If I can be honest, I am fully aware of my need to only post positively on social media. I have never mentioned the death of a loved one, accidents, or illnesses. Call me old-fashioned, but I believe in delivering such news person to person. That being said, I am always thankful when others post about the passing of people close to them so I can attend arrangements and pay my respects. So this is a weird double standard I’ve created for myself.
Anyway, I’ve been trying to be positive and keep things in perspective, but it is hard. I’ve spent five weeks sitting on my butt, watching documentaries, mind-numbing movies, rewatching my favorite TV series, and reading books. I’ve cleaned the photos from my phone and spent an embarrassing amount of time on my phone. I’ve attempted upper body exercises while watching reruns.
Here are my biggest takeaways:
I need to get dressed each day, which was challenging initially, but I feel better when I do so.
I need to make myself go outside, which is also challenging, but my mental health benefits from sitting outside rather than on the couch in the living room. I ordered an outdoor swing, which Mike put together last weekend, and make myself get out there, even when I think I’m content on the couch watching Friends reruns (again).
People who check in on me are excellent. I fall into a funk, but people reach out, which makes my day.
When I fall into my funks, I genuinely fear that I have forgotten how to be social. I also fear that people have completely forgotten about me. When much of your social interactions involve physical activity, getting injured just as we returned to normal after Covid fosters more loneliness. While I fear that I will never return to the level of activity from which I was once capable, my mind also creates a fear that I will never return to the social interactions that were crucial to achieving milestones pre-injury. (Does that make any sense? TLDR: I’m afraid that my running and NP friends have forgotten me or will not at all care when I can resume activities.)
As the weeks go by, I need to let go of things that used to seem important. Mike and Liam have been amazing. But since everything falls on them, not everything gets done. And that is okay, even if the entertainment stand is covered in dust.
Progress is progress. In the past five weeks, I’ve gone through two casts and a boot. Progress is happening, and it is mine to observe. Seemingly simple tasks, such as taking a shower or going upstairs, are now victories. I need to recognize and celebrate them.
Diet is so important to health. I’d been eating as healthily as I can but miscalculated how many calories sedentary me required by 200 a day, resulting in even more weight gain. I’m up twenty-five pounds from my marathon weight and look forward to being active again and getting rid of the extra weight, which will further aid recovery.
In the past five weeks, I’ve seen a lot of progress, even if it comes in the form of moving my foot side to side. There will be a lot more progress in the next few weeks and months!
This weekend, I ran the Newport Half Marathon. A few days before the race, my friend Kerri sent me a text saying that she was thinking about running the half. I sent her this clip from How I Met Your Mother in which Barney decides to run the NYC Marathon. My favorite line is when he says, “You don’t train for a marathon, you just do it.” She was convinced and decided to register hours before the deadline.
I was not well prepared and dropped the ball on a few last-minute needs, such as drinking a lot of water the night before and getting to bed early. Mike ordered tickets to see Christina Aguilera the night before the race. Because he had to work the following morning, we decided to only stay for a few songs. Even though we left early, we still didn’t get home until almost eleven. I had to be out of the house by 5:15 the following morning. The show was amazing! I’m sorry that we couldn’t stay for the entire set.
The next morning, I woke up an was out the door on time. Liam woke up with me to wish me good luck. He asked if I was excited to run thirteen miles. When I said I was more excited for when it was it was over. “Why do you pay money to do something that sometimes sucks?”
“To prove myself that I can.”
That’s why this race represented: proving I can set and achieve a goal.
I rode the shuttles to the starting line and found my friends a few minutes later. We chatted for a bit and lined up for the race. The first few miles went by pretty easily. The scenery was beautiful as we ran around the island. About mile five, my left leg started to hurt. When Mike and I lived in the apartment, I broke my foot. It usually aches a little bit on the first cool, damp day of the season. Race day was the day it decided to ache. I tried to avoid it by changing how I landed; that caused other parts of my leg and foot to ache. Around mile six, I accidentally paused my apple watch, making it difficult for me to track distance and pace for the rest of the race. By mile ten, I told my friend to go ahead. I texted Mike and tried to keep my mind off the pain. As I reached Bellevue Ave’s Forty Steps, I was in tears. I had to catch myself to avoid going from simply hyperventilating to full-on panic attack. I couldn’t breathe. Every step ached. Mike asked me if there was a first aid station or someplace to stop. I knew the injury was simply an old one showing its face and there was nothing they could do to help me. Most importantly, I didn’t work this hard to only make it to mile ten. I relied on all of my “this run sucks” tricks. I listened to my favorite music. I reduced my interval timer. I pulled up Pokemon Go on my phone to divert my attention. I felt weak and alone. I questioned why I thought I could do this.
I sobbed for almost a half mile, then had an epiphany: I was going to finish this race. I set a goal to complete two half-marathons in 2018 and didn’t work this hard to quit at mile ten.
I finished at 2:55:35, ten minutes slower than my first half but still under my original three-hour goal.
I celebrated with my friends. We posted pictures on Facebook, sharing Kerri’s last-minute decision to run the race.
Before the race, I ordered two sneaker tags for Kristin and me to celebrate our achievement. I gave the two of them to my friends and placed an order for one for myself. The Etsy shop owner sent me another one at no charge. I love that races bring out the best in people.
Running has taught me that I can do anything I set my mind to.
Running has provided an amazing set of friends. I am doubly blessed to have an amazing group of yoga buddies and running buddies.
Running provides an excellent example for Liam. He sees me struggle and work hard. He runs with me and together we celebrate his victories. He’s set a goal of running a ten-minute mile.
I’m not sure what the future holds when it comes to long-term running goals. I sometimes considered putting my name in the lottery for the New York City Marathon. However, when I think about how exhausted I was at the end of this half, the thought of that being the halfway point and doing another thirteen miles seems impossible. That being said, I may let fate decide if I am meant to run a full marathon.
During my first round of BRG, my goal was to run the Gaspee Days 5k in under forty minutes. I managed to finish in 39:11, keeping a 12:39 pace. Less than a year later, I completed my first half marathon in 244:59, which averaged to a 12:36 pace. I was beyond proud of this. That same pace I struggled to maintain for 3.1 miles was kept for another ten miles.
This summer’s plan was to train for a second half. It did not go as planned. It was a hotter than usual summer. I hurt my knee, putting a damper on the best intentions. When I did go out for my long runs, my pace was slower than before I began running. During last week’s 11.3 mile run, my pace was 14:59. Fear of being unable to complete the long runs prevented me from pushing myself. I struggled to determine whether this slip was physical, mental, or both.
With one week to go until the half, I know I will finish. I know I will not PR, but I know I will be able to complete the race. Today was the Ocean Road 10k, which was perfectly timed for my tapering before the Newport Half. Set on Ocean Road in Narragansett, the race provides beautiful views!
Because even my shorter runs have been slow, I went into today with low expectations. It was a beautiful morning surrounding my some of my favorite people in the world. We have different strategies for tackling races; mine involves intervals.
My realistic goal was to complete the 10k in under an hour and a half- my times have been so slow that I would have been happy to keep a thirteen-minute-mile pace. Not only did I finish the race in an hour and eighteen minutes, I almost managed negative splits! (Mile four had some hills that slowed me down.)
The views were amazing. The crowd was positive and inspiring. I had some of my favorite people cheering for each other. It is hard to believe that I have only been a part of this running community for less than two years; I am beyond grateful to the people who support me, encourage me, and inspire me. They have convinced me that I can conquer goals that I never would have considered for myself. I love surrounding myself with people who celebrate the successes of others. I cannot wait to see how what the years ahead of us hold!
This one hits close to home. This past month has provided countless opportunities for reflection and perspective. Being asked to reflect upon what stands in your way is especially fitting this week.
Self-doubt and Worry I have it. I continuously question my abilities. Am I a good parent? Am I a good teacher? Am I a good wife? Am I good enough friend? Do I have any business writing about running? Am I spending enough time playing with Liam? Am I hovering? Do I check in my friends often enough? While doing all of these things, how do I keep my own head above water? Running and weight-lifting have taught me that I am stronger than I think, but I am always doubting myself.
Not Asking for Help Mike is a saint when it comes to this. Somehow, it has come into my mind that being a good wife means taking care of as much as I possibly can. I get home before he does and get laundry, dishes, lunches, cleaning, and dinner taken care of before he gets home. By the time he gets home, I’m exhausted. Mike tells me to leave stuff for him to do, yet every day, I feel the need to take care of it myself. I take care of holidays, birthdays, and events without asking for help, then get overtired and grumpy. It’s a vicious cycle, one in which Mike does a fantastic job of tolerating from me. I fight the same overwhelming meltdown several times a year, and Mike gets me through each time.
Social Anxiety Maybe I hide this. Maybe I don’t. I fear silence in small talk and talk too much then I worry that I dominated said conversation. I try to make a point of asking more questions while talking. Then I get together with a group and, for fear of dominating the conversation, don’t say much. On those rides home, I worry that people thought I was disinterested and won’t invite me in the future. I avoid certain social situations in which I know there will be a lot of small talk for fear I will talk too much or too little. I replay conversations in my mind, searching for spots where I may have messed up.
Usually, I ask Liam the same questions in the weekly prompt. It makes for interesting conversation while walking Banjo. This week’s topic is not one I want to ask Liam to reflect upon. We sometimes say he is his own worst enemy. He gets worked up about problems and spends more time worrying about them than it would take to fix them. He will spend a half an hour arguing that he doesn’t want to do math homework or clean his room, only to admit defeat and get the task done in less than ten minutes. This is part of being a kid. Overall, Liam is a thoughtful, intuitive kid. He’s is going to get himself right where he needs to be.
This is a common encouraging phrase heard in the workout circuit. Yes, it is true when it comes to working out. I can now do things I never thought I’d be able to do like run fast(ish) miles and complete half-marathons. But it also applies the regular life.
This week marked the eighth anniversary of my mom’s passing. I never really know what to do on that day. The first year, we took the day off and went to the area where her ashes are spread. We went to get ice cream at her favorite ice cream parlor. Now, I am not allowed to take personal days during the last two weeks of school and her favorite ice cream parlor is closed. I wanted to take Liam, Mike, and Banjo up the street to our local place, enjoy the company of my favorite boys, and have a sweet treat. The universe had other plans.
My friend’s dad passed away this week. The wake was scheduled on the anniversary of my mom’s passing. I selfishly wanted to get there at the beginning, pay my respects, and take care of my own mourning. Liam had other plans. He did not want to go with me, having attended my cousin’s services last week. I was not going to push it. He was fantastic last week and two wakes in two weeks is a lot for anyone, nevermind an eight-year-old.
I tried not to cry while I waited in the receiving line. This is not about you, I told myself, be strong for your friend.
The line provided time to think about what to say. I am terrible during difficult times; everything that comes out of my mouth is cliche. I hugged her. “I am so sorry this is happening,” I began. I asked how her mom and her kids were doing. I asked how she was doing. She admitted she was being strong for everyone. “Take care of yourself. I didn’t cry until five days after my mom died. It’s going to hit you at the weirdest, silliest times, and that is okay. I’m going to check in on you and help you any way I can.”
And that was it, a whole conversation while embraced in a hug. I managed to hold my own tears. I managed to not think about the conversations I wish I could have, the things I wish my mother could have taught me. I thought of what I wished someone had said to me when my pain was fresh and I was adjusting to my new normal.
Every year, I look for signs from my mom. Sometimes, she shows up in a dream. My son starts singing one of her favorites songs, that he has no business knowing, such as the words to Lionel Richie’s classic “All Night Long.” I see a rainbow. My mom always took care of others. This year, she took the focus off of my own self-pity and provided the opportunity to take care of someone else. Maybe I am making the events fit into the idea I need, but I’ll take it.
It’s hard to believe that we have only had Banjo in our lives for four months. He settled in and life has never been the same. He is the happiest dog I’ve ever met, complete with enough personality for many dogs! I know that he struggled for a while before being rescued from a road in Lousiana. He was twenty pounds lighter, a third of his current body weight. We often wonder what his life was like or even what his name used to be. I’ve learned a lot from this little pup.
Focus on the positive. We often wonder what happened to this happy-go-lucky pup, what made someone dump a dog they had obviously put a lot of work into. We had hoped that he just ran off or got lost, but an interaction with an acquaintance with a specific look made it clear that Banjo had some interactions with humans that were less than positive. In spite of that, Banjo has more love to offer than any dog I’ve ever met.
Demand love. During our walks with Outtie, he would try to catch attention at the bus stop of high school students we pass each morning. None of them seemed interested in giving Outtie pats. Banjo demands it, walking to each teenager and stopping until they acknowledge him. He doesn’t jump or step into personal space; he just simply stands next to each person for a moment, giving them an opportunity to give him love. After several months, each student now smiles, says hi to him, and gives him a few pats while he wags his tail and smiles back. Life is too short not to find places to give and take love.
Show people you love them. Banjo is a love bug. He nuzzles, stays next to you, and smiles all the time. It is evident he is overjoyed to be surrounded by people who love him and is always more than willing to show his affection and appreciation.
Be active. We have learned that it is pretty much impossible to tire this dog. He will chase the ball every time you throw it, even if it means making himself sore the next day. We learned that we have to be the ones to stop playing because he will play as much as we let him. He loves running with me and going to walks. Banjo is a dog who needs daily activity.
Don’t let your past dictate your future. It is clear that Banjo went through some difficult times. You’de never know it. He is the gentlest, silliest, kindest dog you’ll ever meet. He doesn’t let bad past experiences ruin his future hopes of happiness. Since we just took Liam to see The Lion King on Broadway last month, I’m reminded of Timon’s advice, “You’ve got to put your past behind you.”
You’re never too busy to give love. Banjo will be in the middle playing or relaxing. If he sees someone walk into the room or yard, he stops what he’s doing, walks over, and offers love. It’s a nice reminder that we, too, are never to busy to be nice.
I don’t even know where to begin when talking about this weekend!
Liam made his first communion Saturday morning. He did such a great job! I am beyond blessed that he is a part of such a fantastic school community. I love his school and the fellow families who attend. After the church service, we went back to our house for a cookout. It was perfect: low-key and casual. Liam was thankful for his day!
I went to bed early Saturday night because the half began at 7:30. I planned to be out of the house by 6. Liam woke up with me at 5:15. We tried to be as quiet as possible. Because he wasn’t sure if he would wake up with me, he left me a note for the morning with the bagels Mike picked up from Panera.
I was trying my best to be organized, but nerves were starting to kick in. In being hopelessly proactive, I applied Tiger Balm to my calves as I got dressed, only to panic when realizing I had not yet put in my contact lenses. Somehow, I managed to put in my toric lenses into my puffy, allergy-hating eyes one handed! My goal of getting out the door by 6 was only off by six minutes.
One the ride down to the race, I decided to listen to Hamilton, my go-to “Let’s do this!” music. The Spotify account was set to the Kitchen Echo. Luckily, people slept through the music blasting through the kitchen speakers for four seconds while I wondered why it wasn’t playing in my car.
The atmosphere before the race was calm and cheerful. We chatted and laughed until it was time to gather by the starting line. The gentleman who coordinates the races explained a few things about the race and the course, beginning with, “I don’t give a sh*t who comes in first as long as everyone finishes.” His cell phone number was on every sign; if you couldn’t finish, he informed us to call for help. He would come get us and provide free admission to any future race.
We started off together, separating by the time we made the first turn. My friend Kerri and I stayed together. We were hauling! My goal was to finish the race in three hours, requiring a 13:42 pace. Kerri assured me I could do that. My first mile was 11:36! I became scared of burning out. We slowed down, clocking our second mile at 12:46.
Our third mile was back in the 11’s.
“Should we slow down?”
“We’re good. Our goal is 2:45. You can do this. You are stronger than you think you are.”
So, three miles in, my goal changed!
The course was beautiful. We ran to Charlestown Beach and back through country roads. Kerri and I stayed together for the first ten miles, then she went ahead. At the next mile, I encountered a girl I “knew” from a Facebook running group. On the way out in the race, I stopped and hugged her, then let my social anxiety kick in, worrying that she thought the worst of the crazy, sweaty random person who hugged her. The next time I checked my phone, I had a friend request from her. I saw her again just after Mile 10. She took pictures and shared them with me, including one of my favorites of Kerri and I high-fiving when we reached double digits!
Just after Mile 12, I hated everything! I was done running, my shoulder was sore, I was gross and sweaty and wanted to be done. As I turned the corner, I saw two of my Rhode Runner buddies! I have never been happier to see anyone! Ignoring how sweaty I was, I left into each of their arms and expressed my love for them both! I began to cry as I ran up that final hill, overwhelmed by the support and the fact that I was actually about to complete this huge accomplishment. Hold it together, I told myself, you can’t run if you’re sobbing.
After that encounter, I was recharged and ready to finish this race, pushing myself through the last bit. When I turned the corner towards the finish line, my friends cheered me. I was at 2:44, I still had a chance to reach my goal! And I did, finishing in 2:44:59!
I was deliriously happy! My friends surrounded me and cheered for me. Then I realized the problem with finishing fifteen minutes faster than I planned: Mike and Liam were not yet there. I had told them to get there for 10:30; I finished at 10:15. They arrived a few minutes after I finished.
My friends are amazing! In this entire process of becoming a runner, they are my favorite takeaway! They make terrible runs tolerable and push me. They are supportive and silly. We gathered and ran in with the rest of our group. We stayed for over an hour after the end of the race, eating and celebrating.
Many times, I consider running a solo sport. Because of my schedule, the majority of my training was done by myself. However, races are what bring everyone together. We made friends with others in the parking lot before the race and at the finish line. People we have never before met cheered for and supported us.
I’m still riding the high that comes from reaching a goal. My next half is in October, allowing a few weeks to regroup and decide the next goal. I’d like to work on speed; I think I doubt myself and fear burning out at the end when I need energy the most. It’d be great to take a minute off of my 5K time.
For now, I need to thank my husband and son for supporting me. For screwing up weekends by filling them with long training sessions. I need to thank my running friends, now simply known as my friends, who pushed me out of my comfort, convincing me to accomplish what had previously seemed impossible! I don’t think you will ever understand how much I appreciate your support and friendship!
This was the first year we struggled to decide what to get Liam for Christmas. Even he couldn’t think of anything he to tell Santa he wanted this year. Because we all had all of the “stuff” we needed, we decided to take Liam to New York City for a weekend. When Mike and I were down there last summer to see Hamilton, we purchased a small “I love NY” teddy bear to wrap up and give Liam.
When we gave him his gift on Christmas, the four months before the trip seemed like years. As life flies by, it arrived in a flash! We took the train, which was so much easier than trying to drive and equal in cost when factoring in the cost of parking a car for three days in the city. It was a comfortable, three-hour ride.
Liam was in awe as soon as we exited Penn Station and stepped foot in the city. He loved the buildings. Our first stop was McGee’s, the bar that inspired McClaren’s in How I Met Your Mother. It was the only place Mike specifically mentioned wanting to visit, so we made sure to get there as soon we arrived, which worked out perfectly because we were starving and they hadn’t become too busy.
As we walked to the restaurant, Liam was able to see Times Square for the first time. On Friday afternoon, it wasn’t too busy. After lunch, we walked by Rockefeller Center on our way towards the subway to check in at our hotel. After a small, panic-inducing mix-up at the first hotel, which was not the one we where we made a reservation, we arrived at the correct hotel and settled in for a little bit. There was nothing scarier than hearing they did not have a room for us. Because there are three Holiday Inns in a small area, they said it happens pretty frequently.
After our break, we headed towards Battery Park. I could not wait for Liam to ride the Seaglass Carousel. We walked around, making our way to the 9/11 Memorial.
9/11 is difficult to explain to a child. We told him about a little bit about it at the airport last year. He gets the gist of it but still has many questions. He was incredibly respectful as we walked through the memorial. We stopped for pizza, providing Liam his first New York pizza experience. Like the Seaglass Carousel, it lived up to the hype!
We continued walking along the water, stopping to look at boats and the Brooklyn Bridge. Finally, we admitted defeat and headed back to the hotel to crash.
The following morning, we woke up early so we could eat breakfast and head to our reservation to visit the Statue of Liberty and climb to the crown. Our timing was perfect! We got there before it was too busy, being only the third group to reach the crown that day. As I wrote yesterday, Liam was scared but managed to do it anyway. He was so glad he did! The views were amazing! We visited Ellis Island, but, again, a lot of the significance went over Liam’s head.
After leaving Liberty Island, we raced to Times Square to make sure we were there in time to see The Lion King. Mike’s folks bought us the tickets for Christmas. It was such a great surprise! The subway system is much more efficient in New York than it is in Boston; we never waited more than a few minutes for a train, and they seemed to travel much faster. In Boston, we sometimes wait fifteen minutes for trains. The MTA is a nice improvement, which brought us to Times Square with a lot of time to explore!
Times Square on a Saturday was a beast! None of us enjoy crowds and were not overly excited to spend any more time there than we had to. Liam, who is eight, could not wait to eat at the huge McDonalds! While we rarely eat fast food, I was happy he was up for a quick, cheap meal. After lunch, we explored the M&M Store, which instantly made Mike and I queasy with claustrophobia. Liam was happy but eventually got tired of being pushed around.
We made our way to The Lion King, thankful for a chance to sit for a few hours. The show was amazing! It was as great as we hoped. I am eternally grateful for such a great gift!
Liam was such a good sport through our trekking through the city that we decided to make a stop just for him at the Nintendo Store. He was in heaven! Even though we told him we weren’t buying anything, we couldn’t resist buying him a T-shirt.
Done with the crowds, we head back towards our hotel in the financial district. We found a great old pub where we had dinner. By this point, we had been going for twelve hours, walking over ten miles. Liam was tired, but holding up. (Actually, we all felt that way.) Liam asked if we could walk back to the Seaglass Carousel and ride it at night. How often do we get here? When would we be here again? Knowing it was a gamble with an exhausted child, we took the risk.
It was one of my favorite moments of the trip! At night, the Seaglass Carousel was even more beautiful! We reached the sweet part of the day where the crowds had gone home. We didn’t have to wait to ride the carousel again. We walked along the water, admiring the Statue of Liberty and the city skyline illuminated. It was a beautiful way to end the evening, bringing our total daily distance walked to twelve miles.
By Sunday, we were exhausted. We went downstairs to eat breakfast, then went back to our room until checkout, watching The Discovery Channel and lounging. When it was time to leave, we headed one last time down to Battery Park and wandered around. We discovered a cookie spot that offers warm cookie delivery until 3am! I am a suburban girl at heart, but knowing I could have warm cookies brought to me at all hours of the night might make me rethink my position about cities. We tried our best to explain Wall Street and the Stock Exchange to Liam. While he didn’t fully comprehend the significance, he was happy to see the bull. We stopped to visit Hamilton’s grave.
A childhood friend lives in New York. I was delighted we had the chance to catch up Sunday afternoon. She suggested meeting at Chelsea Market and walking the High Line. These were two events we never would have known about on our own. Chelsea Market was interesting but crowded. Liam enjoyed some gelato while we waited. The High Line was beautiful! I am so glad that we explored it, giving us a chance to enjoy the city and catch up with Liz.
The weekend was better than I hoped! Liam was an absolute trooper! He walked and stayed with us and made all sorts of safe decisions, making it easier for Mike and me to relax a bit. We made a point of giving him time to be a kid, letting him chase pigeons in a park or burn some energy on a playground. While Liam is not exactly a traveler; he followed along with us great!
This weekend may begin a tradition of weekend trips in lieu Christmas gifts. Liam asked if we could do it again next year, choosing a different city to explore. When we began discussing Philadelphia as a possible destination, Liam asked us to stop talking because he wants it to be a surprise. I am thankful that we were able to travel together. Hopefully, this is the beginning of a great family tradition!
I love her writing style! She manages to be optimistic and positive while creating engaging, thought-provoking pieces. I have been moved to tears by some of her reflections and experiences.
In response to the nomination, I have to thank the blogger who nominated me and link their blog (check!), write a post and answer her 11 questions, nominate 11 other bloggers and let them know, write 11 new questions, and display the award on this post.
Here are her 11 questions…
1.) If you could have an unlimited supply of one thing for the rest of your life, what would it be?
Time. I feel like I am always trying to get the most of every day and preparing for the future. In doing this, I feel like there are never enough hours in the day. I would love to have a few extra hours to get in more runs, read more chapters of Harry Potter with Liam, throw the ball for Banjo, and maybe even just get caught up on my DVR, which always makes me feel guilty.
2.) Celebrity crush? John Green. He’s a nerd writer who looks very much like my husband, proving that I do, in fact, have a type.
3.) If you had to eat one meal every day for the rest of your life, what would it be? Pizza. I don’t even need to think about this one! I love all types of pizza: traditional pepperoni, breakfast pizza, fire cooked pizza. I could each pizza every day an never tire of it.
4.) If you had a time machine, would go back in time or into the future? I would not use it. I like where I am right now and would not want to mess with things.
5.) What would the title of your autobiography be? When I was younger, I lived in a town that was one town north of a town called Harmony. North of Harmony always seemed like a great title for an autobiography.
6.) What is your biggest accomplishment thus far? The eight-year-old who is currently playing in the yard with his dog. He is inquisitive, smart, thoughtful, reflective, and kind. If I can keep him this way, I will have lived a successful life.
7.) If you can instantly become an expert in something, what would it be? When I was younger, I wanted to earn a degree in late 18th Century American Literature and write a dissertation comparing the Peanuts characters to Mark Twain’s protagonists. Now, I am happy being happy with my life. I would love to be an expert in being content with what you have.
8.) What’s the best piece of advice you’ve ever been given? Recently, I’ve been hearing “Run the mile you’re in” a lot. It carries over into other parts of my life. I get caught up worrying about the future and worrying about what ifs.
9.) As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up? When I was very young, I wanted to be an astronaut. This dream was shattered when I realized I was scared of flying. Since I was in seventh grade, I knew I wanted to be an English teacher. I’m thankful that I am able to live my dream.
10.) You have to sing karaoke, what song do you pick? The only time I’ve even sung karaoke, I sang Superstar by the Carpenters.
11.) Are you a morning person or a night owl? When I was younger, I was a total night owl. Now, I am the exact opposite. I am in bed by 9:30 most nights, even on weekends, and rarely sleep past 7.
I made a promise to myself that I would not weigh myself during April. #noweightilmay has proved easier than I imagined. To be honest, I looked myself up and down and felt my tummy for a few days to gauge how my body felt and looked. I can tell by merely putting my hands on my hips whether or not I am bloated that day. Anyone who knows me knows that I hate surprises and need to know what is going on. While not seeming the number has been nice, it is difficult to relinquish that control that accompanies the scale.
I paid into the second round of Biggest Loser with my coworkers. We were supposed to weigh in each Monday. I skipped last week but was curious, more because I didn’t want to give up my chance at the monetary prize than for the number on the scale. Without getting on the scale, I had managed to stay the same weight for almost two weeks. Yes, I would be happy if it had gone down a few pounds, but I was pleased that I did not gain weight when I was not holding myself accountable with daily weigh-ins.
Hoping that I would be down a little, I went to the weigh-in. The scale said I was up a half pound. Whatever. I had a realization about this contest: I was not going to win. We are on vacation next week and won’t weigh in. The following Monday, I will weigh in after spending three days in New York City. We don’t get down there very often. Therefore, it would be a crime not to eat my weight (whatever that number is right now) in black and white cookies and whatever other treats I encounter. When I go away, I prefer to eat like I had been just voted off the reality show Survivor.
The kind lady who supervises the weigh-ins tried to give me friendly advice: “Just watch your portions and go for walks.”
“I ran ten miles on Saturday.”
“Oh… it’s okay; you’re not that big.”
I know her intentions we well intended. I truly believe that. If I have learned anything through my adult life, it is this: my body does not believe in being anything below a size ten. For the six months leading up to my wedding, I watched every calorie, attended back to back workout classes, ran miles and miles, and never made it below 155 pounds. (This was also before my hypothyroidism was discovered, but the weight doesn’t move below 160, even when my thyroid is in check.)
I work out a lot and eat a pretty good diet. It could always be better, but most people could say the same thing about themselves. I drink plenty of water. It has taken me a long time to accept the fact that I will never be tiny.
During this round of Biggest Loser, I have run my fastest mile. I have run my longest runs: ten plus milers. I PRed my deadlift: 210 pounds!
My obsession with my weight gives me a weird ability to remember what I weigh at any picture I see of myself. I keep an album on my phone illustrating gains and loses. As I get stronger, the number might not go down. Sometimes, It might go up. I need to remind myself that as I continue this journey.
The final weigh-in of Biggest Loser is the day after the half, May 7. I may jump on the scale to see if my final weight qualifies me for a prize. Or I may finish the race, go for a beer with my friends, celebrate that we worked together to reach a fantastic goal, and not worry about what the scale says on Monday morning!