Sunday, April 14, 2013

Discipline and The New You

So yesterday I went out for little jog, as usual for Saturday morning. I got up at 4am, ate my oatmeal, drank my coffee, got out and was on the road and ready to run by 5am. It started out pretty good, but as the day dawned I started to get a little frustrated. Notice I said, "the day dawned" and not "the sun rose". Because I'm pretty sure that yesterday the ol' sun decided to take himself a little sabbatical and not come out at all. He stuck a really big version of one of those curly light bulbs in the sky, threw some clouds over them so no one would notice, and went back to bed.

Now, normally I'm totally stoked when there is cloud cover while I'm running. Because it means I don't have to endure the life-sucking heat rays of the aforementioned sun. But it was really really gloomy yesterday, and having recovered from a cold I'd had earlier that week, I was just hoping for some warm sunshine to heat my cold, cabin-fevered bones. Then, to make matters worse, around mile 7 my silly phone started to malfunction. The "voice dialer" would activate for no particular reason, and no matter how many times I hit the "quit" button, it refused to disengage. The reason this was irritating is that the music I was listening to kept starting and stopping, and we all know that it's impossible to run without some sort of mechanical distraction plugged into our ears to drown out the gasping, wheezing, grunting and thigh flapping sounds our bodies make when we run.  Now my poor phone has been through a lot these past few months. It's been dropped, stepped on, and otherwise tortured, so it runs slow and has all sorts of interesting glitches. Once in awhile, when I ask it do something complicated (like run a GPS sports tracker app and play music at the same time,) it stomps its feet, crosses its arms, shakes its head and says, "you must be kidding". So yesterday's technical difficulties had me fiddling with my phone for a good 20 minutes and then having to warm up all over again and convince my legs to finish the rest of my run.

So when I did finish my run, I was kind of bummed. I felt "off my game" and figured I hadn't done too well, but when I sat down to rest (which by the way you're not supposed to do, you're supposed to stretch right away after running to keep your muscles from cramping up, so do what I say and not what I do), and looked at my tracking app, I was surprised to find that I'd done a lot better than I thought I had. I had set out to finish 14 miles, which I did, and with a time 6 minutes faster than my previous best time for that distance. So much for "having a bad run". Even though I'd been discouraged, my body had disengaged itself from my brain and all the negative thoughts and just done what I'd trained it to do: run at a comfortable pace until I finished the distance I wanted to finish that day. And I realized that that has been the key to my success in running. The work I put into my training has accomplished its purpose in bringing me to the level I desire to be, so that even when I have a difficult time in doing it, I have what I need to complete what I set out to do.

It's been an interesting journey these past few years, seeing the changes that have come to pass in my life.  The obvious changes have of course been those directly related to running. I've been blessed to have a lot of things come together for me to make it possible to enjoy running: my desire to be healthy, the nice weather in my hometown, good places to run, time to be out running. But the main foundation of all these changes has been one thing: discipline. Sometimes we think of that as almost a dirty word, because when we realize we are not disciplined, we feel guilty and try to hide from it. Even though we know the habits we have are dragging us down and causing a lot of damage, we deny there is anything wrong and keep doing what we want because we either think we don't need to change, or that even if we want to change it is impossible. Throughout my life I've dealt with these thoughts in many areas of my life, it just happens that my weight was the most evident of them and the biggest obstacle for me to overcome. It has taken monumental amounts of work to get where I am now in my fitness level, and I was only able to do it because I allowed discipline to take control in my life.

So I've been at this for two years now. I have trained myself to think and act differently in how I regard fitness and specifically, eating and running, and then apply the knowledge continuously through my actions. That is the root of discipline. First you think it, then you do it, and keep doing it even when it seems hard. You remind yourself constantly of where you've been, who you want to be, and don't let yourself fall below the standards you set because you know and believe you can be what you want to be, and don't allow yourself to settle for anything less.  So how do you do that? It starts with the decision to change. You put aside all the negative thoughts, tell your stupid brain to just shut up, and you take the first step. Then another and another and another. And when you reach your goal, don't ever look back, because if you allow yourself to think your old thoughts for even a second, it's too easy to rationalize a little bit here and a little bit there until you realize you've undone all your hard work and gone back to being the person you fought so hard to leave behind.

The discipline I've developed in my running has had the incredible effect of spilling over into other areas of my life. I don't really want to go into specific detail because it would greatly increase the length of this post, but I wanted to mention it because it has been such an amazing experience for me over the past couple of years. I have seen the physical change in my body, but have reaped the most benefits in joy, peace, in my heart and in my spirit, by finding the courage to deal with other areas of my life that, like my weight, had discouraged and plagued me for much of my life, causing me to feel like a failure, like a dead weight, worthless and empty. I have been set free by cultivating discipline in my life, and though I'm far from perfect, I wake up every day knowing it is possible for me to live victoriously over all my character flaws, that I have the tools I need to overcome any obstacles, and that life from now on can only get better for me. I only hope to encourage all my readers that whatever it is that is holding you back, just let it go and take the first step. It may be hard to let go of some habits or ideas that you think define you and how you live, but if you want to make the change, just do it and don't look back. I promise the only regret you will have is that you didn't do it sooner.

As usual, thank you again for reading, and feel free to share/repost if you are encouraged.
Until next time!
-MaryAnne

Sunday, April 7, 2013

Caution: Running Can Be Contagious

So a couple months ago, I registered for a silly little race in Hollywood, CA, the aptly named "Hollywood Half Marathon". Some friends had run it last year, and I thought it sounded like fun. Festive, nice shiny blingy medal, and not too many hills (Hellooooo, New Year's Race). So after I signed up, I went through my usual routine: blab about it on Facebook, blab about it to my friends, blab about it at church, and so on.  And a funny thing happened. People started asking me if they could join too. Now, this particular race had all the perks of a good race: multiple options (5k, 10k and half marathon), nice shirts, interesting course, and of course the aforementioned shiny blingy medals for all finishers. Pretty soon I was carrying my laptop with me every time I went to church, so that I could register anyone who asked. I became kind of an informal team captain, organizing the group and by the time race day arrived, there were 9 of us in all, including myself, most of them first time racers.

I was the only one doing the half marathon. That is my favorite race distance, for the simple fact that I'm lazy. That might sound strange, but I think about it like this: it might be longer, but I don't have to run as fast. When I run a 5k or a 10k, I really run it hard, because I know I won't have to keep up the pace for a long while. But when I do a half marathon, for the first two thirds or so, I keep my pace down and enjoy the run, then pick up a bit towards the end. It's like a nice two and a half hour jog around the neighborhood. The rest of the group signed up for the 5k and 10k races, and as we started there was the usual sense of anticipation with my group and the entire crowd as a whole. As we crossed the starting line, we separated out. The guys took off running, I did my usual "go ahead and pass me now, I'm gonna pass your butt later when you're all tired out because you don't know how to pace yourself" jog, and the other ladies stayed back walking.

My race went really well. The course was the usual for Los Angeles: city streets, freeway overpasses, concrete water holes that they try to pass off as lakes. The first part of the race was under a heavy cloud layer, but within the last 4 miles I could see the Griffith Observatory up on the hill above me. I never saw the Hollywood sign, it was probably visible but I was too busy trying not to bump into costumed runners around me. You would think the Hollywood race would inspire people to dress as celebrities, but instead it was the usual assortment of superheroes and random wackiness. Lots of Supermen and Superwomen, at least one Batman and Wonder Woman. I'm trying to figure that out. I guess maybe Wonder Woman runs sometimes, and when he's not flying Superman can run really fast, but what's with Batman? He doesn't run, he just drives around in his Batmobile. How come I never see anybody dressed up as the Flash? You'd think that would be the first one that comes to mind. But I digress. My favorite costume of the day was a tie between the 5 Marilyn Monroes (I think maybe one of them was a dude?) and Giant Banana Guy. Not sure how he ran in that thing, but it was definitely entertaining. I suppose one of these times I'll dress up in costume for a race, but then again....nah. Unless you can find Xena Warrior Princess in dri tech fabric, then I'll be all over that. 

I finished my race in about the time I thought I would, and assembled the group for finish line photos. They were all excited, looking at their medals, laughing and chatting about the experience. We drove back to the South Bay, and went into the local Hometown Buffet in full race regalia, with our race bibs still pinned to our shirts and medals dangling from our necks. People stared at first, then began smiling as we passed back and forth from the buffet to our table. Knowing smiles, as if to say, "ah, you guys earned those calories!". 

I've done so many races now that I've lost count, but the one I'll always remember the most was my first race. The Run Seal Beach 5k in April of 2011. I remember signing up. I remember going for walks to prepare. I remember waiting for the starting whistle, getting out on the course, and trying to keep up with the little old ladies and moms pushing strollers. I remember every moment of that first race, and the exhilaration of finishing, even though it was just a 5k, it was a big moment for me because I'd never done it before. So sitting in Hometown Buffet, listening to my friends chat and laugh and tell stories about what had happened during their race was like being back at that first day myself, feeling that joy and satisfaction of meeting that goal and knowing it was possible to think bigger.  The party continued today as the group all came to church with their medals. At the end of the service we all put them on and I enjoyed once again hearing the stories as they went around talking to the people who had "opted out" of the race. Nods and smiles all around, I'm thinking I better get started with planning the next round, because I just might have a bigger crowd to coordinate!

The funny thing is that I've wanted very much to encourage people to join me in my races because of all that running and racing have done for my health.  Two of my previous races I've been able to get groups together from church, but not as big as this one! And each time the result was the same, people being encouraged and inspired by their accomplishment, and enjoying the benefits of being active. This experience has demonstrated to me that all that I've done with my running is getting the attention of people that otherwise wouldn't have thought of trying it. It turns out that running is contagious! I caught the bug myself at that first race two years back, and now it seems I'm spreading it to everyone else!

My goal moving forward is to keep encouraging people to join me in my fitness routine. Not just the races, but overall exercise and activity. I'm always happy when people come to me and tell me how they have been walking and seeing the results of it. Some of the people from Saturday's race are already asking me when the next one will be. Some of them are interested in moving up to the next level. Gleefully, they say, "wow, that was too easy!". I love it. Because I know exactly how they feel.

I love running and I love doing races. No matter what happens, I am going to keep running. But how much more wonderful is it that just by doing something I love I can inspire others to also take control of their health and have fun doing it too? It's an amazing feeling! I look forward to seeing what is to come, but for now I'm just enjoying seeing my little group shine and smile, the same way I did back when I first started. They may never get to the marathon level, but whatever level they reach, it's going to be much more than they ever thought possible. And that is the best reward of all.

Thank you again to my approximately 12 loyal readers. I may not have a big crowd of followers but the ones I've got are the most loyal and wonderful friends that I could ever hope to have. Thank you for following my story, always encouraging me and making me smile. Until Next Time!

-MaryAnne

Thursday, April 4, 2013

Curse You, Taco Day

Today's post has actually been sitting here in my computer for a few weeks now. I started writing a post about how I both love and hate taco day at work because I love to eat yummy tacos, but I struggle to deal with food temptations because I'm still trying to lose weight. I wasn't able to finish the post and publish it, and as the days passed I found myself beginning to think about the entire history of my relationship with food. It wasn't an overnight occurrence that got me from being a skinny kid to an obese adult, it was a gradual process of developing bad habits that has only been undone by an equally gradual process of self education and discipline that continues now, and always will for the rest of my life.

I have struggled my whole life with food. I've always loved food. The taste, the smell, the texture, everything. Ever since I can remember, my thoughts have revolved around food. When the next time would be that I would eat, what I would eat, how much of it I would be able to get. As a kid, my parents kept my eating habits in check by providing healthy foods and avoiding giving me an excess of sweets and sugary stuff, but whenever I had the opportunity, I found ways to get my hands on those things. Nearly every penny of birthday money and allowance that I got went to buy candy, sweets, junk food and the like. As I got older and more independent, the amount I ate increased exponentially with the freedom I had and the income I received from working, no matter that my parents and other people that cared about me tried to warn me that it wasn't healthy.

From my teenage years and into my adulthood I continued to eat to excess. I ate everything I loved without limitation. I knew the things I was eating weren't "healthy", but I didn't even try to look into nutritional information because I knew it would make me feel guilty about what I was doing, so I avoided it like the plague. Likewise, portion sizes were an unknown concept to me. To me, a portion consisted of the amount of food I could get into myself at any given time until I felt uncomfortable. I didn't just stuff myself at special occasions, I did it every day, every meal, and in between. If there was a super size available, I took it. And more often than not, I added more on top of that. As the years went by, my eating habits caught up with me, and I was incredibly overweight, but I remember being in a kind of denial. I didn't hate myself, I didn't feel guilty, I loved food and eating and didn't think there was anything wrong with me no matter how big I got. I knew all the health risks but put them out of my mind, ignored doctor's advice and went on eating as though there were no consequences.

The first time I was forced to face the health issues of obesity head-on was when I was pregnant with my youngest child. I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes in the later months of my pregnancy, and the nutritionist assigned to me put me on a very strict, precise diet to bring my blood sugar levels in line. I had to measure my blood sugar 4 times a day, and despite the diet I was on, I had to inject insulin because my blood sugar levels were still too high. When my daughter was born, I was 50 lbs and 3 sizes smaller than when I had gotten pregnant with her because of the effect of the drastic diet. I should have taken a hint and started to educate myself about nutrition then, but instead I started thinking about how those "mean" doctors had deprived my of my favorite foods, and as soon as my blood sugar levels went back to normal, I told myself it was ok to "indulge", and that it wasn't possible to gain back all of those 50 lbs that I had lost. But it was, and I did. And that was the point I reached two years ago when I realized I had no choice to but to make some changes or face the ultimate consequence of that level of unhealthy living.

It's hard to say the exact moment of truth that started my weight loss journey two years ago. I have touched on some of my motivations in previous posts, and I think it was a combination of things. The "bathroom mirror moment". Being denied life insurance because of my weight. My physical limitations. The heart palpitations, dizziness and shortness of breath. So many factors, so many variables. I was stubbornly able to ignore and deny so many things for so long, but the biggest obstacle was my relationship with food. I've written a lot of posts about my exercise routines, but the real key to my weight loss has been learning about nutrition, and changing my view of food from being a form of entertainment for me, to being the fuel my body needs to function. And it's been hard. As I mentioned above, many of the foods that I enjoy eating also happen to be things that are just really, really, really, really unhealthy when eaten in excess. I love taco day! Which is why I hate it. I want to eat healthy, but find myself constantly challenged by food temptations wherever I go. It's easy to eat healthy when the other options aren't present, but it's a struggle when they are right in front of your face and you have to fight a battle with your own stupid brain to just walk away and not eat something that you know will undo a lot of hard work, just because it tastes so good! If I could go the rest of my life and only have a steady stream of healthy, reasonable foods presented to me, I would be the happiest person on the planet, because I would never have to face my food demons.

I have spent the last two years of my life completely changing the way I view food and eating. I research, read, and experiment. I've learned what carbs are, what they do, and why they are necessary. I've learned the benefits of low-glycemic carbs vs. high-glycemic carbs. I know what protein does, what fiber does, and what vitamins, minerals, and electrolytes do. I've learned what is in different foods, and which foods I should avoid, which I should indulge in, and which I should have but in small amounts. I read ingredient lists and nutritional information panels, I know to scrutinize serving sizes and do math in my head to calculate the real information and not the numbers the companies want you to see. I know to ignore the front of labels, to avoid prominently displayed store displays and to never buy anything just because it says "healthy" "whole grain" "fat free" "gluten free" "low carb" "high protein" or whatever the trendy health buzz-word of the week is. There is an entire industry out there preying on people like me, who want to eat healthy but struggle to find the healthy options that provide the equivalent of the good feelings our former unhealthy favorites gave us. Thankfully, there are enough companies and organizations out there that really do want to help people succeed, the trick is learning to tell the legit from the fakers, and finding enough healthy replacement options to keep you on track when those really tough temptations come calling.

My relationship with food will always be a struggle for me. I will always want to eat too much of things I shouldn't, even though I am now fully aware of the detrimental effects they can have on my health. I will continue to try diligently to eat properly, while knowing that I am not perfect and will occasionally fail in this effort. I will not beat myself up over a temporary indulgence and will refuse to see such indulgence as an indicator of permanent failure. I know that I have come too far and learned too much to go back to my old ways. I still have a ways to go to reach my final weight loss goal, and each morning I wake up, I prepare myself to face the oncoming onslaught of food temptations and discouraging thoughts that I know are coming my way. But I am confident of my ability to finally and permanently beat this thing and live the life I was meant to have, healthy and strong. And no matter how many Taco Tuesday I have to endure, I know I can do it because I've already come this far.

Thank you again for reading! If you enjoy my posts, please feel free to repost on Facebook, send to friends, etc. I hate to ask but I'm trying to find an audience beyond my 12 or so devoted readers here, so please pimp me out to your friends if you think they will be encouraged.
Until next time...