Half Marathon Swag...

So my doctor called me fat... I didn't cry but I did follow thru with my cousin Payne and run a Half Marathon. Okay so maybe "run" is the wrong word. It went more like: jog...walk...cry...jog...cry...walk. But the best part of it all is that I finished!!!

I built myself up the day before, I got excited even. The morning of... I was nervous but all the while convincing myself that I had not officially done the most idiotic thing in life thus far. We lined up with a corral and crossed the start line...30mins after the race started but not before the real runners were more than halfway complete. And then...

I had to go! but not like you think, like I had to pee and my bladder was about to shut down. So I had to force myself to use a porta potty which goes again the fabric of my being. I don't like using my own bathroom if I have too many people use it so this took a lot.

3hrs 18mins later of jogging, walking, crying and a few running outbursts... I crossed the finish line. I did it!!! And then I wanted to punch myself in the face. The good news was short of chafing in a few parts and some stretched relieved soreness - I was still together. Tired, Sore, Thirsty, Hungry, Sleepy but Proud!

So you would think that life would be awesme overcoming such a feat... EXCEPT, I have not done anything since. Not a pushup, sit up, long walk on a beach...nothing. So apparently my Half Marathon Swag is me quitting everything....so not good. I still have a middle schooler to lose.

She called me fat

I was feeling super cute despite the rain. I had on pants that are remnants of a smaller me, my shoulders were out and I was wearing my favorite color: green. The nurse took my blood pressure (106/60), my asthma has been under control, everything responds well now I just have to get my blood work she says. Then she turns to me and calls me fat. I listen to her carry on about how I shouldn’t eat things that I already don’t eat. She insinuates that I am not doing what I need to do to not be fat. Tells me about weight watchers and water and calories as I sit there in disbelief…how do I respond in a non-violent manner?

I tried to be an adult… I told her I lost 20lbs recently. I told her I was training for a half marathon and that I play softball. I even told her my problem but all she sees is that I am fat. So I stopped talking, bottled my anger, said okay and left.

I’m still not okay with it. I was happy with my progress until she called me fat. My whole day crumbled. None of my progress made a difference. I wanted to quit, in fact… I did. I screamed, I yelled, I said bad and mean words, I laughed, I complained, I ate, I said more mean words, I accepted it, I refused it, and 7 days later I am still upset.

She said I should to lose 70lbs as if it was the initial goal and then we will work on the rest of the fat after that. I’m trying to accept it as a greater good for my health but I’m already healthy soooo explain that. Actually don’t, cause the reality is that I don’t want anyone to explain…there is a lot I don’t want like:

I don’t want to be judged by the number on the scale and not my body measurements

I don’t want my overall health picture to be discounted because the bmi number isn’t in the prescribed range

I don’t want sympathy or encouragement towards the goal I’m not sure I’m accepting

I don’t want to feel like a failure because I’m not skinny

I don’t want to not accept the goal because my ego is hurt when it is for my benefit

I don’t want to be fat but I don’t want to be the un-fat big girl.

I want to be happy and secure and healthy and if that means I have to lose 70lbs, I guess I’m no longer losing a toddler…

apparently, I’m losing a middle schooler

Time Served...

No, I'm not talking about jail time... I'm talking about the time that I thought I was doing great training and losing weight that officially means nothing. Why nothing? Because it was just the base to prove that I was finally ready to really start training.

I made a bet that turned into a promise to run a half marathon with my cousin Payne. I thought it was a cute friendly thing but she was/is actually serious. I mean, in theory I was/am too. I just had no realistic idea of what it would take to prepare for this. I also had no idea of how much I am not a runner. But I can't break the promise without reason and right now my only reason is lazy...so run I must.

I have 10 weeks to go from averages 2 miles of running on a 3-4mile training day... to 13.1miles at a time. While I don't think I will be able to run the entire race given my lack of preparedness - I have set a few goals:

1. Don't stop - don't stop moving for 13.1miles. I have never done anything for 13.1miles other than press my foot on the gas pedal.

2. Run at least half of the half marathon - I would feel very accomplished if I could run at least 6.5miles and run/walk the remainder.

3. Lose a baby - I don't think I'll lose another toddler in 10 weeks but since I have to get a diet to go with my training, I should be able to lose 10-15lbs.

4. Improve my 5k time - I will be running a 5k (3rd yr in a row) three days before the 1/2 and I'd like to improve that time significantly. Last year I improved by 5mins...hopefully I'll be able to do even better this year

5. RUN! - and by run, I don't mean jog, sprint or walk...but run. Use the mass of body that is most of my body that is between my knees and waist more to keep me moving.

6. No injuries - I mean, it is still me... I will keep wearing my brace, no matter how healthy I feel.

RUNNERS... ON YOUR MARK!

it takes 9 months to make a baby...

and to lose 20lbs apparently.

In the time it takes an egg and sperm to grow into a full grown "feed me, clean me, let me sleep bundle of cuteness" I have lost a whopping 20lbs. Yes this is probably because for the first 5.5 I wasn't committed, got sick, sprained my ankle, had an attack or two but still 20lbs.

Now on one hand I'm super excited because my clothes fit better, some that were too small before now fit and others are becoming too big. If I keep my core muscles engaged it looks like I have a two vertical pack forming under the top layer of fat. I look younger because I'm skinnier - I think fat can age a person. I won the weightloss challenge at work. I can run for more than a mile continuously even with some pretty steep hills.

On the other hand... I should have lost more... I feel like at least 20-30lbs more. It was 9 months for goodness sake.

Now it is officially summer and "OMG, I hate clothes" hot but I am not "Let's get naked" thin. Yesterday I thought about those nine months a little harder as I worked to get a sleeping Tink and half awake LoLo out of the car so we could go to the market in 91 degrees. I broke a sweat, a nail and I'm sure a record for how fast you can go from cool to sweating without being menapausal. Aside from doing it in a two door car, it made me realize that I need to get my life (body) together if I'm going to keep asking God for twins.

So I was thinking about changing the movement from "Losing a Toddler to Find Sexy" to "Losing a Toddler to get ready for Toddlers"  no??

Acceptance

When I started on the road to losing a toddler I was in a pretty bad place mentally. I knew that where I was wasn't healthy and that my mothers "loving" comments about my new body additions were only going to get worse if I didn't do anything.

I would like to continue to lie to myself to say that I've always been accepting of my body and the way I look but that isn't helping me or you. For a long time, I was accepting of my "big bones" and the extra fat they carried. And why shouldn't I be? My family has always accepted it, my friends accepted it, my love interests accepted it and society did to.

That acceptance is what got me here and has me fighting to get back away from it. Now by no means do I think I will ever (in a crack free manner) get down to a size 6 and I have no desire to be that small. But over the course of time in becoming happy with me and accepting who I am, I've determined that there are some things that I refuse to accept from anyone anymore including:

1. I will not accept that being 5inches taller than the people in my immediate circle makes it okay for me to be obese

2. I will not accept that because I have a "coke bottle" shape that it is okay to be obese

3. I will not accept that thick does not equal fat... it does. That is conditioning that makes you think otherwise

4. I will not accept that I have to have a certain body size to be loved.

5. I will not accept that just because I don't have any diseases traditionally associated with obesity that I shouldn't be worried about my weight

6. I will not accept the mind games that clothing manufactures try to play with my self esteem and that little number on the tag

7. I will not accept anyone not accepting me because I'm not "modelesque" when I'm in the list of healthy and active

and so much more...

I'm only willing to accept that I love me for me.

I am going to keep working towards being the healthist me that I can be.

My thigh muscles are broken!

Imagine it...

you just hit a base it that dropped behind second base and sprint to 1st. Runner on 1st gets to 2nd... as you stand at 1st cheering on your teammate at bat... you wait anxiously for the 1st base coach to tell you to run. He hits the ball... fast and hard. You start running...as you get to 2nd you look up to see the signal to keep going, you get to 3rd and look up to see the signal to go home... you push it and you make it and the crowd goes wild!!! Right? WRONG!!! well not completely but ...

In actuality, you dread this hit because your legs feel weird from your sprint to 1st. Once he hit the ball you take off running, after you run for what seems like an eternity you hit and as you are rounding out to 3rd they scream out keep going and run faster and your only reply is "I CAN'T" because your mind and legs are in the middle of an argument and your legs have thrown a coup.  Then just as you pass 3rd where you just knew the base coach was going to hold you but didn't...your teammate who hit the ball while you were on 1st starts chanting in your ear that he is right behind you and that he is going to catch you.... yeah, you read that right... the batter has caught up to you.

While everyone else is cheering at the three score hit that just happened, that is when I realize that my thigh muscles are on FIRE... like omg, somebody shot the sheriff, the deputy and the bank robber. I'm walking but my brain is no longer in control of what my legs are doing...there is an intruder in the control room.

So I start my recap:
I stretched
I did run to 1st on my first hit and I didn't hurt
I only did 1.4miles on Monday after practice
I stretched
I had plenty of water
I had a banana with my cereal
I stretched
I've been runninng
My ankles feel great
I stretched

They said I ran faster than they have seen me run...
They said I sprinted to first pretty fast (with the bat)...
They said great hit and great run...

So why do I feel like this? why?

Because my thigh muscles are BROKEN.

It is the only logical explanation...broken muscles, not torn...just broken.

So apparently between running and softball my thighs have decided it is going to lead the next leg of the movement to finding sexy #1toddlerdown1togo

I did it!

It took 4 months, signing up for a half marathon, spraining my ankle and going into extreme panic about turning 30 but I officially lost a toddler... and that is when I realized that I needed to lose another toddler.

It was the high that you feel after conquering the scariest rollercoaster in the amusement park...and then a storm rolls in and all the rides are closed. The high of finding out that the shoes you have been window stalking are now 50% and the last pair they have is your size...and then you remember that you don't have any money in the bank to buy them. The high of your favorite team making it to the World Series...and then realizing that you will be in a remote location with no access to watch or hear the game.... Lauren sang about it " Oh and it all, it all falls down"

Everyone and I mean EVERYONE has tried to convince me of how great I'm doing and to keep up the good work but the reality of it is that I'm over it. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm happy that the first toddler is gone. My clothes fit better. Clothes that I used to be able to fit now fit again. Life is good except I'm not done.

I was watching Scrubs last night and Dr. Cox gave some good advice: The key to reaching your weight loss goal is to hate your body. It sounds bad but the more I thought about it, he was right. If you love your body, you have no reason to fight through the fits of life that make you want to eat everything that you aren't supposed to eat. If you think you look all that, you have no drive to run 3 miles after softball practice in the rain and skip the bag of chips. So I guess I have the motivation to keep going... I'm not happy with my body yet.

1 Toddler down

1 Toddler to go

So far I've found really cute...

still working towards sexy

Happy New Year?

In general, I will say my new year was awesome... 2011 rounded out with my becoming a homeowner. I spent the nye with Pep - it was low key but still fun. Everything was looking bright - except I have yet to get a steady workout routine back in place for more than two weeks since my body last attacked itself.

I officially agreed to run a half marathon in late May and somehow signed up for a 5k on Saturday - despite my preparedness or lack there of.

I think I need help but I have 5 months to find it... countdown to 30.