Rocky Rockstar

That's me! Because I just had the most amazing thing happen:  today I became a runner (as opposed to a lovely, sweating, pudgy person huffing and puffing pitifully away.)  The nice british lady that lives in my iphone (Get Running App) informed me that I would be running for twenty straight mintues today, which I'll admit doesn't sound like much.  However, considering that my last run was eight mintues, then five minutes of walking, then eight more minutes of running-- that's a pretty big jump.  And I've gotten to this point before when I've attempted a couch to 5k, but I've always given up right here or life has gotten in the way--and I've never conquered it. That's right, I haven't successfully run twenty mintues straight since the earlier mentioned triathlon six years ago.  And I didn't plan to be able to today. I set off running, and tried very hard not to glare at the nice british lady that lives in my iphone.  I thought, "well, I'll do my best and go as far as I can, but if I have to hit pause in the middle, then thats what I have to do."  Only I never even thought about needing to. The nice british lady that lives in my iphone alerted me every five minutes how I was doing, and I was surprised how quickly the minutes were going by. My breathing was nice and steady, my legs weren't screaming, and (this is the best part), I was having fun.  And when the twenty minutes was up, I knew that I could have gone on.  Maybe another ten or twenty or however many minutes. (I didn't because I don't want to be one of those people that does too much too fast and gets knocked out of the race--which I mentioned yesterday.  But knowing I could've gone on makes me feel like a rockstar.)

And in a fabulous serendipitous moment, just as the lovely british lady that lives in my iphone announced that I had "just sixty more seconds of running to go", the theme from "Rocky" started playing.  No one was around but my doggy, so I totally did "Rocky hands".  And I'm not even embarrased.  Because today, I'm a rockstar.  And not only that, but today I became a runner.

A Day of Rest

I'm a pastor (i.e. nerd) so I pay attention when the Bible uses the same word over and over-- and I'm surprised by just how many times the word "rest" shows up.  Apparently, God knew that people get tired out, body and soul.  Gosh, we're even commanded to take a sabbath.  (The other nine don't seem nearly as hard for me as this one.)  And I realize that I'm one of those people God was worried about because I just go and go and go, and once I'm on something I'm on it.  I want to give something my all until there is nothing left to give.

So I was torn today as my lovely british lady that lives in my iphone (GetRunning App) told me that it was a rest day.  That is, a day off.  At first I was tempted to run anyway, because I had by then done it three or four days in a row, and I was in a good groove.  I didn't want to relapse. I didn't want to break my streak of serious dedication.  And besides, I told myself, I feel better when I get some exercise.   But I realized that my ankles have been hurting and my knees making a grinding noise like my brakes, so I talked myself out of it.  I thought about going to the gym and doing the elliptical or something, but as I gettting ready to go, I read an article in Runner's World that talked about how important it was to rest, and about how most injuries are caused by an overzealous person who goes too hard too fast.  The article said "It's better to have two quality days and two days of total rest than four days of mediocrity from lingering fatigue."  Hmmmph.  So I took the hint, and I didn't do anything.

And I was surprisingly productive anyway. My body still felt ramped up instead of sluggish.  And I know I'll be more ready to go tomorrow, even though a small part of me thinks this is counterintuitive.

But I'm seeing some results.  It's been less than a week since I got serious about actually tracking with weight watchers (apparently it only works if you actually count the points...hmmmph), and I'm down over two pounds.  And I'm learning that I don't have to give into every "want" I have, that cravings usually pass,  and that I'm not actually going to starve to death.

Going Green

Green Feather Boa? Why yes, please!

I read in this month's Weight Watchers magazine that signing up for a race is one of the best ways to stay motivated.  (Which, duh, somewhere in my over crowded brain I knew that because I've done it several times... It even worked with I did a triathlon...uh six years and 30lbs ago.)  But when my motivation was flagging, I was having a hard time recalling that advice.

I'm not Irish, but these socks are awfully fun!

I was looking for races and found one in my parents' town-- on March 17, no less.  I mean hey, if you can't do a turkey trot or a reindeer run or a jiggle butt, then you might as well do a leprechaun loop, right?  The timing was right, the place was right, so I'm in-- and training for another 5k.  (I did do a very slow Turkey Trot in November as part of my Girls on the Run Coaching, though.)  I've even talked my mom into doing the race with me.  (Right, Mom? No backing out!) I've been toying with several couch to 5k programs since before Christmas, but now with a goal in mind, it's time to get serious.  I'm using Get Running (available from the App Store).  There's a lovely british woman in my iphone that tells me when it's time to run and when I should walk.  And I'm tracking my runs with RunKeeper.  Because I'm that nerdy that I need to see stats and maps and other fun things.

I'm excited--I'm a goal driven person, so this works just right for me.  I have great plans of dressing up and going green (right again, Mom?) and having a generally goofy sort of time.  I found a lovely pair of green and white socks at Hobby Lobby that I'm thinking of buying to hang up as a visual reminder of my goal.

Seeing progress...

Huh.  Now why didn't I think of that!  That looks a lot more fun than the overly-perky "It's your weight-tracking day.  Have you tracked your weight?" reminder that pops up on my iphone every Thursday.  Because when I've had a busy, motivationless week like I have, I hit "ignore" quickly.  Who wants to fess up and watch the graph go up instead of down?

 But this is lovely.

A friend of mine suggested using quarters-- that could be loads of fun too.  Because when you hit your goal, you could spend all the glorious quarters.   But I kind of like this the way it is-- a nice, color coordinated reminder of how I'm doing.

I totally ripped this off from a friend on Pinterest.  You're welcome to rip things off me from pinterest too!  You can do that here or by clicking on the button on the right side bar.

Mean voices in my head

Love this quote: "People often say that motivation doesn't last.  Well, neither does bathing--that's why we recommend it daily." Zig Ziglar, as quoted in the Jan/Feb edition of the Weight Watchers magazine.

We were at Chick-fil-a and Mom asked, "So how many points is that?" Like I would know off the top of my head.  Uh...which I definitely would have at one point.  But truth be told, points weren't even on my radar then (or since.) I could've looked it up with my happy iphone app, but once again, my motivation is flagging.  It seems like such a big goal (even though I keep telling myself to just lose ten pounds, which is a small easy to achieve goal, some mean voice in my head says, "Uh...ten plus fifty would be closer.")  And the weather in the mornings is making it hard to run (and the new bed is forcing, yes forcing, me to stay in it longer.)  And I'm busy.  And I feel like a ten or twenty minute workout is a waste of my time (which I know it isn't, but it's those mean voices again.)

And I'm making excuses.

Tomorrow, I won't sleep through my alarm.  Tomorrow I will hit the gym even if it is too cold to run in the morning.  Tomorrow I will find my motivation.  Tomorrow will be better.

Of course, as Annie so famously sang, "Tomorrow is always a day away."

That Girl

I've always wanted to be that girl.  The one who clearly made exercise a priority.  She's the one that you see at all hours of the day, in all sorts of weather.  And she looks happy about it.  (Though, of course, she is usually spandex clad...which is lovely, because she is that dedicated that it works for her. I don't hate her for it, really.)  But I've never been that girl.                            Until yesterday. (Not the spandex part, mind you.)  Yesterday I made up my mind that I needed to run, because I'm a goal sort of person, and I've set a goal. (Read: lots and lots of goals, about lots and lots of things.)  I've decided that 2012 will be the year I finally become a runner.  And I figure in order to do that, I actually have to run.  So I did.  Even though it was cold and rainy, and even though my tennis shoes now look like I went around stomping in mud puddles. (Which I did NOT do.  Nope, not me, I'm definitely not a mud puddle stomper.  I'm too grown up for that sort of thing.)  And while I was a huffing, puffing, soggy mess, I felt accomplished.  Because before I never would have been committed enough to run in the rain.  No one was around to see, but had they been, they might have seen that girl.  Only this time, it was me.  Yeah, I'm that girl.  The one who runs in the rain--knowing it's completely ridiculous, knowing that I shouldn't, but having a delightful time anyway. 

Coffee-Flavored Sabotage!

It's sabotage, I tell you! Pure sabotage!

Only I'm doing it to myself.  But whatever the case, it's a problem.  On days when I work from home, I seem to want to keep my coffee mug filled up with something warm and caffeinated--especially on chilly, soggy days like this one.  I used to be a one cup a day sort of girl, but now I'm moving up around the 3-4 a day range.  (And I love it so much, that in the afternoons I'm just as happy with the low-voltage version.)
Not only do I recognize that 1)this habbit is expensive and that 2) no one needs that much caffeine, but there's a bigger problem. I don't do "black" coffee.  In fact, my husband calls my concoction a "coffee milkshake." I think that's a little unfair, but I do like...uhem... a bit of cream and sugar.

I looked at my WW log one day, and realized that I had used up six points on nothing but my coffee addiction.  That's a lot.

I've heard people suggest things like drinking warm broth, but seriously? I've tried the tea thing, and while there are some marvelous flavors, I still prefer a nice cup o' joe.  At least with tea, I can stomach using splenda (with fiber, no less...double fab points for me!) instead of sugar, but I just am not willing to do that to my poor, innocent coffee.

I don't know what the answer is, but I'm going to have to find one... I am unwilling to lose this battle due to  sabotage. I just wish that coffee flavored sabotage didn't taste so good.

Note to Self

So after a late night at the hospital with a member of my congregation, I was just wiped out.  I was barely conscious to scowl as my alarm clock rang at 5 this morning, and I slept for another two hours.  Which of course meant that I didn't go to the gym or shake what my momma gave me by doing Zumba in the comfort of my living room.  At some point, I had to start being productive.

But here's the problem.  I haven't been productive at all.  And not only that, but all I've wanted to do is graze as I've attempted to be productive from home.  My mind has wandered, and I have no mental focus at all.  Wait.  What was I talking about?

Being the ever-observant one, I made a mental note.  Exercise is not only the key to weight-loss but apparently also the key to conquering the world. It also apparently has quite a bit to do with the internal voice in my head that keeps insisting I need "a little something for my tummy" as Winnie the Pooh (and my mom) say.  When I don't exercise, well... it just ain't pretty.  Now if you don't mind, I'm going to drink my third or fourth cup of coffee and resume my spot on the couch, and stare at the screen in hopes that a sermon shows up.  Or at least lament the fact that one hasn't shown up so far.  Which seems easier than actually going for a run right now.

A New Year, A New Start

That's right folks, the Pudgy Parson is back and ready to conquer the world, after a blah-inspired hiatus.  And I couldn't be happier (or feel better).

My body started all sorts of foul back-talk in the week after Christmas.  It said "Enough, already! Enough!"  My stomach was ten shades of mean from all the rich foods I had been eating during the...uhem...holidays (which embarrasingly lasted from Thanksgiving through Christmas).  So the doggie and I (and her fun new hands free leash) headed out for some bonding time in the neighborhood at my in-laws. I think I managed to get in a walk three of the five days we were there--which was pretty amazing considering how busy we stayed.

But once we got back (and picked up the new Iphone which had been waiting on me), I've been on the move ever since.  I've either gone walking in the cornfields or running in the park or have  hit the gym every single day.  I have all sorts of snazzy new programs that are helping me get back into running. (Seriously...a few weeks makes that much difference? I thought I was going to die.  Or at least pant really unattractively forever.)

And I'm back to weight watchers, which meant I had to confess the yes, sixteen point sandwhich I had at Jimmy Johns yesterday.  Good thing I'd been doing all that exercising!

Here's to 2012: the year of the pudgeless parson!