I back! I'm not dead, I've just been resting my eyes a bit. Here's a lesson I don't want anyone to learn the hard way: taking six weeks off of training after running 13.1 miles is a bad, bad, baaaaaaaaaaaad idea. Whew, getting back on that horse has been a hard process but I'm doing it. Ever so painfully, I'm doing it. Just because you ran 13 miles a few weeks ago doesn't mean you can run 5 (or 3 or even 2) this week when you've been slacking off in your training. Lesson learned. Sucking it up. Moving on.
Athletic endeavors I am currently training for are: the 3 running events of the Fall Run-A-Thon, my first FULL Marathon in WDW on January 10, 2016 (AKA: my 39th birthday!!) and, most imminent, the Tri For Sight Sprint Triathlon in mid-September.
Because of the sprint triathlon, it's been important to add swimming and biking into my training. I've mostly (read: only) been going to spin class and then running the 2.5 miles home as training for that leg of the race but, with Wendy's insistence, I pulled out the ol' Trek bike and hit the open road this weekend. Actually, Chuck pulled out the ol' Trek, cleaned it up and put air in the tires for me and then I hit the not-so-open roads of downtown Louisville to see how far I could get in an hour at medium effort.
Below are 14 random thoughts from the road:
14. Oh good grief, this bike! I feel like Dorothy Gale without the basket and the dog.
13. I am so proud of myself for choosing to bike during the baby's nap instead of napping myself!
12. (As my Runkeeper App chimes in at the 5 minute mark) I've only been riding for 5 minutes?!?! What the...?!?! How long did I tell Chuck I was going to ride??
11. Argh! Why didn't I take 2 minutes to change into more appropriate cycling shorts??
10. Thank you Metro Louisville and bicycle advocates for the addition of bike lanes throughout the city! They are wonderful for nervous bikers like me!
9. Why must I re-learn how my gears work every single summer??
8. Seriously! Why didn't I put on different shorts? Oh, the chafing!
7. At 38 years old I have finally come to peace with the fact that I just cannot stand and pedal. I just can't.
6. Damn, it feels good to be a gangsta.
5. I love cycling through UofL campus on a Sunday. This is so incredibly peaceful.
4. Oh, look! The new flyover bridge on campus is complete. That hill looks fierce but I'm going to try it. <shift gears> pedal, pedal, go, go, go, go, GO, try to stand and pedal, seriously swerve, nope, sit back down, go...go....go...Stop. Nope, not gonna happen. No one saw. Let's just coast back down like nothing happened.
3. (about 2 miles later) ARGH! I just realized I set my gears on the OPPOSITE numbers they should have been to make it up that hill. Stupid gears.
2. (Stop for water at Central Park, hit the hour mark) Hmm, 10 miles...I think I can go ahead and do another 3....
1. Mile 13 - OH MY GEEZ! Why did I bike so far from home? Why am I wearing these stupid shorts? How am I already out of water again? Why am I doing this? Biking is stupid. How in the world am I going to bike 13 miles and then run 3?? I'm going to die!!
Back home Chuck asks me how the ride was. I tell him it was good...and I actually mean it.
Off the chain
-JS
Monday, July 6, 2015
Tuesday, February 17, 2015
My "First" Swim Lesson
Oh yeah, it's happening. I have found a swim coach and will begin my first official swim lesson in the pool this coming Sunday. With that said, apparently, I've already begun my first unofficial swim lesson.
First, let me tell you what I know about my swim instructor. I haven't met him in person yet but I know he is a college student. He has participated in triathlons, has trained triathletes and he is very, very enthusiastic about teaching swimming. I call him the "whippersnapper" (henceforth referred to as "TWS") as I'm fairly certain he may have been born after I graduated high school.
When I first contacted TWS, I informed him that I, while very enthusiastic about the lessons, would need to start at ground zero. He then proceeded to tell me he felt he could get me where I needed to be by the end of April. Whoa, swim cowboy! We have until September! Let's take this a little slower!
This was my first glimpse into just how enthusiastic TWS is about teaching people to swim. What follows are excerpts from e-mails I received when I asked him if there was anything I could do to prepare for our first lesson (i.e. exercises not involving the pool). Spoiler alert: He references drowning more than I would like.
So, that night, when the kids were asleep and the husband was out playing poker, I pulled a neon colored bendy straw from a drawer (because we still have 100 of these stupid things from the 100th day of school) and began to breathe through it while I hunkered down to watch an episode of Parenthood. First, let me tell you, breathing through a straw is very distracting. It's like when the doctor is listening to you your lungs and tells you to relax and breathe normally. You suddenly forget how to breathe normally.
This is basically what happened:
"Hey, this seems pretty easy. Breathing through a straw. Yeah, I got this. I could do this all day."
"Wait, it probably shouldn't be this easy, right? Maybe I'm doing something wrong" Can someone breathe through a straw the wrong way?"
"Wait, I think I'm also breathing through my nose. No, you can't breathe through your nose and mouth at the same time, can you? <holds nose> Whoa, I was definitely breathing through my nose AND the straw. Now I can't breathe at all. <lets go of nose>."
"Why am I producing so much saliva? Saliva is literally running out of the straw. This is gross. Wait, what just happened on the show? Why are they yelling at each other? Dang! I'm going to have to rewind that part right after I find a towel to clean up all this drool"
And on it went like this for about 30 minutes. I haven't picked up another straw since.
TWS is also a big believer in drinking a lot of water. Below is what he had to say about this:
"Most importantly, you will need to start drinking A LOT OF WATER!!!. Your body consists of anywhere from 50%-60% of H2O and to prevent serious cramping and dizziness. It's important to stay hydrated because you DO sweat in the water. It's a silent killer." (Drowning reference #1)
"To get you used to staying hydrated and prepared for the breathing aspect of swimming, drink between 64-72oz (8-9 cups) of water a day."
Let's pause again...I've had two children and my bladder is not what it used to be. If I drink 72oz of water before our lesson, I will need to pee approximately seven times before our 30 minute session is over.
And he continues...
First, let me tell you what I know about my swim instructor. I haven't met him in person yet but I know he is a college student. He has participated in triathlons, has trained triathletes and he is very, very enthusiastic about teaching swimming. I call him the "whippersnapper" (henceforth referred to as "TWS") as I'm fairly certain he may have been born after I graduated high school.
When I first contacted TWS, I informed him that I, while very enthusiastic about the lessons, would need to start at ground zero. He then proceeded to tell me he felt he could get me where I needed to be by the end of April. Whoa, swim cowboy! We have until September! Let's take this a little slower!
This was my first glimpse into just how enthusiastic TWS is about teaching people to swim. What follows are excerpts from e-mails I received when I asked him if there was anything I could do to prepare for our first lesson (i.e. exercises not involving the pool). Spoiler alert: He references drowning more than I would like.
"As for dry exercises, try breathing through a straw. This simulates an elevation mask without the expense of an elevation mask haha."
Okay, let's pause here..."an elevation mask"? What the hell is an elevation mask?? and why "haha"? Is this swimmer's humor? Why would I need an ELEVATION anything in the pool??
Next he writes "Breath through a straw for roughly 20-30 minutes at a time, 1 hour per day. Relax while working on your lung's capacity."
So, that night, when the kids were asleep and the husband was out playing poker, I pulled a neon colored bendy straw from a drawer (because we still have 100 of these stupid things from the 100th day of school) and began to breathe through it while I hunkered down to watch an episode of Parenthood. First, let me tell you, breathing through a straw is very distracting. It's like when the doctor is listening to you your lungs and tells you to relax and breathe normally. You suddenly forget how to breathe normally.
This is basically what happened:
"Hey, this seems pretty easy. Breathing through a straw. Yeah, I got this. I could do this all day."
"Wait, it probably shouldn't be this easy, right? Maybe I'm doing something wrong" Can someone breathe through a straw the wrong way?"
"Wait, I think I'm also breathing through my nose. No, you can't breathe through your nose and mouth at the same time, can you? <holds nose> Whoa, I was definitely breathing through my nose AND the straw. Now I can't breathe at all. <lets go of nose>."
"Why am I producing so much saliva? Saliva is literally running out of the straw. This is gross. Wait, what just happened on the show? Why are they yelling at each other? Dang! I'm going to have to rewind that part right after I find a towel to clean up all this drool"
And on it went like this for about 30 minutes. I haven't picked up another straw since.
TWS is also a big believer in drinking a lot of water. Below is what he had to say about this:
"Most importantly, you will need to start drinking A LOT OF WATER!!!. Your body consists of anywhere from 50%-60% of H2O and to prevent serious cramping and dizziness. It's important to stay hydrated because you DO sweat in the water. It's a silent killer." (Drowning reference #1)
"To get you used to staying hydrated and prepared for the breathing aspect of swimming, drink between 64-72oz (8-9 cups) of water a day."
Let's pause again...I've had two children and my bladder is not what it used to be. If I drink 72oz of water before our lesson, I will need to pee approximately seven times before our 30 minute session is over.
And he continues...
"When you drink water, your brain immediately recognizes that it needs to hold its breathe. So when you take a drink of water, attempt to hold your breathe as long as (comfortably) possible while drinking as much as possible. This is a good exercise and challenge for you to drink your adequate input (AI) of water. Do not exceed your comfort level or exceed 72oz. The last thing you and I want is water intoxication and or drowning from a simple exercise." (Drowning reference #2)
What if I drink through a straw? Am I killing two birds with one stone? I'm just going to go ahead and let you know, 72oz does indeed surpass my comfort level. Can a body full of that much water actually become heavier in the pool hence send me sinking to bottom of the pool immediately? That seems like a real possibility at this point.
Also, should I be concerned that he continues to confuse "breath" and "breathe"?
Good grief, now I really do need to pee. Stay tuned for a post-lesson post next weekend. That is, if I don't drown.
Glub Glub,
JS
Monday, February 16, 2015
Adventurous spirit
For the past 10 years, I've found myself doing the same old fitness things. Classes like cardio kickboxing, running, the occasional weights, repeat. I had a bout of spinning, a bootcamp here or there, but I found myself always reverting back to my comfort zone. Run, kickbox. Over and over.
Deciding to do this triathlon has been a life changer, in terms of getting me out of my exercise comfort zone and into new things. Swimming, while incredibly frustrating to this day, has become one of my very favorite forms of exercise. It challenges me because I'm still new to the game, still honing my techniques and finding my style. It's holding my interest. Getting into swimming encouraged me to try some new types of exercise. I started going to other classes at the gym--Tabata, 20/20/20. Pi-Yo. I signed up for a month-long trial of hot yoga, which I absolutely LOVE; unfortunately, it doesn't love me back. Or more accurately, it doesn't love MY back. I haven't gone as much as I would like. Bottom line: I'm out there, trying everything I can, because who knows what might stick? I may love it, I might hate it, but I'll never know as long as I'm standing on the sidelines.
My advice to you is that if it sounds interesting, just try it. One time. If you hate it, you don't have to do it. But odds are, you might love it. Don't worry about being the newbie...just own it. Anytime I walk into a class I've never done, I enthusiastically let the teacher and other participants know that I'm a first-timer. That way should anything embarrassing happen (and if you know me, you know it will), hey, at least I'm the new girl. I've never been in a situation where anyone made me feel out of place or uncomfortable because I'm new.
What is your adventurous spirit telling you? What will you try?
Sunday, January 25, 2015
Women working out vs. Men working out
Ladies, let’s be honest, men have no idea what it takes for women to exercise. We have so many things against us from the
get-go. There are things men likely never need to
think about or experience but these things shape our exercise routines and
experiences.
Here is a list that has been frustrating me this week. Feel free to add to it.
1. Strength – Men naturally have more upper body strength than
women. Ladies, do you remember having to
climb the rope in gym class? I don’t. You know why? PTSD. It was traumatic. I have never been able to lift my own weight
off the floor. Ropes, chin-up bars,
monkey bars - all a nightmare for me. One of my goals for the year is to change this. I want to be able to do a few pull ups but honestly, I haven't even lifted one finger towards this goal yet. Traumatic, people. Trau-ma-tic.
2. Metabolism – Oh Lord Help Me! I’ve worked my ass off to lose weight. Working out, running, portion control. Three runs, two pilates classes, one spin
class, and not eating that second roll and I can maybe lose a half pound by week’s end. My darling husband can declare at the beginning
of the week he is going to lose five pounds and, by the end of the week, he’s
lost eight pounds AND he’s had pizza three times during the week and likely an entire can of biscuits. WHAT.THE.HELL? The only saving grace for me is that he
usually slides off track by the second week and is back to his previous weight
pretty quickly. Not that I’m rooting
against you, honey…
3. Running at night - Men can run any hour of the day or night without fear of being abducted, raped and murdered. Women cannot run outside during dark
hours unless we desire to be the focus of an episode of 48 Hours Mystery. I’ve seen all of those
shows, I know I am guaranteed to be snatched straight out of my tennis shoes
the second I step out for a night run.
That’s why you rarely see women running alone at night – they’re either scared
to go out or they decided to go out and were immediately abducted by a crazy
serial killer-rapist, never to be seen or heard from again.
4. Boobs – Okay, not all women have this particular problem
but it is one I have to deal with constantly.
I have to put a lot of effort into strapping “the girls” into a
supportive (de)vice so they are not all over the place doing a completely
different exercise from the one I am doing.
Men working out during lunch = 40 minute workout, 5 minutes shower, get dressed and return to work.
Women working out during lunch = 40 minute workout, 5 minute shower, 10 minutes to dry hair and make it presentable (for me that would include lots of product and slow drying for decent, presentable curly hair or a quick dry and flat ironing - both take the same amount of time), 5 minutes to slap on some make-up, 5 minutes to get dressed in a presentable manner - SHIT, now I'm late getting back to work!
And the most undeniable difference -
6. Exercising when Aunt Flo is in town - Yes, ladies, those horrible days during the month when the last thing you want to do is drag your tired, hormonal ass to the gym to workout. Research shows that an increase in exercise and decrease in sugar and caffeine can help get us through those miserable days. Well HA HA HA on you, researchers (probably all male). Mother Nature (a women) declares that all I should do is sit on the couch and consume massive quantities of junk food and caffeine. It takes every ounce of my being to squeeze my water-retaining self into my workout clothes and head to the gym. Like seriously, every single ounce. Men will NEVER EVER EVER know what this feels like.
So ladies, all of this is to prove that any exercise you manage to do in your life has been against the odds, therefore, you are an unbelievable specimen of determination and endurance. Carry on, sisters!
Girls Rule. Boys Drool.
JS
Friday, January 23, 2015
Wardrobe Malfunction
If you're looking for an inspirational post about the amazing health benefits of working out, go right ahead and click the "x" in the top corner of your screen now. This isn't the post for you. If, however, you want to read a hilarious story in which I make fun of myself and share just one of the many (MANY....) embarrassments that I've encountered during this fitness endeavor, keep reading. I'm here to make you feel better about anything stupid that has ever happened to you at the gym. I'm generous like that.
So...I was about...oh...three good weeks into swimming. Starting to feel pretty good about actually being AT the pool, but not to the point where I was regularly swimming. I had a few lessons under my belt and was starting to feel comfortable around the pool and with the swim instructor. I'd just begun to master the art that is packing for a swim lesson--and let me tell you, there's a learning curve there! In the beginning, it was overwhelming making sure that I had everything for the pool. I pack like a pro these days. Anyway, at this point, however, I was still...shall we say...self-conscious around the pool. So, I took a bag of towels, etc. to the pool area to ensure that I had enough...coverage. Again, I'm much less concerned about this now because it's just too much work, but it's relevant to the story. Picture me hauling a giant bag of stuff, most of which was towels.
On this particular day, Anderson had a lesson. I was sitting poolside, minding my own business--checking Facebook, watching the lap swimmers, occasionally watching the boy to make sure he was following directions. All throughout this time, families and swimmers are coming and going, walking past my chair, and my pool bag. I'm fairly certain that at one point, I was actually feeling a little haughty; we were becoming pool regulars! We took swim lessons! Look at us branching out and trying new things! I was learning my way around the pool, feeling good! Looking back, maybe that is the reason that what happened next actually happened. I firmly believe that when you get too high on your pedestal, the universe immediately knocks you down a bit. I was drifting a bit too high for my britches.
At the end of Anderson's lessons, the swim instructor usually stops for a moment to chat about how the lesson went, what the plans are for the next lesson, etc. This day was no exception...I wrapped the boy up in his towel and talked for a minute about the lesson. Then, the instructor left the pool area. It was then--45 minutes after we walked into the pool area, 45 minutes of people coming and going--that I looked down at my bag. Next to the bag was a pair of what my in-laws would call "unmentionables". Yes. A nice pair of panties, just lying there for all the world to see--all those families walking by, the swim instructor, who already had the misfortune of having to see me in my bathing suit and now had to bear witness to this. Now, if they were, say, my "A" panties (ladies, you know what I'm talking about!), it would've been one thing. Yeah, it would have been embarrassing, but hey, at least I have cute taste in undergarments. No...not on this day, friends! On this day, I went with comfort. And unfortunately, comfort means...granny panties. And unfortunately...not just any granny panties. MATERNITY panties. My kids are 5 years old. I haven't needed maternity clothes in a long time. However, I stand by my choice to keep and wear them! They were pricey, and they're sooooooo comfortable. But alas, there, on the pool deck, was a pair of maternity granny panties. I was left with two options: 1) Pretend they weren't mine and leave them, or 2) Own it and pick the damn things up. I went with option 2; I laughed out loud, picked them up, and shoved them in my bag. Like I said, they're super comfortable. I'm still not ready to give them up. It was worth it to suffer and pick them up.
Those stupid little moments that are hilarious and humiliating are good for you, I'm convinced. I'm not even slightly embarrassed to tell the story, because that kind of thing happens to people all the time, and there is comfort in numbers. Just think--if we all shared our embarrassing stories, we would laugh a lot more and feel a lot less alone! I have to admit that I was a little embarrassed to see the swim instructor at our next lesson, though. I've always wondered if he noticed. If so, he surely never acted like it.
Unfortunately that's only one of the wardrobe malfunctions that I've dealt with during my swimming career. But that's another story for another time. Like I say in every post, swimming is the most humbling thing I have ever done.
Happy Weekend!
~WJ
So...I was about...oh...three good weeks into swimming. Starting to feel pretty good about actually being AT the pool, but not to the point where I was regularly swimming. I had a few lessons under my belt and was starting to feel comfortable around the pool and with the swim instructor. I'd just begun to master the art that is packing for a swim lesson--and let me tell you, there's a learning curve there! In the beginning, it was overwhelming making sure that I had everything for the pool. I pack like a pro these days. Anyway, at this point, however, I was still...shall we say...self-conscious around the pool. So, I took a bag of towels, etc. to the pool area to ensure that I had enough...coverage. Again, I'm much less concerned about this now because it's just too much work, but it's relevant to the story. Picture me hauling a giant bag of stuff, most of which was towels.
On this particular day, Anderson had a lesson. I was sitting poolside, minding my own business--checking Facebook, watching the lap swimmers, occasionally watching the boy to make sure he was following directions. All throughout this time, families and swimmers are coming and going, walking past my chair, and my pool bag. I'm fairly certain that at one point, I was actually feeling a little haughty; we were becoming pool regulars! We took swim lessons! Look at us branching out and trying new things! I was learning my way around the pool, feeling good! Looking back, maybe that is the reason that what happened next actually happened. I firmly believe that when you get too high on your pedestal, the universe immediately knocks you down a bit. I was drifting a bit too high for my britches.
At the end of Anderson's lessons, the swim instructor usually stops for a moment to chat about how the lesson went, what the plans are for the next lesson, etc. This day was no exception...I wrapped the boy up in his towel and talked for a minute about the lesson. Then, the instructor left the pool area. It was then--45 minutes after we walked into the pool area, 45 minutes of people coming and going--that I looked down at my bag. Next to the bag was a pair of what my in-laws would call "unmentionables". Yes. A nice pair of panties, just lying there for all the world to see--all those families walking by, the swim instructor, who already had the misfortune of having to see me in my bathing suit and now had to bear witness to this. Now, if they were, say, my "A" panties (ladies, you know what I'm talking about!), it would've been one thing. Yeah, it would have been embarrassing, but hey, at least I have cute taste in undergarments. No...not on this day, friends! On this day, I went with comfort. And unfortunately, comfort means...granny panties. And unfortunately...not just any granny panties. MATERNITY panties. My kids are 5 years old. I haven't needed maternity clothes in a long time. However, I stand by my choice to keep and wear them! They were pricey, and they're sooooooo comfortable. But alas, there, on the pool deck, was a pair of maternity granny panties. I was left with two options: 1) Pretend they weren't mine and leave them, or 2) Own it and pick the damn things up. I went with option 2; I laughed out loud, picked them up, and shoved them in my bag. Like I said, they're super comfortable. I'm still not ready to give them up. It was worth it to suffer and pick them up.
Those stupid little moments that are hilarious and humiliating are good for you, I'm convinced. I'm not even slightly embarrassed to tell the story, because that kind of thing happens to people all the time, and there is comfort in numbers. Just think--if we all shared our embarrassing stories, we would laugh a lot more and feel a lot less alone! I have to admit that I was a little embarrassed to see the swim instructor at our next lesson, though. I've always wondered if he noticed. If so, he surely never acted like it.
Unfortunately that's only one of the wardrobe malfunctions that I've dealt with during my swimming career. But that's another story for another time. Like I say in every post, swimming is the most humbling thing I have ever done.
Happy Weekend!
~WJ
Monday, January 19, 2015
Gym Esteem
For me, there's a specialized niche of self-esteem issues that exists. It's gym esteem; how I feel about my athletic self. This means doing all of the terrible self-deprecating things like paying attention to how fast the girl on the treadmill next to me is running and focusing on which women don't have to stop to take breaks in the classes I attend. Yes, there's always of my brain that says "Hey, at least I'm here doing something!", but let me let you in on a little secret about myself...I am incredibly, incredibly competitive. The truth is, I like winning, I like being "better" at things and seeing improvement. Whenever I run a race, I always check out my age group results and see how many people are below/above me (and there were far more above me; I am NOT a fast runner). I don't necessarily think this is always a bad thing; it's nice to have drive to get better, faster, stronger. But it can be difficult to manage and can definitely beat you down.
Swimming presented me with the worst gym esteem issues I've ever had to deal with. When I first started, I couldn't continuously swim from one end of the pool to the other. Unfortunately, once I got the technique and breathing correct, the only way to work on this was to practice. Everyone I know--especially the poor women I work with--had to endure an earful about how nervous it made me to even THINK about swimming by myself (ie. without my swim instructor, who made me feel more comfortable because if he was there and I didn't make it to the end, hey...I'm just having a lesson!). I remember the first time I attempted it--and I say attempted, because it didn't happen on this day. I changed into my suit before I left work so that I could literally get to the gym, throw my stuff down, and jump in before I had a chance to chicken out. When I arrived that day, people were swimming two to a lane. There was no way in hell I was going to share a lane...the humiliation of not being able to make it to the other end with someone else in the lane was just too much to bear. I sheepishly took my suit off and proceeded to get on the treadmill.
My first time swimming alone happened on a gorgeous Saturday morning. I got there early and there were actually several lanes open. I chose a lane on the end, mostly because that guaranteed that there would only be one person swimming next to me and witnessing my attempts, but an added benefit was that this lane had a gorgeous swath of sunshine from one end to the other, providing me with some much needed organic anti-anxiety therapy. It is not an exaggeration to say that my heart was pounding before I even started, because I so desperately just wanted to be able to make it to the end. I conquered the swim that day...I swam probably six lengths of the pool, with long breaks in between to catch my breath. I smiled under water every single time I saw that wall looming closer and closer. I cannot explain to you the excitement and pride I felt that day. I'm pretty sure that was the day I posted on Facebook that I was going to attempt a sprint triathlon; I was riding the endorphin high that only a positive exercise experience can bring. I hadn't felt that since my last mini-marathon.
Since that day, I've been swimming regularly. I still struggle to continuously swim without taking a break but I regularly swim anywhere from 800-1000m on a swim day, with some kickboard laps thrown in for extra leg work. I can share a lane with the best of them, and I don't even consider what the people in the pool with me are thinking or seeing. I admit to hitting a little swim plateau a week or so ago and getting frustrated (sorry, friends, if you had to hear me complain...), but I pushed past it and swimming is feeling pretty good right now.
The moral of the story is that yes, gym esteem is a real issue. It almost prevented me from accomplishing what I'd been wanting and working toward...being able to swim for exercise. But I encourage you, if you're considering some new type of fitness activity, be it it signing up for a marathon or just going to the gym for the first time, to GO for it! All of the lessons and embarrassments and self-doubt, all of that is nothing compared to that feeling of accomplishment. Nothing. In fact, those embarrassments and moments of doubt and fear make that moment of success much, much sweeter. Try something new, friends. Find something to work for and work for it! I can guarantee you that you will feel stronger and better about yourself in the end. What are you waiting for???
~WJ
Swimming presented me with the worst gym esteem issues I've ever had to deal with. When I first started, I couldn't continuously swim from one end of the pool to the other. Unfortunately, once I got the technique and breathing correct, the only way to work on this was to practice. Everyone I know--especially the poor women I work with--had to endure an earful about how nervous it made me to even THINK about swimming by myself (ie. without my swim instructor, who made me feel more comfortable because if he was there and I didn't make it to the end, hey...I'm just having a lesson!). I remember the first time I attempted it--and I say attempted, because it didn't happen on this day. I changed into my suit before I left work so that I could literally get to the gym, throw my stuff down, and jump in before I had a chance to chicken out. When I arrived that day, people were swimming two to a lane. There was no way in hell I was going to share a lane...the humiliation of not being able to make it to the other end with someone else in the lane was just too much to bear. I sheepishly took my suit off and proceeded to get on the treadmill.
My first time swimming alone happened on a gorgeous Saturday morning. I got there early and there were actually several lanes open. I chose a lane on the end, mostly because that guaranteed that there would only be one person swimming next to me and witnessing my attempts, but an added benefit was that this lane had a gorgeous swath of sunshine from one end to the other, providing me with some much needed organic anti-anxiety therapy. It is not an exaggeration to say that my heart was pounding before I even started, because I so desperately just wanted to be able to make it to the end. I conquered the swim that day...I swam probably six lengths of the pool, with long breaks in between to catch my breath. I smiled under water every single time I saw that wall looming closer and closer. I cannot explain to you the excitement and pride I felt that day. I'm pretty sure that was the day I posted on Facebook that I was going to attempt a sprint triathlon; I was riding the endorphin high that only a positive exercise experience can bring. I hadn't felt that since my last mini-marathon.
Since that day, I've been swimming regularly. I still struggle to continuously swim without taking a break but I regularly swim anywhere from 800-1000m on a swim day, with some kickboard laps thrown in for extra leg work. I can share a lane with the best of them, and I don't even consider what the people in the pool with me are thinking or seeing. I admit to hitting a little swim plateau a week or so ago and getting frustrated (sorry, friends, if you had to hear me complain...), but I pushed past it and swimming is feeling pretty good right now.
The moral of the story is that yes, gym esteem is a real issue. It almost prevented me from accomplishing what I'd been wanting and working toward...being able to swim for exercise. But I encourage you, if you're considering some new type of fitness activity, be it it signing up for a marathon or just going to the gym for the first time, to GO for it! All of the lessons and embarrassments and self-doubt, all of that is nothing compared to that feeling of accomplishment. Nothing. In fact, those embarrassments and moments of doubt and fear make that moment of success much, much sweeter. Try something new, friends. Find something to work for and work for it! I can guarantee you that you will feel stronger and better about yourself in the end. What are you waiting for???
~WJ
Sunday, January 18, 2015
Why I'll bore you with my workout posts on Facebook
So, there is an idea out there that no one wants to hear about other people's workouts on Facebook. That's fair. Believe me, I understand where you're coming from. There are definitely things in my Facebook feed that I will roll my eyes at (vague-bookers, I'm looking at you) but I'm here to declare that my FB friends' workout posts have helped push me to see what I'm capable of. Guess what I've found out? I'm capable of a lot! I'm gonna keep posting about my personal fitness journey and maybe it will inspire at least one other person (or two, or three...).
So, with that said, here is what my workout week usually looks like:
Monday: 6am - Run (length depends on the training week)
Tuesday: Noon - Strength and Stretch, 50 minutes- I used to just half-ass lift weights on this day (if I even did anything at all) but I just started pilates and, let me be honest with you, I hate it. Largely because I am moving in ways my body is not used to and the classes are kicking my ass. I needed to incorporate stretching into my training so I chose pilates because I loathe it less than yoga. Yes, you read it correctly, I DESPISE yoga.
Wednesday: 5:30pm - Cross-Training - Spinning, 45 minutes
Thursday: 6am - Run (length depends on training week)
PLUS
noon Pilates, 50 minutes (I don't hate it any less on Thursdays)
Friday: My sweet, sweet day of rest
Saturday: 7:45am, Weight Watchers meeting followed by my long run (length depends on the training week)
Sunday: This is supposed to be a cross-training day but I've yet to settle into a good cross-training exercise on Sunday. It will eventually be the day I begin to incorporate swimming but, for now, I either walk a bit and call it a day or try a new machine at the gym.
I also stretch most evenings and half-ass some upper body/core exercises like push-ups (hate!) and planks (love!).
I am basically following the Hal Higdon Novice 1 Half Marathon Training Schedule with a few days flipped. You can find it here.
When all is said and done, my workouts only take up an hour or so of my day. I'm always glad I did it - after the fact, of course. My glee is limited or non-existent during the time I'm actually working out.
Sorry, this is probably not the most exciting post but it's part of the process, people.
If you need a little extra inspiration, check out this short video (it's pretty great).
Peace out,
JS
So, with that said, here is what my workout week usually looks like:
Monday: 6am - Run (length depends on the training week)
Tuesday: Noon - Strength and Stretch, 50 minutes- I used to just half-ass lift weights on this day (if I even did anything at all) but I just started pilates and, let me be honest with you, I hate it. Largely because I am moving in ways my body is not used to and the classes are kicking my ass. I needed to incorporate stretching into my training so I chose pilates because I loathe it less than yoga. Yes, you read it correctly, I DESPISE yoga.
Wednesday: 5:30pm - Cross-Training - Spinning, 45 minutes
Thursday: 6am - Run (length depends on training week)
PLUS
noon Pilates, 50 minutes (I don't hate it any less on Thursdays)
Friday: My sweet, sweet day of rest
Saturday: 7:45am, Weight Watchers meeting followed by my long run (length depends on the training week)
Sunday: This is supposed to be a cross-training day but I've yet to settle into a good cross-training exercise on Sunday. It will eventually be the day I begin to incorporate swimming but, for now, I either walk a bit and call it a day or try a new machine at the gym.
I also stretch most evenings and half-ass some upper body/core exercises like push-ups (hate!) and planks (love!).
I am basically following the Hal Higdon Novice 1 Half Marathon Training Schedule with a few days flipped. You can find it here.
When all is said and done, my workouts only take up an hour or so of my day. I'm always glad I did it - after the fact, of course. My glee is limited or non-existent during the time I'm actually working out.
Sorry, this is probably not the most exciting post but it's part of the process, people.
If you need a little extra inspiration, check out this short video (it's pretty great).
Peace out,
JS
Monday, January 12, 2015
Making Changes
I don't know exactly why, but I absolutely LOVE good quotes. Whether they are about success/achieving goals, life, overcoming obstacles, whatever--I just love a well-written quote. Good writing is literally art--the art that is created when words are intentionally sewn together in such a way that it strikes a chord with your inner being. I can't get enough. Anyway, I came across this particular quote recently and it is, very literally, a great description of how I came to where I am with my fitness and diet--my health:
That's exactly what happened. I was tired of my pants not fitting, of sitting on the couch after work struggling to stay awake. So, I went to bed one night and woke up ready to make a change. And I haven't looked back. This is definitely the longest I've ever stayed this focused on my health, including diet and exercise. I feel like it has become more than "a change" I made. It's become how I live my life. It's just what I do.
A few people have asked me what I've changed, so I thought I would share. Disclaimer: I am in NO way trained to help anyone make any kind of decisions about nutrition and exercise; I leave that to the professionals, and so should you. I'm just sharing what I've been doing that has helped me take back control of food and fitness.
1) I drink my water. When you are exercising to the point of being thirsty and sweating, it's so important. If you know me, you know I hate water, so this has been a challenge. At first, I squeezed lemon into my water all day long, but now I can stomach it without lemon. I don't measure or try to reach a certain amount, and I'm sure that some days I drink less than others, especially if I'm particularly busy at work. I just drink enough to feel very hydrated. I am not going to lie; I still drink diet sodas as a treat on occasion. I'm not all good.
2) Portion control! Every single time I say that phrase, I think of a certain Prince song from the late 90s...you know which one I'm talking about. And if you don't, you might be better off anyway (Although that is a legit jam...Prince is the shit!). That's my biggest issue with eating...I struggle to stop. So, for now, I'm eating all things that are portion controlled. I confess...sometimes that means processed. BUT...if I buy something processed, it's organic, non-GMO stuff (read: EXPENSIVE). I might have a tuna fish sandwich for lunch on Pepperidge Farm "Very Thin" bread, with a tablespoon of light mayo, and a salad. Every single part of my meals are controlled. This has really helped me understand the difference between being full and being stuffed--which is what I've leaned toward in the past. It's important to me, however, to be able to live a normal life. This means going out for meals with friends and enjoying myself without worrying about sticking to a diet or ordering something I don't really want. What I've learned is that I physically FEEL better when I eat healthier and less. For instance, I went to dinner this past weekend and ate a fairly large helping of fries and part of a hamburger, and I was miserably full, to the point of thinking that eating like that isn't worth it.
3) I don't eat the meals I cook. I don't eat what my family eats. My kids are both scrawny; although they get plenty of veggies and fruit, I don't skimp on fats for them, which doesn't work for me. I thought I would be very disappointed by this, but I'm surprisingly okay. We spend plenty of time together in the evenings; I refuse to feel bad about not literally sharing a meal with them.
4) I gave up snacking. I was a big time snacker. Huge. I quit cold turkey. If I feel like I need something to eat, I drink a glass of water. If I STILL feel like I need to eat, I assume I probably do, and I eat something, usually an apple or Greek yogurt. If I'm working out that day, especially if I know it'll be tough, I'll eat an energy bar. Most days, I don't need to snack. If I feel like treating myself, I do eat popcorn before bed. We started making our own popcorn on the stove this past year and I'll never eat microwave popcorn again. A tiny bit of sunflower oil...delicious snack that doesn't leave me feeling totally guilty.
5) I gave up SWEETS! This is the craziest one for me. If you know me, you know that I have always loved sweets. They're my downfall. I have seriously given them up. I literally looked at the bowl of Halloween candy on my table and did not eat one single piece. It was a first, I can assure you. Now I'm not crazy; on holidays, like Christmas and Thanksgiving, I ate dessert. We made cookies and I had a few. I'm not saying I never eat anything sweet; that's extreme and I'm not interested in extremes. But on a daily basis, I really try hard not to eat sugary stuff. An unexpected and pleasant result is that when I DO eat something sweet, it's almost too sweet for me.
6) I break a sweat most days. I have a history of either working out religiously OR controlling my diet, but never together. This time, I'm working on both at the same time, and I couldn't be happier. When I can't get to the gym, I try to either run near home or do some weights/exercises at home. Even if all I have is a short 20-30 minute window, I try to do something active every day. Bonus: Anderson works out with me when I have to do it at home. A 5 year old working out is hilarity at its best. You should see his squats and planks. :-)
I think most importantly, I've kept the parts of my life that are important to me while still working on my health, and even without giving up certain things (ie. BEER), I'm still seeing noticeable results, both physically and in my endurance. If I want to go to a brewery with friends and have a few drinks, I do it. If a friend invites me to brunch, I go. I am working very, very hard on not feeling guilty about it when I eat meals that are "bad". I tell myself that I don't always eat that way, so there's no reason to stress about it. I pick up with my controlled diet and exercise and move on. I know that if I wanted to be hard-core sculpted, or a truly competitive athlete, I would need to give up some of those things--but they're meaningful activities for me. Social things that I truly enjoy. So I don't. And I'm okay with that.
So that's it--that's how I got here. I love where I'm at; I can wear the clothes that are in my closet, I can do an entire class of any kind without having to stop or huff and puff. I can tell that my entire body is stronger than it has been in a very, very long time--maybe ever. I feel capable and present in a way that I haven't been.
Tell us about you--what's your routine? Regimen? I love to hear about how others are doing it...
A few people have asked me what I've changed, so I thought I would share. Disclaimer: I am in NO way trained to help anyone make any kind of decisions about nutrition and exercise; I leave that to the professionals, and so should you. I'm just sharing what I've been doing that has helped me take back control of food and fitness.
1) I drink my water. When you are exercising to the point of being thirsty and sweating, it's so important. If you know me, you know I hate water, so this has been a challenge. At first, I squeezed lemon into my water all day long, but now I can stomach it without lemon. I don't measure or try to reach a certain amount, and I'm sure that some days I drink less than others, especially if I'm particularly busy at work. I just drink enough to feel very hydrated. I am not going to lie; I still drink diet sodas as a treat on occasion. I'm not all good.
2) Portion control! Every single time I say that phrase, I think of a certain Prince song from the late 90s...you know which one I'm talking about. And if you don't, you might be better off anyway (Although that is a legit jam...Prince is the shit!). That's my biggest issue with eating...I struggle to stop. So, for now, I'm eating all things that are portion controlled. I confess...sometimes that means processed. BUT...if I buy something processed, it's organic, non-GMO stuff (read: EXPENSIVE). I might have a tuna fish sandwich for lunch on Pepperidge Farm "Very Thin" bread, with a tablespoon of light mayo, and a salad. Every single part of my meals are controlled. This has really helped me understand the difference between being full and being stuffed--which is what I've leaned toward in the past. It's important to me, however, to be able to live a normal life. This means going out for meals with friends and enjoying myself without worrying about sticking to a diet or ordering something I don't really want. What I've learned is that I physically FEEL better when I eat healthier and less. For instance, I went to dinner this past weekend and ate a fairly large helping of fries and part of a hamburger, and I was miserably full, to the point of thinking that eating like that isn't worth it.
3) I don't eat the meals I cook. I don't eat what my family eats. My kids are both scrawny; although they get plenty of veggies and fruit, I don't skimp on fats for them, which doesn't work for me. I thought I would be very disappointed by this, but I'm surprisingly okay. We spend plenty of time together in the evenings; I refuse to feel bad about not literally sharing a meal with them.
4) I gave up snacking. I was a big time snacker. Huge. I quit cold turkey. If I feel like I need something to eat, I drink a glass of water. If I STILL feel like I need to eat, I assume I probably do, and I eat something, usually an apple or Greek yogurt. If I'm working out that day, especially if I know it'll be tough, I'll eat an energy bar. Most days, I don't need to snack. If I feel like treating myself, I do eat popcorn before bed. We started making our own popcorn on the stove this past year and I'll never eat microwave popcorn again. A tiny bit of sunflower oil...delicious snack that doesn't leave me feeling totally guilty.
5) I gave up SWEETS! This is the craziest one for me. If you know me, you know that I have always loved sweets. They're my downfall. I have seriously given them up. I literally looked at the bowl of Halloween candy on my table and did not eat one single piece. It was a first, I can assure you. Now I'm not crazy; on holidays, like Christmas and Thanksgiving, I ate dessert. We made cookies and I had a few. I'm not saying I never eat anything sweet; that's extreme and I'm not interested in extremes. But on a daily basis, I really try hard not to eat sugary stuff. An unexpected and pleasant result is that when I DO eat something sweet, it's almost too sweet for me.
6) I break a sweat most days. I have a history of either working out religiously OR controlling my diet, but never together. This time, I'm working on both at the same time, and I couldn't be happier. When I can't get to the gym, I try to either run near home or do some weights/exercises at home. Even if all I have is a short 20-30 minute window, I try to do something active every day. Bonus: Anderson works out with me when I have to do it at home. A 5 year old working out is hilarity at its best. You should see his squats and planks. :-)
I think most importantly, I've kept the parts of my life that are important to me while still working on my health, and even without giving up certain things (ie. BEER), I'm still seeing noticeable results, both physically and in my endurance. If I want to go to a brewery with friends and have a few drinks, I do it. If a friend invites me to brunch, I go. I am working very, very hard on not feeling guilty about it when I eat meals that are "bad". I tell myself that I don't always eat that way, so there's no reason to stress about it. I pick up with my controlled diet and exercise and move on. I know that if I wanted to be hard-core sculpted, or a truly competitive athlete, I would need to give up some of those things--but they're meaningful activities for me. Social things that I truly enjoy. So I don't. And I'm okay with that.
So that's it--that's how I got here. I love where I'm at; I can wear the clothes that are in my closet, I can do an entire class of any kind without having to stop or huff and puff. I can tell that my entire body is stronger than it has been in a very, very long time--maybe ever. I feel capable and present in a way that I haven't been.
Tell us about you--what's your routine? Regimen? I love to hear about how others are doing it...
Sunday, January 11, 2015
Confessions of a Non-Athlete
So, I've verbally agreed to complete this sprint triathlon in September. I say "verbally agreed" because registration has not yet begun and my drive to challenge myself is the only thing tethering me to this insane commitment. For those who don't know what a sprint triathlon is (i.e. me about two weeks ago), it is a 1/2 mile swim followed immediately by a 5k run which is followed immediately by a thirteen mile bike ride. I don't know if every sprint triathon is like this - that's how little I know. Now that you know this, I have a few confessions to make:
Confession 1 - I can't swim. I mean, I grew up with a pool in my backyard, I can keep myself afloat and I can get from one end of the pool to the other but I can't SWIM. Like, I can't make my body work in a fashion that gets me through the water faster than say, a snail, much less with my arms and legs in coordination with one another. I'm sure my parents will be thrilled to hear this after spending years of time and money maintaining a pool. So, needless to say, I'll be signing up for swim lessons in the near future. Oh, I also have a horrible fear of getting water in my ears/ up my nose and I hate being splashed in the face. So there's that.
Confession 2 - I'm a terribly slow runner. When Wendy and I were discussing the idea of this blog, we were also discussing our feelings of working out around "legit" athletes. How we felt inferior to those around us because we hadn't been at the game as long as they had. We were out of shape, clunky, and generally had no idea what we were doing. I explained that I used to feel that way when I started running but now I feel totally legit - even if I'm only running a twelve minute mile. For those of you who have no point of reference, let me explain. I was at the gym the other day just busting my tail on the treadmill when I noticed the guy running beside me was holding his side, obviously in pain. I was sweating, panting, basically dying and I was probably only two miles into a four mile run when he decided to dial it back to tend to this pain in his side. He slowed to a walking pace - only I saw his speed and realized his walking pace (with a pain in his side) was still faster than my running pace. Sigh.
Confession 3 - If given the option of biking down a sidewalk or hitting a telephone pole, I choose the telephone pole. Not on purpose, mind you. I didn't learn to ride a bike until I was 12. Yes, you read that correctly. Twelve. My little sister was barreling down the street on her two-wheeler when she was probably three but me? Nope. Not for lack of trying. My poor mother spent endless hours running around behind me just hoping I would find my balance and stay on that bike but I just couldn't get it. I'm not sure how it finally happened but eventually I learned to stay upright. I just don't do a great job of it. I'm a nervous rider. I freak out if I get within 3 feet of any obstacle on any side of me. On occasion, this has led to me plowing directly into said obstacle (refer to aforementioned telephone pole).
I'm sure at this point you see why agreeing to complete an event where I need to swim, run and bike could possibly end in disaster. So stay tuned. It promises to get interesting.
2 Legit 2 Quit,
JS
Confession 1 - I can't swim. I mean, I grew up with a pool in my backyard, I can keep myself afloat and I can get from one end of the pool to the other but I can't SWIM. Like, I can't make my body work in a fashion that gets me through the water faster than say, a snail, much less with my arms and legs in coordination with one another. I'm sure my parents will be thrilled to hear this after spending years of time and money maintaining a pool. So, needless to say, I'll be signing up for swim lessons in the near future. Oh, I also have a horrible fear of getting water in my ears/ up my nose and I hate being splashed in the face. So there's that.
Confession 2 - I'm a terribly slow runner. When Wendy and I were discussing the idea of this blog, we were also discussing our feelings of working out around "legit" athletes. How we felt inferior to those around us because we hadn't been at the game as long as they had. We were out of shape, clunky, and generally had no idea what we were doing. I explained that I used to feel that way when I started running but now I feel totally legit - even if I'm only running a twelve minute mile. For those of you who have no point of reference, let me explain. I was at the gym the other day just busting my tail on the treadmill when I noticed the guy running beside me was holding his side, obviously in pain. I was sweating, panting, basically dying and I was probably only two miles into a four mile run when he decided to dial it back to tend to this pain in his side. He slowed to a walking pace - only I saw his speed and realized his walking pace (with a pain in his side) was still faster than my running pace. Sigh.
Confession 3 - If given the option of biking down a sidewalk or hitting a telephone pole, I choose the telephone pole. Not on purpose, mind you. I didn't learn to ride a bike until I was 12. Yes, you read that correctly. Twelve. My little sister was barreling down the street on her two-wheeler when she was probably three but me? Nope. Not for lack of trying. My poor mother spent endless hours running around behind me just hoping I would find my balance and stay on that bike but I just couldn't get it. I'm not sure how it finally happened but eventually I learned to stay upright. I just don't do a great job of it. I'm a nervous rider. I freak out if I get within 3 feet of any obstacle on any side of me. On occasion, this has led to me plowing directly into said obstacle (refer to aforementioned telephone pole).
I'm sure at this point you see why agreeing to complete an event where I need to swim, run and bike could possibly end in disaster. So stay tuned. It promises to get interesting.
2 Legit 2 Quit,
JS
Friday, January 9, 2015
For us!
So here goes my first post. This is as hard as the first workout toward forty and fit. I've been very hesitant to contribute to this blog, but one thing I'm slowly learning as time moves on is that I've got to contribute to myself. So this seems to be a gift that God/ the universe/ or whatever you fathom has given me. Really it's just consciousness to one of many gifts. So for me, the first step into making my fitness a reality is to put it into words which will create action in myself. Ha! That sounds deep, but really, it is gonna at least hold me accountable. So here goes! I'm looking forward to a journey of feeling all that's in store, the good, the bad, the ugly, but the true. Basically, this journey is one for all women who find themselves nurturing everyone around them and then only remember to nurture their self when they are in bed with bronchitis or whatever else forces them to stop. Here's to doing what feels good to YOU ~ doing what makes YOU shine, doing what makes YOU grow.
~ Brooke
~ Brooke
Tuesday, January 6, 2015
The Hardest Part
I started taking swim lessons around two months ago. On the day that I asked our swim teacher about taking lessons, I was both crazy excited at the thought of tackling this new athletic task and completely bummed. Bummed because I would have to do what probably 90% of women dread doing--buy, and subsequently wear--a bathing suit.
Now as I mentioned in my previous post, a big part of all of this athleticism is due to the fact that I hit my all-time highest weight this year. So naturally I was about as excited about finding and wearing a suit as, say, taking care of my entire family during a stomach virus. To add insult to injury, with it being fall/winter, the selection of suits wasn't great. In fact, most department stores didn't have them at all (and soapbox: Sporting goods stores, listen up! People swim YEAR ROUND!!!! There is a little thing called an INDOOR POOL! Get with it!). Fortunately, I did have two suits that I considered swim lesson appropriate. Both were...umm...the kind of suits that hold you in when you aren't feeling the thinnest. Okay, they were Spanx. One was a size medium, the other a large. Being the ultra self-conscious person that I am, I decided on the large for my first lesson. I packed my stuff with great trepidation and set off for the pool.
This next part astounds me today as much as it did in that very moment. It astounds me for so many reasons, so many of which I am adamantly against. And yet...it's the complete and utter truth. I stood in that locker room, by the showers, next to the door that leads to the pool area, for a full five minutes. I literally could not make myself walk out there. Not because I was afraid of looking like an ass with my swimming. I couldn't walk out there because I was in my swimsuit and I had nothing covering me. At the Y, there is a wall of windows that leads to the lobby. Everyone coming and going can see into the pool area, not to mention all the people in the pool area itself. Now before you say it, I am FULLY aware that people aren't just sitting there, staring at us swimmers, waiting to critique our physique. I get that. That doesn't change the fact that I felt completely horrified anyway. My brain kept telling me to put one foot in front of the other and walk out the damn door. My heart kept saying "Hell, no. Go back and change your clothes!" It took everything in my being to walk through that door. THAT, my friends, was the hardest part of swim lessons.
I absolutely HATE feeling that way. I don't consider myself someone with low self-esteem. I'm comfortable with who I am, what I believe, how I parent. But my looks? Yes. And I HATE it! The funny part is, if someone told me this story as an outsider, I know what my advice would be. I would tell them something to the effect of "Screw them! You're doing something for your health! You're out there, doing it! Who cares what they think??" So tired of society influencing how I feel about myself, appearance-wise. And yet, it is what it is. There is, however, a bright spot. I'm not going to lie and say I'm more comfortable, that I feel better about myself. But I have gotten used to it. I don't have to talk myself out of the changing room anymore--and that lasted a full three lessons, by the way.
Since that first lesson, I've lost weight and toned up some. I also swim a lot more, so I run out of clean suits quicker. This past weekend, I was forced to wear the size medium Spanx suit. I thought, hey, I'm smaller. It'll be fine, right? WRONG. This is not a joke...I bruised myself putting that damn thing on. I don't mean bruising myself in the regular sense of the word--I didn't fall down, or hit my head. No. I literally bruised my outer thighs pulling that god-awful, boa constricter-esque invention over my legs--which clearly aren't quite that small yet. My leg literally aches. The Spanx suits, friends? Dangerous! I will be more than happy to let my flab fly free to avoid that kind of agony in the future. Just a word to the wise.
I do feel proud that I've overcome that paralyzing hatred of walking out of the locker room. It's a big deal, and only one part of what has made learning to swim one of the most humbling experiences of my life. More stories to come.
~W
Now as I mentioned in my previous post, a big part of all of this athleticism is due to the fact that I hit my all-time highest weight this year. So naturally I was about as excited about finding and wearing a suit as, say, taking care of my entire family during a stomach virus. To add insult to injury, with it being fall/winter, the selection of suits wasn't great. In fact, most department stores didn't have them at all (and soapbox: Sporting goods stores, listen up! People swim YEAR ROUND!!!! There is a little thing called an INDOOR POOL! Get with it!). Fortunately, I did have two suits that I considered swim lesson appropriate. Both were...umm...the kind of suits that hold you in when you aren't feeling the thinnest. Okay, they were Spanx. One was a size medium, the other a large. Being the ultra self-conscious person that I am, I decided on the large for my first lesson. I packed my stuff with great trepidation and set off for the pool.
This next part astounds me today as much as it did in that very moment. It astounds me for so many reasons, so many of which I am adamantly against. And yet...it's the complete and utter truth. I stood in that locker room, by the showers, next to the door that leads to the pool area, for a full five minutes. I literally could not make myself walk out there. Not because I was afraid of looking like an ass with my swimming. I couldn't walk out there because I was in my swimsuit and I had nothing covering me. At the Y, there is a wall of windows that leads to the lobby. Everyone coming and going can see into the pool area, not to mention all the people in the pool area itself. Now before you say it, I am FULLY aware that people aren't just sitting there, staring at us swimmers, waiting to critique our physique. I get that. That doesn't change the fact that I felt completely horrified anyway. My brain kept telling me to put one foot in front of the other and walk out the damn door. My heart kept saying "Hell, no. Go back and change your clothes!" It took everything in my being to walk through that door. THAT, my friends, was the hardest part of swim lessons.
I absolutely HATE feeling that way. I don't consider myself someone with low self-esteem. I'm comfortable with who I am, what I believe, how I parent. But my looks? Yes. And I HATE it! The funny part is, if someone told me this story as an outsider, I know what my advice would be. I would tell them something to the effect of "Screw them! You're doing something for your health! You're out there, doing it! Who cares what they think??" So tired of society influencing how I feel about myself, appearance-wise. And yet, it is what it is. There is, however, a bright spot. I'm not going to lie and say I'm more comfortable, that I feel better about myself. But I have gotten used to it. I don't have to talk myself out of the changing room anymore--and that lasted a full three lessons, by the way.
Since that first lesson, I've lost weight and toned up some. I also swim a lot more, so I run out of clean suits quicker. This past weekend, I was forced to wear the size medium Spanx suit. I thought, hey, I'm smaller. It'll be fine, right? WRONG. This is not a joke...I bruised myself putting that damn thing on. I don't mean bruising myself in the regular sense of the word--I didn't fall down, or hit my head. No. I literally bruised my outer thighs pulling that god-awful, boa constricter-esque invention over my legs--which clearly aren't quite that small yet. My leg literally aches. The Spanx suits, friends? Dangerous! I will be more than happy to let my flab fly free to avoid that kind of agony in the future. Just a word to the wise.
I do feel proud that I've overcome that paralyzing hatred of walking out of the locker room. It's a big deal, and only one part of what has made learning to swim one of the most humbling experiences of my life. More stories to come.
~W
Friday, January 2, 2015
Getting There
First of all, I'm SO excited about this goal and this blog. I love the idea of shared blogs and think that, when people with different voices and viewpoints write together, it's just literary gold. I hope you'll keep reading--I think you'll really like this.
Now...how did I get to this point? Let's see. I think it was probably when I went to the doctor and weighed on the devil-scale, and the number that popped up on the screen was higher than it has ever been, outside of pregnancy. It took awhile for that to sink in, but the number, in combination with the fact that none of my pants fit and I had already bought "big" pants, was a turning point. That and the mid-life crisis-type thing I'm experiencing--but that's for another post. I had a day that was pretty much an all-day binge, and that was it. I was done with the unhealthy lifestyle I had come to live.
Since October 14th (which is the date I went to the doctor and saw that hideous number), I've lost anywhere between 11-14 pounds, depending on which scale you use. I've changed my eating COMPLETELY. I've started working out regularly. And I decided two things: I wanted to learn to swim, and I wanted to do a sprint triathlon. Now before you ask...yes, I could already swim. I swam daily as a kid. But I never learned to breathe and swim at the same time, which is obviously necessary if one wants to swim laps. So, I signed myself up for swim lessons--hey, if Anderson could do it, so could I! And the rest is history! Now instead of learning to breathe, I'm working on little things like using my arms more than my legs, and getting the most out of pushing off from the wall so that I can save my energy. Swimming has been one of the absolute most challenging, most HUMBLING experiences of my life--one that will receive many, many blog posts in the future, I'm certain.
If you want to hear the truth--the HONEST truth--about the transformation from a mostly sedentary person to a sprint triathlete, come back. Read. Enjoy. I assure you it will be a comical, frustrating, hilarious ride.
-W
Now...how did I get to this point? Let's see. I think it was probably when I went to the doctor and weighed on the devil-scale, and the number that popped up on the screen was higher than it has ever been, outside of pregnancy. It took awhile for that to sink in, but the number, in combination with the fact that none of my pants fit and I had already bought "big" pants, was a turning point. That and the mid-life crisis-type thing I'm experiencing--but that's for another post. I had a day that was pretty much an all-day binge, and that was it. I was done with the unhealthy lifestyle I had come to live.
Since October 14th (which is the date I went to the doctor and saw that hideous number), I've lost anywhere between 11-14 pounds, depending on which scale you use. I've changed my eating COMPLETELY. I've started working out regularly. And I decided two things: I wanted to learn to swim, and I wanted to do a sprint triathlon. Now before you ask...yes, I could already swim. I swam daily as a kid. But I never learned to breathe and swim at the same time, which is obviously necessary if one wants to swim laps. So, I signed myself up for swim lessons--hey, if Anderson could do it, so could I! And the rest is history! Now instead of learning to breathe, I'm working on little things like using my arms more than my legs, and getting the most out of pushing off from the wall so that I can save my energy. Swimming has been one of the absolute most challenging, most HUMBLING experiences of my life--one that will receive many, many blog posts in the future, I'm certain.
If you want to hear the truth--the HONEST truth--about the transformation from a mostly sedentary person to a sprint triathlete, come back. Read. Enjoy. I assure you it will be a comical, frustrating, hilarious ride.
-W
Thursday, January 1, 2015
Motivation
I'm what one would consider a "late-in-life" mom. I had our first daughter, Charlie, when I was 32 and our youngest, Irie, when I was 36. When I was pregnant with Irie, my doctor informed me that the medical term for a pregnancy after 35 was a "geriatric pregnancy." First, I can assure you that is the first and last time he mentioned this term in my presence. Second, this term moved something inside of me that I didn't know existed. I've never been athletic. Ever. I've never played sports or ran unless something was chasing me. I've always liked to walk but largely on a leisurely basis only. It was during that doctor's visit that I realized I needed to be more proactive in my lifestyle. I needed to be around long enough to watch my girls grow into amazing women. I also wanted to be a good example for them.
I live in Louisville, Kentucky, home of the Kentucky Derby and the two week flurry of events that lead to those "greatest two minutes in sports." Anchors of the festivities include the Kentucky Derby Festival half and full marathons. I have been on the sidelines of these events too many times to count and I've even walked the mini once. Every year I look at those runners and think how cool it would be to participate (as a legit runner) in something so iconic to my hometown. This thought, paired with my sudden paralyzing fear of not seeing my kids grow up, led me to decide that running would be my path to fitness.
I had Irie in November of 2013 and in March of 2014 I started a Couch to 5K program. At first, I didn't think I would make it through the 90 second run intervals. Like, I thought I would die. They were the longest 90 seconds of my life. I remember looking ahead on the app and seeing that I should be running in 20 minutes stretches in week six and just wanted to cry. I DID get to week 6 and I DID survive running for 20 minutes straight. Since then, I have run two 5K and two 10K races. I've also lost the 40 lbs of baby weight I gained plus another 50 lbs that had crept up on me over the years. Today, a 5K run is just my regular Tuesday run. Now, I've got my eyes on the prize - the Derby half marathon in April 2015 and then, in September 2015, this sprint triathlon that I have naively agreed to do. But more on that later.
Cheers to the New Year,
JS
I live in Louisville, Kentucky, home of the Kentucky Derby and the two week flurry of events that lead to those "greatest two minutes in sports." Anchors of the festivities include the Kentucky Derby Festival half and full marathons. I have been on the sidelines of these events too many times to count and I've even walked the mini once. Every year I look at those runners and think how cool it would be to participate (as a legit runner) in something so iconic to my hometown. This thought, paired with my sudden paralyzing fear of not seeing my kids grow up, led me to decide that running would be my path to fitness.
I had Irie in November of 2013 and in March of 2014 I started a Couch to 5K program. At first, I didn't think I would make it through the 90 second run intervals. Like, I thought I would die. They were the longest 90 seconds of my life. I remember looking ahead on the app and seeing that I should be running in 20 minutes stretches in week six and just wanted to cry. I DID get to week 6 and I DID survive running for 20 minutes straight. Since then, I have run two 5K and two 10K races. I've also lost the 40 lbs of baby weight I gained plus another 50 lbs that had crept up on me over the years. Today, a 5K run is just my regular Tuesday run. Now, I've got my eyes on the prize - the Derby half marathon in April 2015 and then, in September 2015, this sprint triathlon that I have naively agreed to do. But more on that later.
Cheers to the New Year,
JS
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