. I made it almost a mile and told Lars I couldn't go any farther. I just wanted to curl up in a ball and sob. Instead, I picked myself up and went inside to do a blistering back workout.

I also cried in the dark on the way back to the gym. "I gave up. I can't believe I gave up." All the way home I was stewing about the fact that I'd quit my run. This was the day that I was going to increase my distance to 1.5 miles. I was so excited and gung ho. Sure, I'd been having severe knee pain for two days. But, it was feeling pretty good last night.Sunday's run was so much harder than what I was facing yesterday and I didn't give up. What was wrong with me? Why did I do that?

Why? I'll tell you why. Because I was upset and I gave myself a mental out. "Oh poor pitiful Margaret got her feelings hurt and she's embarrassed. Boo hoo." By the time I had made my 35 mile commute north to the house, I was damn determined that I was going to run that 1.5 miles if it freakin killed me. I walked in, put on a pair of running pants that actually fit, grabbed my Ipod, and asked the hubs to send out a search party if I wasn't back in 30 minutes.

Now, I don't want to toot my own horn here. But, my neighborhood is quite hilly. I never thought I could even attempt running in my hood. I tried to rid a bike up those hills a couple of times with disastrous results.  I was trying to plot out the easiest 1.5 mile course. Unfortunately, unless I wanted to run the same 1/2 block back and forth a gazillion times, there was no getting out of a couple of hills. I was undaunted. I suited up my ipod and took off. I cried the whole first quarter mile. Then came that first hill. I hated her. But, I made it to the top. My jog was probably more like a tall man's regular walk. But, I was undaunted.

I welcomed the cool night air, which for TN in December was way warmer than it should be. It was during this blissfully quiet trek that I realized what runners have said for ages... "running helps me clear my head." I didn't solve the world's problems during my run. I didn't even solve my own. But, for 23 minutes and 45 seconds the world belonged only to me. I could cry. I could daydream. I could plot. I could pray. And, I did them all.

A year from now, I will look back on December 14, 2011 as the moment when it all clicked. I'll look on it as the precise moment in my life where my head and heart didn't get in the way of my health. It will mark the first time that I chose to rise above my emotional crutches (skipping workouts, quitting something hard, or diving into the fridge for comfort) and did the right thing... the healthy thing... for me.

I did not let that nasty little voice inside my head talk me out of anything. She did bend me. In fact she came dangerously close to getting her way.  But, she did not break me. I came to my senses and got back in the game.

Sadly, my night didn't improve much after that. But, I was grateful that, like clockwork, my night in shining armor pulled up in his big grey truck to offer me a ride the rest of the way home. I took it too because that last hill is a bitch and I really didn't want to walk up it. I'd already run almost 2.5 miles for the day... give a girl a break!

Today, my knee held up surprisingly well. I think icing it immediately when I got home last night made a world of difference. I did not skip the gym tonight either. Shoulders and triceps were on tap today. And, I finished off my session with a 2 mile walk. It was nice.

Welcome to a brand new day. Tomorow begins a new evolution.
Cheers!
Margar

There's an Actual Runner Lurking In Here

I know it's been a a month since my last post. I've been busy and I really haven't had a lot to say other than a bit of complaining about various aches and pains. Believe me. There have been many many complaints. :) If you are a Facebook Friend, you already know all about this.

These past five weeks I've been mainly focused on the "doing" as opposed to the "talking about doing". I started this journey at 1/2 mile. At the end of that half mile I was gasping for breath so hard that I thought 1 mile was impossible. It wasn't. But, I wouldn't have achieved it without the help of Lars. At the beginning of this journey he told me that I could piggy back on his motivation for a few weeks, but then I would have to find it within myself. I did. It was there all along. I just needed to throw out some baggage to find it.

At first, our runs were approached with fear and dread. The only thing keeping me coming back was my innate need for Lar's approval and my gut wrenching fear of being a disappointment. That lasted for about two weeks. Once I hit that mile mark, the game changed. I am happy to SHOUT that last week I went to 1.25 miles. Today, I embark on 1.5 miles.

Now I approach these runs with anticipation and excitement, and still a little fear. Some days I hurt. But, I always ask that ultimate question: "Are you hurt or are you injured?" I can work through pain. Indeed, there have been a couple of days (yesterday being one of them) when I really had to think about the reality of my weight measured against my ability to improve within that magic timetable in my head. I've signed up for my very first 5k Run on January 21, 2012.

I've been at this blog off and on for nearly two years. Most of you were with me at the beginning of "One Year to 100 Pounds". A lofty goal to be sure. One that, in retrospect, was probably a bit unrealistic. I managed to drop about 26 pounds that first 8 months. I became disgusted. But, I kept it off through the end of 2010. I spent most of 2011 putting almost every pound back on. Two years later, here I am at almost the same weight I started. But, I'm not whining about it. It is what it is. Past failures pave the way for future success.

About six weeks ago, thanks to some tough love from a couple of friends, I finally got my head out of my ass and decided to focus on just being healthy. I have to accept that if I continue to do the right things, the weight will eventually take care of itself in its own time. I know what my magic number on the scale is. But, I haven't been on a scale in a couple of weeks. I don't want to be discouraged if it doesn't shoot back the right number. Instead, I'm focused on living life healthier. Period. End of sentence.

For me, not to be a slave to the scale is a major leap of faith. That doesn't mean I don't have goals. I do. Not a single one of them is related to a number on the scale. I am taking measurements and have zero intention of getting on a scale prior to January 1, 2012 when I join a group of friends on a new 12 week challenge that also includes some nutritional goals.

Right now I have my eyes on the 5k Prize. Who knew that inside me there was the heartbeat of a runner lurking all along?

Cheers!
Margar