It's not you, it's me. Or, We're just on a break (and so it's not really cheating)

I had to break up with running again.

I know, I know. At this rate, he's never going to take me back, but it had to be done. At first, the decision put me into a bit of a tailspin. For whatever reason, in the back of my mind I equated "no running" with "no weight loss." I was convinced that not running would mean not ever getting back to a healthy weight and not ever being fit again. Which is stupid, of course, but when I starting taking my health seriously, running was a huge factor in my success. It's no wonder that now, as I re-focus and re-commit, the absence of running made me feel defeated before I even started.

Enter common sense.

After finally finding an experienced, knowledgeable massage therapist who gave me my first relief from pain since August, I sat back and re-evaluated my situation. First off, the damage to my hip is not muscular it's connective tissue damage and therefore is going to take a very long time to heal. Second, the best thing I can do for the hip is to strengthen my core, butt and hamstrings. Third, running is not going to do those things or, put another way, there are better, more effective ways to build strength than running. Fourth (and here's the big one), running is the only exercise that actually hurts. Yes, the hip gives me grief if I sit too long, or drive, or sleep funny, but all in all, yoga, Shred and Jillian's Fat Blast DON'T hurt it.

And so, I broke up with running. Not forever, no, we're just on a break, I say. But for now, there are other ways to drop weight and build strength and none of them have to hurt.

Sorry, running. You're just going to have to wait.

Let's pretend this is two years ago

I was a very new runner when I got preggers - less than a year in to the sport. I had finished just one 10 km race and was planning for another. I ran my second just days before finding out I had had a running partner along without knowing it. I continued running until well into my pregnancy (more appropriately, I shuffled along in running gear), and thought that once the wee one arrived I'd wake early, kiss the little angel and head out the door for my 6 miles before breakfast. Because, well, that's just what mum's did, right?

Of course, when Chou arrived she informed me that she was a morning baby. In summer, that was up before six; in winter, shortly after. She also informed me that upon waking she expected to be nursed. Every time.

In short, I never did become a morning runner. The year on mat leave I often ran mid-morning or late afternoon with Chou tucked in the stroller. Often I'd duck out the door while dinner simmered on the stove. Sundays were for long runs around 9 am.

Then, two weeks ago, Chou weaned. It's been two weeks of horrid night time routines (or lack thereof) trying to find some way to get her to bed without it ending in tears or us staying with her for hours at a time. But there's an upside — I'm no longer "on call" between the hours of 5:30 and 7 am. Sure, the husband has to get up and get ready for work, but he can do that while Chou is up and about.

So I got to thinking that maybe it's not too late to become one of those morning runners.

Tomorrow, we find out.

It's just my style

I've got five weeks before the hypo half. Guess who hasn't gone running in months? Yes, months. I'm a lazy arse with a million different excuses, I know. So instead of making promises I don't intend to keep or trying to pump myself up, I'm just going to accept that each year I sign up for an early half only to not run it, then PR the next one a few months later. OK? So deal, I just donated my entry fee to the cause (the Running Room is a cause? Sure.) I'm totally picking up my race kit though. Can you say black shiny fanny pack? HOT!

In other news, the job interview on Friday went well. Maybe too well. As in, I think I might get the job and then what? I'm going to have to work my ass off. But heck, I asked for more, and I'm (maybe) getting more. I have no one to blame but me.

Oh, but the big shake up? Still in the works. Just in an edited form.

Also, two days of being snowed in apparently makes me a very hyper, happy person. Weird.

Snowed under

We're snowed under here. Not literally, mind you. In fact, it's nearly December and the sun is shining, there isn't a flake of snow left from October's storms and they're calling for plus temps through to the weekend.

No, my friends, we're snowed under by life right about now.

First off, don't start with the "I told you not to get a puppy when you've got a toddler blah blah blah" because, you know what? Pico is a doll. She's a doll! Yes, she's a puppy - she chews, jumps, pees now and then on the floor, but I've raised a few puppies in my day and none of them have been this keen to catch on to desired behavior. She's crated all night and only makes a sound when she hears me up with Chou. She's already spending an hour by herself outside digging, chewing, chasing and jumping. She comes when she's called. She loves Chou and they entertain the pants off each other.

Still, she is a puppy and having her here has changed the dynamic (for the better, but I'll get to that).

What's going on, really, is that our lives - work especially - are headed for busy town and there ain't no end until the spring. The husband is stressed out, pulled in a million directions at work and is feeling a bit over-run in paperwork. His physical well-being is suffering because he can't find the time to swim and work out. Our relationship consists mainly of chatting over dinner about what has yet to get done. The house is a disaster, the To Do list a mile long.

When the hubby's job gets busier, I've usually picked up the slack at home. The problem now is that my job is heading into its busy season. And when I say "busy season" I mean triple (I'm not kidding) the number of issues per month we did back in September. And we do that for three months straight. Add to that the farm shows and on-location coverage I'm supposed to do, plus a farm writers upcoming conference I'm on the board for, plus doula-ing, plus oh right WE HAVE A TODDLER, and well, both of us need a stiff drink at the end of the day (except that I'm trying to cut out booze. Which is just mean, universe).

This morning I took some time on the walk home to get mentally sorted out. Instead of forcing myself to write when I didn't feel like it, I organized my white board and created a new strategy for meeting my deadlines.

Then I got the greatest idea ever of leaving this all behind to start farming with Jen P and can you believe she turned me down? Something about not wanting to live in Saskatchewan. Unbelievable! :)

Oh, but guess what's taken a total back seat amidst all this tomfoolery? Yup, running. I missed Sunday's long run and haven't even trotted about for 30 minutes since.

I need an extra hour in the day.

And a maid.

That's about right

I weighed in this morning after two weeks on my supposed health kick, 10 lb-loss-by Christmas eve thing. Before I tell you what my whopping weight loss was, let me tell you that it is more than fair for the amount of effort I've put in to the challenge thus far.

Ready?

I've lost...drum roll please....

.2 pounds!

Yes! .2 pounds! Not even a half! And the crowd goes wild!

Ok. Enough, enough. Sit down.

Sigh.

Where to begin?

The good:

Managed to run with Jen P. It felt great, but clearly wasn't enough to overcome my inertia. I rode, also good and because I have a standing date there, will ride again. Also good. I've picked up the pace walking Chou to daycare and walked her all but one day out of the last seven drop offs (it's a solid 20-25 minutes twice a day when I bring her). This week has been quite good for my eating - lost of salads with dinner and I've purged the house of yucky stuff and left only the good stuff. I've even dusted off the WW recipes and I'm loving them.

The bad:

Um, Halloween and the trip to Winnipeg did nothing good for my eating habits. I've managed to cut down my liquor consumption, but still have not entirely cut it out (which for me, really helps). I'm still eating too much total and grazing too much and eating too few veggies.

The awful:

In the past two weeks here is my workout tally:

A 30 minute run

Done.

Seriously.

And I have no idea how to jump start this except with jumper cables, a cattle prod and an electric fence all while standing in water. Seriously folks, the level of inertia I feel morning, noon and night feels insurmountable right now.

I know others who are feeling lousy, are way busier or seriously knocked up who are literally running, lifting, biking and swimming circles around me.

I also know that now and again this happens. My mind has decided the body doesn't like moving and full stop, that's the end of it.

So what I need from you is encouragement. OK? And keep the swears to a minimum please.

Sincerely,
The Inert One

Call me silly

But I can't wait to re-stock my fridge and pantry. There's something just so about filling your cupboards with nutritious foods, new spices, sauces and staples.

In the meantime, I have to use up what's already here and find homes for what's left. The plants all have new homes. The last bag of milk is in the jug (oh, I cannot wait for 4 L jugs! Stupid plastic bags.). Chou is out rummaging around in the park one last time. This time tomorrow we'll be loading up and heading over to a friend's for our last few nights in perfect company.

The midwife and I went for our last (for now) run together. I'm washing all my running gear and packing it (in the suitcase, not the boxes). We had our mummy group so long party on Friday. The phone gets disconnected on Wednesday. This lovely computer gets mailed tomorrow.

Holy shit.

This is really happening.

This is likely the last blog-o from O town...we'll see you out west!

Wish us luck.

Here new favorite thing. With an old favorite thing (GeeRaff)
Happy Easter everyone!

The F Word

No, not that one, worse than that.

That's right, focus.

It's a term that keeps coming up, usually following the words "I can't".

What's got me a little put out is that it's not just work, it's life, it's training, it's my health and my home. Sure, I'd like to blame it all on the craziness that has been our life for the last few weeks, but that's only been the straw to break the camel's back, not the problem itself.

Any mums can relate. Lately the only conversations I have with my momma friends revolve around this return to work, in no matter what capacity. We're all bright women with goals and aspirations, and not all of them job-related. We're struggling with balancing time with our children with bringing home an income, but more than this we're struggling with promising more than we can deliver or, gasp, not being able to focus on what we do have in front of us. Personally, what I'm CAPABLE of and what I'm WILLING to commit to are two very different beasts right now. That goes hand in hand with feeling somewhat unfulfilled with work and questioning the balance of time spent working.

In reality, my days are not so bad and the my return to earning a meager wage has gone swimmingly. Chou transitioned to day care like a duck to water. I've managed to pick up right where I left off and I'm at least mostly excited about the tasks at hand. If I suffer from focus issues now and again, I blame the still somewhat sleepless nights and making milk (it's a very big draw on my system, OK?)

Where I'm really struggling to focus is on training. In fact, I can officially say I'm no longer training. For anything. And it's a slippery slope. My Weight Watchers coupons ran out this week. In two weeks I've pounded out....three.whole.miles. I'm carbo loading, boredom eating and watching the pants get tighter, the sleep get worse and my skin break out. This isn't about weight loss, this is a lack of focus on health. See? It's that F word again.

And just when I needed it most, the latest Running Room magazine arrived in the mail. There's an article in there that really hit home. I do need to take a step back, REFOCUS, prioritize healthy eating, build core strength and lean muscle mass, stretch and drop some unnecessary pounds. I officially admit that my periformus (sp?) is not getting better. Guess what was also covered in today's magazine? Yep. I need to address this before it hamstrings my running for good.

I dropped out of the Ottawa half last week. I'll consider my $45 entry fee a goodbye gift to my former home city. I started looking at signing up for the Manitoba Half, and then realized I don't have to run a half this spring. I can run the Queen City Half in September. Nearly a year between big races is just fine.

At the very least, it'll give me time to focus.

Oh right, training

Remember how I said I was going to train? Right.

Things have not been going well in the training department. Unless not doing anything counts as training. Then, I'm kicking ass.

I did manage two 3-mile runs last week, but only because I have an amazing midwife who recently joined weight watchers and wants to do a half in May. She called me twice and wouldn't take no for an answer. I even pushed the stroller for one run - wow, I say.

But then said amazing midwife took a very selfish vacation and left me to find my own motivation. Hmph. And as you guessed, I didn't find it. She's back this week, thank goodness.

In the meantime, I had managed to kick the baking habit for a full two weeks, and then promptly crumbled and made both muffins and cookies (in my defense both were for get-togethers and most of the muffins stayed there. The cookies? Not one survived after just 24 hours. But they were small. Right.)

The calendar says it's the last day of November. By now I figured I'd be a solid three weeks or more into strength training and non-running stuff. Instead I'm looking at January 18th with more than a little trepidation. Why, you ask? I've decided to run a half in early May. And what's 15 weeks prior to that date? January 18th. And here's me thinking I would have maintained a 6-mile base. Um, no. But I do have a 3 mile base, which, compared to this last go round is 3 miles better than last time.

My new goal is to get three 3-mile runs in a week. Or any three days of activity. I'll bloody well count laundry if I have to, but I just want three workouts in in a week is that so much to ask, Body?


The Chou, judging my inactivity. We do have daily tickle fights. Do those count?


She looks like all she needs is a cigarette the way she's got her hip jutting out there. At least she's not face-planting anymore...much.