Wednesday, January 3, 2018

Note to Self...

appy New Year!  There's something so special about new's like getting a brand new journal.  You get to write whatever you want in those beautiful blank pages. It's not about resolutions, it's about creating your own destiny. There's a lot of power in that.  This year, I'm going to do my best to tap into that power and write an amazing with a truly happy ending. I'll let you know how it goes.

Right now, things aren't looking so hot. For all the hard work I put in during 2015, I've let it all come crashing down around me. I let go of my dream, lost sight of the vision I had for my life and my health. That's all it takes to lose it. If you have it, folks...don't let it go. Ever. 

This morning, I sat on my bed and looked at my reflection in the mirror across from me.  I saw a middle aged woman who was absolutely radiating misery.  At 292+ pounds, I'm the heaviest I've ever been, and I cannot imagine how people can go higher, how my skin could hold any more weight, how I could even function. Yet, every day you hear amazing, inspirational stories about someone who had (or in some cases still has) a much larger number on that scale. It's overwhelming to even contemplate.

One day, many days away from today, I'm going to be tempted to stop what I'm doing, to take a break from my routine, to cut myself some slack....just for a few days. Or maybe a month. Or two.  On that day, I want to be able to look back at this post and remind myself of what it's like to weigh 292 pounds.

· Having to sit up in stages when the alarm goes off because the lower back pain from laying in one position all night is agonizing.
· Being terrified of stepping into the shower, for fear of sliding/falling/breaking things. 
· Not being able to adequately reach your feet/back/god-knows-what to wash them properly without incredible strain.
· Having to buy stock in Gold Bond to keep the sweaty parts from turning into yeast infections.
· Not being able to step into your underwear because you can't lift your feet high enough.
· Not being able to fasten your bra without almost forcing your shoulders out of joint.
· Living with a grand total of two pairs of pants and four shirts for the better part of a year and a half, because you refuse to 'waste' money on anything that looks like Otto the Tentmaker whipped it up.
· Resigning yourself to the fact that no matter how much you spend, or how stylish the garment, anything you put on your body will ultimately still look like Otto made it.
· Buying tennis shoes that slip on because tying your shoes is impossible.
· Cramming yourself behind the steering wheel, and struggling to get the seat belt buckled.
· Dealing with constant sciatic pain, knee/hip pain and legs/feet losing circulation because of the constant pressure of just sitting.
· Struggling....actually having to contort your body into the weirdest possible attend to the most basic personal toilette.
· Getting seriously winded just walking from your desk to your car in the afternoon.
· Not caring what you eat, just as long as somebody else cooks it, because you have zero energy.
· Not being able to sit or kneel on the ground because you literally can not get back up.  Ever. Even with help.
· The embarrassment that follows the above.
· Always worrying about whether the thing you're about to sit on will hold you without collapsing.
· Struggling with circulation issues so bad you can literally never get your feet warm.
· Waddling...seriously...everywhere you go because you have to shift your weight with each step.
· Swollen ankles.
· Heart palpitations.
· Depression.
· Indigestion.
· Constipation.
· Sleeping on your stomach by default like a beached whale all night, because sleeping on your right side makes you snore and sleeping on your left side makes you fart like an ox.
· Living in fear of falling because your balance sucks.
· Living in fear of getting stuck somewhere because you don't fit.
· Living in fear of judgmental people.
· Living in fear of getting your picture taken.
· Living in fear.

Last night, I stopped by the grocery store and bought what I needed to prep my meals this week.  This morning, I got up in enough time to actually prep my food for the day, and I waddled

half a mile after work.  It's a start. It feels like a start I've made so many times in the past. But in order to get where I want to order to have a day 365, I have to have a day one.

Good thing I love new beginnings so much.

Tuesday, July 25, 2017

Every Day I'm Hustlin'

 r so it seems these days.  I swear, it's so much harder to find time to THINK, much less ACT on anything, even stopping to get gas, these days. My life has become way too hectic. I'm not sure how I got here, but I know I have to Slow It Down if I ever hope to regain control of it.

Yesterday is a great example of what I've been dealing with lately. I had two things I wanted to accomplish yesterday before I got home: I wanted to go get a run in (yes, RUN), and I had to drop a dish off at a friend's house on my way home. That was it. I told Keith I'd be home around 5:30-6:00pm, at the latest. Somehow during the day, that exploded into an hour-long run, followed by the pet store, the home building store, the grocery store, the gas station, and THEN my friend's house. I did manage to consolidate some of it down to a stop at Wally World (gawd I despise that place!!!), and I put my friend off until tomorrow.  But even just that put me getting home after 7pm. Day Officially Gone.

Despite all that, I'm very proud that I did NOT try to short-change myself by shortening my run. I call it a run...but what it was was Week One, Day One of Runkeeper's beginner 5k training plan. It was only supposed to be a 1.5 mile walk (or very slow run), but since my fastest run right now IS very slow, I tried to walk at a very fast pace. I was feeling pretty good yesterday, though, and since the trail I was on was very shady, and at least partly downhill, I decided to trot along as much as I could for as long as I could. That turned out to be a little over a quarter of a mile, which I was ecstatic about.  I may have been able to go a little farther, but my shade ran out as the trail crossed the interstate over a bridge that had full...and brutal...exposure to the sun. 

I decided to walk a ways.

At the 1 mile marker, I turned around, and headed back, running any parts that were shady and down hill. Not sure there was much of that, actually, but by the time I hit cool-down, I was very sure that I could not and SHOULD not have run any more than I did. My hip was yelling pretty fiercely that I had done it a serious injustice, and for the first time in a good while, I was pouring sweat. 

It felt so good to be out there again...not just walking in my work clothes, but actually putting on my sweats, tying up my hair, inserting my earbuds, cranking up my tunes and going all was amazing.  It didn't hurt that I'd been fantasizing (yes, really) about hitting the trail again.  I have missed this part of my life so much, it's unreal.  I can't wait until I can really get out and run again... a whole, entire, several-miles long run. 

Pure bliss.

I know that this is one day of my life.  And I know that to get where I want to be, I'm going to have to string a whole lot of these kinds of days together.  But you have to start somewhere, and for me, that was yesterday.  I'd be lying if I said I don't have Grand Plans right now...visions of future race bling are dancing in my head as I type...but right now, I'm just going to be happy to finish Week One, Day Two...which will happen tomorrow. 

I'm back to an 'every other day' schedule, right now.  It will mean some major adjustments, but I think even Keith can acknowledge how important it is for me to regain continuity and consistency right now if I'm going to gain any traction to dig myself out of this hole I've been in for so long.  It will come. I believe in myself enough to know that it will. Now, I just need to believe that I'm worth investing the time in more than everything else in my life that always seems to take precedence over what I need.  Therein lies the challenge.


Thursday, July 20, 2017

Hey, Wait Up

Iron Mountain
I love to hike. It sounds like a simple statement, but it wasn’t always the case.

The first time I went hiking I was around 13. We moved from the middle of Georgia to the coast of North Carolina and my best friend, Mary-Ann, took me on a trip with her parents. I was so excited to have been invited it didn’t really matter to me where we were going or what we’d be doing when we got there. It was the first time I’d ever felt chosen. So, I didn’t take in the fact I was meant to walk for miles and cart my chubby, out of shape, asthmatic carcass up a mountain. So, imagine my surprise when I stepped onto the dirt path and realized what I had gotten myself into. My legs were aching, my lungs were on fire, and I was self-conscious and miserable the entire time.

The three of them, on the other hand, looked like it was the easiest thing in the world- they barely had the decency to sweat.

The more I struggled, the more smiley and encouraging they got, which felt sadistic and patronizing even though I know they were only trying to be supportive and motivate me. I was dragging behind them like an anchor that fell from a boat. I started to get angry with myself because I couldn’t enjoy this, I couldn’t be happy with them. The first time someone ever wanted to include me in something and I was blowing it. I wanted to cry. I wanted to sit down in a nest of dirty roots and bawl like a baby because this was really hard. Every time the path tilted up in the slightest degree, a wave of dread washed over me.

I don’t remember the trees, or the air, or the animals, or the laughing, or the view when we reached the top, or even if we did. That’s been something I’ve regretted all my life. I don’t remember anything but shame and struggle, much like my life up to that point. 

Stone Mountain

The next time I went hiking was a few years later.

I was with my family, back in Georgia, and we were hiking up Stone Mountain. Everyone was buzzing with excitement where as I was just praying it was easy, that it wouldn’t take long, and anxiety was draped around my shoulders like a freezing cold blanket. Each step was more difficult than the one before and I could feel the weight of my body pulling me back towards the start. I leaned forward, pushing against it like a fish swimming against the current. How long had we been climbing? Hours? Days

The heat smothered us relentlessly and my sweaty skin was gritty from the dirt of the trail. There was no relief, no choice but to push through the pain. The last part of the hike was a steep crawl up bald granite, my calves felt like molten lava and my lungs felt like a pressure cooker about to explode. My body was screaming at me to quit, but, for some reason, my heart was dismissing that entirely. I didn’t want to stop. I just wanted to get out of this all consuming misery, this agony. I thought about my old friend Mary-Ann and how I missed an adventure because I couldn’t cope. The same thing was happening all over again. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, both hands gripping the stone beneath me. Then, something incredible happened…

I gave up.

Not physically, that would be a horrible story to tell you... mentally, I stopped caring. Weird, right? I didn’t stop hurting. I just accepted it. I stopped focusing on it and I noticed a gust of wind was caressing my skin, filling my shirt like the sails of a boat. The sensation shot a bolt of electricity through me and I climbed the rock like I was chasing the breeze. Suddenly, I was almost to the top. I heard my cousin laughing at something and turned just in time to see her smiling up at me. That’s right. Up. I had passed her. I was still struggling, still burning, still aching, but I could see the city in the distance, the faint skyline of Atlanta sitting like a trophy among the trees… and clouds… and birds. I walked slowly around the summit for a long time thinking, “This is it. This is my peace.. and it's the one thing I thought I hated."

The more I focused on my goal and the good things around me, the less I noticed the struggle.

Roan Mountain
On the way back down the mountain, having made a significant breakthrough, I merrily bounded along the path almost at a run, when I passed a young couple on their way to the top. The man looked up at me and frowned, “I wish I had that much energy.” I laughed and almost shouted back, “You do! It’s in there! You just have to find it!”

Everything seemed so much clearer... so much easier.

Now, pushing through a hike always feels like pushing through life- it gives me peace when I’ve reached the goal and it teaches me patience and endurance along the way. I’m over twice the age I was when I first climbed Stone Mountain and I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve climbed it since. It’s actually one of the easiest hikes I’ve taken (I've scaled a freakin' volcano!) and I use the lesson I learned from it for my life, as well as on the trails- Sometimes the path is narrow, or rocky, or hidden, or straight up. Sometimes it’s hot, or painful, or tiring, or hard, but keep moving and don’t miss the beauty of where you are or where you’re going.

Quitting is easy. You can walk away at any time, but don’t keep dreaming about the summit if you’re willing to give it up.

I'm still chubby and asthmatic, but I don't let things like that hold me back. In fact, it’s funny how unyielding I can be, how unwilling to stop or to settle, once I have the vision of the summit in my mind, once I feel the wind on my face, and how often I find myself having to sit and wait for other people to catch up, but like I said, I love to hike. 

Blood Mountain

Checkout Jescole's blog- Wholeness for the Broken 

Treading Water (originally posted on my daughter's blog Wholeness for the Broken)

grew up in the middle of downtown Atlanta. As a result, I had very little experience with pools, or swimming in general. Occasionally, a neighbor would take me with their kids to a neighborhood pool they knew about, and we’d splash around in the shallow end, and play underwater a little, thinking we were really doing something. We were. We were having fun. 

When I got a little older, I went to spend the summer with an older cousin. She was a teacher, and needed a couple of days to finish up before summer vacation began, so she asked me if I could swim. Naturally, I said yes…what kid doesn’t love the thought of spending the day at the pool, even if it’s by yourself? (In those days, there was no ‘stranger danger’. We went all over the place by ourselves.) Once there, however, the shallow end quickly lost its appeal when I saw all the ‘big’ kids going to the other end and jumping off the diving board.

I should inject here that I had zero experience with diving boards. I had never been in a pool that had one. Ever.

What fun, I thought, never stopping to think that they were jumping into very deep water. And when I followed after them, I almost drowned. The lifeguard, bless him, jumped in with his glasses on to save me. I never mentioned it to anyone for fear I’d never be allowed to go swimming again.

My life changed pretty drastically as I transitioned into my teen years. I lost my mother. My dad remarried. We moved to the ‘burbs. I gained a whole new family. And I began to be exposed to many things I’d only heard or read about…one of which was how the ‘other’ half lived. One of my new Aunts and Uncles lived within walking distance from our house, and they built a pool in their back yard. Not just a blow-up, either…a full Olympic-sized in-ground pool.

With a diving board.

Previous experience taught me to stay in the shallow, and because by this time I was freely admitting that I could NOT swim, no one pushed me to venture out. One day, I was goofing around, pushing my new mom around in an inner tube, and accidentally strayed too close to the deep end. My foot slipped on the slope, and I went down. Panic ensued, and although it was a very tense few minutes, my mom was able to save me from my own foolishness. I spent a very long time after that wearing the Ski Belt of Shame. It mortified me that nobody trusted me to be in the pool without it, but that ski belt helped me learn something incredibly valuable…how to tread water.

Treading water is a learned skill, just like swimming. It helps you hold your place, to hold your head above the water. You don’t go anywhere, you are not traveling, you just…survive. All life forms innately know how to die, but we must be taught how to survive the events that seek to deprive us of our existence, either by experience or example. Even more importantly, we must also be taught how to thrive. Any fool can drown, but you must be taught to hold your own when life is trying to pull you under. And if you really want to get somewhere in life…to thrive…then you’ve got to learn how to swim.

Too often in my life, I’ve come close to drowning, literally and metaphorically, but somehow I’ve managed to keep my head above water. There is no shame in that…it’s why I’m still here. I’m very proud of that skill, even more in some ways than I am of being able to swim. Swimming is great, no doubt (and yes, I did finally learn how), but there are days when it’s all you can do just to tread water. It’s in those days…those moments, when you feel like the undertow is doing its best to suck you under, that you know that treading water may be absolutely the most valuable skill you will ever learn.

Life has provided me many teachers in many forms…nasty divorces, custody battles, financial difficulties, deaths, incarcerations…you name it. Through it all, the skill of treading water enabled me to get through it when others may have drowned. The older I get, the more I have realized how valuable it is to be able to do that, and how very much I have taken that skill for granted in the past. Not everyone has that skill…but I do.

More recently, I have finally really begun to learn the skill of thriving. Not only can I hold my head above water, I can also actively swim toward shore to get out of the water entirely. I can be safe. I can be secure. And I can effect my own rescue, without waiting for someone to come and save me.
Learning this skill is still very much a work in progress. I am continuously practicing that skill to improve it on a daily basis. It takes a lot of hard work to pull yourself out of the water, especially if you’ve been treading for a long time. Treading is exhausting work. Swimming is both more tiring and more freeing at the same time. Two years ago, I began the work of learning how to thrive in earnest. I was making huge progress, and had the shore in sight.

Last year, the undertow caught me, and tried very hard to suck me back out to sea. Someone less skilled in treading water may have drowned. But Michael Phelps has nothing on me. I am a Champion Water Treader, and I am very proud of that fact.

Now that I’ve caught my breath, I am beginning the process of once again swimming toward shore. I’ve got my eye on a nice little lighthouse in the distance, so I am striking out toward that. It may take me a while to get there, but that’s ok. I’ve got nothing but time, and with every stroke I take, my skill is getting stronger.

Dory…I’m coming for you.

Tuesday, May 23, 2017

Weekend Wrap-Up and a Challenging Week Ahead

his past weekend went very well for us.  Although Keith had to work late Friday and all day Saturday, I took the time to clean and do stuff that is hard to do with him underfoot.  That gave me a great calorie burn on Saturday, and although I got very weak from forgetting to eat (!!!) on time, I did NOT go off-plan, and I managed to get all my water in, too. I'm very proud of that. 

I'm even prouder of the fact that although we both took the day off and just rested on Sunday, I stayed on plan all day then, too.  In fact, so far, I've managed to pretty much stay on track the entire week, with the exception of Monday...I did go over my calorie limit a wee bit, but every other day, I haven't even come close to my limit, so I didn't beat myself up over it. 

Advanced preparation is absolutely the key for me.  When I take the time to get it together for my day, I feel prepared, and I don't let things blindside me. I feel in control of my day, and am much less triggered by anything going on around me.  Case in point:  twice this past week, food has waltzed into my office, and neither time have I been interested in partaking.  That's a huge victory for me.

I've also stayed on track with my far, I've only missed one day (Sunday), which was a planned rest day anyway.  I also count that as a major win.  The Tweetsie Trail has been truly beautiful, incredibly shady, and very welcoming. I've missed being out here like I can't even say, and I'm so very happy to be back. I seriously can't wait until I'm pounding it out again, but I'm really trying hard not to rush myself. I want to do this as not to overtax my body, and right now, that means walking, not running.
This week, there is a lot of unrelated drama going on in our personal lives. That makes it hard to stay on track, so I know I'm going to be fighting the rest of the week to stay strong.  Tomorrow is weigh-in, and I know that there will be a loss, if due to nothing more than water loss.  But next week may tell a different story if I can't keep it together.  I mentioned before that it was all about preparation for goal this week is to stay seriously focused on my goals, even if it means putting blinders on.

Thursday, May 18, 2017

A Good Start

esterday went very well, as Day Ones go. I got up early, prepped my meals, stayed strictly on point with my eating all day, got my walking in, got my water in, went home, whipped up a decent little one-dish meal (still on point), and managed to finish well within my allotted calories.

It was a better than a good day, it was a great day. But I was exhausted by last night.  Staying on track all day took every bit of energy I had, and then some.  This makes me incredibly know that just standing at the sink washing up a few dishes is enough to make my feet hurt and my back groan.  Walking from my desk to my car in the afternoon gets me so winded that by the time I get behind the wheel, I'm blowing like a Derby winner.

I feel what my body is going through, how much it hates to move right now, and I remember how well it moved not that long much it craved moving, how strong it was.  I know that I am capable of doing that again, and so much more.  Yes, I am impatient to get back to that point, to get my life back on track again...but I got here, and I have to allow myself the time it will take to get back.  None of this is an easy process...gaining all this wasn't any easier than losing it was. In fact, it was much, much harder in many ways.  The stress I was under last year almost killed me.  I would have much preferred to be able to continue leaving work on time every day to hit the trail, to keep losing, to be more and more active in exploring the world around me.  But instead, I was strapped to the hamster wheel, and I lost so much more than the progress I had made....I almost lost myself.

Today, I thank God I am still here...alive and kicking.  Over the past two months, I did something long overdue...underwent a battery of testing to make sure that I was still fundamentally healthy, so that I wouldn't have any reason to doubt my body could handle the change in physical activity after doing so much damage to it this past year.  My doctor, thank God, gave me a clean bill of health and pronounced me sound enough to run as soon as I was able.  I am very, very thankful for that, and I don't intend to waste the opportunity I have to get back what I had.

Wednesday, May 17, 2017

Ups and Downs....and Ups.

Well, I did it. I fell off the wagon again. And this time, I did it GOOD. I can officially say that I weighed in this morning at my highest weight EVER...284.

Gawd, I can't believe I just wrote that number. How....HOW...could I have ever gotten that high again, after everything I went through to get it down?

I don't know, but I do know that I have never been more miserable than I am at this moment in time. I feel like I'm ten months pregnant with elephant twins....I'm actually waddling when I walk. Not acceptable. Not now, not ever.

So....I can either keep pissing and moaning about it, or I can get busy.  Last time I did this, I tried to do it with others.  That doesn't work for me, I know this from past experience, and that hasn't changed.  I need to do this alone to be successful. That doesn't mean that I can't do occasional meet-ups in the afternoon to walk or run. What it does mean is that I need to plan my day for MYSELF, and not try to work others into it. And then if they can go with me, and it's convenient for me, then I can and will. But if it's not convenient, then I need to take a hard pass and stay on track.

Many people don't do well without someone else to motivate them and hold their hand during the process.  I tend to be much better motivation than anyone else could be for me, and I honestly love the time I spend alone on the track or trail, because it gives me a chance to work with my inward self, if that makes block out the world and focus on me...what's going on inside. I can't do that if I'm focusing on drowns out my inner voice.

That may sound all zen and crap, but I really don't mean it to. I just mean that I need to strap on my own oxygen mask before I can save others on the Fat Plane.

Today is a good day to start over. There is a 2k walk planned to start this morning here on station, and I have worn my running shoes in preparation.  Although I am far from running anywhere anytime soon, I'm pretty sure I've got it in me to waddle that far.  I've also managed to get up early this morning and prep all my food for the day, so I know that today will be a good day, because I've already planned it that way.

Every day should start like that.

Thursday, February 16, 2017

Plugging Along

Yes, I know it's been a minute since I've posted, but not because I've slacked off and gone back into hiding, thank goodness. Not this time. I've actually been a very good girl this past week, but a very busy one, as well.

Oh, and all that I said in my last post about getting all frisky and running extra between my scheduled runs?

HA. No need. None.

These girls have been knocking it out of the park on every run we've had since then. I am so incredibly proud of them both! Neither Angie nor her daughter Kailey have ever run before, and they are both smokers, to boot. But they have already gotten to the point where they are pacing me on each run we have done, and are improving far faster than I am.  Of course, I haven't really been pushing myself, either, but at this rate, I will be very, very soon. Maybe even sooner than I'm ready to push, lol.

Not complaining at all. Believe me.

We have been using Runkeeper's Beginning 5K training program, which has us running every other day, and so far, we've only missed one day (Valentine's Day). That was my fault...I had a minor issue that felt like a major one and required an after-work doctor's visit, which cut out our run time that day. Thankfully, it was completely worth it, and I am Not Sorry.  I'm just going to mark that run as skipped and move on.

Today will be our first run in four days. Intervals are on the schedule and I am really looking forward to winding it out a bit.  We'll be going back to the track for this run, but I made the mistake of introducing the girls to the joy of running the Tweetsie instead of track work, and now they're spoiled, so I expect to hear a lot of belly-aching today when we get there. That's ok, there's a place and time for track work, too. Thankfully, it's not too often, and most of our runs WILL be on the Tweetsie, especially on the shady parts of it this summer.

The crazy weather is still holding for the most part, although we did have a bit of unexpected snow yesterday, and as a consequence, is a bit chilly today. But the sun is shining, and there is no snow or ice on the ground. In February. In the mountains.  Color me extremely happy.

And last, but certainly not least, I lost another .5 pounds when I stepped on the scale on Weigh-In Wednesday. Any loss is a good one, as far as I'm concerned....and most definitely a step in the right direction.
 How about you?  Having unusually awesome weather where you are?

Wednesday, February 8, 2017

Running with Friends

This weather is CRAZY. Like, seriously. The last couple of winters here have been really brutal, and I guess I've gotten it in my head that it's the norm, but this year has been very mild so far (knock on wood). I've been really happy about that for several reasons, the main one being that I'm sick of having to deplete my leave every winter because I'm snowbound and can't get to freaking work.  Last year, winter completely derailed me.  And this year, now that I have a treadmill in the house, the weather has been in the 60's with very little snow. I've only been housebound one day so far. One. Day.


But in the best kind of way.  I just wish I could say I've been taking full advantage of it.

I've really got to get better at getting outside. I'm still too chained to my desk for my liking, and I've got to get harsher with myself and MAKE myself go walk at lunch, if nothing else.

Monday, I finally started my Beginner 5k program.  I'm so stinking excited to be back out on the track, I can't even.  I convinced my friend Angie to do this with me, so that we can both run the Covered Bridge 5k in June, and she agreed, but she has never run before, so when I say 'beginner', I really mean it.  I am so stinking excited to share this journey with her and her daughter, Kailey! I was kind, though...after 10 months of no running, I had a vested interest in slowing my roll, too, so even though the plan called for a five minute warm-up, followed by a mile and a half of running or walking, we basically wound up doing interval shuffles.  Walked for about a half loop around the track, shuffle-ran the rest of the way, until we got a mile and a half in.  Then we walked a cool down lap. That's cool, because even shuffles mean you're moving.

It was really hard for me to keep it a shuffle, though. I didn't think it would be, but Kailey went with us, and with all the abundant energy of youth, she kept bouncing out in front of us. I told her to keep going, but she hovered, and I'm kind of glad because watching her take off would have made me itch too much to join her.  At the end of the run, I felt like I hadn't really run at all, and I never got out of breath, or really even pushed myself, even though Angie was all in.  They both did so, so well, and I am so very proud of them, especially Angie, who laid it all out on the line....but I was also proud of myself, to discover that maybe...just maybe...I wasn't quite as out of shape as I had led myself to believe.

Today, we'll be headed back to the track for our second training session...intervals. I'm going to work hard to get Angie to push it with each interval (they're only one minute apiece, but that can seem like an eternity when you're just starting out), but I'm not sure that our pace will improve much from Monday's (which I think was in the 21 min/mi range). That's ok, but I find that I'm really feeling antsy, and that's not ok. I really want to run. I want to push myself, to feel my muscles respond, to feel like I've accomplished something hard. And that's not going to happen for a while.

So...I think maybe what I'm going to do is to try and sneak in a run here and there on my own, between my run dates with Angie, on the days I know she won't be running.  Just until the initial training process is over, I don't think I'll have to do it for very long.  I wasn't sore at all the morning after, or even that night, and I usually am after a run, so I know that if I add a run or two through the week, I won't be overtaxing my body. I really think I'm ready for that step.

In other news, I managed to drop a couple of pounds this week (the two that I gained back last week), so I'm back on track, even if it IS a couple of weeks late.  All forward motion counts, right?


How about you?  Ever tried to help someone else get into running or some other physical activity? How did you handle it? Were you successful?