I do it, and I do it big. Here's to not forgetting about it.

Posts tagged ‘positivity’

Never Silent – Noise v. Music: Race Report 

I have a confession to make. 

While I can honestly say I was proud of my performance in last week’s 5k, I wasn’t “satisfied,” and thus my quest for my next 5k before marathon training began hours after last week’s finish. I shared this with 3M, and naturally, she responded with suggestions. Though I was unsure if I could really make any gains in a week, I thought, ‘what the hell. I like to race. Let’s see what happens!’ 

I didn’t run at all this past week, as I was unusually tired and feeling in limbo before my marathon training is to start. I just tried to eat cleanly and show up rested. Last night, I was setting out my clothes/equipment for today and realized I did not see my wireless headphones. “Meh,” I thought. My phone on my arm felt heavy last week anyhow. “I’ll run without music!” 

Mind you, I have never run a running race without music. The last time I raced without music was at the end of my 70.3 almost 2 years ago. “Whatever. It’s ‘just’ a 5k. The silence won’t be a big deal.”  At the horn, I realized something quickly. 

There. 

Is.

No. 

Silence.

I mean this both literally and figuratively. Of course, there were plenty of things to hear as I struggled in the heat and humidity. Parents encouraging their kids. The occasional cowbell. My feet. My clearing my throat. My feet. The ducks. My feet. 

My feet. They’re loud. Seriously. 

Soon after I began mile 2, I felt very tempted to slow down. “You can slow down. You’ll still probably beat your time from last week.” Then, “It’s hot. Why am I doing this.” This was followed by the inevitable, “I am whining about 3.1 miles. Am I really strong enough to complete 23.1 more?” 

Oh, dear. I wish that no music meant silence. Quite the opposite. The inside of my head is incredibly noisy. I often tell my classroom students that we are in a music room and not a noise room. Our music is intentional, our noise is scattered and rarely pleasant. The music that I play during races helps to distract me from the noise in my head. I became thankful for my loud, musical feet – the organized, steady beat of my progress toward the finish line. Keep making music. Keep moving forward. 

I crossed the finish line in 33:27 – 1:05 faster than the previous week. Music triumphed over noise once again. I know now that if I am to complete a marathon, I must become a better musician. 

Always multitasking.

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Day 55 of 42: The Real Challenge Continues

Welp. I finished the clean eating challenge.

The Good:

Down 9 pounds
Down 5 inches
Down 3% body fat
I find eating in this manner sustainable, even when I’m not working regular hours. Idle hands are a fatty’s workshop.

The Bad:

I still dislike my body.

The Ugly:

The fact that I still feel ugly.

I am upset with myself that my brain is the hardest part to change. I feel that the real challenge is learning to love myself, regardless of where I am physically. I suppose I should stop ignoring Blonde Oprah’s admonitions to think positively. I always read through the positivity crap she writes and think to myself, “Whatever. What am I ACTUALLY supposed to do?” What if that way of thinking is a means to lose more weight? What if viewing myself positively is correct because I’m fearfully and wonderfully made and not simply a means to an end?

My biggest takeaway is that it is much easier to eat well than it is to be well. I am strongly considering starting some foolishness where I affirm myself each morning when I start my new workout plan Monday. Self-loathing will always weigh more than fat.

Seventy Point DEEZ OVAREEZ!

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Deez. Right here.

I started my day by going for a quick run and spending a bit of time with Red Rocket, per Coachie’s instructions. As I was bringing RR back into my room, I saw a couple in the elevator. I greeted them cheerily.

“I’m resting my legs for tomorrow.”

Clearly, this is an appropriate response to “Good morning!” Dude. Ain’t nobody ask you about your legs. Unless your name is Coachie, I’m pretty sure I can do without your thoughts on what I’m doing with my legs. However, I just smiled and bid him good day.

This took ovaries.

You see, there were a lot of ways I could have responded. For one, I could have given him a myriad of options for alternatives with his legs, such as using them to walk off of a cliff. That’s restful, no? Blah. God don’t like ugly. Even when it’s witty or clever, apparently. It would have been more typical of me to hear what he said and start to go inside my own head.

Maybe this was a bad idea. What if he’s right? What if I’m doing too much? What if I need to go to sleep at 9:30 AM? What if because I was on my feet for 20 minutes I can’t finish the race? Why am I here? Where’s Chopin?

Poor joker. He said that because seeing me made him question whatever decision he had made for himself. I didn’t do anything except say good morning! I’s just a girl with mah bicycle and a grin, y’all. I doubt he was intentionally trying to make me go nuts in my head, but it could have happened.

It didn’t.

It takes ovaries to get here. It might take even more to believe that you should be here once you are here. It takes the most ovaries to be positive toward others, no matter what you are feeling.

Dude. I hope you have a good race tomorrow. That being said – you could use some ovaries.

Just Another Day.

47 days to go.

I went to bed last night with a plan to complete both my bike and my run before I had to go to work. While I woke up on time, I felt pretty blah. Not just physically, but mentally. One of the great things about triathlon is that if I don’t feel like running today, I can do tomorrow’s swim and I often will feel up to running the next day. At the moment, the only thing I wanted to do was curl up in bed until I absolutely had to awaken. I made myself get up and do my run.

Whatever.

Yes, I’m glad I did it, but I’m not giving myself any accolades. I’m training for a race. I’m supposed to run. I’m trying to maintain/lose weight. I’m supposed to get out of bed to work out even when I don’t feel like it. As I was running, all I could think about was how I’m gonna have to keep doing this for the rest of my life and how age will bring about even less desirable results. I thought of something I’d seen recently –

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You know what I felt when I read that? Envy. I am envious of the person who can both acknowledge her progress and be pleased with where she is at the moment, despite where others may be. Just speaking of my physical progress, I am self-aware enough to recognize the place from which I’ve come. I started at 200 pounds last January, not even able to run a mile. I was bitching to myself this morning doing 400s, thinking to myself that my sprint is someone’s recovery day. I am not listing my pace only because I would hate for anyone not as fast as I am (logically, this person must exist) to read this and feel discouraged. I’ve registered for a Half-Ironman and it’s not implausible that I will complete it. That’s pretty significant progress.

Whatever.

I couldn’t help but think of the tragic death of Robin Williams yesterday. He has been making me laugh since I was a Girl J. Just last week, I was watching his special Weapons of Self-Destruction with a new appreciation for his brilliance and his willingness to put himself out there so honestly. I think of his great success, the love he seemed to have in his life from his close family, and it breaks my heart to think of how lonely and desperate he must have felt to take his own life despite his circumstance.

As the news broke last night, a recurring theme emerged quickly. “If you’re feeling depressed, talk to someone. Reach out. Know you are loved.” Sigh. When depression sets in, knowledge is NOT power. In a strange twist, the awareness of all the good in one’s life can play into feeling guilty for being depressed. Depression multiplies.

I consider:

– I come from – and have – two incredibly loving, still married parents,
– I have a full time job in the field for which I received formal training,
– I have no major health concerns,
– There are many people in my life whom I would call friend – and actually mean it, and
– There’s no reason for me to expect that any of the above will change any time soon.

Moreover, I’m Christian, which means I don’t even (read: shouldn’t even) put the most stock in the things I listed. My trust is not in Wells Fargo, y’all. And for the bonus round, I’m what many would consider physically attractive, and let’s be real, the world is kinder to prettier faces. Yet I was thinking to myself this morning that it would make sense to spend the day in bed. There’s someone who can do everything that I do better. I am never going to be everything that I can be.

THIS. This is why it’s so difficult to share these feelings with others. You see the blessings around you and you can hear the responses of your loved ones before they even open their mouths. “Don’t you realize all that you have? How many people would love to be where you are?” So you just keep your mouth shut and smile and laugh. Anything to get through the rest of the day. Just – another day.

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