Don't Waste It

Ever have one of those days where everything goes perfectly? I was lucky enough to have one today and I am still grinning from ear to ear. What I have learned in my 45 years is that these wonderful gifts are few and far between and as such, they should be treasured and glorified. 

Why? Because it's amazing how one good thing can grow into another. And then another. And so on. And so on. And so on ...

For the first time in weeks, I got an uniterruped, rock solid 8 hours of sleep last night. It was so great! No alarm. No too-much-sleep fogginess. No wasted morning by waking up too late. I was happy to get up and I was ready to take full advantage of this bucket of wonderful.

So I put it to good use with a lovely 4-mile hotel treadmill first thing this morning.

Which left me with a full tank of energy for what turned into a spectacular day. I almost can't wait to do it again tomorrow.

Important Things to Know About a Duathlon

1. It's spelled DUATHLON. Not DUALTHON as I had it in previous posts.
2. There is something called a "tri-short" that is the standard  uniform. It's like a bike short, but with thinner padding so it's not so uncomfortable to run in.
3. There are rules for what can and can't happen in the transition area. You can't be ON your bike, you must have your helmet strap latched before you leave it/get on the bike, you can't unstrap your helmet until  you are off your bike.
4. Some transition areas have assigned spots like this one did, and some are a first-come-first-serve sort of deal. So I expect there's a great deal of strategy (and maybe fist-fighting) to get the best spots.
5. I imagine the bigger the race, the more difficult the transition area gets. I'm also sure there are other rules I don't understand yet ... but that I might break if I try this again and end up in that cage when there's a lot of traffic. Some people appeared to be very exact/persnickety/regimented about how their stuff was placed. For those serious competitors, a few seconds make a big difference, and I bet they practice this stuff.
6. I was the only one I heard communicating to the other bikers. When I'm passing someone, I say, "On your left" so they know I'm coming. When I first notice a car coming from behind, I yell, "Car back" so they know something is coming. These are the rules my biking brother-in-law taught me and I suspect others were using them, too ... just not the people I was with.
7. Clip shoes vs. transition time? I get that clip shoes can make you pedal more efficiently and therefore faster. But it takes to put them on/take them off ... twice. In my case, it doesn't matter that much, so I am OK sticking to my pedal cages. But I was definitely in the minority.
8. Most of the bikes were road bikes. There were quite a few hybrid bikes toward the back of the pack with me.
9. Always check the standings. You just never know when you might win a medal.

Running in Diapers, a Flat Tire and ... a Medal

5 a.m. Jim's alarm goes off so he can get in the woods before the sun is up for a little bow hunting. My alarm is set for 6, but there's no getting back to sleep now. I start to wish I had hit the hay considerably earlier than the 11:30 p.m reality. I spend 30 minutes rolling over the list of things I thought I needed in my head. I'd gotten everything ready before I went to bed, but I remember GLOVES (it's going to be cold) and am thankful I had the time to take stock.

5:15 a.m. Jim comes to give me a kiss goodbye (he'll be gone when I get home) and tells me he pumped up my bike tires. Of course, I remembered last night at 11 p.m. that I hadn't checked them. He's nice.

5:30 a.m. I'm not sleeping. Might as well get up. I put on long running tights, a sleeveless tank, a long sleeve tech shirt, a Bondi band, and my winter running shoes. I know it's cold, but I'm not too worried about the run ... you warm up when you run. The bike could be breezy ... hence the more wind-proof shoes. I also added a zip-up wicking fabric coat.

6:30 a.m. Peanut butter sandwich thin and Cherry Coke Zero in hand, I load my bike, along with a backpack that contains my bike shorts, bike water bottle, running water bottle, gloves and sunglasses into my car and off I go. A mile down the road, I realize I forgot my bike helmet and turn around to go back for it.

7:40 a.m.-ish I pull into the very familiar Ixonia Fireman's Hall parking lot and it looks nothing like it has ever looked the other 984 times I've been there for family Christmases, family reunions, softball tournaments and wedding receptions. The music is already pumping, there's a guy talking non-stop on a microphone and there are a lot of cars with bikes. I park, take a quick walking tour around the joint to orient myself and then head to the registration trailer to give them my money, sign the waiver and pick up my timing band. The guy yammering on the mike tells everyone that it goes on your left ankle. Guess he serves a purpose afterall. Then I Google those Duathlon FAQs and learn that I'm to take everything I need for the bike to the transition area and put it on the ground by my bike.

This is what the transition area looks like from the outside. I'll explain it more tomorrow. 

8 a.m. Off to the transition area I go. I hang my bike in the space that has a number matching my bib number and I set my helmet, sunglasses, gloves and a windbreaker on the ground near my bike. I figure if I'm cold on the run, I might don the windbreaker for the bike. I look around. Some people have a towel with items precisely arranged on it. Looks like most people will be changing from running shoes to clip bike shoes. (I won't ... I use dorky "basket" pedals.) Someone even has a 5-gallon bucket ... to sit on, I assume, as he/she changes shoes. Shaving seconds off of transitions is apparently very important.

My bike is the one in the middle. My helmet and backpack are on the ground. Looks likethe cool kids hang their helmets on their bikes. 

8:05 a.m. Now I have 55 minutes to kill. I make several trips to the restroom. I walk around to warm up. I stretch. Mostly I wait. I laugh at the guy on the trainer warming up. I shouldn't. But I just don't understand the "seriousness" of these things sometime. Even if he wins every time, it's not like he's going to be in the Olympics. So, in my mind, he's just a dude running a weekend race. I do, however, understand wanting to be better ... to improve your own time. So I should probably just shut up.

8:45 a.m. They start lining up the elite runners in the first wave. As you can guess, I am not one.  I decide that I am going to wear my bike shorts over my tights and quickly run back to my car to put them on. Running in them feels like running in diapers, but having them on will make for a faster transition.

9 a.m. The elite leave and then they start taking groups of 50 entrants (by bib number) at a time for a staggared start. We're all wearing a chip, so the clock starts when you do. My wave is the very last one. That's what you get for signing up the day of the event. I AM the back of the pack.

9:05-ish a.m. We're off for our two miles. My knees are not feeling great, but two miles is doable. I pass a few people and settle into my cautious pace. Since I've never done this before, I'm unsure of how much to hold back or if I even should. The course winds by the houses of TWO aunts (neither were home) and we're back at the transition area before I know it.

Reminder that you cannot ride your bike in the transition area. I just like the sign because it says "MOUNT" in all caps. Remember Beevis and Butthead, heh?

9:23-ish a.m. Now inside the transition area. Helmet on and off we go. My legs feel surprisingly OK. My goal is to pass 17 people in 17 miles. And I have 9 of them in the bag around mile 12 with a big, gettable group in front of me, when ...

10-ish a.m. Mile 12, back tire feels wonky going up a hill. I shift through the gears, wiggle waggle on the road, test the brakes. I try to figure out what's going on. And then I notice that a few people I have passed start passing me back. What the hell? I'm pedaling just as hard, but I'm going too slow. And then I hear it. Thwap. Thwap. Thwap. Flat tire.

10:05-ish a.m. I start walking my bike along Highway E as everyone and their dog (their three legged, blind dog, for the record) passes me. "You OK?" they ask. "Flat tire. No tube," I say. "Sag wagon's coming," they cheerfully observe. Grrrrrr.

10:24-ish a.m. The sag wagon has indeed arrived. I probably walked a mile before he got to me. He has an injured or over-exerted rider inside the van who appears to be OK. Sag Wagon Guy is a darling man. And he proceeds to give me the full You Tube demo of how to change a tube. I nod and throw in some "I sees" and "Ahs" and "Oh, I get its" in there as if I'm really paying attention and all I can think about is how I'm going to ride around the parking lot, come in the back way, load my bike and get out of there with a DNF (Did Not Finish). By 10:30 or so, I'm back on my way again, just over three miles to go to the transition area.

See ... "DISMOUNT" is just not as funny.

10:45-ish a.m. I round the corner toward the transition area and I know that I won't just pack it up and go home. As late as I am, there is still a full contingent of cheer-ers on the course, even though I can hear them giving awards away for the top finishers over the PA system. (I know now that there was ONE person behind me at this point. One.) I hop off my bike before the line on the pavement, jog it into the transition area, take off my helmet and start running. I vow to pass a few people ... because I didn't get to do it like I wanted to on the bike. And pass them I do. Four of them.

A little after 11 a.m. I cross the finish line. I pack up my bike, pick up my medal and I'm in the car by 11:19 a.m.

It was a good day.

I Didn't DNF

I didn't DNF. That's the best I can say about my race. I wanted to DNF. I made up my mind to DNF, but I didn't. I'll give you a better play-by-play tomorrow, but here are the high points:

• I think I could really like this duathlon format. "Just" running two miles and biking 17 and then running another short two seems so doable. The best finishers did it in just over an hour. It took me two. But now that I understand how it works, I think I could trim some good time off my run and Lord knows my next biking expedition will be better. However, next time I might actually train.  
• I had a flat. Since I'd never had one before, I didn't recognize what it was at first. Then I heard the unmistakeable Thwap-Thwap-Thwap and knew instantly. All I could think was (cover sensitive ears) F. U. C. K! I was passing people ... I was actually having a good time ... and now I'm done. I figured there was no point in crying, though, and just started walking my bike down the road, waiting for the sag wagon. I think I lost between 20 and 30 minutes overall. I was hoping the guy would just throw my bike in the back of the van and drive me in. But he didn't. He changed my tube and sent me on my way. There was exactly ONE person behind me at that point. One. 
• I had every intention of just bagging the race, blowing by the transition area and going straight to my car without even attempting the second run. But as I pulled into town, there was a full contingent of course personnel and finishers lining the final leg ... cheering. "You got this! Good job! You're doing great!" they yelled. And I knew right then and there that NOT finishing wasn't an option. If they cared enough to stand there and wait all that time, I had to do my part. So I ran. I didn't run fast. But I ran. And I passed four people. 

There's a few lessons in there somewhere. Among them: Train properly. Learn to change a tube. Carry an extra tube. The race isn't always about the time. Knowing you can just "go do it" on a whim is pretty awesome. 

Oh. And finish. Always finish. 

Did I mention that I got a medal? Top six places in each age group got hardware. I was fourth. 

(Fourth ... out of four. But no one besides you and I need to know that last part, OK?) I'm proud of it just the same. 

What Are You Doing On Sunday?

Got weekend plans?

I think I'm going to enter a duathlon.

I stumbled across it while picking through Active.com last night and I just can't stop thinking about it.

It's a run/bike event, in a community near and dear to my heart. And I would like to know if I can do it.

The course is in Ixonia and the run goes right past my aunt's house. It's a 2-mile run, then a 17-mile bike ride, then another 2-mile run. It would likely take me 2 hours and 20 minutes-ish, given my current very slow miles, assuming I'd walk some. That's not significantly different than the time it takes for my normal long weekend workout.

Of course, I could just do the same thing in my neighborhood and skip the entry fee.

But that just wouldn't be the same, would it?

Race starts at the Fireman's Hall, 9 a.m. Registration from 7 to 8:30 a.m. ... just in case you want to join me.



http://www.greatlakesduathlonseries.com/page/show/733556-lake-country-duathlon

Cheesy-ish Broccoli and Cauliflower

My girl texted last night to say she was coming for dinner. I was so happy to hear it that I didn't give a second thought to the fact that I didn't have any "mom-ish, home-cooked-meal" kind of food in the house.

Somehow, she and Jim are simply not content to eat brussel sprouts, pickles and leftover salmon for supper.

Couple that with the fact that I had R.I.P.P.E.D until 6 p.m., which made getting to the grocery store impossible if we wanted to eat before 8 p.m. (And I NEED to eat before 8 p.m.!), and I had a small conundrum on my hands.

So I finished my class, drove home, flew in the garage, opened the fridge and freezer, stared inside and hoped for divine intervention.

I got it.

Chicken breasts previously grilled  in the freezer! Yay! Toss 'em in the microwave and throw out some farmer's market BBQ sauce and that's a main dish!

Bag of frozen broccoli and cauliflower, tub of reduced fat garden cream cheese and real Parmesan ... Ta da! Nuke the veg, throw in a couple of tablespoons of the savory cream cheese and grate some parm on top. Voila! Side dish extraordinaire!

They BOTH said it was delicious.

And I could see how versatile it was ...

Chunk up the chicken and toss it in a skillet with with some mushrooms, onions and the broccoli/cauliflower combo.

Or add some whole wheat pasta and bit more cream cheese.

The truth is ... they ate it all and I didn't get any. Good thing I had the foresight to make some brussel sprouts for me. Yum.

Truthfully, Regretably

I had a small meltdown Monday morning.

I put on a pair of capris that I've been wearing for three years, a pair that's on the big end of the spectrum in my closet, and they were snug. Too snug to wear.

Enter Mac truck.

Ker-WHAM!

I stood there and started screaming.

"Are you happy now? Do you know what you're doing? What the hell is going on with you? WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?"

My mind was flipping through images faster than I could process.

I remembered the first time I wore these pants. It was the day of our annual Air Show party and I had just gotten under 170 pounds. I was feeling so skinny. That very morning I ran 5 miles non-stop on my treadmill for the first time ever and I was flying high, ready to take on the world.

I remembered how it felt when I broke 160 ... a number I never thought possible. I felt so powerful. So strong.

I remembered how those capris got put on a back shelf in my closet because they were just too big to wear ... they didn't "show off" my new body enough.

And then I remembered all of the clothes I've been avoiding all summer because I knew they don't fit. Like the black pants I was wearing the day my dad went into the hospital ... the same pair I wore to his visitiation. They, too, were essentially too big then and I secretly loved how loose they were on my hips. I tried them on once this summer and couldn't wear them. So I folded them back up and put them back on the shelf as if they didn't exist.

My head started reeling with all of those old feelings of terror and disappointment and self-loathing.

"FAILING! You're failing. You got lucky, managed to lose a little. But you obviously didn't learn anything and you are not capable of staying on top of this. You are a failure. A sham. A poser. A complete fraud. You don't have what it takes to win. People are laughing at you because they know you're failing. They can see what's going on. You're not hiding this from anyone."

Pffffffffffffffttt. Balloon deflated.

Tears sprang into my eyes as I looked at my closet. I could asses instantly the stuff that fit and the stuff that didn't.

And then I shook my head. I shook and I shook and I shook.

I'm NOT the same person I was then. I know how to do this. I have to figure out why and I have to fix it.

In the end, it's not about pants. It's not about what anyone else is saying. It's not even about the voices in my head.

It's about me. Making decisions that are good for me. Making decsions that make my life better.

I have been on this stupid merry-go-round for a year. I have publicly declared on this blog that I'm going to start over, do it right, get back on track too many times to count.

This is not another one of those times.

I'm pissed at me. I'm tired of complaining about it. I'm embarrassed.

And none of that matters.

Exercising my guts out doesn't matter if I'm not eating right.

It's time to stop lying to myself about how I'm eating. Or why I'm eating.

This is a choice. It always has been.

Read it here: It's a Choice

Olivia, Jane ... and Miss Daisy?

Well, I completed my first R.I.P.P.E.D class.

I didn't die. I didn't trip. I didn't even fart out loud.

I did modify a lot of the bouncy, side-to-side, impact stuff. Which means I ended up marching in place while everyone else did fun, dancy, high-knees kind of moves, but that's OK.

I liked that it was a combination of Just Dance and Boxing. With a little Jillian and Strength Training thrown in. All things I like. All things I can do.

In fact, I started with the 5-lb. hand weights today and I might up it to 8's on Wednesday.

I think the instructor thinks I'm wimping out by not doing it all the "right" way. But I just don't feel like going to the emergency room again. And I'm saving my high-impact activity for running. Because I love that best. (Five miles Saturday morning! Woot! I've been paying for it for two days, but it's worth it.)

In the end, it's going to be two nights a week of extra calorie burn. Couple that with the one less hour I can spend eating ... win-win! Plus it shakes up my routine a bit and my body always seems to react well to that.

So, Olivia Newton John, I do see you ... and your friend Jane Fonda ... in this little adventure. Thankfully, there's no leotard required.

(P.S. You can still buy this on Amazon ...)

Tomorrow, I Start to Get R.I.P.P.E.D

In an effort to boost my calorie burn and inspiration level, I signed up for a fitness class at work. It starts tomorrow at 5 p.m. and it's called R.I.P.P.E.D.

http://rippedplanet.com/

The last "class" I took was in Fort Atkinson, circa 1989. It was an aerobics class at that little building between the bank near Sentry and Belmont ... by the railroad tracks. It's on the bike trail now ... and back then I think it was called Fitness Express?

I bought cobalt blue tights and a leotard-ish thing ... it was white, hot pink, black and cobalt. I was all set and ready to roll. I showed up early. I paid my money for the X-week session. And ...

I hated it. Never went back for a second class.

I sure hope this is different.

Full report tomorrow.

Small, Constant Eats

I'm doing a bit of experimenting with my eating during the day. And so far, I like it.

Normally, I eat my peanut butter bagel and fruit (usually grapes) in the car on my way to work. Then I try not to think about food until noon. Occasionally, that works, but usually it doesn't.

Then at noon, I eat raw veg and something else ... sometimes it's popcorn or a cup of vegetable-based soup. Sometimes it's two hard boiled egg whites or a string cheese or a yogurt. On occasion it's a trip to Subway for a veggie sub on whole wheat or a chopped chicken salad.

And then I try not to think about food again until dinner. Which, again, doesn't work.

In other words, I chew a lot of gum. And drink a lot of Diet Coke.

Here's what I'm doing instead.

Breakfast is the same. I like the routine of eating in the car. (Yes, it puts a lot of crumb in my car. So sue me.)

When I get to work, I put my lunch bag with veg, yogurt and apple in the fridge. I stash some nuts in my desk drawer.

Then I graze all day.

I eat when I get hungry.

Which sounds simple, right? So logical. Can't believe I didn't think of it before.

I usually want something around 9:30 a.m. So I grab a dozen pistachios. When my stomach starts growling at 11:30, I go get my raw veg. That usually keeps me satisfied for a while.

A little while later, I head back to the fridge and grab the yogurt. Walk back to my desk and eat it.

Then around 3 p.m., I remember I have an apple and go get that.

The benefits of this are many:
1. I feel like I'm eating all day long. This makes me happy. But my overall calorie intake is defined/limited.
2. By spacing it out, I give my brain time to figure out that my stomach is full. I feel satisfied longer.
3. I get some extra steps in going back and forth to the break room. It's not a lot, but it gets me off my keister. (This is also the benefit of drinking more ... extra trips to the restroom.)

In fact, it's working so well, that I'm trying a version of it at dinnertime.

How do you eat?

Late Night Snacks

My goal, every night, is to not eat after dinner.

My truth, every night, is that I want something sweet and then something salty and then something crunchy, and then something sweet again.

These are some of my go-to late night snacks.

• Red seedless grapes
• Watermelon
• Apple and peanut butter
• Bread and butter pickle chips
• Greek yogurt
• Hot cocoa
• Raw veg and dip
• Baked Scoops and salsa (Put a handful of chips in a small bowl and stop when they're done -- don't eat out of the bag!)

What are your favorites? 

Gaining Weight While Training?

It just seems like it shouldn't be possible. You have made the commitement to working out. You're getting your 45 minutes of cardio at least three or four times a week. You've added some strength training because you know it's good for you. 

You've gotten better with your overall eating. It's "cleaner" in general. Less processed crap. More real food. Whole grains. Good oil. 

And yet the scale isn't budging. Or maybe, heaven forbid, it's even climbed a couple. 

It can be so frustrating. And so disappointing. 

But don't dispair. We've all been there. I found this article and I love what it says. It references running, but the principles apply to whatever workout you do. 

http://www.bioendurance.com/blog/i-trained-all-summer-for-the-marathon-and-havent-lost-a-pound.htm

I really believe that losing weight is MUCH MORE about how you eat than how you exercise. What is your experience? 

The Difference Between Can and Should

Can I eat a whole frozen pizza? Yes. Should I? No.

Can you drive your car at 55 mph between my bike and the center/yellow line? Yes. Should you? No.

Can you skip your workout today because you're tired/busy/not feeling it? Yes. Should you? No.

Can you lie to yourself and declare that eating right and moving more is too hard? Yes. Should you? No.

Can you think it doesn't matter ... that you don't matter ... and that youre' not work the effort? Yes. Should you? No.

Can you let the fear and doubt win? Yes. Should you? No.

Can you find a way to do this ... for you? Yes. Should you? YES.

Even Good Girls Break the Rules

I made a good effort this week.

I ate pretty well. I rode my bike to work twice, in an effort to "make up" for the couple of weeks I had to skip out on my one-day-a-week promise. I dragged my hind end out of bed on the other days and hit my treadmill downstairs. I got two weight lifting days in.

I wasn't perfect, but I did OK. Which led to a weekend of debauchery.

Friday night, I broke the "Don't drink pointless calories" rule. I had a few beers. Three to be exact ... and they knocked me on my keister. (Yup, that was me. In bed by 8:30 p.m. Lightweight.)

Saturday, I broke the "Don't keep baked goods in the house" rule by baking cookies. Delicious mint chocolate chip cookies. Oh my word ... they were so yummy. Thank goodness I could take them to my mom's today and LEAVE them there.

Sunday's broken rule was a bit different.

Sorry, Mr. Farmer. I trespassed. Into your corn field. I was in the middle of my 11 walking miles, too far from home to, you know, answer Mother Nature's call in an appropriate and ladylike manner.

Thank goodness for rural roads, not much traffic and very tall corn stalks.

Look out, world. This bad ass rule breaker is on the loose. Alert the authorities! Hide your children!

Or, maybe, try not to yawn.

No One Said You Have to Run

I'm liking this Jingle Bell event more and more. GaryAllenFan and MarthaMac are in. HRGirl is not officially committing, but I'm sure she'll be there. My sister hasn't made a peep, but I'm hopeful she'll grab a couple of ladies from her office or a neighbor and join us.

And I want you to hear me loud and clear:

NO ONE SAID YOU HAVE TO RUN.

Plus, I guarantee that you ALL can walk 3.1 miles RIGHT NOW.

That being said, it would still be wise to put on a couple of miles if you want to make sure you're ready. HR Girl posted this link to a 7-week Mayo Clinic plan that helps you get ready to walk, run, or walk/run the 3.1 miles. I'm reposting here: http://www.mayoclinic.com/images/pdfs/fsm14_5K_run.pdf

The "official" 9-week Couch-to-5K (or C25K, if you want to sound cool) plan is here:  http://www.coolrunning.com/engine/2/2_3/181.shtml. It, too, uses a walk/run interval process. What I like about this one is that you ONLY walk/run three times a week for 30 minutes each session. And those 30 minutes include a 5-minute warm up and 5-minute cool down. It's easy to fit into busy schedules.

Can't get outside? Here's a treadmill plan: http://www.c25k.com/c25k_treadmill.html. See, no excuses.

And I'm hoping GaryAllenFan or Amber will repost the version of C25K they used for their first 5K. I know they put it in a comment on a previous post, but I can't find it right now.

All of these plans use the basic formula of alternating running and walking where you continually decrease the time you spend walking and increase the time you spend running. But don't get too worried about all of that. Do what you can do. And try to do better the next week or the next workout. Don't have a watch? Use the distance between mailboxes or telephone poles or driveways.

Most of all, remember this: NO ONE SAID YOU HAVE TO RUN. In fact, no one said you even have to walk fast. You're not doing this to "win" something. (I mean, you can if you want, but I'd be disappointed every time if that was my goal, so I just don't bother.)

You see, the race isn't really about the race at all. It's about the training. It's the training that makes you strong. It's the process that makes you healthier. Walking 30 minutes a day, three times a week is GOOD FOR YOU, whether you ever enter a race or not.

The race is the celebration ... the victory lap. It's the fun payoff for your hard work. And in this case, you get to do it in a pair of antlers, with some fun chicks like us and there's a cupcake or beer (or both?) afterward.

What could be better than that?

P.S. Just in case you didn't understand this: NO ONE SAID YOU HAVE TO RUN.

Issuing a Challenge

How about a fun, everyone-can-do-it event we can do together?

http://www.kintera.org/faf/home/default.asp?ievent=1070719

On Dec. 14, there's a Jingle Bells 5K and 10K (that's 3.1 miles and 6.2 miles) run/walk in Madison. Proceeds support the Arthritis Foundation.

I'm going to raffle off ONE FREE ENTRY FEE. If you're willing to commit to the date, reply here or message me or call me or email me or whatever. I'll take everyone who says, "I'm in," throw your names in a hat and pick one as the winner of a free entry.

My offer stands to you, faithful readers of CC, and ANYONE you'd like to share this with. If we get more than 20 names in the hat, I'll pony up A SECOND FREE ENTRY. Grab your mom, your sister, your high school physics teacher ... I'd love to meet them all!

The cool part of this race is that you get to dress silly if you'd like to. Plus, the cause is great, you get a free Tshirt and it will be completely awesome if it's snowing like crazy!

DON'T WORRY if you want to walk the 5k! I promise you will not have to do whatever distance you choose alone! If enough of us commit to doing this, we'll make sure there's a "buddy" for every distance/effort/pace. I will be the official cheerleader and promise to wear antlers.

And maybe, just maybe, we'll find a slice of pie (or a beer) afterward?

Mindless Nibbling

Do you know how many calories you consume each day in mindless nibbling?

• The eating you do as you make dinner ... tasting for seasoning, "tidying" up the ugly pieces when you're chopping or assembling, scarfing down the remaining two spoonfuls when you go to wash the dishes.
• The grab-snacking you do on your way past the candy dish or pantry ... for me it's shoving a couple of pretzels in my mouth before I head to my workout room out of habit. 
• The "just-a-bite" noshing you do, telling yourself that since you're not eating the whole cupcake, it doesn't count . Do you lick the spoon when you make brownies, but then refuse to eat an actual brownie? I do. 

It's exactly that kind of eating that's killing me right now.

I grab a handful of crackers here, a piece of chocolate there, just a few chips when the urge strikes me.

When I sit down and add it all up at the end of the day, I'm taking in an additional 200-500 calories from sun-up to sun-down.

I can't out-exercise that kind of consumption. Which means it's time to change the habit.

Eat when you're hungry. Think about what you're shoving in your mouth before you actually put it there. Decide if it's worth the extra 30 minutes on the treadmill to bring you back to net neutral.

Remember, your hand doesn't find it's way to your mouth by itself. Your brain is the hardest muscle to train, but it's possible.

Excuses are Crap ... And Diana Nyad is a Rockstar

You know it and I know it. And there's proof in the world today:

http://www.cnn.com/2013/09/02/world/americas/diana-nyad-cuba-florida-swim/index.html?hpt=hp_t1

That's right. 64-year-old Diana Nyad completed a 53-hour, 103-mile swim from Cuba to Florida today.

It was her 5th attempt. She first failed in 1978 when she was a mere 29.

Let that roll over you.

• 64-years-old. AARP first contacted her 14 years ago. 
• 53 hours. That's two sunrises, two sunsets and a bit more. 
• 103 miles. SWIMMING IN THE FREAKING OCEAN. With sharks and jellyfishes and waves and currents and goodness knows what else. 
• And she FAILED four times before. 

I don't even know where to begin. I have no idea how you train to get your body to that place ... at any age. I have even less comprehension of how you get your mind locked in to allow this to happen. What on God's green earth do you do to keep yourself busy for 53 hours, knowing such a thing has never been done before and knowing that you have failed, several times, before? How do you drive on past pain, complete and total exhaustion, quieting that roar in your head that says, "QUIT NOW!"?

Just goes to show you that excuses are complete and total crap. Because in the end, they're just lies you tell yourself.

Don't believe me? The next time you think you can't possibly manage 30-minutes of cardio, or the next time I whine about being sick, we should remind each other to go ask Diana Nyad what she thinks of our excuses.

I'm pretty sure that tough bitch would have some choice words for both of us.

(After she gets done taunting all Ironman finishers, that is. In my fantasy world, every boastful Ironman finisher should have to walk past her. Especially those that are under 30 years old. All she has to do is hold up a sign on a stick that says, "Hey Ironman ... stroke this.")