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...

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

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

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

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

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