Emotions – Page 5 – Yoga Pants Diary

September 7, 2015September 10, 2015

My Identity

These past few days and weeks I’ve had a lot of new people asking me about my health, diet and fitness. While it feels super awesome to inspire others and lend and ear, it has gotten me thinking a lot about my identity.

My Obese Identity

When I was morbidly obese, I always knew I was ‘the fat one’. I didn’t want this to be true but it was either way I look at it. What I mean is, how would your friends fill in this sentence:

“Oh you’ve met her, she’s the ______ we had dinner with the other night…..”

When filling in that sentence for me, undoubtedly that blank would be filled with FAT ONE. And who could blame anyone? My obesity was tied up in my identity. I’ve said this many times on this site but I’ll say it again: Being obese is like carrying the thing to hate most about yourself on the outside where everyone can see it. I do think there are other things that could have filled that blank when I was obese like: the music teacher. But that’s my job, which I love, not who I am. I didn’t want to be known for being the fat one OR for just being a music teacher. Being “THE FAT ONE” was never my true identity but I thought it was at the time.

My Identity Now

I know that this sentence is much much different for me now. There’s so much emotional work that goes along with changing what you look like. One thing I wasn’t prepared for on my journey, was how others would respond to me. I’ve changed my identity in society. Everyone puts everyone in boxes all day long. I’m slotted into a much different box of stereotypes now than I was before. This is both good and bad. BUT I’m so proud of the things that I would fill that sentence with about myself now:

runner, fit girl, boxer, ninja, crazy person……

People still assume things about me all day long. When I was obese people automatically think: lazy, slow, unambitious, early death. (Which were all true) Now I think people think: Health freak, gym rat, nutrition nerd, runner (which are all kinda true too…..) The point is, I’m ok with my identity in society now. If someone thinks I’m too muscley, I’ll take that EVERYDAY over being half way to a heart attack. If someone assumes I spend 10 hours a days at the gym because of how I look, I’m ok with that stereotype too. I didn’t just change the way I look on the outside and the way I feel on the inside. I changed who I am to the entire world. Pretty freakin cool.

August 30, 2015

Vacation #2 – NYC

Since I’ve been back at work for two weeks now, I thought it was time to write about my second vacation to New York City. I’m already dreaming again of what it was like to have so much time off! I love my job but I’m totally spoiled by the summer.

In New York City, I had the time of my life. (If you didn’t sing that last phrase in your head, we obviously aren’t friends) Once again, I noticed how much easier the whole trip was because I was fit and active. I can only imagine what the trip would have been like if I had gone two years ago. And once again I would have missed so many things.

Walking – So it’s true what they say about NYC, it’s a walking city. The subway and buses are easy to figure out but you still have to know how to get to the stations. And, since I’m fit when it was only a mile or so, we’d just walk it. Rarely, and usually late at night, we would take a taxi. I tried not to add it up when we were there because I didn’t want to discourage myself from walking more. I knew I was talking a TON because my legs hurt everyday. I worked out only twice while there, see below, but I was sore the whole time. Also, I knew I wasn’t gaining weight even though I tried nearly all the food. Walking gives you a totally different perspective of the city. I would have missed a lot by driving.

Here’s my day’s walking totals:

Day 1: Airport, Staten Island Ferry, Dinner, Lots of walking around, 12 miles

Day 2: Morning walk, Brooklyn Bridge, Financial District, Battery Park, Ground Zero, Coney Island, 14 miles

Day 3: Time Square, Garment District, Central Park, Broadway, Boxing, 14 miles

Day 4: Freedom Tower, Empire State Building, Wall Street, Fire Museum, Airport, 10 miles

Grand Total: 50+ miles!

Food – I wanted to eat anything I wanted in NYC. Because I was walking so much, I was able to partake in all the New York traditions: pizza, hot dog cart, cheesecake and bagels! Everything was wonderful. It was so nice to not worry too much about what I was eating! As long as I kept up my water intake, I knew my weight would be fine. I was so happy to see I’d actually lost weight on vacation when I got back!

Workouts – My friend and I had already discussed what workouts we wanted to do before we left, we ended up doing about half of them. Our legs were so sore from walking that we knew we didn’t need much more activity. I had two killer workouts while I was there.

After reading The Long Run by Matt Long, I had set a personal goal of running the 6 mile loop in Central Park. To quickly summarize: Matt Long is a NY firefighter who survives 9/11 only to be hit by a city bus during the transit strike. Matt was an Ironman and marathon runner before his accident and he would dream of running in Central Park. He eventually recovered enough to run marathons and even an Ironman again. I was so inspired by his story and his book that I couldn’t wait to run his favorite path in Central Park. I ran it with him in mind and crushed it! It was a very emotional and spiritual moment for me.

Jameson, my boxing trainer, is from Brooklyn. So when I was planning a trip to NYC he set up a training session with his original trainer at New Bed Stuy Boxing. In one short and sweaty lesson, Naye fixed elements of my stance and my punches. It was a great workout and it was fun to see where my trainer began his own journey. I was proud to show his teacher what he had taught me.

Sleep – When you only get so many hours in NYC, I didn’t want to waste it sleeping. I wanted to sleep as little as possible so we had more hours to do things. Because I’m used to pushing through when I’m exhausted in workouts, I was able to keep going. I got to pack my hours with all the things I wanted to do and keep going. While I was tired most days, my natural energy from being active kept me going. Needless to say I slept A LOT when I got home!

All though the trip I kept wondering how it would have been different if it was three years ago. I would not have been able to see half of what I wanted. The trip would have been more expensive because I would have had to rent a car and pay to park everywhere. I wouldn’t have figured out how easy it is to take the subway or buses. I wouldn’t have been able to eat all the NY treasures without guilt. (although I probably would have anyway…..) I definitely wouldn’t have run Central Park. I would have missed out on most of my favorite moments of the trip.

One of my favorite moments was seeing the ocean in Coney Island. We went to Coney Island on a spur of the moment decision. We saw that they subway line went all the way there, so we just decided to go. When we got down to the beach, neither of us had our swimming suits on. But how often do you get the chance to swim and play in the ocean? I actually played in the ocean in my bra and underwear. This is something that NEVER would have happened before and was probably my favorite moment. I would have missed so much without even knowing it. I would have been uncomfortable and nervous the entire time. But because I knew I could go anywhere I wanted and be able to walk back, because I was confident in my appearance, because I could just relax, I was able to have the time of my dreams!

August 18, 2015

What I Want You To See

I’ve had a lot of experiences in the past few weeks that I will be posting and writing about. But this week, I stumbled across a photo on Instagram that I just had to share. It stopped me in my tracks and it has haunted me for days.

Photographer: Meg Gaiger (Happyimages), via Instagram

This photo gives me mixed emotions everytime: sad and horrified but I also understand the girl in this picture.

All through my childhood I felt like this girl. No matter how active I was or what I ate, I always felt bigger and fatter than my peers. Even when I look back at photos of my young self and see that I was pretty normal, it isn’t how I felt. I don’t remember idolizing models or movie stars in my Tiger Beat but I remember looking at others. I always wanted to be as thin as my sister. I wanted to wear a bikini like my friends at the local beach. I wanted to be a starter on the basketball team instead of second or third string.

BUT I did not know how to do it in a healthy way and didn’t know I could ask for help. I remember having body issues as young as 4th grade, maybe sooner. Things only got worse through middle and high school.

In 6th grade, I got bullied by one girl in particular. She would make me feel fat and ugly all the time. She and her friends would laugh at me from across the hallway or in the back of the room. I never understood why she choose me or why she bullied me. I’ll never know, but it effected how I started to see myself. I started to notice more and more how I was different. I was taller and a little heavier. By the end of middle school and going in to high school, I did not have a healthy self image. I was constantly judging myself against others. When I was in high school, I realized I could change how I looked. Throughout the four years of high school I experimented with anorexia, bulimia, water pills, diet pills and weight loss bars or shakes. No one seemed to notice that I was struggling. I never stuck to one method for long enough for it to be that noticeable. My friends didn’t even know.

My senior year of high school was the hardest. My family experienced quite a lot of stress that year and it was easy to hide in the back ground. I lost over 30 pounds by starving myself. I would eat one or two diet bars a day and diet soda. When you’re at school all day, have an after school job, and then musical rehearsal until 9 pm, it’s easy to hide your eating habits. I could drive myself everywhere and my parents were always at an appointment or work. It wasn’t their fault, no one really knew. I don’t remember why I stopped. My focus shifted to moving to college I suppose. While I feel like this was one of the hardest times in my life, my confusion about health and eating continued until just recently.

When I look at the photo above, I am that girl. But what I truly worry about it is young girls seeing me now. I don’t want ANYONE to ever look at me and feel bad about themselves. Every day I get the “Skinny Bitch Face” from someone. I always want to stop them and explain my story and who I am. I wish I could wear a shirt that says “Healthy NOT Skinny”. This was my goal all along. I want young girls to see me and think “I want to be healthy like her!” I want them to see me running down the street and want to be able to do what I can do. I NEVER want a young girl to see me and feel bad about themselves or make the kinds of choices that I did when I was young.

But how to spread this message……..

July 31, 2015August 1, 2015

Vacation #1

This past week I traveled home to the Midwest. I was a little nervous about seeing my family after a full year of not seeing them. I’ve changed both physically and emotionally in the last year. But family is always family……..right?

I had a lot of first moments on this trip. My whole life I’ve looked up to my sister. Stephanie is two years older than me and is a stay-at-home mom. She is raising three beautiful and well-behaved children who are already turning into outstanding little humans. Through our childhood I was constantly jealous of my sister. She was always taller, skinnier and prettier. My parents did a good job of loving us the same way and giving us the same opportunities. I was never jealous that she was the older sibling and I was the younger, but it definitely effects your development.

As a younger sibling, a lot of times I felt like I was in her shadow. She was the first to do everything: walk, talk, date, break curfew, sneak out of the house…… It bothered me for a long time through adolescence that everything I did had already been done. Then in high school I started to create my own path that lead me to who I am today. I think it just takes a while for siblings of the same sex to be individuals. Even after I had grown to be an adult, I still felt a lot of the same things from childhood. Steph was still skinnier, healthier and prettier. Even my mother was skinnier and healthier than I was. I thought my place in the family was the ‘fat one’. I thought I had my mom’s physique and always envied my sister for having my father’s. My family would gently express their concern for my weight but I felt like I didn’t ‘fit’ in my family for a long time and getting skinny wouldn’t change that. Well for this trip, I finally felt like I physically fit in my own family. I do have my father’s physique; I just could never see it.

Being able to fit in physically allowed me to have a lot more fun. We went hiking, which I never would have done before. We went to the public pool where I was seen in a bathing suit! I even went off of the diving board, letting everyone see me in all my glory. Other than a few times already this summer, I hadn’t been to a public pool in years. I had not gone off a diving board since I was dating my husband or went to summer camp. I was fit enough to feel confident doing flips and fun dives. I would have missed out on this bonding time and fun with my family if I hadn’t changed my life. On a two-mile hike, I was able to talk and run with my niece, whom I don’t get to see very often. My niece Phoebe is my twin. She is the middle sibling in her family and reminds me so much of myself. She’s quirky, caring, funny, helpful and a little awkward. We were able to talk and laugh with each other in a way we hadn’t before. Another important bonding experience I would have been on the sidelines for.

Being physically fit and being happy with my body made me feel like I fit in my family for the first time. They never excluded me from these events before but I would find a way to exclude myself because I wasn’t comfortable. I was holding myself back from knowing and loving my family in the way I wanted to, with my weight. Having that weight gone left so much more room to bond with them.

I have a much, much different life than my immediate and most of my extended family. Almost everyone in my family is conservative, religious and lives in a rural area. I’m very liberal and love living in what my mother calls “The Big City”. My family and I don’t agree on a lot of political topics or major societal issues; so sometimes I feel like I don’t quite fit in mentally either. This is not a result from them. They are always interested in my opinions and don’t try to pressure me to come their side of the issue. On rare occasion we can agree on things, like Donald Trump’s hair.

While I do not expect these parts of our relationship to change anytime soon, I found that with my confidence up, so were my opinions. I’ve never been one to hold back my thoughts or change my beliefs for the crowd I’m in. But, in the past it’s been hard not to back down or just leave my opinion out. This time, I felt like I not only had confidence in my body, but since I’ve done a lot of emotional work, my beliefs are stronger. I felt like I could say what I meant more clearly. While I still have A LOT to figure out, I felt more confident emotionally as well. This made me feel closer to my family, like I was letting them see who I really am. It made me feel like I fit in, even though we are so different.

Another big change in my trip this time was my ability to stay calm. I know for sure this is a result of exercise and specifically boxing. I usually get nervous to fly but not for the actual flight. I hate the process at the airport and always worry I’ll lose luggage or something will come up that makes me miss my flight. I felt a lot more calm and confident about flying and getting through the airport. I even had a connecting flight, which I’d never done before. The whole time I felt a lot less anxious than ever before.

Usually on a trip, I like to know what we are eating the next day, where are we going, how long will it take to get there, when will we come back……… This time it was a lot easier to just roll with the punches. I felt like I was able to give up control and just enjoy my time, most of the time. I knew there was nothing they’d ask me to do that was uncomfortable or I couldn’t do physically. This made me less anxious the entire trip. I even slept better and didn’t get ‘travel belly’.

The whole trip was awesome and I loved t almost every minute. (Being eaten to death by mosquitoes in 98% humidity can just never be fun for me) If I hadn’t lost the weight and worked on my mentality, I wouldn’t have enjoyed this trip as much. I would have missed out on essential bonding with my nieces and nephews. I would have worried the whole time. AND I didn’t even realize how much I was missing before. I would have never even known. I wouldn’t have this beautiful picture of me and my sister.

June 23, 2015

If Only

Yesterday, I stumbled across this article in the LA Times:

Obese Americans now outnumber those who are merely overweight, study says

We have been expecting this to happen for sometime now and in certain age groups, it has. And I can’t believe how sad it is.

Now that I’ve ‘finished’ my weightloss journey, I continually have mixed feelings about it. It’s weird the emotional issues that still arise. But today I want to focus on the physical changes of losing weight, and forget about the mental ones. Physically, I consider my fitness journey complete. I am more than happy with my body’s image and abilities. I can do nearly everything I’ve ever wanted to do. I still set goals and find it fun to see how much farther I can push my body. Even though I haven’t stopped, I feel I’ve crossed the finish line physically.

The difference in what my body can do now is amazing. I’m not posting this to brag or seek compliments but to inspire those that are trying to start. When I was obese, the list of things that would exhaust me for the day was extensive: helping a friend move, doing laundry all day up two flights of stairs, shopping at multiple stores ……basically life was exhausting. Now I run around all day and do a million things and then still go to the gym. My energy level and ability to get things done is SO much higher.

I no longer worry about where my body can fit. I don’t spend an ounce of energy on chairs, restaurant seats, shopping aisles or public transport. I never worry about how far I park from the store or walking to meet up with a friend. I am going to a wedding shower this weekend and don’t have to worry about being ‘the fat friend’. I just fit in.

If anyone that is morbidly obese like I was could walk in my shoes for a day, they’d lose the weight. If anyone could feel the back-to-back difference of being morbidly obese to healthy weight, it would be all the motivation they needed. But, it’s the gradual decrease in weight and the very slow increase of fitness that derails most people in the dieting process. DON’T STOP.

Today’s post feels a little wander-y but my point is: IT’S TIME. It’s time to do something about it. Look around you and how your weight is effecting every part of your life. You’ve been telling yourself that it isn’t but take a good look. Today. Keep a list of all the things you change throughout your day because of your weight. Make a list of all the people you’re doing it for. Today is the day. Do it. NOW.

June 16, 2015

Rage Outs

On a weight loss journey, a lot of emotional issues may arise that you haven’t noticed before. While your emotions adjust, it can expose a lot of things. Even now that I’ve lost the weight, I continually struggle with the mental side. I’m going to go back and write about a problem I was having this past winter. At the time, I was too embarrassed about it to write about it publicly or properly. Now I think is the right time.

In October/November of 2014, I was experiencing what I called ‘Rage Outs’. Most of you might think you know what I’m talking about. Most women have less control over their emotions during ‘that time’ but this was much much worse. They usually happened at the gym, strangely enough, and on rare occasion at home. Something would happen that was out of my control. That was usually the trigger. When I’m not in control, I tend to freak out. But this would be over little, seemingly insignificant things. All of the sudden, I could feel my brain go red. I could see and feel myself getting so mad that I felt ‘out of my body.’ I know the ladies know the feeling when you can see and hear yourself being ridiculous, but you can’t do anything about it.

The ‘Rage Outs’ got way worse than just PMS. I would be OUT OF CONTROL. I would hit things, throw things, scream inside till I couldn’t breathe, want to hurt myself or someone else. They would usually last about 15 minutes and then I would be exhausted but clear-minded. It was like I was two people: The Hulk and Bruce Banner and one couldn’t control the other. At first I only got them every two or three weeks. Then I was having them every week. I was embarrassed to talk to my friends and family about it so I tried a couple different things that I thought would work. First I tried just separating myself from everyone when I was about to go red. This didn’t really help. It helped me not do it publicly, but the length and frequency didn’t decrease.

I decided something must be missing that used to fill me emotionally. This year I switched from being a music teacher to being a drama teacher. While I LOVE my job, I was really missing the music. I missed playing the piano and singing all day long. So I thought maybe I was missing my creative outlet. I asked Santa for a piano for Christmas thinking it would allow me to fill that creative hole. As soon as we got the piano I printed out all my favorite songs and played for hours. I made sure to play almost everyday for a little while. At first, I thought it was working. I went an extra week without having a rage out. However, come January, it started all over again just like before. The piano wasn’t working either.

And then it happened. The Rage Out that scared me to death. Dan and I were having a fight. I can’t recall what it was about but I’m pretty sure it was about dinner or doing the dishes. I ‘raged out’ quicker than I could control or even feel it. 0 to Hulk in 2 seconds flat. There was no time to separate myself or pause the fight before I’d already lost it. I took a swing at my own husband. I’ve never ever hit him or really even wanted to. But that night I did. Even though I didn’t hit him and caught myself at the last second, I was so embarrassed. Without any discussion, I grabbed my running shoes and headed for the park. I ran two crying, yelling, furious miles before I cooled down. When I got back home, I finally admitted what had been going on and that I didn’t know what to do.

Sometimes I think the universe or God or whatever you believe is in control knows better than you do. In January, the gym I was at got a new boxing trainer, Jameson Bostic. After our first or second class together, Jameson approached me about private training sessions. I’d never thought about taking boxing as my main fitness activity. I just liked mixing it in with everything else. I felt like I was a fighter on the inside or maybe in a past life because boxing was my favorite class all week. I was hoping that taking private sessions would help my rage outs and the hubby agreed we should give it a try.

And it worked.

Ever since my first private training session, I haven’t experienced a Rage Out. In the first month of training I could feel my mind try to take me to red but I had the control to bring myself back down before going off the edge. Now I don’t even feel myself getting to that place anymore. I think it’s for a few reasons. Boxing everyday, or close to it, gives me time when it’s ok to be out of control. It’s ok to get mad and punch and yell. If you don’t give it enough sass then you’re called a sissy and sent back to your spot. It gives me time to dig out that fighter side of me and let it loose. I was worried that boxing so often would make me want to box in my real life, like it would be the solution to any problem, but the opposite has happened. Because I do get that time to be out of control, I’m able to control my emotions outside of the ring so much better.

While it is still embarrassing to write about such a lack of control over my emotions, I’m hoping there’s someone out there that’s experienced the same thing. You CAN control your rage without medication or therapy. Try fitness!

June 7, 2015

Goal-less……

Sorry for the lapse in posts but…..I haven’t felt like posting about anything. I’m feeling very lost and confused the past few weeks and I’ve been trying to sort it out all while finishing the school year. I’ve been in a funk every since finishing the race and I think I’ve narrowed down my problem to: Post Race Depression.

Post Race Depression

Post race depression is a real thing. After my first 5K, I felt like I could do anything. Each race after that has not been the same high. All through my training for the half marathon, I thought about what is was going to feel like to cross the finish line. I thought I would cry my eyes out. I thought I might collapse in an emotional mess. But….neither happened. I was overjoyed to cross the line but not because it felt like a huge milestone, because it meant the race was over! I already knew I could finish the race and had no doubts about crossing the line. I’d already run that distance and several other distances that I never thought I could do. So, even though I felt awesome and superhuman that day, it was also a relief to have it over with. And now I’m struggling.

I was thinking about training or actually training for the half marathon since around February. So for 4 months, that’s all I thought about. While I was continuing with boxing training, running came first. I had to watch what I did at boxing so it didn’t affect my running. I would even stay at the gym for double classes to keep my endurance up for the race. I would think about running when I got up and all through the day. When something stressed my out at work, I would store it away for when I ran. When I needed a minute to calm myself, I thought about running in the cool breeze on mile 8. It’s been both motivating and calming me for the few months.

And now the race is over.

I’ve run several times since the race but often find that I don’t really care or like it. Since there’s no long term goal, it’s harder to push myself. My pacing has stayed the same and the run still feels good but…..it feels like there’s no point. I DO NOT want to train for a full marathon so I feel like I’ve already met all my goals with running. I do have other small goals like running longer intervals and breaking the 30 minute mark in a 5K but these feel so attainable that they don’t really feel like goals anymore.

Every goal I have taken on with my health and fitness has felt insurmountable until I’ve done it. Losing 145 pounds? Done. 5 pull ups? Done. Running a 5K without stopping? Done. Running a half marathon? Done. Feeling fit? Done. Feeling like I fit in at the gym? Done. Wearing size 6 jeans? Done. Posting a freaking picture of me in a bathing suit? Done. Feeling beautiful and confident most of the time? Done. Maintaining my weight? Done.

So what do I do now? Every goal I can think to set feels attainable now. There’s very little that I can’t make my body and mind do. My body responds to whatever task I give it. It’s not that I’m trying to say that I’m so awesome and anything is easy now. It’s not. But I now have so much confidence in my ability as an athlete that any goal seems attainable. While this would bring a high to some people, I get the high after the accomplishment. Knowing that I could do anything isn’t enough for me.

So what now?

May 18, 2015

I’m A (Half) Marathoner!

Yesterday was the big race. It was such a huge experience physically and mentally. I’m not even really sure how to start this post…….let’s just go through the whole day.

Morning Of…….

One of my greatest concerns about the race was the time. The race began at 6:45 AM! I am a night runner and I was greatly concerned about running at a different time. Also, I had to get up super early to get breakfast. During my practice run, I had ‘runners stomach’ from my breakfast. I’d gone out on a limb and tried something new for breakfast. There was a point where I HAD to walk a mile to get to a bathroom. So I had been getting all kinds of advice on what to eat. In the end though, I ate my usual breakfast because I knew what to expect. I didn’t know if a bagel and cream cheese would carry me the whole race, but it did. I didn’t want to change anything the morning of. I got up at 5:15am and walked to our local Starbucks. I got the usual coffee and a bagel. When we got home, I put on my race clothes, and we headed to the race. It all seemed like it happened REALLY quickly. I was lucky enough that the start and finish were in City Park, across the street from my house. I arrived at the race around 6:30 AM to find my “corral”. When you sign up for the race, you have to say how fast you think you’ll run. I did NOT end up in the right corral. More on that later. My friend, Thomas Elio, who was running as well was way ahead of my wave, so we didn’t get to run together.

Can everyone see how nervous I am, or is it just me?

The Just Before

I was feeling really emotional all morning. I was anxious and nervous. I wanted to be excited but I had a hard time. My stomach was in knots and I was kind of dreading the whole thing. I wasn’t experiencing self doubt. I kind of didn’t want it to be over? I knew I could do it. I just didn’t feel at my best and it made me even more nervous. Vicious cycle. When we finally got to the race and found my place in line, I asked my hubby to leave. Even though it would be 15-20 minutes before I started, I just wanted to be alone. In that time I thought about where I have come from and everything I’ve accomplished already. Even though I was worried about being happy with my run, I knew I had accomplished something amazing before I’d even begun. As I approached the start line, my eyes filled with tears thinking about what I was about to do. I know it seems so corny but it still happens. I was once again going to accomplish something I NEVER thought I could do. Then I had to suck up my emotions so I could actually run. So I blasted my Eminem and got to business.

The First Miles

Someone had already warned me that the first three miles would fly by and they really did. You spend so much time trying not to kick the people around you and weave in and out that you don’t even realize how much has passed. I ran through my first two rests because I simply didn’t need them. The pack was traveling so slowly that I hadn’t even broken a sweat yet. After the first few miles everyone starts to drift apart and you can find your stride. Mile 2 was my fastest mile of the whole race. One thing I was also worried about was being able to find my zone. Usually in races I’m so distracted that I have trouble following my timer and can’t find the zone. This didn’t happen. Because the race was so long, nearly everyone was a serious runner and was there to run the best they could.

Middle Miles

The middle miles are always where I lose track of where I am. I know it seems silly to say, but there are points where I actually forget which mile I’m in. I regularly run 4-5 miles. I’m very comfortable with this distance and know how it feels without thinking about it. My body falls into rhythm pretty easily. By the time I got to mile 6, I knew I was running strong. My intervals were good. My body felt good and mentally I felt even better. By the time 6.5 miles hits, which is halfway, I knew I could do it. I completely forgot miles 6-10. I know this seems crazy, especially to those that don’t run. But I just lost track. I don’t remember hearing my time for mile 7 or 8. At this point, I’m just running. The intervals feel shorter (even though they aren’t) and my body is relaxed. I also get to eat during this part of the race, which distracts me from thinking about how much farther I need to go. I ate during mile 7-8 this time which is my usual. I knew I had to eat before I got to the next water station. So I did, just in time to drink again. They had water stations every two miles, which of course I had pre-trained myself for. The water was cold and glorious every time!

The Death Miles

Most runners have a mileage they hate. For me it’s mile 9 to 10. At this point I’ve eaten so i should feel better right? Usually my body feels fine at this point but I’m starting to get bored. Every time I’ve run more than 10 miles, I hate mile 9.. I’m thinking, “Seriously, how much farther?” It didn’t’ happen in the race.

When I got to mile 9, it was the first time I could think about the end. At this point we had turned around in the race and were headed back West down Colfax. This is totally awesome for two reasons. 1) Westward in Colorado always means you’re facing the mountains, which were beautiful that morning. 2) I’m running towards home. There are two high rise condo buildings near my awesome historical 1920s building in City Park. It’s awesome because I can always orientate myself home. Since the race started and ended near my house, it felt like running home. So I ignored the street signs (because of course I know the order to home) and just put my head down and ran. Run. Water. Run. Here’s what my mind goes through those last three miles.

“You run three miles all the time. This isn’t the worst you’ve ever felt. You can do that! At the next mile marker, you only have two miles to go! Two miles left? Sure thing……………..Mile 11! Only two more miles to go! You can run two miles with your eyes closed! So what that you already ran 11. EMINEM…..You’re good. The next mile marker you see means you only have one mile left! One mile? Phissshhhh. That’s nothing. Mile 12. Holy crap. You’re almost done. Only one mile. Less than now. Even less now. LAST MILE!”

Crossing the Finish Line

The last few minutes of the race SUCKED. The finish line feels so close, but it’s still pretty far away. In your head your thinking, “Really? 13.1? It couldn’t be 13….or 12.8? Who decides this anyway?” But then it’s about to happen. I ran the last 200 yards pretty quickly so that it would be over! I remember looking for my husband, who had already preplanned where he would be. And then I crossed the line. And the truth is…..nothing happened. I didn’t change forever. I didn’t find a new inner peace. I didn’t become someone new. I simply finished the race I’d been training to run because the truth is (and I have to admit I stole this from my trainer 😉 ) the real work was in the training; the race is the reward. It was in the training that I became a runner. It was during the training that I could feel my life changing. That’s when I was becoming someone new, not in the single moment when I crossed the line.

After the Race Chaos

Wow. I had no idea. The first thing I did when I crossed was find my husband and hug him. I teared up a little because of what I’d just done. He kissed me and said how proud he was. Then you get your medal. They just had them to you like no big deal. I thought I’d have to bow or scan my badge or be knighted by the queen but…..they just hand them to you. I’ll let this slide because it was a firefighter. Then the free stuff comes. The next thing you know you’re getting three bottles of water and a tote bag. You apparently put the bottles in said tote. Then you get stickers and soda and granola bars and Gatorade and jelly beans and coupons and braclets and frizbees and pretzels and banans and whoa. CAN A GIRL JUST SIT DOWN? You know what the only post-race need they don’t meet IMMEDIATELY after crossing the finish line? A CHAIR. The swag after a race like this is incredible. Too bad I have “runner’s brain’ and can’t process half of what’s going on except that I’m being shuffled down this aisle of free stuff and I’m separated from my hubby who’s the only person I DO want to see? Luckily I made it to the end of the ‘tunnel of swag’ and found not only my hubby but THREE of my other favorite people there to support me. It was an incredible feeling to have everyone there together!

Overall I was ecstatic about how I ran the race. I had lose times that I wanted to get and I hit them all! My official time though my tracker was 2:20:18 which I will take ALL. DAY. LONG! I only rested during my timed rests and never once took an extra one. I ran strong mentally and physically! I couldn’t have been happier!

After a race, don’t forget to thank those around you. Everyone in my life was affected by my running schedule or at minimum my incessant need to talk about running. I hope everyone around me knows how much I appreciate their love and support. I know everyone always thinks I’m the one that’s strong, but it’s only because I have such support that I’m able to succeed at anything.

May 3, 2015

Things I’ve Learned about Being a Runner #4

And so the running continues. Sorry for the lapse in posts! School has been getting more and more busy to end out the year. Between school, boxing and running, I feel so busy all the time! I’m glad that the race is now only two weeks away! I can’t believe it came so quickly.

Last Week: 15 miles (including 11.3 in the rain, and 2.8 in paint!)

This Week: 16.3 miles (including 13.1 all at once!)

Right now is going to be a general post about running. See also my posts about running in PAINT and running 11.3 miles in the rain! I wasn’t quite sure how to do either…..but I made it through both!

What I really want to post about today is running 13.1 miles, all by myself.

Mindset

When I tell people what I did over the weekend, they are shocked how far I can run. I try not to act like it’s no big deal, but it kind of isn’t anymore. Running for me is so mental, that I just set a goal and do it. I don’t always run as fast or long or smooth as I want. I’m never happy with my pace. But if I leave the house to run 13.1 miles. I run 13.1 miles. To date, I have never cut a run short by mileage. I have taken extra walking breaks or stopped to go to the bathroom or facebooked……or whatever to give myself extra recovery time. I have literally stopped and yelled “I HATE PUDDLES!” because I was so frustrated. But I have never cut my mileage short. It’s fulfilling a promise to myself that I can see results in in just a few hours.

Time

Running more than 5-7 miles takes a lot of TIME. By the time I’ve changed, found all my gear, set up my devices and put sunscreen on, it’s been 20 minutes. Plus run time. When I get back, I usually sit down and drink something and space out. I call this my “Stupid TIme.” When I ran 13.1 miles, it took me: 2 hours and 41 minutes. Plus prep, stupid time and a shower, it took four hours to run on Saturday. I have always toyed with the idea of running a full marathon but I officially never want to. If this is how long it takes for a half, there’s no way I can commit to a full.

Everyone Thinks They Are A Runner

Lots and lots of people talk to me about running. I can’t tell you how many people say “I ran a 5K once!” as if it’s traveling to the moon. Now, let me be frank. There was absolutely a time in my life where, having run one 5K, I felt like a badass. And I do think that accomplishing any fitness milestone, even a 5K, should be celebrated. But I’m training for a half marathon, and I don’t even hit my stride until a 5K has passed. I feel like a total running snob now. And……it feels pretty freaking awesome.

The Sidewalk Shuffle

One would think, that since I live in a major city, there are sidewalks everywhere. I assure you. THIS IS NOT THE CASE. There are areas of town that all have sidewalks. But there are weird pockets of town, that you can’t find one anywhere. Is there an app to show you the best course (with sidewalks?) in your city for the distance you want to go? This could be genius. Dibs.

On my last three long runs, I decided to just go for it and see how far the mileage ‘square’ was. My first try was ok. My second was ‘meh’. And my third was terrible. Even though I drive down the street all the time, I never notice if there is a sidewalk. I just assume (and you know what they say!) that since it’s a major driving road, it has sidewalks. False. So false.

13.1 Miles is………well A LOT

Again, since I live in the city, everything is less than 2 miles away. In order to run 13.1 miles, and see a little of the course, I ran 6 miles straight to the East and back, with a lap in the park. 6 miles straight East is FAR. I could not believe how many things I passed that I usually drive to. I just said to Dan today, “Now that I can run 13.1 miles, everything in the city feels like it’s within walking distance.” And. Well. It’s kind of true. We are only 2.5 miles from downtown. Sometimes I wonder why we drive at all?!

I did get pretty bored running 13.1 miles. It was a weird temperature outside. Hot but cold but muggy but normal. After 2 hours…..I wanted to quit. Not because it was too hard or I couldn’t finish. I was just bored and ready to be done. But I used some motivation from my hubby, my friends, and trainers and just did it. Even though I knew I could, I still can’t believe it’s done!

April 24, 2015May 3, 2015

My First Rounds

On Tuesday, April 14th I was heading to my gym, Touch Em Up, like it was any normal day and expecting the normal workout. What I got was SO much more.

As I’m pulling up to the gym, my trainer, Jameson Bostic, calls wondering when I’d arrive. He never calls so I knew something was up. When I arrived, he asked me about getting in the ring with fellow trainee/general badass/model hot, Jesse. My first instinct was to laugh. Was he serious? “She’s just going to work defense so try to get her good. She won’t punch back.” He says. So wait. I have a chance to get in the ring with someone I totally admire and I can only punch her? Yes please!

So we all hop on treadmills to get our blood flowing. One by one he suits us up for the ring. Wow. I really had no idea. Not only are there special gloves for the ring, there’s special padding to wear. You wear something called a cup to protect your sides and organs. Also a helmet that is surprisingly uncomfortable. Oh and this protective gear that you wear only makes you sweat about 17 gallons.

While we are suiting up, the rules changed. Jesse’s coach didn’t see much point in her only working defense. So I actually agreed to take punches. We did agree to no faces however. I simply can’t go to school looking like a thug even for fitness reasons. Also, Jesse had a photo shoot (?!?) the next day. So before I knew it, here I am standing in the ring with a girl who actually does competition fights, whose ready to hit me.

PAUSE. I, Kimberly Galbreath, have never been in a fight. My sister and I just weren’t fighters. We just didn’t really get into physical fights. Through middle school and high school, other than using my mouth, I never got in a fight. Even as an adult, I’ve never had to physically hurt someone. The closest I’ve ever come was shoving a homeless guy trying to get into our building. I’ve never thrown a real punch with the intention of hurting the other person. In some ways, (although very few) I really am just a white Midwestern girl.

So we are all suited up for the ring. And I’m not even nervous. I can’t explain it but somehow I knew I’d be fine. I trust my coaches and know they only have my best interest at heart. This is absolutely key within a relationship with your trainer. Jameson explains the round time (2 minute fight with 30 second rest) and gives me a quick minute of advice and what to throw. And then the bell rings.

When the bell rings, you forget about everything else. This person is about to punch you and it’s your job to punch back and try not to get hit. Well, turns out I’m not very good at either of those things. While I felt confident that I could survive the rounds alive, I knew I wasn’t experienced enough to win. After 5 or 6 rounds, I survived. I was able to get some good throws in but I freeze. Whenever Jesse would get a good combo in, I would just stand and brace the punches instead of using my punches to get her away from me. My footwork is slow so she was able to outpace me for sure. But, even though I definitely lost, I got in the ring and fought several rounds with an amateur Colorado Golden Gloves competitor and it was awesome.

During the rounds, I took several good hits from her. I expected every punch to leave a mark and wake up the next day with bruises everywhere. I took one to the chest and right hip that hit HARD and even one accidental to the face. But, I only ended up with one injury. All the other hits went away within minutes. The injury I got, was because of my own defense and I know in the future I’ll be much better at defending!

I ended up with a cracked rib/bruised rub/tweaked ligament or something. The left side of my chest hurt immediately after getting hit and continued to bother me through the remainder of the rounds. My breathing was shallow and it hurt to take deep breaths. But it didn’t seem so bad. Later that night I even ran 4 miles. By the time I got back from my run, I knew it wasn’t good. My chest bothered me all through the run and when I got back I had to take ibruprofen and ice it. This continued for several days. I asked advice from my coaches and alerted them to what was hurting so they could help adjust my workouts for the rest of the week. They also told me it was best to work through it instead of taking time off.

Now, 5 days out, they were right. Now I know what I can do with an injury. My chest continues to get better even though I haven’t rested a single day since. I’ve even already gotten back in the ring to work offense. However, I’ve grounded myself from any more real sparring. Since my goal and focus right now is the marathon, I can’t risk doing activities at the gym that might risk my training. So, 5 weeks from now, you bet you’ll see me back in the ring!