20 minutes, suckas

Oh my heavens, we did it.

Week 5, Day 3. Take that, Robert Ullrey.

I can't believe we made it. I mean, I believe it -- one has to believe in order to survive it, but wow. We went from running a max of 8 minutes to running a mile and a half in 20! I have never run that much in my LIFE...not when I played soccer, not when I played softball...I was never capable of running that much without stopping. And there we were, 5 minutes down, 8 minutes, 10 minutes...and then before I knew it, we had three minutes left, and I thought, "My god, I can make this!" And we did.

Looked ahead to week 6, doesn't seem nearly as tough as week 5.

And this was all after lifting weights this afternoon. Amazing. Completely amazing.

Week 5 Begins

We just got back from our week 5, Day 1 run. It was, in a word, amazing. I felt great -- totally and utterly great. I never felt winded, I never hurt too much, and I never doubted that I could finish. When we finished, I didn't feel like I was staggering to get back. In fact, I sprinted about 10 seconds after our time was done...Nicole ran up behind me saying, "That's not part of the run!" I just felt like I could do it.

On Wednesday, our run consists of two 8 minute intervals with a five minute break -- we can do it. I probably could have done it tonight. Friday, as we all know, is a twenty minute -- nonstop -- run. Holy moley.

Wednesday also marks our halfway point. Turkey Trot, here we come!

A simple quote and not-so-simple thoughts

"It's so much easier to lose weight when you get rid of all of your fat friends." -- Nik

It's true -- if you hang around people who eat and eat and eat, and drink and drink and drink, you're more liable to eat, drink, and be a heifer. One can argue that they are "fat and happy," but at the end of the day, I really just want to be in shape, healthy, and happy.

What's remarkable in all of this is the fact that I don't miss any of them. Not a one and not for even a moment. Perhaps I've come to this realization due to hundreds of dollars in therapy. Or maybe from the exercise and the new activities we're partaking in. Whatever it is, my life is sans negative influences -- and sans toxic individuals.

What I'm still having a hard time reconciling is my attempted suicide. I was driving home a few days ago, and it was like I was struck by lightning. It just hit me: I took pills (in NJ) to commit suicide. No, it didn't hit me that night, no it didn't hit me when the numbing feeling wore off, and it didn't hit me when my psychiatrist said, "So...you know that you ATTEMPTED suicide, right? Taking that many pills is an attempt."

I've moved on past everything else, but there is a feeling of fear and terror -- as I sit in my DBT classes and hear other people talk about their self-harm, it's as if I'm ignoring my own.

The reality? I took pills the night I flew in to New Jersey. I wanted to die. Some of the previously mentioned toxic individuals saved my life. It's strange, but true. Without the actions of those people, I wouldn't be here today -- I wouldn't be ALIVE. Do you understand how frightening that is? I still can't wrap my mind around it.

Ran W4D2 last night. Not sure any of these thoughts make any sense...but had to put them out there. For my own sake, at least.

Cereal and Self-Doubts

I've been eating a lot of cereal -- I'm not sure why that's relevant to the blog, but I felt like it needed to be written.

In the office of our school is a huge box of individual containers of cereal -- mostly Crispix and Cocoa Krispies...and I find myself eating one to two a day as my "snack." I wish I could say I feel guilty about this, but I really don't. Let's look at my menu for today:

This morning, I had a Fiber One toaster pastry, which was actually delicious. I also had my morning coffee.
A few hours later, I had a little box of Crispix.
Then, I had my lunch, which was an individual container of Mac and Cheese.
Two hours later, another cereal.
When I get home, I'll have some sort of fruit and then dinner. Then we'll go to the gym and that will be the end of the eating.

I don't think that's so bad, but maybe I'm warped.

In other news, I had a surge of self-doubt yesterday before our W4D1 run. Could I do this? Why on Earth did I think this was possible? I'm fat. I'm out of shape. Even in my thinnest, most athletic days, I couldn't run. I'd run a lap around the soccer field, and then go into an asthmatic fit. Or...our softball coach would have us run for ten minutes, and I would make it three. Four if I was lucky.

And last night's run looked like this:
5 minute warm up walk
3 minute jog
90 sec. walk
5 minute jog
2 1/2 minute walk
3 min. jog
90 sec. walk
5 min. jog
5 min. cool down walk

Five minutes. These people want me to run/jog for 5 minutes without stopping...twice.

And I really just didn't think it was possible. Then I look ahead to W5D3, and it's a TWENTY MINUTE RUN. And I want to fall over, throw in the towel, eat a donut...anything but even try.

So last night we get out there, and I have my knee brace on (I was really struggling), and the three minute jog begins...so there I go. Jog jog jog. Nik is ahead of me, and I keep telling myself, "It's not a race. It's not a race. Just keep going." And before I knew it -- seriously, before I knew it, the three minutes was over. I actually thought to myself, "Really? That's it?" That's it.

But it still wasn't five minutes. When the five minutes started, I stopped thinking. I started telling myself, "See that house down the road? You're going to make it there." Then I'd get there and say, "Good, now go to THAT house...THAT lamp post...THAT sewer lid." And the five minutes came and went. And I survived.

I survived -- for the first time in my LIFE -- a five minute run.

Wait. Wait.

I did it twice. The last minute of the last five minute jog was a struggle...I had to keep persuading my legs to keep going. Lift up, move forward, keep going. At one point I said aloud, "Come on, finish this." And I did. We both did.

It's unbelievable. We're out there and jogging/running/wogging. We're not eating ice cream in front of the TV. We're not drenching french fries in ranch. We're working out 4, 5, 6 times a week. It's amazing.

If I can do D1, I can do D2 and D3. I need to NOT think about Week 5. I'll think about it this weekend...

a small victory

first and foremost, the running is going really well. we finished week three (a little beat down, but we finished), and we begin week four tomorrow. after we clean today, we're going to lift weights at the gym and perhaps do a little, mini, teeny weeny jog.

but the victory is in the food. we have not gone out to eat in about...three weeks? which, if you know us, is a HUGE deal. admittedly, we got subway 6inch sandwiches one night we went to a choir rehearsal, but i mean, a 6inch sandwich? we're not counting it. ;)

yesterday, we went up to idledale -- our spot -- and were both pretty hungry. so she took me to her favorite restaurant, which is of the italian persuasion, and i ordered something i would always order: fettucine alfredo. why not? it was our combo lunch and dinner and i didn't mind splurging just once.

the salad came, and i ate the whole thing -- so delicious. then our meals came, and i looked at it, and thought, "wow, that's a lot of food."

i can't remember the last time i thought that about any meal. so i started eating -- and it was delicious -- and i probably ate 1/4 or 1/5 of the entire thing and said, "i'm so full."

and i was. i didn't eat the whole plate of pasta. i then commented to nik, "a month ago, i would have eaten all of it," to which she responded, "all of it and mine."

so, a small victory. eating at home has changed my eating habits for the better...and i'm down 8 pounds as of this morning. super duper!

Week 2 Completed

I don't have much to say about completing week 2 except that I'm glad it's done. It wasn't difficult, but I think by lifting weights three times this week, I weakened my body enough so that it felt harder than it actually was. My breathing was great, though -- I'm glad I get to concentrate on nothing but running when I'm doing it.

Nicole and I made it a little over two miles today -- a little further than Wednesday's run. She went faster than I did -- her pace is faster, and she walks a heck of a lot faster than I do. I have to keep reminding myself that it's not a race, it's about myself. I have to do this for myself, not for anyone else or against anyone else.

First snow!

We are at the start of week three of nine, which blows my mind. Since it was snowing (which I love) we had to go to the gym for our run. I was very nervous about this because running in circles makes me crazy, I track each lap and feel like its a form of torture. That was so not the case today, I ran, and walked according to what my new best friend Robert Ulley told me to do. I did over twelve laps which is a little over two miles, and while I was winded at the end of it, I felt strong, and proud, which probably sounds silly. I know that to the outside, people can't tell the changes in my body, but I can. I can feel the muscles in my legs, abs and back. I can feel that I can breathe deeper than I could before (too bad I'm no longer singing) and while my pants still fit, they fit better than they did two weeks ago.
I'm amazed by what I can do, that I did two miles today and never once even considered quitting, I just kept going, and pushed myself. I am falling in love with running, which is a very strange statement coming from me.
We also made potato soup in honor of the first snow of the season! It was so yummy with the biscuits, and cheese...mmmmm.
We spent some time at the super cool cake store off of Broadway and Oxford. We needed to get some food coloring for our creepy cupcakes that we are making! It has been a great day!

More thoughts on working out

Who would think that I'd be obsessively posting/reading about running? I don't get it. I don't know where it came from, but I like it. Nicole likes it, too. We're working out together, not in a competitive way, but in a loving, "keep going, babe" kind of way.

Last night, while we were lifting weights, I started to get a headache, and decided I wouldn't do the last two machines since I didn't feel up to it. Nicole said, flat out: "That sounds like the old Libby Colorado."

And it struck me. Was I making an excuse so I wouldn't have to finish? Do I like the idea of being an athlete / of working out, but can't follow through? I had to see.

She left to walk around the gym (she was finished with her machines), and I decided to buckle down and try. There were only two machines left, why not? So I did three reps on both of them. I could have stopped at two, but I felt I had something to prove. A headache from doing an ab workout was not going to stop me. My weight gain was not going to stop me. My brain telling me, "You're done, take a break" was not going to stop me. I had to push through.

I've read a lot of people's comments about running -- how even after they've been runners for years, the first mile or two SUCKS. It hurts. You have to find a rhythm. One person said that she hates the first two miles, wants to quit every time, but after those two miles are done, she can run for ten easily. And she has never quit.

I quit smoking (64 days!), I quit drinking soda, and I quit fast food. I don't need to quit anything else. I'm going to push through. Tomorrow is Week 2, Day 3 -- and we're going to run in the early morning.

By the way, and just so it's out there (again), I love my wife.

letting go

Yesterday as I was leaving for work,I grabbed my keys off of my mirrored key hook by my front door. Stuck square in the middle of the mirror was a post it note that said "I love you more than anything in the world". I smiled as I read the note and noticed my reflection in the mirror. This was the first time in months that I recognized myself, and knew that at last, I am happy again.
My depression goes beyond the mess that occurred this summer, I have lost friends in the past year who I thought would be in my life forever. It has taken me almost a year to come to terms with the fact that they will not be, and that as much as I loved them, they are all emotionally stunted, and not actually healthy people for me to be around. I spent days in bed crying, and some mornings would just wake up sobbing I couldn't seem to get over the loss, and felt like there was no end in sight. This was never a problem for me in the past. I had overcome much greater challenges in my life, and while they were devastating events, I always knew that I would be ok.
What happened this summer took an emotional toll on me, and while each day I woke up and functioned, I never felt happy. I couldn't relax, I always wanted to be somewhere else, to be someone else. I let the words of others crush me and doubted who I was as a person. I couldn't let go of my anger, and move forward with my life.
From July through September, I took prescription ambien to sleep every night. I knew that I couldn't rely on that forever, so when the bottle ran out, I decided not to refill. I was taking Benadryl and sometimes Melatonin. The night before the sticky note arrived, I did not take anything to sleep. I fell asleep all on my own, and slept through the night without any problems.
I feel like myself again, my happy, sarcastic, loving self. I don't know if part of it was the return of Liz's stuff to the house, or what triggered it, but I have let go, and let her in. I feel amazing, am working out like a fiend, eating well, sleeping well and enjoying each day. I'm happy, so very happy.

Living in the moment

It's difficult for me to be in the moment, to experience the "now." I drift off so often, thinking back, thinking ahead, but what about right now?

I'm supposed to experience the senses of now -- what do I see, feel, hear, smell, taste? What am I experiencing NOW?

This was a lot easier last night when I was running. We ran outside for the first time, and I kept thinking to myself about how my legs felt, how my feet touched the ground, how my shoulders felt, what the houses looked like, what the air smelled like. There was no time to think of anything else, just living in the moment.

Maybe that's why my DBT classes and running are fitting so perfectly together. They are allowing me to experience my life from a different (and better) perspective.

I drove to work this morning thinking about how much I love my life. I have a woman who loves me, a great home, and a new, healthy routine. My life is very satisfying.

No restaurants for us...

I just asked Nicole if it's been a week since we've gone out to eat, or had any meal outside of our home, and the answer was yes. It's probably been longer than a week by now.

I like the life we're building for ourselves; it's healthier in many ways. I'm glad to be home with her at night, eating whatever is left over or something new or a bowl of Golden Grahams, and just talking with her, playing with our dogs, or getting ready to work out together.

I have no desire to eat at a restaurant, either, which is VERY strange for me. I love food. Hence, I have plenty of weight to lose. But I am not craving restaurant food or fast food or anything of that nature; I just want to go home, make a salad, and run for thirty minutes. Not bad.

number 71 aka giving up soda!

First off, let me say that right now, it is taking effort to type this. My arms are shaking so badly from tonight's workout, so everyone (all three people who are reading this) must appreciate what I am about to say....
I gave up soda, which I didn't think was going to be a big deal at all, but turns out, it is.
I never thought that I drank the stuff all that much, only when I go out to eat, and occasionally at work. A cherry coke in the afternoon helped get me through the last two hours of the day, and let's face it, it's delicious. So when we gave up going out to eat for the first two weeks of the month, it made total sense to give up soda at the same time.
So I am sitting at work this afternoon on the fifth day of the no soda spree, and my head is pounding, and I'm tired and all I want to do is scavange through my purse and find the 65 cents to go buy a cherry coke...and that's when it occurs to me that I am totally and completely addicted to the caffiene. I never would have thought that I was because I am not a coffee drinker. I don't have to start my day off with a cup of joe, but my body for sure was craving that little pick me up. No matter how much water I drank, my head still pounded away.
Hopefully tomorrow will be a better day, that the headaches will subside, and I don't have to work until a million o'clock, becuase I really don't want to cave, and drink a delicious coke. I'm really looking forward to the time when I don't even think of soda as an option for drinking. It feels great to be thinking in a healthier state of mind.

Week 2 of training

Nicole and I started week 2 of Couch to 5K training yesterday; we both had that "oh my goodness, I want to die" look on our faces. I am baffled as to how I'm going to work my way up to 3.2 miles. Yesterday was 1.75 miles, and heavens, that was enough.

My body feels differently, though. I have not stepped on a scale to start the working out process, but I can notice a difference in how my body looks. I worked out four times last week, and am planning on at least four times this week (resting is important, too).

Tonight, our plan is to jog around the track once, work on strength through machines, and then go in the pool and hot tub. Sounds like a good evening to me!

Also, I marked off number 47 from the list because I have officially driven the car successfully -- which, in my world, means that I shifted gears without thinking. It was a great drive to the store!