Yesterday was such an awesome day that I didn't even have a spare minute to write about it. I felt so much better after deciding to get back to my "roots" and start running for myself again and stop worrying so much about racing and what everyone else is doing. After work, my husband and I went to a nice dinner with my parents and sat outside on the patio to enjoy the nice summer evening. The minute I walked in the door at home after dinner, I threw on my running clothes and shoes, strapped on my GPS tracker, and headed out the door. It was a little later than I normally head out, so I knew I only had a short amount of time before it started to get dark. Although I run on a bike trail, it crosses several roads, some of which are a bit busy at times, so I try not to be out when it's getting dark. (I guess I should really invest in some reflective gear or those cool little flashing lights - especially since the days are getting shorter and I'll be running out of daylight in Northeast Ohio pretty quickly!)
Anyhow - I digress. I didn't have much time before it started to get dark, so I was planning on just running a 2-mile route to be safe. Apparently the dark is more motivating than I thought! I finished my 2 miles just short of my personal best time! My GPS tracker was still set for a goal of 3.1 miles because I forgot to change it before I left, so as I finished mile 2, it also projected my expected finish time for the 3.1 mile goal. Although I had just sprinted the last 0.2 miles, the projected time that my GPS lady estimated for 3.1 miles sounded pretty awesome. I had a pretty good shot at a personal best for the 5k distance if I kept going at this same pace. Hmmmm....
My competitive side won out over my inability to breathe, and I started running again. I'd just run one of my fastest 2 mile routes and was going to try to run one of my best 5k routes too. It apparently wasn't enough to know I did well for 2 miles - I just had to know if I could make it in the time my GPS tracker projected. It was only 1 more mile. Well I could tell that I'd run the first 2 miles at a much faster pace than I was used to. I was tired. My legs were tired. My lungs were tired. I walked a couple times too, but I couldn't give up now. I'd already made the decision to go 3.1 miles and I have a pact with myself that I'll never go a shorter distance once I commit to it. Plus, I wanted to hear my GPS lady say a personal best when I was done - SO BADLY!!! I stuck it out and kept running. One foot in front of the other, right? :o) (That always sounds so easy in theory...) I hit mile 3, and the GPS told me I had fallen behind her original prediction. I knew I had to hurry if I wanted a shot at a person best at this point. I really dug down deep and took off at as close to a sprint as I could muster at that point. I wasn't giving up on this, but I needed to finish that last tenth of a mile in well under a minute to beat my personal best. I'm pretty sure I got some weird looks as I went "sprinting" down the trail, huffing and puffing, likely looking like I was close to death or a heart attack - but by this time, it really was getting dark, so I couldn't see them anyway!
Well I didn't quite make it in the super record time my GPS tracker originally predicted at mile 2, but I made it within a few seconds of my personal best! I felt great. I was back in the game for sure and not even thinking about anyone else or how fast and far they could run. I walked through my cool down with a smile on my face (once I could breathe again) and a great sense of accomplishment. The way I see it, it was another day to celebrate overcoming my laziness and weaknesses - and showing myself that the limits I think I have aren't really physical limits but mental limits. I'd keep busting through them if I just kept trying day after day. And that's exactly what I intend to do. :o)
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Monday, August 27, 2012
The Little Voice in My Head
Well I'm finally back into the swing of things and feeling pretty good again after taking a few too many days off from running. I had a volleyball tournament to play in all day yesterday (about 4 hours), so I didn't add insult to injury by trying to run when I came home. Instead, I took the time to relax, spend some quality time with the hubby, and settle down with my laptop to veg out for a bit.
Unfortunately, while I was out playing volleyball all day, the rest of the town was participating in huge walking/running charity event in our valley called the Panerathon. It's sponsored by Panera and is held to raise much-needed funds for cancer awareness and research - something I would gladly support if I hadn't committed to this volleyball tournament already. There were posts and pictures galore all over Facebook and other social media of my friends participating in this event, which was either a 2 mile walk/run or 10k. Here is where I have to admit that I am, in fact, human - and therefore have my faults. While I was stoked to see so many people getting together to support a wonderful cause, I couldn't help but feel a little bit disappointed in myself. Not because I hadn't participated - I firmly believe in my choice to stick to my original commitment. But because there were so many posts and pictures of people from their "first race". This is where the "me being human" part comes in. All I could think about was that it took me over a year and a half, along with lots of hard work, sweat, almost tears, sore muscles, fighting through my bad and unmotivated days, pushing myself further than I ever thought I could go, till there was not a single spot of my clothes and underwear/sports bra not soaked through with sweat, unable to breathe, and apparently looking to other passers-by like I might need an ambulance, just to do a 5k race for the first time. (I'm not exaggerating either - I am not a pansy type of girl who glistens and is afraid of breaking a nail. I took up running in the first place because I was looking for something intense and nothing else I'd tried was challenging enough. When I say I tried my hardest, you better believe there wasn't an ounce of strength or determination left when I was through.) Yet here were these people, some of whom I know had never run a day in their lives until now, doing their first race. And instead of being happy for them, I was feeling like a complete and total failure. Not to mention an embarrassment. Why was this so hard for me and so easy for everyone else? My mind went right back to all the reasons I was afraid to try a 5k race in the first place. I wasn't good enough. There were so many people better than me. I was going to look like an idiot. I'd come in dead last. I'll completely embarrass myself.
Every single one of those feelings came rushing back, and I was suddenly embarrassed for gushing on and on about my proud accomplishment of running in a real 5k race. How silly. Apparently anyone could do something like that. Now keep in mind that I have absolutely no idea whether these people participated in the 10k or the 2-mile event, and I have no idea whether they ran, sprinted, or walked leisurely the whole way. But in my mind, they all completed their respective events effortlessly and in much less time and with much more grace and style than I could ever hope for.
Cue the ever-wonderful husband here. He knew how hard I had worked for my 5k and how proud I really was to muster up the courage to take on a 5k race - and to complete it in a time that was good for me. He told me to stop comparing myself to other people. "Who cares what they do?", he said, "They're not you." And he reminded me of how far I'd come from those first couple months when I was running 2 miles in 28:30 to now running my 5k race in 31:43. And he was right. He reminded me of a quote I had saved and pinned on Pinterest awhile back that I apparently needed to see again.
And how true it is. Maybe I need to take some time off from thinking about another race and go back to running for the reasons I started running in the first place - to live a healthy lifestyle, to be fit, and to prove to myself that I could do it. Not that I won't ever consider a race again. I just think it's not what I need right now. Fall is coming up, and there really aren't many more 5k races in my area now anyway, so this will give me time to work on running just to run - for myself. Not to beat other people or their times, not to race other people. Just to run away the stresses of my day, maybe knock off a couple more pounds, and to push myself beyond the limits that my mind thinks I have.
Unfortunately, while I was out playing volleyball all day, the rest of the town was participating in huge walking/running charity event in our valley called the Panerathon. It's sponsored by Panera and is held to raise much-needed funds for cancer awareness and research - something I would gladly support if I hadn't committed to this volleyball tournament already. There were posts and pictures galore all over Facebook and other social media of my friends participating in this event, which was either a 2 mile walk/run or 10k. Here is where I have to admit that I am, in fact, human - and therefore have my faults. While I was stoked to see so many people getting together to support a wonderful cause, I couldn't help but feel a little bit disappointed in myself. Not because I hadn't participated - I firmly believe in my choice to stick to my original commitment. But because there were so many posts and pictures of people from their "first race". This is where the "me being human" part comes in. All I could think about was that it took me over a year and a half, along with lots of hard work, sweat, almost tears, sore muscles, fighting through my bad and unmotivated days, pushing myself further than I ever thought I could go, till there was not a single spot of my clothes and underwear/sports bra not soaked through with sweat, unable to breathe, and apparently looking to other passers-by like I might need an ambulance, just to do a 5k race for the first time. (I'm not exaggerating either - I am not a pansy type of girl who glistens and is afraid of breaking a nail. I took up running in the first place because I was looking for something intense and nothing else I'd tried was challenging enough. When I say I tried my hardest, you better believe there wasn't an ounce of strength or determination left when I was through.) Yet here were these people, some of whom I know had never run a day in their lives until now, doing their first race. And instead of being happy for them, I was feeling like a complete and total failure. Not to mention an embarrassment. Why was this so hard for me and so easy for everyone else? My mind went right back to all the reasons I was afraid to try a 5k race in the first place. I wasn't good enough. There were so many people better than me. I was going to look like an idiot. I'd come in dead last. I'll completely embarrass myself.
Every single one of those feelings came rushing back, and I was suddenly embarrassed for gushing on and on about my proud accomplishment of running in a real 5k race. How silly. Apparently anyone could do something like that. Now keep in mind that I have absolutely no idea whether these people participated in the 10k or the 2-mile event, and I have no idea whether they ran, sprinted, or walked leisurely the whole way. But in my mind, they all completed their respective events effortlessly and in much less time and with much more grace and style than I could ever hope for.
Cue the ever-wonderful husband here. He knew how hard I had worked for my 5k and how proud I really was to muster up the courage to take on a 5k race - and to complete it in a time that was good for me. He told me to stop comparing myself to other people. "Who cares what they do?", he said, "They're not you." And he reminded me of how far I'd come from those first couple months when I was running 2 miles in 28:30 to now running my 5k race in 31:43. And he was right. He reminded me of a quote I had saved and pinned on Pinterest awhile back that I apparently needed to see again.
And how true it is. Maybe I need to take some time off from thinking about another race and go back to running for the reasons I started running in the first place - to live a healthy lifestyle, to be fit, and to prove to myself that I could do it. Not that I won't ever consider a race again. I just think it's not what I need right now. Fall is coming up, and there really aren't many more 5k races in my area now anyway, so this will give me time to work on running just to run - for myself. Not to beat other people or their times, not to race other people. Just to run away the stresses of my day, maybe knock off a couple more pounds, and to push myself beyond the limits that my mind thinks I have.
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
Caution: Rough Road Ahead
Well I did it. I got back on the wagon yesterday and hit the trail for a good run. After a 6-day hiatus, I felt surprisingly good - and even came within 4 seconds of a personal best for my 5k time. I was feeling pretty good about myself. I mean, why wouldn't I be? I'd just had an amazing run after my longest break yet, and it didn't feel any more difficult than usual. I was right back in the game!
Or was I? Knock - on - wood. Today was a completely different story. I went back to work today after taking two days off to help out my husband who'd just had his wisdom teeth taken out, and just like with any vacation days from work, I returned only to find out that I was now simply two days further behind than I was on Friday when I left. Because even though I'm not there, the emails and phone calls don't stop pouring in just because of some wisdom teeth. So after a hectic day at work, I was feeling pretty exhausted, and the minute I walked in the door, my laptop bag and purse hit the ground and I headed straight for the kitchen. And by that, I mean straight for the chocolate chip cookies. In case you hadn't guessed, chocolate is a major weakness of mine. It's one of the only things I seem to have little willpower over and probably one of the reasons I got myself into the situation where I needed to start losing weight! In any case, I ate a few too many chocolate chip cookies ( I can usually limit myself to 1 or 2 these days and be satisfied), and then things continued to go downhill when I opened the fridge for a drink of water. I spotted the mac & cheese I'd made for my husband last night and before I knew it, there was a small bowl of it in the microwave warming itself up for my dinner. (You should also be realizing by now that I struggle with emotional eating - I'm well aware that the cookies and mac & cheese were poor choices but they just felt so comforting at the time!)
The least I could do was go change into my running clothes while it was in the microwave, right? At least I'd feel better about that decision. Unfortunately, the minute my butt hit the couch with that bowl of mac & cheese, my motivation went to play a game of hide and seek - and it was winning. I was so tired and defeated from the day that I wanted nothing more than to lay down on the couch for the rest of the night and watch TV. So I texted my husband and told him he needed to tell me I should go for a run. We have this agreement that he's my very own personal trainer when I need him, and he knows me so well that he knows just what to say to get me off the couch and out the door. He manages to find that perfect balance between being too easy on me and yelling at me or being demeaning. I'm not sure what I'd do without him sometimes! Needless to say, he came through again, and I reluctantly laced up my shoes, strapped on my arm band for my phone's GPS tracker, and walked out the door.
After my short walk to warm up, I was ready to go. I could do this again - I did it often, and I had an awesome day yesterday. Six days off didn't mean a thing, and I couldn't wait to beat my personal best today. I took my first step and instantly knew I was in trouble. With every step I took, it felt like my inner thigh muscles were repeatedly being shredded. My glutes and core muscles later joined in to compete against my inner thighs. Apparently six days off does make a difference...imagine that, right? I was honestly surprised at how quickly things could deteriorate though. Had I really lost that much of my progress in that short period of time? I guess so. Note to self - don't ever go that long without running again - it won't be pretty.
About half-way through the run, I was really struggling. My form had gone out the window, and it was all I could do to keep one foot going in front of the other. I admit to stopping a few times to walk for a couple seconds, but that's not entirely abnormal for me. Mile 2 was really rough for me (although this tends to be my toughest mile on a normal day too), and I never quite recovered from it. I ended up finishing my run with an embarrassing time of almost 2:20 more than yesterday (and that's quite a bit on just a 3.1 mile run!). But as defeated as I was feeling - I kept pushing myself to keep going. I might have walked a few steps here and there, but I wasn't about to give up. I have to give myself credit for at least hanging in there and finishing the darn thing, which was a challenge itself. I was feeling pretty down by the time I got home after my cool down, but my wonderful hubby came to the rescue again. He gave it to me straight - there was no sugar-coating. Yes it was a bad day, and yes, it was a poor choice to take 6 days off. But he was still proud of me for making the decision to get back out there and fight for what I wanted. I'd won this battle before and I could win it again. However, I think I'll stick with a brisk walk tomorrow while I recover... :o)
Or was I? Knock - on - wood. Today was a completely different story. I went back to work today after taking two days off to help out my husband who'd just had his wisdom teeth taken out, and just like with any vacation days from work, I returned only to find out that I was now simply two days further behind than I was on Friday when I left. Because even though I'm not there, the emails and phone calls don't stop pouring in just because of some wisdom teeth. So after a hectic day at work, I was feeling pretty exhausted, and the minute I walked in the door, my laptop bag and purse hit the ground and I headed straight for the kitchen. And by that, I mean straight for the chocolate chip cookies. In case you hadn't guessed, chocolate is a major weakness of mine. It's one of the only things I seem to have little willpower over and probably one of the reasons I got myself into the situation where I needed to start losing weight! In any case, I ate a few too many chocolate chip cookies ( I can usually limit myself to 1 or 2 these days and be satisfied), and then things continued to go downhill when I opened the fridge for a drink of water. I spotted the mac & cheese I'd made for my husband last night and before I knew it, there was a small bowl of it in the microwave warming itself up for my dinner. (You should also be realizing by now that I struggle with emotional eating - I'm well aware that the cookies and mac & cheese were poor choices but they just felt so comforting at the time!)
The least I could do was go change into my running clothes while it was in the microwave, right? At least I'd feel better about that decision. Unfortunately, the minute my butt hit the couch with that bowl of mac & cheese, my motivation went to play a game of hide and seek - and it was winning. I was so tired and defeated from the day that I wanted nothing more than to lay down on the couch for the rest of the night and watch TV. So I texted my husband and told him he needed to tell me I should go for a run. We have this agreement that he's my very own personal trainer when I need him, and he knows me so well that he knows just what to say to get me off the couch and out the door. He manages to find that perfect balance between being too easy on me and yelling at me or being demeaning. I'm not sure what I'd do without him sometimes! Needless to say, he came through again, and I reluctantly laced up my shoes, strapped on my arm band for my phone's GPS tracker, and walked out the door.
After my short walk to warm up, I was ready to go. I could do this again - I did it often, and I had an awesome day yesterday. Six days off didn't mean a thing, and I couldn't wait to beat my personal best today. I took my first step and instantly knew I was in trouble. With every step I took, it felt like my inner thigh muscles were repeatedly being shredded. My glutes and core muscles later joined in to compete against my inner thighs. Apparently six days off does make a difference...imagine that, right? I was honestly surprised at how quickly things could deteriorate though. Had I really lost that much of my progress in that short period of time? I guess so. Note to self - don't ever go that long without running again - it won't be pretty.
About half-way through the run, I was really struggling. My form had gone out the window, and it was all I could do to keep one foot going in front of the other. I admit to stopping a few times to walk for a couple seconds, but that's not entirely abnormal for me. Mile 2 was really rough for me (although this tends to be my toughest mile on a normal day too), and I never quite recovered from it. I ended up finishing my run with an embarrassing time of almost 2:20 more than yesterday (and that's quite a bit on just a 3.1 mile run!). But as defeated as I was feeling - I kept pushing myself to keep going. I might have walked a few steps here and there, but I wasn't about to give up. I have to give myself credit for at least hanging in there and finishing the darn thing, which was a challenge itself. I was feeling pretty down by the time I got home after my cool down, but my wonderful hubby came to the rescue again. He gave it to me straight - there was no sugar-coating. Yes it was a bad day, and yes, it was a poor choice to take 6 days off. But he was still proud of me for making the decision to get back out there and fight for what I wanted. I'd won this battle before and I could win it again. However, I think I'll stick with a brisk walk tomorrow while I recover... :o)
Monday, August 20, 2012
Off the Wagon...
So it's been almost a full week since my last run, and a migraine all day combined with my husband having his wisdom teeth removed today unfortunately means another day with no run. I know in my head it's probably just an excuse, but the last time I tried to run when my head hurt this bad, I only made it 3/4 of a mile before almost tossing my cookies. So I've rationalized yet another time that one more day won't hurt at this point.
It all started mid-week last week when I realized that I was way behind at work and that I had A LOT to do to get my house ready for a party we were hosting that weekend. I was staying later at work, then running to the stores, doing yard work and house work, and staying up later than normal to work more before doing it all over again the next day. I managed to get in a 10 mile bike ride with my Dad (my faithful bike riding partner), and an hour of volleyball practice with our team at work, but somehow it just didn't seem nearly as intense as a run.
I will say that although we hosted a major cookout this past weekend, complete with burgers, hot dogs, potato chips, cookies, and beer, I managed to control myself and not go over-board. I was sure to have plenty of fruit and water on hand, as well as options for whole wheat buns, black bean burgers, and healthier salad dressings. All in all, it wasn't a complete bust for my eating habits. I want to point out the fact that I said "eating habits" instead of diet. I'm not on a diet. I'm in this for the long-haul - not for a short-term diet that I'll yo-yo back and forth out of. It's a lifetsyle now - not a diet!
That being said, I still won't put my feet on the scale in the bathroom. Even though I've made wise, healthy food choices, I still haven't held up my end of the deal with exercise this week, and I don't want to be disappointed if I step on the scale and see I've gained a few pounds. Everyone is different in this respect. Some would be more motivated by seeing that they've gained a couple pounds, but I know myself by now, and am afraid I'd be so dejected that I'd continue down this same path. I'm much more motivated by the progress I see from my hard work than by the fear that I'm going in the opposite direction.
So I'm hoping that tomorrow will be a better day. That I'll feel better and that my husband will be recovering enough from his surgery that I don't feel bad leaving the house for an hour or so. And I'll get back out there on the road (or bike trail in my case) and hop right back on that wagon. I am fully aware that these first couple days back into my routine will not be pleasant - and I'll be frustrated because I'll be slower and it'll be harder. But I know I can do it, and a week off isn't going to stop me.
While I'm at it - I need to think of a new goal for myself (since I think this might also be part of my problem). Now that the 5k I'd been working toward is over, I have less of a goal to work for (other than overall health and weight loss). A 10k or half-marathon seems like a stretch for me, and I'm afraid these goals are too big for me at this point and I'll just feel overwhelmed by them. Maybe I'll shoot for another 5k with a better time. Or just pick a date into the fall where I'll be running 4 or 5 miles instead of 3.
Falling off the wagon hasn't been pleasant, and I certainly don't feel as good, but one week isn't going to screw up my lifetime. As the saying goes, one bad day or one bad meal shouldn't ruin your entire week/day/month. It's one small setback in the grand plan of your life - so keep on going! And I will!
It all started mid-week last week when I realized that I was way behind at work and that I had A LOT to do to get my house ready for a party we were hosting that weekend. I was staying later at work, then running to the stores, doing yard work and house work, and staying up later than normal to work more before doing it all over again the next day. I managed to get in a 10 mile bike ride with my Dad (my faithful bike riding partner), and an hour of volleyball practice with our team at work, but somehow it just didn't seem nearly as intense as a run.
I will say that although we hosted a major cookout this past weekend, complete with burgers, hot dogs, potato chips, cookies, and beer, I managed to control myself and not go over-board. I was sure to have plenty of fruit and water on hand, as well as options for whole wheat buns, black bean burgers, and healthier salad dressings. All in all, it wasn't a complete bust for my eating habits. I want to point out the fact that I said "eating habits" instead of diet. I'm not on a diet. I'm in this for the long-haul - not for a short-term diet that I'll yo-yo back and forth out of. It's a lifetsyle now - not a diet!
That being said, I still won't put my feet on the scale in the bathroom. Even though I've made wise, healthy food choices, I still haven't held up my end of the deal with exercise this week, and I don't want to be disappointed if I step on the scale and see I've gained a few pounds. Everyone is different in this respect. Some would be more motivated by seeing that they've gained a couple pounds, but I know myself by now, and am afraid I'd be so dejected that I'd continue down this same path. I'm much more motivated by the progress I see from my hard work than by the fear that I'm going in the opposite direction.
So I'm hoping that tomorrow will be a better day. That I'll feel better and that my husband will be recovering enough from his surgery that I don't feel bad leaving the house for an hour or so. And I'll get back out there on the road (or bike trail in my case) and hop right back on that wagon. I am fully aware that these first couple days back into my routine will not be pleasant - and I'll be frustrated because I'll be slower and it'll be harder. But I know I can do it, and a week off isn't going to stop me.
While I'm at it - I need to think of a new goal for myself (since I think this might also be part of my problem). Now that the 5k I'd been working toward is over, I have less of a goal to work for (other than overall health and weight loss). A 10k or half-marathon seems like a stretch for me, and I'm afraid these goals are too big for me at this point and I'll just feel overwhelmed by them. Maybe I'll shoot for another 5k with a better time. Or just pick a date into the fall where I'll be running 4 or 5 miles instead of 3.
Falling off the wagon hasn't been pleasant, and I certainly don't feel as good, but one week isn't going to screw up my lifetime. As the saying goes, one bad day or one bad meal shouldn't ruin your entire week/day/month. It's one small setback in the grand plan of your life - so keep on going! And I will!
Friday, August 17, 2012
Whole Wheat, Whole Grain, Multi-Grain - So Many Choices...
One of the changes my husband and I are trying to incorporate in our lifestyle is to switch to healthier versions of ingredients, such as brown rice over white rice, whole grain pasta instead of regular pasta, etc. But the more time I spend in the grocery store looking at my options, the more confused I get. As I stand there looking at the multitude of bread crumbs, I can't help but wonder what the difference is between whole wheat bread crumbs, whole grain bread crumbs, and seven-grain bread crumbs. I walked over to the cracker aisle and found the same story there. I just wanted to make the best choice for this recipe to make it as healthy as possible: Weight Watchers Orange Crumb Baked Chicken. (This recipe was a huge hit by the way - even with my husband, who is always wary of my attempts at new, healthy recipes. I highly recommend it, and he even asked me to make it again! The prep is a bit time consuming, but compared to some other recipes I've tried, it's actually pretty simple for the great result!)
So I went home last night and started looking around on the internet to see if I could find any (reliable) information on the subject. What I found is disappointing - a lot of that wording on packages is simply a marketing ploy to target people looking to make a healthier choice when the product really isn't any more beneficial. For example, I already knew that whole grains were better than processed grains (please keep in mind - I am not a nutritionist or doctor - I am simply telling you what I've learned in my own experience) because the act of processing the grains into white bread or white pasta for example, removes all the nutritional value of the grains. In whole grain options, the grains are left in tact and therefore retain their nutritional benefits. But when you see "multi-grain" or "seven-grain" on your box of cereal or your loaf of bread, this doesn't even mean that the grains are whole grains. It just means that the product contains multiple types of grains - ALL of which might be processed!!! These are the products out there trying to deceive people into thinking they're making a healthier choice.
On the other hand, it seems there isn't so much of a difference between whole wheat vs. whole grain options. Whole grain just means that the grain in the product can be something other than wheat - which is fine, as long as it is still whole and unprocessed. So what it all boils down to is the age old story of learning to read your labels and ingredient lists properly. If whole wheat or whole grain is one of the first couple ingredients listed, it's probably a good option. Another interesting piece of information I found was that there's a Whole Grains Council which evaluates foods and puts its stamp of approval on products that meet its whole grain minimum requirements. Of course, there's controversy over the requirements they use (just like with "organic" product labeling), but I figure it's a good place to start when I'm comparing products in the store. If the products meet the Council's requirements, you'll see one of these stamps on the box:
I started looking around my kitchen and was pleasantly surprised to find that some of the products I'd picked in the store actually had these stamps! Others....not so much. But at least I have a better idea of how to shop now - and at least my husband loved the healthy dinner I made!
Saturday, August 11, 2012
5k - Cross it Off the Bucket List!
I've been running for quite some time now, and had been sticking to a 2-mile route for several months. I had figured out that I could actually complete 2 miles and it was now very satisfying to see my times start to improve. In fact, this progress I was seeing was the motivation I needed to keep me going back out there time after time to try again. My competitive nature kept me pushing myself so I could come home and tell my husband I'd achieved another personal best. But one day, a thought popped into my head: if I could see this much improvement in my time and pace over several months, did this mean that I could also see the same type of progress with distance? That would of course give me another way to motivate myself.
So I set out over the last couple months to slowly increase my distance from 2 miles to 3 miles (I went with 0.25 miles more each week). And once I reached 3 miles, I thought, "well what's 1/10 of a mile more?" - then I'd know in my mind that I could complete a 5k if I ever wanted to. But the more I thought about a real 5k race, the more I wanted to actually try one. As I have mentioned, I've never really been a runner (and still don't actually consider myself a member of that elite group), so the idea of a 5k race - with other people watching me - was quite intimidating. Up until this point, I had never run with ANYONE, not even my husband or best friends. I always just ran by myself, because I didn't want to be embarrassed in front of other people with how slow I was and how difficult it was for me to run a measly 2-3 miles.
So I told myself that I'd just look to see if there were even any races scheduled nearby. I didn't want to make this a big event or drive more than 15-20 minutes for something I wasn't even sure I could do. I guess in the back of my mind, I thought this would be my way out - that there wouldn't be any 5k races that fit my qualifications. Low and behold, as I'm browsing the newspaper one morning before work, I see an advertisement for a 5k race. It's a "first annual" event, so I would anticipate it to be pretty low-key, and it was taking place on the bike trail that runs through my back yard. Looks like I didn't have an excuse after all....
So I told my husband about it, and he convinced me to sign up. If I pre-registered, I had already paid and had to go, right? So I took a deep breath the week before the race and registered online. I got up this morning and was as nervous as freshman on the first day of high school. I kept asking myself why I thought this was a good idea. I was just going to embarrass myself in front of all these people, come in dead last, and not even be able to finish the race without walking. My husband came along for moral support and to cheer me on, but when we arrived, I was even more intimidated by the large number of fancy, accomplished-looking runners I saw. What had I been thinking? But my husband gave me a reassuring kiss, told me I do this all the time, and sent me off to the starting line.
The gun went off, and I started out at my usual pace, even as people began to fly by me. People's paces quickly spread us out, and I just kept telling myself to not worry about the others - to just keep the pace I knew I was comfortable at. (Although I admit to taking a quick peek behind me about 3/4 of a mile in, just to be sure I wasn't in last place!)
This may go without saying, but I absolutely love jewelry - not even the expensive shiny kind, but just everyday stuff. And my husband promised me that he'd buy me this bracelet I saw online with a "5k" charm if I completed this race. Whether I like to admit it or not, this contributed to my motivation today. In my mind, I didn't deserve that bracelet if I walked. Sure, I could lie and tell him I ran the whole way, and still get my bracelet, but it wouldn't mean the same thing to me. So I was bound and determined to finish this race without walking - I needed to prove to myself that I could do it. And before I knew it, I was through mile 2 (usually my toughest mile), and then suddenly I could see the finish line. I was going to make it! Sure, plenty of people had come in ahead of me and I was near the end of the pack, but when I crossed that finish line, none of that mattered anymore. I had actually finished a REAL 5k race - WITHOUT WALKING a single step. :o) I couldn't believe it! I had never thought a 5k was something I would ever be able to accomplish in my life. But now I can honestly say I am a 5k runner. I didn't get a personal best, but my time of 31:43 was pretty average for me, and I was still proud. I realize this doesn't even seem like an accomplishment to many people - they'd say it's just a 5k, and that time isn't even any good. But that's not the point. The point was that I had accomplished something I had really worked hard for and that I took a chance on something that scared the daylights out of me. A bit of advice for anyone starting out on any type of running or exercise journey (and this took me a very long time to figure out): it's not about competing against other people - it's about competing against yourself and accomplishing things that the little voice in your head thinks you can't.
So I set out over the last couple months to slowly increase my distance from 2 miles to 3 miles (I went with 0.25 miles more each week). And once I reached 3 miles, I thought, "well what's 1/10 of a mile more?" - then I'd know in my mind that I could complete a 5k if I ever wanted to. But the more I thought about a real 5k race, the more I wanted to actually try one. As I have mentioned, I've never really been a runner (and still don't actually consider myself a member of that elite group), so the idea of a 5k race - with other people watching me - was quite intimidating. Up until this point, I had never run with ANYONE, not even my husband or best friends. I always just ran by myself, because I didn't want to be embarrassed in front of other people with how slow I was and how difficult it was for me to run a measly 2-3 miles.
So I told myself that I'd just look to see if there were even any races scheduled nearby. I didn't want to make this a big event or drive more than 15-20 minutes for something I wasn't even sure I could do. I guess in the back of my mind, I thought this would be my way out - that there wouldn't be any 5k races that fit my qualifications. Low and behold, as I'm browsing the newspaper one morning before work, I see an advertisement for a 5k race. It's a "first annual" event, so I would anticipate it to be pretty low-key, and it was taking place on the bike trail that runs through my back yard. Looks like I didn't have an excuse after all....
So I told my husband about it, and he convinced me to sign up. If I pre-registered, I had already paid and had to go, right? So I took a deep breath the week before the race and registered online. I got up this morning and was as nervous as freshman on the first day of high school. I kept asking myself why I thought this was a good idea. I was just going to embarrass myself in front of all these people, come in dead last, and not even be able to finish the race without walking. My husband came along for moral support and to cheer me on, but when we arrived, I was even more intimidated by the large number of fancy, accomplished-looking runners I saw. What had I been thinking? But my husband gave me a reassuring kiss, told me I do this all the time, and sent me off to the starting line.
The gun went off, and I started out at my usual pace, even as people began to fly by me. People's paces quickly spread us out, and I just kept telling myself to not worry about the others - to just keep the pace I knew I was comfortable at. (Although I admit to taking a quick peek behind me about 3/4 of a mile in, just to be sure I wasn't in last place!)
This may go without saying, but I absolutely love jewelry - not even the expensive shiny kind, but just everyday stuff. And my husband promised me that he'd buy me this bracelet I saw online with a "5k" charm if I completed this race. Whether I like to admit it or not, this contributed to my motivation today. In my mind, I didn't deserve that bracelet if I walked. Sure, I could lie and tell him I ran the whole way, and still get my bracelet, but it wouldn't mean the same thing to me. So I was bound and determined to finish this race without walking - I needed to prove to myself that I could do it. And before I knew it, I was through mile 2 (usually my toughest mile), and then suddenly I could see the finish line. I was going to make it! Sure, plenty of people had come in ahead of me and I was near the end of the pack, but when I crossed that finish line, none of that mattered anymore. I had actually finished a REAL 5k race - WITHOUT WALKING a single step. :o) I couldn't believe it! I had never thought a 5k was something I would ever be able to accomplish in my life. But now I can honestly say I am a 5k runner. I didn't get a personal best, but my time of 31:43 was pretty average for me, and I was still proud. I realize this doesn't even seem like an accomplishment to many people - they'd say it's just a 5k, and that time isn't even any good. But that's not the point. The point was that I had accomplished something I had really worked hard for and that I took a chance on something that scared the daylights out of me. A bit of advice for anyone starting out on any type of running or exercise journey (and this took me a very long time to figure out): it's not about competing against other people - it's about competing against yourself and accomplishing things that the little voice in your head thinks you can't.
Thursday, August 9, 2012
Welcome
Hi there! I've never blogged before, but with all the changes in my life recently, I thought, "why not one more?" - so here we are. I'm not going to lie - this won't be one of those blogs where I post every day. I'm going to promise at least once a week and see how that turns out.
I guess I should probably provide a little background at this point. I have never had a serious weight problem, but a couple years ago I started to notice that while gaining 2 or 3 pounds a year didn't seem so bad, it sure starts to add up over a 5 or 6 year time period. And suddenly I was 20 pounds more than I used to be and was embarrassed to see anyone I hadn't seen in awhile. So I decided to do something about it. My job tends to take up a great deal of my time, so I needed a workout that was quick but effective. Running seemed like a logical choice - I wasn't any good at it, so it was an intense workout, and 20-30 minutes was plenty of time for me. At the same time, I knew that simply exercising wouldn't be enough. That's where the cooking comes in. Having only been married for a couple years at the time, I was still learning to cook in general, so I often resorted to boxed, frozen, and processed foods that were quick and easy. After a little research, I discovered this could very well have been part of my problem and vowed to start cooking with fresh ingredients instead (which is surprisingly easier than I thought, and my husband even enjoys almost every single meal I make now).
Although I am only 1 pound away from my goal weight at this point, I know that maintenance is just as difficult and that I can't give up now. I'm not the crazy, over-the-top fitness nut though. My goal is to incorporate these changes in a manner that allows them to be true lifestyle changes - something I can live with for the rest of my life. Which means I still eat cookies and ice cream and chocolate - just not 6 cookies at one time or a large DQ Blizzard each week.
I'll be here to share my running successes and failures along the way, as well as the recipes I've tried and loved. hope I can help inspire and help others along their journeys as well. I hope you enjoy it! And thanks for reading!!! :o)
I guess I should probably provide a little background at this point. I have never had a serious weight problem, but a couple years ago I started to notice that while gaining 2 or 3 pounds a year didn't seem so bad, it sure starts to add up over a 5 or 6 year time period. And suddenly I was 20 pounds more than I used to be and was embarrassed to see anyone I hadn't seen in awhile. So I decided to do something about it. My job tends to take up a great deal of my time, so I needed a workout that was quick but effective. Running seemed like a logical choice - I wasn't any good at it, so it was an intense workout, and 20-30 minutes was plenty of time for me. At the same time, I knew that simply exercising wouldn't be enough. That's where the cooking comes in. Having only been married for a couple years at the time, I was still learning to cook in general, so I often resorted to boxed, frozen, and processed foods that were quick and easy. After a little research, I discovered this could very well have been part of my problem and vowed to start cooking with fresh ingredients instead (which is surprisingly easier than I thought, and my husband even enjoys almost every single meal I make now).
Although I am only 1 pound away from my goal weight at this point, I know that maintenance is just as difficult and that I can't give up now. I'm not the crazy, over-the-top fitness nut though. My goal is to incorporate these changes in a manner that allows them to be true lifestyle changes - something I can live with for the rest of my life. Which means I still eat cookies and ice cream and chocolate - just not 6 cookies at one time or a large DQ Blizzard each week.
I'll be here to share my running successes and failures along the way, as well as the recipes I've tried and loved. hope I can help inspire and help others along their journeys as well. I hope you enjoy it! And thanks for reading!!! :o)
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