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the ups and downs (and flats) of progress

 

There are a bunch of things that I need to blog about.  But for the moment, I’m taking a moment to share a thought about weight loss.

Here is my a line graph of my weight from the past year.

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I’m pretty good at losing weight, when I intend to.

I’m also pretty good at losing track of my intention and gaining it, too.

Lately, things have been going pretty well in that department.  I had that half marathon a few weekends ago, and the training for that (provided one doesn’t use that as permission to face plant into a tub of pub cheese) makes it fairly easy to lose without being overly stringent with diet.

And losing usually begets more losing – for me, anyway – until something happens.

This past week, I had some things happening.  More opportunities for boozing than usual. I took it easy for a few days after the half marathon.  I didn’t get in a long run over the weekend.  We went out for dinner a few times.  It was a good week, with a lot of fun times.  I didn’t do anything I regretted later.  I didn’t make terrible choices.  I just didn’t intend to lose weight.

And I didn’t.

And for the first time that I can remember, it was ok.  I didn’t feel bitter or depressed or unmotivated to continue.  I don’t have to post a loss every week.  And I don’t have to feel badly about it when I don’t.*

 

*I have not turned into some zen acceptance master overnight. When I say that I didn’t lose any weight at my last weigh-in, I mean that I weighed in at the exact same weight as last week.  Had that shown an actual gain, deserved or otherwise, you might be reading about my petulant pity and pie.

 

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more half marathon

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This is Michelle.  We did another half marathon together on Saturday, our third one together now.

We have a fairly complimentary running pace (although she’s faster, but will deny it).  And we live close enough to one another that we can manage to get together some times on weekends for our long runs.  It’s quite handy.

There is a strangeness, though:  our running camaraderie, which I appreciate tremendously, seems to largely depend on an ongoing disagreement we have.

She makes me do what I couldn’t do alone.  She not only tolerates my grumpus attitude, but responds to it with insane optimism and compliments.  When I grovel at her all pitiful and beg her to run with me because I am too full of hate to carry on, she’s all “that sounds awesome!  let’s do it!”

And then!  Then she gets all grateful about what I got her to do.

And so we bicker, about who made whom do what and who should take responsibility for the motivation.

But I am telling you, my time for this grotesquely hot* half marathon would have been at least 30 minutes longer without her.   I would have given in to a laborious jog/walk plod after the first three miles.  It could have been a very long, boring, and sad struggle.

Instead, even though it wasn’t the PR I was hoping for, it was still 20 minutes faster than my worst half times.  And our pace for the first 8 miles was actually surprisingly good.  And she somehow inspired me to all out sprint it at the very end.

I totally owe that woman some bacon.

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*Please don’t judge, but grotesquely hot means about 85 degrees.  When the temperature runs from 58 to 72 degrees all the time  forever, we suffer in any deviation.

 

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Filed under Running, the bitch goddess, Uncategorized

I got a mammogram today

People do a lot of stuff with pink ribbons to promote breast cancer awareness. 

I’m don’t really get why there’s so much hype about generating this awareness, though. It’s not like this is some rare and mysterious ailment. We all know of at least one someone who’s had it.  

So even though it’s personal and kind of awkward to talk about, I’m just putting it out there.  I got a mammogram today, for the first time. 

It wasn’t that big of a deal.    

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what it means to run a marathon relay

I ran in the Big Sur International Marathon this weekend.  And before you get all zippy about that, I ran it as a relay with 4 other people.  Which really just means that I did a simple, short 5 mile run.

I’ve never done a relay before and I was full of questions about what it would be like

I knew that our team would be running our legs independently, so I logically knew that I would be alone, but still… the vision in my head looked mostly like this:

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TEAM!

The reality was a lot more like this:

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ALONE.

From my experience of one race, here’s what I now know and impart to you…
-Because it’s happening simultaneously with the actual marathoning, a relay marathon must suffer all the same hoopty and brouhaha. This means I had to wake up at the grotesque hour of 3:20 am.  For a race start of 6:45 am.  So that I could run 5 miles.

-Leaving The David and Vinny, the 2nd and 3rd legs, to get on the bus to take me to the start was a super strange feeling.  We’re all in this race boat together, and now it’s “so long chum!  see you in 8 hours!”

-As the runner of our first leg, I had to contend with the actual race start and thousands of marathoners.  I could write a whole other blog post (stay tuned, maybe I will) or possibly even a scathing treatise of hate just about this race start.  It took an hour to get through the porta-potty lines and bag check.  Just so I could run 5 miles.

-Finishing my leg, seeing the exchange point and sprinting up to The David to pass off our relay slap bracelet was fun and exciting.  That was a pretty cool 15 seconds of “Hooray!  I’m doing a relay!  I’m passing my baton!  Go team go!”   But then he ran away.  Another 5 miles away.  Leaving me alone with the other Leg 1ers.  So that he could go run 5 miles.

-Finishing leg 1 meant that I was 21 miles away from the finisher’s village and was currently just stuck on the side of the road.  A very beautiful road, granted.  There were bananas and gatorade, but other than a promise of a bus ride back in another 3 hours, that was all I got.  Possibly another sort of marathon, one that’s not taking place on such a scenic, yet inaccessible and remote course, wouldn’t have this problem.  But being stranded for hours and hours of forever is a big fat dislike.

-So I went ahead and walked the next leg, and found The David at the end of leg 2. On my team, I ran one leg and walked a second.  The 3rd legger went ahead and ran the 4th leg, as well, and then ran/walked to the end (for a total of 16 miles!).  The 4th leg runner also ran the 5th leg.  All the extra running wasn’t about wanting to do a longer run, it was about wanting to get to the finish, rather than be stranded somewhere along the course.  Except for me.  I travelled 10 miles and was still el stucko.

-We had to be at the shuttle pick-up point to be carted off to the start at 4 am. The bus dropped us off at the finisher’s village around noon.  Not counting the next shuttle ride we had to take to get back to the parking lot where we’d left the car that morning, that is 8 HOURS of time for the sake of running 5 MILES.  Which kind of means that I had a pace of 96 minute miles.

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replacements

So, yesterday I told you all about my destructive jeans behavior.

Which was a precursor to telling you about having to get some new jeans, because I had none.  Zero.  The very last pair, of any size, busted open this past weekend.

Having no jeans to wear would mean too many instances of tights.  Or certain doom.

So I walked to the Levi’s store on a lunch break this week.

I picked out a pair of jeans, mostly based on the color, and grabbed it in 3 different sizes.  After trying them on, I handed the 2 smaller ones to an enthusiastic fellow named Deon, and told him I was going to take the 3rd pair.

He glances at the label on what I’ve picked, grabs my wrist and says “Oh, no.  These are not for you.  I’m going to find you the right pair.”

You probably know that they’ve got this whole Curve ID thing going on now, where they’ve got 4 different styles of jeans made to fit different body types.  And by different, they mean differing waist to hip ratios.

Deon put his hands on my waist and made me lean from side to side, I think to assess my love handles.
And then he did some measuring business and scurried off to get more appropriate jeans.

He sent me into the dressing room to try several more pairs, insisting that I come out after each one for him to consider.

I was made to turn around so that he and a coworker girl could check out my lumpy rumpus.

I told him that I thought the skinny jeans accentuated my hips too much and he cried with glee “you shouldn’t try to hide your curves!  we should celebrate them!”

Oh, Deon.  Where on earth do you think I could hide all this?

But eventually, I had a pair that was deemed acceptable by all parties.

I think they look pretty much like the first pair that I had picked out myself.  Except that these were a waist size smaller, so that’s nice.

So, the Levi’s Curve ID thing?
They’re not the best. jeans. evar.  But they fit and I’m mostly sure my ass crack is covered.

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consuming the CSA box

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The box of vegetables that’s delivered to my door every other week is a daunting prospect of consumption when there are two eaters.  At the moment, I am 11 days in to a 25 day bout of life sans The David (who is somewhere between 15 and 17,000 feet up on Mount Acancagua in Argentina, and also probably not dead.)

So only one eater will be consuming:
4 humongous leeks
1 bunch of dinosaur kale
1 bunch of chard
1 bunch of collard greens
2 stems of broccoli
1 romanesco (that’s the neato spirally one)
1 green leaf lettuce
4 little endives
1 bunch of celery
A bag full of baby bok choy

I read once that fats are an important part of our diet, not only because we need them for proper very scientific functioning, but also because they make things like vegetables taste good and us more likely to eat them.
Exactly right, sez I.
So most likely, much of the leafy green things will get chopped and then sautéed up in a bit of bacon fat and then mixed up with the crunched up bacony bits.  But how many days of bacony greens are we talking here?  4?  5?
Yikes.
And the leeks?
Man.  I like leeks fine, but this is leekier than I feel the ordinary girl is expected to get.

If you’ve got any great recipes or cooking recommendations for this lot, please share!

Also, come over and eat some?

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happy valentine’s day

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*sent to me in 2008 by my magical friend, Alysha.  

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