Sunday, June 28, 2015

Conversation During Today's Punishment Workout

I had a fun weekend. Lots of time with friends. A couple of celebrations. And an early morning drive to Dubuque today with my mom to get her a couple of hours at the Diamond Jo Casino. 

Which meant I skipped my normal workout this morning. You see, I have this radio call-in thing for work every Sunday morning. It's at 7:30 a.m. and my choice is to work out before it or after it. Since last night's celebration was a wedding reception, getting up super early this morning wasn't that appealing. Especially since I woke up extra early yesterday to ride my bike into 6:30 a.m. RIPPED. Two weekend mornings at 5 a.m. is just not fun. 

So that means I had to do something this afternoon to make up for the skipped workout. I call it The Punishment Workout. It's got to be something awful enough to prevent me from wanting to skip again anytime soon. So I picked one of the things I hate most: Weeding.

Why do I hate weeding? Mostly because it's pointless. They just grow back. And it's hot. And sweaty. And dirty. And you have to bend over. I really hate bending over. 

This is how it went down:  

"I hate weeding," I said. "Though it's better when we do it together. It goes faster."

"Yeah," Jim says. "These clover-things suck. They're hard to pull because you can't find the source." 

We pull. And pull. And pull. There's no dilly dallying because neither one of us wants to look like the wuss. Thankfully the sun isn't blazing down and the ground is soft. But it's still a pain in the ass ... or more specifically, in the back. 

With the front done and half of the back flower beds complete, this happens:

"This is precisely why we should have had kids of our own, you know," I say. 

"Yeah, then we could tell them to get out here and take care of this shit," he laughs. "'Get out there and weed those flower beds you little bastards. If you want supper, you'd better get out there an bust a sweat,'" 

I'm giggling, knowing he'd probably not call our kids little bastards. To their face. Or maybe I'm giggling because he would. The thing is our kids would probably laugh at him doing so. 

"It's not too late. We can adopt," he suggests. 

At this point, I'll do just about anything to get out of this task. "We don't have to tell the adoption agency WHY we want to get a couple of them, right?" I ask. 

"Nope," he says. 

I'm still considering it. 

Thursday, June 25, 2015

Good Genes: A.K.A. Dragging My 73-Year-Old Mother Around Chicago

So, this is an open letter to all you 30-somethings, 40-somethings, 50-somethings who think you are too out of shape, weak, hurt, malformed, injured, just plain unable to do any sort of cardio exercise:

My 73-year-old mother covered more than 7 miles at full speed in downtown Chicago on Monday.

In flip flops.

Any more excuses?
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Mom and I hopped aboard the Chicago Fun Day tour of the Windy City. A luxury motorcoach dropped us off at Navy Pier and the day was ours to do what we wanted, knowing the bus would pick us up at a predetermined spot later.

Since the day was rainy and thick, we didn't stay long at Navy Pier. The big ferris wheel wasn't running, so there was very little reason to stick around. Instead, we headed to Michigan Avenue.

We started at Water Tower Place and marched all over the 7 floors. Then we headed south, stopping at the Tribune Building and the DuSable Bridge to take in a Chicago Architecture Cruise. After 75 minutes on the water, we continued our southern march to Millennium Park. She didn't know what to make of the Bean.

This is us. Yes, I have a coat tied around my waist. She insisted I take one along
on an 80-degree day. Because she's my mom, I listened. Nevermind that I'm 47.

We then trekked back north, making a few stops and side trips off of Michigan, eventually landing at the corner of Rush and Superior.

Not only did she put on the miles, in many instances, she was setting the pace. She puts her little head down and goes.

She did admit on the way home that her feet were starting to hurt.

Damn flip flops.
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I sure hope I have inherited a few of those genes.

And while she may not know it, she has given me something even better. She's given me an example of what "growing old" should look like. She knows that you can do what you set your mind to. She knows the key to living to her target 100 is to keep moving.

Thanks, Mom.

There she is, Big City Mama. She also has a coat
tied around her waist, of course. She wore it when
we stopped for ice cream. The AC was too cold.
And you'll see I'm not lying about the flip flops. 

P.S. I took the following day off from exercise. It was my rest day. She mowed her 1-acre lawn with a push mower.


Wednesday, June 24, 2015

... And Then a Cold Shower

I rode my bike to work for the first time of the year today.

It was really lovely. Just a nice way to start the day. Sort of.
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I have been fortunate enough in the past two years to have three jobs, all with showers, making the two-wheeled trek to work possible. In fact, a shower is now on my list of must-have benefits. Health insurance? Check. Vacation days? Check. Shower? Yes, sir!

In fact, it was actually one of the last questions I asked before accepting my current job. (Much as it had been at my last place of employment.) "We have one," said my soon-to-be-new-boss hesitatingly. "It's been here about 20 years and I'm not sure anyone has ever used it," he added.

"And it's in the men's bathroom."

Fast forward to last week. With high hopes that the weather would finally cooperate, I determined that it was time to check the shower.

Confidently, I marched into the men's room after 5 p.m. when most everyone was gone. I twisted the faucet and, voila ...

Water! I was good to go.

Or so I thought.
---------------------------------------------------
This morning, I stuffed my backpack full. I pedaled as fast as I could. I locked my bike up outside and I headed toward the men's room.

It's a little unnerving to disrobe in the men's room, I gotta admit. What if the lock doesn't work? Not the way I want to address my still-not-"old"-friends coworkers. But disrobe I did, stepped into my flip flops (it's still the men's room and everyone knows athlete's foot lives in places like this), and fired up the shower.

Fired up is not exactly accurate. Fire would imply warmth. And this, my friends, was a cold shower. A very cold shower. As in, no hot water. None. Zip. Nada. Bupkis.

I guess I should have tested the temperature when I tested the existence of water.

Needless to say, my shower didn't take long.




Sunday, June 14, 2015

Naked by November

I got to spend the weekend with some of the people I love most in the world ... my girlfriends from home. Due to a work trip that brought Arizona to Chicago, Arizona was able to extend her stay by a couple of days and head to my house. Then Cross Plains, Neenah and Fort Atkinson x 2 also joined and it was slumber party at the ranch! 

Poor Jim. LOL

Normally, we rendezvous in the fall. This unexpected gathering was a bonus. 

We did something we'd never done on Saturday morning. I rolled everyone's ass out of bed and we went to RIPPED. 

Wait. Let me say that another way. 

Because my friends love and support me, they rolled their own asses out of bed at 5:45 a.m. on a Saturday, after a very late Friday night, and went to RIPPED with me. 

Isn't that just the coolest thing? 

Like Alice handing out brown bag lunches on The Brady Bunch, I had a protein bar, water bottle, sweatband and gym towel ready near the back door, so they could grab what they needed before heading to the car. In the car, I had all of my extra yoga mats and hand weights preloaded. Off we went into the sunrise. 

We jumped around. Made up a few of our own moves. Groaned a little. Sweat a lot. 

And when it was over, we talked about how we all needed a little incentive. We realize that taking good care of ourselves means making sure we do all we can to eat better, breathe deeper and move more. 

I mean, let's face it. We're closer to 50 than 40 at this point and the reality of that is lost on no one. 

So we made a pact. 

When we get together in November, we're going to do a 5K. We have the time between now and then to get ready. No one is forcing anyone else to run, but I do think that will be the goal of a few. 

A quick check of calendars showed that the weekend of Nov. 13 seemed to work for our fall extravaganza. Another fast check of Google showed that we had three good options that weekend in our neighborhood: 

This is a 5-mile run/walk with a 1-mile option. The event raises money for Janesville's food pantry. 

This is a 12K (7.4 mile) run through the trails at a county park. There's also a 5K option with money raised to go toward the Jefferson Country Cancer Coalition. 

This 5K is a fundraiser for the Whitewater Community Clothes Closet. The idea is that you layer up in clothes you would like to donate, and at each mile marker, you shed a few articles. By the end of the race, you should be "nearly naked." ("In November? In Wisconsin?" asked Arizona, whose blood has thinned considerably over the years.)

Can  you guess which one is the early favorite? 

Love these ladies with all my heart.
Strong and beautiful, in every way. 

Sunday, June 7, 2015

Rest Days are Hard

Remember that 6-mile run I was so happy about last Wednesday? National Running Day, beautiful sunny morning, felt like I could go forever? 

In the "no good deed goes unpunished" vein, I screwed something up in my right knee and it's been hurting more than usual since. To the point of I'm limping every once in a while. 

So I've made the usual adjustments: flat shoes, upped the ibuprofen and fish oil, and substituted bike riding/weights for running. 

For four days. Four long days. My Fitbit is pissed. 

I know pain is your body's way of calling time-out and, most often, should not be ignored. 

I also know that have these periods every once in a while. It just means I have to change it up. Less running ... fewer miles per session or fewer sessions per week. Sometimes no running. And, when it's like this, even walking is too much. 

I can't help but think about all the things I did wrong in the beginning of this journey. I ran every day. I pushed through the little aches and pains. I increased distance (and intensity) more than the recommended/safe 10% per week. 

I was not informed. In fact, I was dumb. The result? I learned my lesson the hard way and I created some of the problems I have now. 

The best defense is information and patience. I keep reminding myself that this is a marathon, not a sprint. My goal is to stay healthy so I can continue to run for a very long time. 

So, here's a little information for you: 



And now I'm going to see if I can find some more patience for me. It's just so not my best skill. 


Thursday, June 4, 2015

Catching You Up

Hey peeps. It's been a while. I'm sorry I've been lax in the blog department. To be honest ... I kind of ran out of mojo for a while. I was afraid that anything I wrote would sound like whining or complaining, so I thought it best to just keep quiet.

And, I'm not entirely convinced my funk has left the building. So if this is a bit rough, I apologize.

My goal all along has been to use my story to show that, if by chance you were struggling with some of the same things, you are not alone. Consequently, I thought that if I couldn't be positive and uplifting, this whole thing wouldn't serve a purpose. Goodness knows in the grand scheme of things, my life is pretty freaking blessed. Complaining about having too much to eat sounds conceited, ridiculous, petty ... and horribly American.

I realize, though, that what I'm going through now might also be part of your story or your struggle. So I'm back.

I thought I'd just catch you up first and we'll see where it goes from there.

1. I have a new job. I'm almost 4 months in and some things are finally starting to feel familiar. The transition hasn't been easy for me. I've had to do some re-evaluation of who I am and what I want. I've chosen to place a different emphasis on what "work" is and how it defines me. I've met some really wonderful people, learned a lot and had quite a bit of fun.

2. I have gained weight. My guess is 20-25 lbs from my new normal low, but I'm too afraid to step on the scale to find out. Most of my summer clothes from 2 years ago do not fit. Some from last year do. I feel like a sausage ... too much goo stuffed in a too small package. The bras are the worst. They're just plain uncomfortable.

3. My workouts have been sporadic. I'm still running about 3x/week. Sometimes 4x. I'm doing between 4-6 miles an outing. I'm not lifting like I was. I'm also not biking like I did last summer. Because my weight it up, I'm putting extra stress on my joints. It seems everything hurts these days ... my hips, my shoulder, my back, my knees. Oh, my knees. However, NOT working out doesn't make any of it feel better. In fact, it usually makes things worse. Continuing to move is what feels best.

4. My eating spun wildly out of control for a while. I seriously think I might have a problem. It's not like I was eating whole packages of Oreos at one sitting or gorging on buckets of fried foods or anything. But I just couldn't stop eating. A handful of pretzels her. Ten minutes later? A little hunk of cheese. 20 minutes later? A piece of Dove Dark. Oh, good. Time for lunch. It was more like constant chewing. I've been better this week. Getting my head back in the game. I've been making better choices and have put a few of the old "limitations" (thought I hate that word) back in place.

5. My struggle is finding balance. I can't out-exercise bad eating. I can't/don't want to eat clean every minute of every day. I can't lie and say this is good enough when I know it's not. I can't say I don't care because I do. I also have to get out of my own head and understand that my emotions/internal dialogue affect my actions. I have to stop the negative thinking, the doubt and the fear.

No surprise, I'm a work in progress. Like the rest of the world.



Tuesday, June 2, 2015

Shortest. Bike Ride. Ever.

Got a text from my bike ridin' cousin Mary a couple of days ago with a photo attached. The pic was of her Trek 100 bib and the message said, "Ready to ride?"

Shit.

I forgot to sign up for the Trek 100 ride.

A quick glance at the website proved that A) I missed the Early Bird Discount by a mile. B) I also missed online registration altogether.

All that notwithstanding, Jim and I are going to do the 19-mile route ... his first-ever ride. As such, we made an attempt at a training run tonight.

We loaded up our bikes on my new Saris bike rack, drove to the bike trail and hit the ground rolling.

A mile in, I had a back tire going flat.

Back to the car we went.

"Think you can do that 9 more times?" I asked Jim as we were loading bikes back onto the rack.

"Yup."

So, I guess we're ready ... after we have the guys at Michael's Cycles take a look at my tire to see if it's the tire or just a tube that needs to be replaced.

Hahahahaha!