May 11: Back up on the horse-wagon

Hello my little two-bite brownies,

[Aside: after a quick perusal of the Goog, it seems that Homestyle Two Bite Brownies are a Canadian delicacy, available in some US markets, but not pervasively. One less delicioush temptation for my American fwiends to deal with...]

Well anyway. Now that I've made myself crave. Just a quick check in. I gained .4 this week, which, considering my steely lack of determination last week is not bad. I have re-doubled my efforts this week (oh, except I finished off the dregs of the Miaouw's bag of Ringolo's last night. And some sort of nomtastic goodies in the kitchen at work yesterday. Pawdammit, everywhere I turn I am confronted by delicioushnesh.)

Anyway, inspired by my colleague and namesake L-Mac2, I have decided this will be a week of perspiration. Ran on Sunday night, worked out hard yesterday with Derek, and tonight I have big plans to go to a group exercise class at Good Life. Not sure which one/which location yet. If I don't do that, I will go home and run. But I thought it would be good to change it up a bit. Plus, the group ex classes are an hour, which I am less likely to do on my own, je confess. I'm looking at Body Pump, which combines light weights with cardio. Or maybe Body Combat: a-judo, a chop-chop-chop! I like the kicking and punching business.

Anyway, the big plan is to work out in some capacity every day this week. It's mighty do-able. I gotta give thanks to my girl L-Mac2 for her shining example. I love how we all inspire each other to do more.

So, what are you going to do this week to achieve the perspiration goal? (I've decided my goal shall be your goal. Unless you don't want to.) If you're still tied to your couch (no judgies! I love the greencouch), here's something to consider: The Couch Potato Workout. I've been meaning to try it for awhile. Anyway, it's better than nothing!

Did I say this was a quick check in? Stop talking! (Not you. Please, continue to talk.)

May 7: Coping with success

Remind me not to go on about how great I'm doing. It only leads to my split personality type demon thing resolving to knock me down a peg or four.

Okay, no, I haven't eaten the entire city. It only feels like it. My diseased perspective sees everything as an all-or-nothing battle royale. That's how the demon thingy gets a foothold. I have a moment where I waver uncertainly and while I try to catch my balance this little self-hating punk skateboards into me and I'm splat on my ass on the sidewalk, picking up the pieces of my tattered self esteem.

Okay, no. Sorry, I do enjoy the theatrics. Basically everything's fine. I haven't given into the call of the wild eating yet. Most days this week I had a little something extra. A package of Rolos on Sunday. Two thirds of a bag of Kettle Corn popcorn on Tuesday. A small bowl of BBQ Fritos on Wednesday. Four little single serving boxes of raisins instead of one. That sort of stuff. And all week I have been fighting off a powerful urge to stop at the Shoppers Drug Mart on the way home and pick up a box of chocolates. On Tuesday I went so far as to go into the store and stare at them. That was the night I got popcorn instead - I figured 500 extra calories was a win, compared to 1500 for the chocolates. I reckon y'all would agree.

I also have done pretty much SFA this week as far as exercise. Yesterday I actually lugged my gym bag to work, full intentions to run with the Ladies, then... didn't feel like it. I lugged the bag home again, rather than leaving it at work overnight since I work out with Derek on Fridays. I told myself I might feel like running at home that night. And actually, after watching two episodes of The Last 10 Pounds Bootcamp, I even kinda wanted to go downstairs for a run. I wound up talking myself out of it.

It's all a mental game. There's a feeling of having hit a threshold for willpower or something. Rebelliousness sets in. Gah. I hate that I'm like this. I see it all unfolding as it has so many times in my life and I'm just sort of at a loss. I worry that failure is inevitable, so why not just give in to it? The little extras each night would be okay, to a point, but of course a little extra never seems like enough. There is no indulgence big enough to satisfy this craving. I know, because I will eat to the point of physical pain, rest for awhile and then return to the source of affliction, still pretending that it holds some sort of comfort. And I know it doesn't! And I know I don't want to sabotage myself! And yet, clearly I do. Or, the skate-punk demon thingy does. I kinda want to punch my own lights out a bit.

I feel like the best thing to do is to not react. Just chill, sit with the feelings as long as I can stand to, not try to stifle whatever it is that is driving this urge to sabotage myself.

Feh. God I bug myself. Anyway, whatever, I'll be fine.

May 3: Weekend of wins

Hi-yooooo!

Fresh off my triumphant finish at the Sporting Life 10k run in Toronto! Okay, I gotta admit, I didn't triumph as triumphantly as I was hoping to. I finished in 1:07:07, which is exactly 2 minutes faster than last year. This is not insignificant, but less than I was shooting for. I feel like I did not have the mental strength to soldier through, take fewer walking breaks, etc. With about 2-3 km (1.5-2 miles) left in the race, I knew that if I could focus enough to slow down my pace but keep it steady, without anymore breaks, that I could meet my goal. And I made the choice not to suffer for it. I did a good job and I'm proud of my improvement. I'm just not one of those athletes who knows how to suffer.

And really, the race felt like suffering to me. About halfway through I was thinking to myself about how much I just wanted to walk the rest of the way. I don't know if this is just something runners go through when they are out there on race day, or it's because it doesn't come naturally to me or what. Maybe I just have to keep working at it, to improve my fitness, so it isn't so difficult to finish. The first 20-30 minutes of the run went great. Although, okay. That's where there are a couple of really great downhill grades. (The advantages of which, by the way, are purchased on credit with payment in full to be delivered to my thobbing quads the next day.)

I am still determined to improve, and try again in July for the 10 miler. I think I need to train outdoors more. I figured out why the treadmill is so much easier: it creates momentum that you have to make on your own when you run outside. Anyway, I know I have been improving my times and my endurance, and I'm motivated to keep working at it, but I just want to say: don't love running. Love the challenge, though. And the benefits I've seen. It's good to set goals and work to achieve them.

Congrats to all the Ladies of the Cancer, by the way. They totally smoked. I think five (?) of them broke an hour, and the others were not far behind. Hat tip to the Torq and Kat ("wrath of" in the comments) for all their ever-lovin support and encouragement.


Okay, the other triumph this week: lost 2.4 pounds! WORD. My metabolism is like a tourist meandering along Yonge St., taking in the sites, in no great hurry, and I'm trying to get around them so I can pick up my pace. Er, I think that metaphor got away on me. Point being: slow. So if I lose more than a single pound in a week, it's great news. Thus, I was very happy with the number. I am through trying to believe that the numbers on the scale don't mean anything! I love the numbers!