Cowabunga Calf Care

Don't you love it when your muscles hurt the day after a workout?

It's a good pain ... letting you know that you did just enough to have a beneficial effect, but not so much that you can't get out of bed. It's a weird perversion for me, quite honestly. When I find the place/position that hurts the most, I take great pleasure in poking at it or moving just right to feel that little stab of soreness.

Admit it. You do it, too.

Yesterday I worked my calves. And all day today, I found ways to flex and stretch so that I could feel that twinge.

It's sick, right?

Calf Raises
In a perfect world, you have a board ... like a 1 x 4 ... placed flat on the floor. It's just something that allows you to get your toes slightly higher than your heels.

Place the balls of your feet square on the board, feet hip width apart, toes pointing straight forward. With weights in your hands, arms hanging straight down at your side, get up on your tippy toes, squeezing your calves at the top. Slowly and in a controlled way, lower your heels back down. Repeat 15 times.

Then, turn your toes outward, moving your heels closer together, so your feet now make a "V" shape. Raise and lower again, squeezing your calf muscles at the top of each rep. Repeat 15 times.

Lastly, turn your toes inward, pidgeon-toed. Raise and lower, squeezing at the top of each rep. Repeat 15 times.

By placing your feet in three different positions, you work slightly different parts of the muscle. I use 20 lb. weights, but you don't have to use any if you don't want to.

I am TOTALLY sure these symbols mean,
"Ouch, my calf hurts. But I like it." 

The Beauty of the 4:30 a.m. Run

Today was a busy day. I had to be to work by 7 a.m. and to a funeral by 10 a.m. That meant my normal 5:30 a.m. RIPPED class was out of the question. I also wasn't sure what time I'd be home and therefore if I'd have time to work out when I finally got back here.

So I set my alarm for 4:30 a.m., hoped for a restful, if short, night.

As sometimes happens, I woke up a few minutes ahead of the actual chime. As it not-as-often happens, I woke up ready to go. I geared up, grabbed my Rehydrate/Spark mix and headed to the treadmill.

The four miles flew by.

At a pace faster than normal, no less.

I like it when the house is quiet, when I feel "tough" for getting up early and kickin' it, when I have time to get my brain settled before the stress/emotion/frenzy of the day starts.

There's just something about knowing that I'm doing what's good for my body and good for my soul that makes the whole day better. Starting strong carries forward into the day, giving me my own little secret power to help get through whatever craziness comes my way.

I have said it before, and will say it again ...

The workout is the reward, not the punishment. You treat yourself well when you make time for you.

Thin. Fat. Happy?

I read this article and didn't know how I felt about it.

So I asked you to read it.

And I'm still not sure how I feel about it. Maybe that's the point.

In a nutshell, the author said thin did not equal happy. And fat did not equal sad. She said life was too short to obsess over being thin or fat.

I agree with all of that.

Mostly.

All I really know is me.

When I was fat, I was miserable. I pretended I wasn't, but I was. I didn't like me. Hell, I didn't look myself in the eyes in the mirror for years. That me, the old me, has a really difficult time believing anyone who lives uncomfortably is "happy."

For me, being fat prevented happy. The two could not exist together.

Fat, however, didn't cause unhappy. Fat was the symptom, not the cause. I was unhappy because I knew I was failing myself. I knew that I could do better. I knew that I wasn't treating myself well.

I was embarrassed to be that version of me because it wasn't who I was supposed to be. The me on the outside didn't match the me on the inside. It didn't matter how nice I was, how successful I was, how smart I was. I was unhappy. And fat.

As I got thinner, I found me. The two images, inside and outside, got closer together.

And, for a while, I found what I thought was happy. Happy because clothes fit. Happy because I wasn't winded when I climbed the stairs. Happy because I finally recognized the image in the mirror.

Looking back on it now, though, I know it wasn't "happy" that I was feeling.

It was pride. And satisfaction. And self-respect. Happy was the byproduct.

As you know, I've put on 15 pounds. I have moments when I struggle with the failure of it. There are times I look at my arm flaps and my saggy thighs and want to scream. How can I have been working on this for so very long and still have not completed it? It makes me unhappy.

And then there are times, like tonight, when I eat three Girl Scout Lemonade cookies and two Milanos and know my pants will fit tomorrow, that I am satisfied.

I like life with cookies. And chocolate. And an occasional drink. And potato chips. And cheese.

God, I love cheese.

I discovered that I also like making my body work when I run or lift.

I love feeling strong ... in mind, in spirit, in muscle.

So I will continue to make my body work. I will continue to eat cookies. And I will continue to learn to accept and appreciate the face that looks back at me in the mirror.

I doubt that I will ever be truly thin. I have never and will never live on a 1000 calorie a day diet. I am highly unlikely to log every morsel I put in my mouth or obsessively workout to burn off a cherry tomato. I'm too lazy for that.

But I have just recently started to wonder if this me is "good enough." Or at least, good enough for right now.

Because in the end, I think that's the key. If you know who you are, and you fit in your skin, that is enough.

That's what happy is.

The Training Begins

I'm on the road to my 2015 half marathon.

Well, not on the road literally, since the weather isn't cooperating. I'm on the treadmill, but you get the idea.

I got an 8-miler in on Sunday. It was slow ... rarely getting above a 5.5 mph pace because I wasn't sure I was ready for 8. But I got it done. Best of all, there were no ill side-effects today.

So that means if I add a minimum of a half-mile per week on my long run and tack on a few extra miles a week during my short runs, I should be in good shape for May 2.

It feels good to have a big red "X" on the calendar.

Explaining Endorphins to My Mother

I've talked before about how my mom walks every day. Usually twice around the block, for an admirable 2 miles.

She's about to turn 73 (and doesn't have a computer, so she'll never know I shared this information publicly) and opts for the "uphill" route. Because she's tough. It's a pretty decent hill, too.

The winter presents a challenge, of course. Snow, ice and cold are obvious issues. Because she lives on her own, she's very careful about being careful ... and does nothing that could end up with her falling. As such, she doesn't get to make her trek every day during the worst of the season. She tries to hit her treadmill, but absolutely hates it. So on the days it's just too miserable or unsafe to pound the pavement, she doesn't get her walk in.

She and I had some business to take care of this morning and we spent a little time in the car. The sun was beating in the windows, making it seem much warmer than it really was.

The sunshine reminded her of Monday. Remember Monday when it was warm and sunny?

"Oooooh! It was so nice out! I went out for my walk and it was warm and the sun was shining," she said, her fists shaking up near her shoulders in excitement. "I just felt so good when I got done! So good! Everything was just perfect!"

"It just feels so good to move. My body just needs to move," she said. She was smiling from ear to ear and all but bouncing up and down in the front passenger seat ... like a little kid, all full of energy just remembering it.

"That's the endorphins kicking in, Mom," I said.

"What's endorphins?" she asked.

"You know, those chemicals in your body that get released when you feel good. Little bursts that go from your muscles to your brain and back again to make you feel good all over," I said. And then I hesitate. On the tip of my tongue is this sentence:

"Like after sex."

But I can't say it. It's my mom.

"Ach," comes her German heritage. "Whatever you say," she responds dismissively as she does whenever she thinks I'm patronizing her.

And then the subject changes. Thank goodness.

My Cholesterol Coreography

As a part of my recent physical, I had a fasting cholesterol test. I got the results last week. 

I'm going to share them with you. Transparency is the name of the game here on Carsick Caravan. I'm also going to share what MY doctor said about ME and MY situation. YOUR doctor may view things differently in YOUR situation. (Can you tell I'm a little leery about this? I don't want anyone thinking that I'm offering medical advice, nor do I want 1000 people to tell me why my doctor is wrong or whatever. I love my doctor. You and your doctor must make the best plan for you.) 

So, here they are: 

 

A quick internet research on what those numbers mean had me a little concerned. From what I could tell, my overall cholesterol number was HIGH! Substantially higher than it was in 1998 when I weighed so much more than I do now. The experts of the internet said anything over 190 is cause for concern.

What the hell?

Offsetting that, the breakdowns looked OK. 

• My HDL, or "good" cholesterol was high and it went up. 
• My LDL, or "bad" cholesterol, was at 155. Online resources had differing opinions of what that meant.   
• My Trigycerides, the way fat is stored in the body, were 73. A high trigycerides level has been linked to a higher risk of coronary artery disease and anything less than 150 is considered "normal." I fell safely under that. 

So, to get a bit more information, I messaged my doc. (Can I say how much I LOVE being able to message her? So convenient! Thank you Dean MyChart.) She calmed my fears. 

First, she said she doesn't really even look at the overall number. Yes, my 246 is higher than the 212 of 1998. But part of the reason it's higher is that my "good" HDL went up. So the increase wasn't all bad news. In fact, she said it's sort of hard to increase your HDL ... and the fact that mine went up was a testament to the work I have put in to lose weight and get healthier.

Secondly, she said old guidelines would indicate medication at 160 LDL. New guidelines say 180. But the new guidelines also have a "risk calculation" that is considered. The calculation measures the risk of a vascular event (heart attack/stroke) over the next 10 years. It factors in your cholesterol numbers, age, gender, ethnicity, smoking status, blood pressure and presence of diabetes. 

It does not consider family history because that is a secondary factor when compared with smoking, high blood pressure and diabetes. Good news for me because my family history says this could be a problem in my branch of the tree. 

All that rolled up to a calculated risk level for me of 0.79%. My doc says that if the risk level is 7.5% or higher, she'd recommend treatment.

Whew. No treatment required and while first blush worried me, I'm feeling much better now.

Am I still cutting back on a few things as a result? You can bet your bippy.

Eating Out is the Kiss of Death

Ugh.

I ate lunch out today. That makes it the fourth day in a row that I have eaten at a restaurant.

On Saturday, I had breakfast AND dinner out.

Get a load of this: Chinese, fish fry, pancakes, fast food salad with ice cream cone chaser, then Chinese again. No surprise my rings are snug. Can you say, "Sodium, much?" I would add, "Calories, fat, cholesterol, fried, much?"

In my strict losing days, restaurant meals were few and far between. It's so much easier to control portion size at home and it's much easier to maximize caloric value. I'm a big believer in volume ... I like to eat a lot. When I am at a restaurant, I can't ensure that the volume is low in calories or high in good nutrition calories.

I also tend to drink diet cola when I'm out and that doesn't help anything.

Our schedule has been a bit hectic and unusual this past week, hence the eating out. But truly ... that's no excuse. Good choices can be made just about anywhere. Here's how:

1. Choose a good restaurant. Pick someplace that you know has healthy options. Have a few go-to places that are safe, even if they're not exciting. Remember, food is fuel first. Your first goal is to put nutrition in so you can continue to operate the way you want to. We all get a "taste" for a burger or pizza or a big pile of fried crab rangoon. But they offer nothing that serves your workout tomorrow.

2. Make a conscious decision before you crack open that menu. Say something like, "I'm not going to make a dumb choice," out loud. Doing these things, declaring your intentions, will help solidify your commitment to staying on course.

3. Look for clean, simple nutrition. Grilled, baked, roasted protein. No heavy, gloppy sauces. Colorful vegetables vs. empty starches like potatoes and grains. Check the appetizer section and make the shrimp cocktail or grilled shrimp skewer your whole dinner. At a fast food joint like Culver's, check the soup (broth-based not cream) or chili. The portions are smaller and it can make a meal.

4. Don't assume a salad is the best choice. It's not if it's filled with croutons, cheese, candy-coated nuts, dried cranberries, fried chicken tenders and creamy salad dressings ... or if the portion size is enormous. Ask for dressings on the side and use 1/4 of what they give you in a packet or cup. And don't let that "fat free" label fool you. A simple vinaigrette is best ... the most flavor for the least amount of actual dressing.

5. Watch portion size. Share a single entree or take half home. Or just put 3/4 of your fries on your husband's plate before you accidentally eat your way through most of them.

6. Drink water. Ask for lemon or lime if that makes it more exciting. It's cheaper, too! Can't stand the thought of plain, old water? Club soda will add bubbles and fun.

7. Eat slowly. Savor what you chose. Eat the veggies first so that if you do manage to start to feel full, you can leave the last piece of fried fish on the plate. (True story. Friday night. Salamone's. Man, their fish is good! But three pieces are just way too much!)

I Want Bling ... and Bathrooms!

I spent tonight looking for my next half marathon. These are the criteria:

1. Must be before mid-June
2. Must be within 150 miles from home
3. Must be Jim-friendly (ample race-day parking, easy for him to manuever as a spectator)
4. Must be big enough to be "nice," small enough to be friendly and manueverable (no Chicago with 10,000 runners), and one I haven't done before
5. Must have more than 4 aid stations/bathroom stops
6. Must be relatively flat
7. Must be visually entertaining (i.e. not all country roads, not all city streets)
8. Must not include 6 million turns/corners or too many short stretches
9. Must have a cool logo and website
10. And, most importantly, must have a cool medal

I'm still looking. I might be asking for a bit too much.

What are your plans?

Student Drives the Teacher

I heard from New Runner this past week. She had big news.

In case you don't remember, our friend New Runner started running a little over a year ago, not so long before we ran the Jingle Bell 5K in December 2014. Then this past Halloween, we did the Haunted Hustle 5K in Madison ... and she ran the whole dang deal for her first "complete" 5K.

Her big news?

She hit 4 miles of uninterrupted running this past week! Four miles!

Isn't that great? What I love most about it is that she sounds so freaking proud of herself in the best way possible. There's a smile in her voice. And, honestly, I think she's a little surprised that she has done it, though I'm not.  I've been telling her all along that she can.

My rationale? If she could do 3, she could do 4 ... it was only a 33% increase. So much "easier" than going from 1 mile to 2, right? What's better yet is that if she can do 4, she can totally do 5 ... because that's only a 25% increase. Each mile from here on out is a smaller challenge. Well, at least for a few more miles.

I keep telling her that 5 or 6 is completely doable from where she is. In fact, it's probably doable right now.

But here's what she doesn't know.

She's been prodding me to do better, too. The student is now driving the teacher.

As I hit my treadmill on Sunday, I was thinking ...

1) It's been a while since I've done a long run. I've had some long walks, and a few longish walk/run combos. But I've not gone over 4 miles in about a month. I'm due.

2) If New Runner can go 4 miles, I can go 5, right?

And then I got nervous. What if I can't go 5?

So I opted for intervals ... 1 minute at 50% pace, 1 minute at 75% pace and 1 mile at 100% pace. Lather, rinse, repeat.

After 63 minutes, with some futzing around of pace to increase it toward the end, I hit 6 miles.

All running.

Whew! I can still do it.

Thanks for the push, New Runner. I needed it.