Heron

Heron, originally uploaded by heathcseattle.

Sent from my mobile phone

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Tail

Tail, originally uploaded by heathcseattle.

Sent from my mobile phone

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Busy bee

Busy bee, originally uploaded by heathcseattle.

Sent from my mobile phone

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My walk along the river

My walk along the river, originally uploaded by heathcseattle.

I need to start bringing a camera with a zoom. Birdies of all kinds
are out in force today

Sent from my mobile phone

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Three random things

1) Jon Stewart totally rocked on the Daily Show tonight. I burned an extra 75 calories on the elliptical and some immeasurable amount more laughing my ass off.

2) Tim has been taking Rivers for a walk every morning for the past 5 days. 2 miles. While I'm so very proud of him, I'm also insanely jealous. Not of Rivers. Of Tim. I wish I could walk outside for two miles every day. In the morning when I have the energy too. I'm tired of the 8pm elliptical routine.

3) Listening to NPR in my car on the drive home as I normally do, I caught a story about how the Tennessee Board of Dentistry unanimously approved a policy that limits the prescribing and dispensing of teeth whitening gels or pastes to licensed dentists, or licensed dental hygienists and registered dental assistants under the direct supervision of a licensed dentist. I guess in Tennessee there was quite a booming teeth whitening kiosk business. The argument that the Dentistry Board made against allowing unlicensed "practicioners" to administer teeth whitening gel to "patients" was that

"To ensure the safety of the public, the board ruled that only licensed dental professionals should be authorized to apply teeth whitening formulations to patients."

Now, I'm really pretty indifferent to the whole cosmetic industry, whether it be stuff you plaster on your face, have injected into your lips, have sucked out of your stomach, or have bleached into your roots or soaked into your skin. Whatever makes people feel good about themselves is just fine with me. I personally think the whole botox and collagen-injection thing is not for me. But I'd be lying if I haven't at least given a fleeting thought to stomach fat removal if/when we win the big lottery. And I do get my hair coloured every few months to hide those greys. And I've been known to indulge in facials and put on makeup for special occasions. And yes, I even got a chemically induced tan before our honeymoon trip to Italy (I'm normally so pale I glow in the dark. I just wanted to feel a bit more comfortable in my pasty skin :-) Those are things that make me feel good. Heck, I even did take a stab at whitening my teeth before my wedding (but the stuff tasted so awful, and left my gums hurting so much I ended up having to give it up. Didn't make much of a difference anyway, since my teeth are pretty white to begin with, what with my no caffeine rule :-)).

But the main argument that the dental board has made seems to be a little bit lacking and at least to me, I am quite sure the main concern is not about public safety, but about trying to preserve a revenue stream that has been quite profitable to the dental industry.

1) There are plenty of over the counter counter whitening products available. By the dental board's argument, shouldn't those be removed from shelves and made available only by prescription? And yet the policy quite clearly states that over the counter products are not affected.

2) They interviewed one of the board members on NPR and the argument that he made was that these products could in fact pose a hazard if applied to someone who has gum disease, or dental issues and that only a licensed dental professional would be able to diagnose and judge whether or not this would be a problem. That seems a little odd to me. By that same logic, shouldn't I only be able to get a facial from a licensed dermatologist? Because some of those products can cause real problems if you use them on sensitive skin, or if you have allergies to any of the ingredients, or even if you're just currently taking antibiotics. And yet I can walk into any spa and sign a piece of paper that says I have no known allergies and am not taking antibiotics, and enjoy a relaxing facial with products laden with alpha hydroxies and acids and skin peeling chemicals that could leave me blind, covered in a rash, steam or chemical burns, or worse. And the person performing the procedure most definitely does not have a medical degree with a specialization in dermatology. And I can have my nose pores prodded and pricked with medical-like instruments to squeeze out the dirt and pick up a bacterial infection, or at least suffer a minor nose bleed or stab wound in the process. Not to mention the damage I can do to myself with those over-the-counter products. Dangerous stuff.

You know you want a facial now, don't you.

3) The board member also argued that by wearing white lab coats they are creating an impression that they are licensed dental professionals and thus deceiving the public into a false sense of security. My hair colourist wears a white lab coat. Yet I've never assumed she holds a medical degree. My facial person does too. And that metal pore poking thingie she wields like a weapon looks pretty doctorish. And yet I've never thought she was anything more than a beauty school graduate. Albeit one who is very very good at what she does. I almost always fall asleep when I get a facial :-) Granted, if I were into botox or collagen injections I think I would prefer to have that done by someone with a license for performing minor medical procedures and who has some formal training of how that stuff works in your body.

Now, if these kiosk people were actually TELLING clients that they were licensed medical professionals, or hanging certificates or handing out business cards implying the same then I'd definitely think they might be trying to create a false impression. But otherwise they're not wearing or doing anything different than what I see employees of a spa wearing and doing.

And so, really, I think this is all about the money the dental industry is afraid they are losing because these people are offering more convenient and cheaper solutions.

And those are my three random things.

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Tension Free

I'm still fighting a head cold that came on fairly quickly, probably sped up by the 80 minute massage I had yesterday. I had sniffles when I went in for it but this morning I had a full blown cold, with throat gunk and phlegm and everything. Mmmm, mmm. Tasty.

But after deciding to take a sick day and staying under the covers all morning, and drinking my weight in Orange Mango Peach juice and downing several tablets of airborne with water when I wasn't drinking juice or peeing, I started to feel a bit better. So I headed out to buy more juice and get a bit of fresh air. I stopped at Barnes and Nobles on my way home to check out their fairytale section. No luck in that department but as I was leaving, I saw a box on the clearance table that piqued my interest. In it were two small, grapefruit sized rubber balls. Like miniature versions of those big exercise balls for pilates and pregnant women. The label said "The Miracle Ball!". A hole in the front had a caption next to it saying "Touch The Miracle Ball!" so I did. It felt squishy but firm, if that makes any sense. The box claimed it was the remedy for lower back tension and pain. Even an 80 minute massage has never been able to completely eliminate the tension in my lower back. It was on sale, so I thought "what the hell" and bought it.

I spent 30 minutes on the elliptical tonight followed by 30 minutes doing some of the basic exercises on these balls. The exercises are described in a little booklet that came in the box with the balls.

And after 30 minutes, I'm feeling amazingly better. And there is physical proof to boot, so I know it's not all in my mind. Normally when I lie down on the floor on my back with my legs straight out, the arch in my lower back is so high that Bobbin could practically crawl through it. Ok, I'm exaggerating a tad. But it's big. Much bigger than before I got pregnant, for sure although it's always been relatively arched. It's always been where I store my tension. Tonight was no different. But then after 30 minutes using these balls, when I finished and stretched out on the floor, the arch was much smaller. And the tension was gone! And I could stretch like I could 4 years ago, and I wasn't feeling any lower back pain!

I sound like an infomercial, I know. But it's true. I think I know where the inch went when I last measured in at my doctor's at 5'7" (an inch shorter than about 4 years ago). Into my lower back arch. I may just be able to get that inch back if I keep this up :)

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New Year, fresh start

1 hour exercised. 600 calories burned. Off to a fresh start with my exercise regimen. I have to say, having a nice room to exercise in definitely helps! :)

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Mommy's excercisin' tonight!

Mommy's excercisin' tonight!, originally uploaded by heathcseattle.

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Now I have NO excuse!

Now I have NO excuse!, originally uploaded by heathcseattle.

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New addiction

Ok - first of all, yay for me. Every single day during the thanksgiving holiday I did a 4-mile walk. Woohoo. It was awesome. I walked in the rain, mostly, but it still felt good. Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday. And accompanying me on my journeys was my new 3G iPhone. The 3G phone doesn't have a recessed earphone jack which means that I can ditch the extender that I had purchased so I could use my favourite earphones with my old iPhone, and instead am now able to plug my earphones directly into the iPhone jack. And this means that my music doesn't cut out on me with every third step. And so I've started listening to music on my iPhone again. And so I've started walking more. Not that I couldn't or didn't walk without listening to music. But it's nice every once in a while to have a bit of a distraction.

Ok - second of all, I just got back on the elliptical this evening for the first time in what's felt like forever but has actually been about a week. But this time, when I got on the elliptical I had my 3G iPhone with me. And on that 3G iPhone I've downloaded and installed "Tap Tap Revenge" - kind of an iPhone version of "Guitar Hero", and free to boot. Yes, I could have installed this on my original iPhone. Only now that I have a 3G network downloads are much MUCH faster, and so I've downloaded a LOT more stuff. A lot of stuff. And so the new thing for me to do is to veg in front of the TV playing games on my iPhone. Games like "Tap Tap Revenge". And downloading free apps. Tim and I sit there, we two, and try and be the one that finds the coolest free app and download it first. It's really quite sad, in a way. Or maybe "pathetic" is a more appropriate word.

Anyway... tonight on my elliptical instead of watching the Daily Show, or listening to music on my iPhone (which is what I had intended to do when I brought it downstairs with me), I started playing "tap tap revenge". Probably not the safest two things to do at the same time, and yes, I almost fell off my elliptical at one point (but I caught myself - and didn't miss a beat in the game either!) but the 30 minutes went by like *that*. In fact, it went by so fast that I kept ellipticalling well after the clock had run down. It was amazingly fun and distracting.

Man, I am totally the target market for the Wii Fit. It'd probably be safer too :-)

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Pushing the reset button

After a week long hiatus on the exercise front due primarily to a cough and head cold I just can't seem to shake, I managed to push the reset button and get my butt downstairs for an hour on the exercycle.

It's been a crappy week. Crappy at work. And cranky at home. Me, that is. Cranky. With Tim bearing the brunt of it and Bobbin getting some of the leftovers. Some of the crankiness is... well... expected, if you know what I mean, while some of it is just coming out of nowhere. I am not sure if the month of different generic antidepressants is partially to blame; not sure how long it takes for that stuff to kick back in. It also doesn't help that it is November in Seattle. Which means rain and dreary grey skies. Lots of rain. And I pulled something in my back late this afternoon, putting laundry in the dryer. I'm gettin' old.

All that combined - different meds; PMS; lack of exercise; head cold that won't go away; back that won't bend - doesn't make for great mental health.

But today I exercised. And then I took a shower. And I gave myself a facial. And I deep conditioned my hair. And I shaved my legs. And then I took a bubble bath. And then I warmed my jammies up in the dryer so they'd be all snuggly (Tim and I used to do this for Bobbin when she was a baby. Oh my god... did I just say "used to... when she was a baby"? Ugh. I guess I will find myself saying that a lot more from hereon out).

So Today is now DAY 1. Tomorrow I start a new week, and attempt anew to achieve my weekly exercise goals. Wish me luck. And sunshine.

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Some of these brands are not like the others.

Some of these brands are only kinda the same.
Can you guess which brands are not like the others?
Now it's time to play our game.
It's time to play our game.

Yeah. Not a fun game to play when it involves your antidepressant medication.

So I've had a rough few weeks. 4 weeks. Month. I've had a rough month. I racked my brain for some time trying to think of why it's been rough. Things have been going well. Bobbin is enjoying school. Tantrums have significantly decreased. Work is challenging but good. Tim isn't snoring as much so I'm getting more sleep :-)

By week 3, I had a hypothesis. When I went to get my new prescription filled at the beginning of the month, I went to a different drug store than I usually do. And that drug store had a different generic substitute for my prescription than my regular drug store. I could tell because the pills were a different shape and colour. But the actual medicine and dosage was the same. I even looked it up online to be sure.

But after 3 weeks I wasn't feeling the same. So I wondered, with all other factors in my life being fairly consistent, is it possible, not all generics are created equal? And the answer is, in the United states, yes. Yes it is possible that not all generics are exactly the same.

I asked my doctor today and he confirmed my suspicions. The FDA allows for a fair bit of variance. There's no way for him to confirm with certainty that the 2nd brand I was using was any less effective than the first; it could be I was just having a challenging month. But given what I described I had experienced, and given that when I went back to the 1st brand and after a week started slowly feeling like I was getting back to normal, it was a strong possibility that the 2nd brand was not equivalent in level of meds.

So how is bioequivalence defined by the FDA? According to Wikipedia,

The United States Food and Drug Administration (FDA) has defined bioequivalence as, "the absence of a significant difference in the rate and extent to which the active ingredient or active moiety in pharmaceutical equivalents or pharmaceutical alternatives becomes available at the site of drug action when administered at the same molar dose under similar conditions in an appropriately designed study.

The FDA considers two products bioequivalent if the 90% CI of the relative mean Cmax, AUC(0-t) and AUC(0-∞) of the test (e.g. generic formulation) to reference (e.g. innovator brand formulation) should be within 80.00% to 125.00% in the fasting state. Although there are a few exceptions, generally a bioequivalent comparison of Test to Reference formulations also requires administration after an appropriate meal at a specified time before taking the drug, a so-called "fed" or "food-effect" study. A food-effect study requires the same statistical evaluation as the fasting study, described above.

Roughly translated to English, what this means is that two products are considered sufficiently equivalent if the average concentration found in the blood of the majority the test subjects who received the generic formulation is within 80% - 125% of the brand formulation in both fasting and fed studies. This means that in the extreme case I could take generic brand X and be absorbing as much 125% of what I would have absorbed if I had taken the same dose as the name brand. And then take generic brand Y and be absorbing only 80% of what I would have absorbed if I had taken the name brand. Another way to look at it, is that a generic pill that is supposed to be 100mg in strength could potentially contain as much as 125mg of the formulation, all of which is absorbed by some number of test subjects, or might contain 100mg of medicine but only 80mg of that gets absorbed by some number of test subjects. That's a difference of 45mg. Ok - it's not quite that straight forward but I failed first year statistics and barely passed the second time I took it, however the point is the same: there can actually be a fairly wide variation in formulations between different generic brands of the same drug; from each other as well as from the name brand.

In the US, however, some insurance policies won't cover the full cost of the name brand, or even cover a portion of the cost. And when you walk into a drug store, you don't know unless you ask, what generic brand they will use to fill the prescription. Or unless you spend an hour sifting through photos and descriptions of the pill shape & imprint online to identify the manufacturer after you get the drug home. But when you do find out that you've reacted differently to a particular generic brand your doctor can write you a perscription either requiring no substitute from the name brand, or explicitly excluding specific generic brands from being used. So that's what's gonna happen next time for me :-)

And the lesson - don't assume all generics are exactly equal. And if you have switched generics, or switched from brand to generic and you notice a difference in how it is affecting you, definitely let your doctor know.

Footnotes for those interested, and/or those who passed statistics the first time around:

In statistics, a confidence interval (CI) is an interval estimate of a population parameter. Instead of estimating the parameter by a single value, an interval likely to include the parameter is given. Thus, confidence intervals are used to indicate the reliability of an estimate. How likely the interval is to contain the parameter is determined by the confidence level or confidence coefficient. Increasing the desired confidence level will widen the confidence interval.

For example, a CI can be used to describe how reliable survey results are. In a poll of election voting-intentions, the result might be that 40% of respondents intend to vote for a certain party. A 95% confidence interval for the proportion in the whole population having the same intention on the survey date might be 36% to 44%. All other things being equal, a survey result with a small CI is more reliable than a result with a large CI and one of the main things controlling this width in the case of population surveys is the size of the sample questioned. Confidence intervals and interval estimates more generally have applications across the whole range of quantitative studies.

In the above, the 95% associated with the confidence interval is called the confidence level of the interval: this is defined formally below.

Occasionally, blood concentration levels are neither feasible or possible to compare the two products (e.g. inhaled corticosteroids), then pharmacodynamic endpoints rather than pharmacokinetic endpoints (see below) are used for comparison. For a pharmacokinetic comparison, the plasma concentration data are used to assess key pharmacokinetic parameters such as area under the curve (AUC), peak concentration (Cmax), time to peak concentration (Tmax), and absorption lag time (tlag). Testing should be conducted at several different doses, especially when the drug displays non-linear pharmacokinetics.

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Looking forward

Bobbin's favourite question as I'm putting her to bed at night is "Momma, what we gonna do after dis sleep?". Of course, if it's a school night, the answer is "School" but we already know about all the cool things happening at school all day for the whole week, thanks to her teacher's regularly weekly emails that list out the full week's lesson plan. Have I mentioned how much I love this new school? So we're able to get jazzed about all the fun things she's going to do at school, which eliminates (most times) the protests of going to school. And now, when we get there, she runs full speed down the walkway ahead of me, to go find her friends and start playing. I had to ask for a kiss and a hug and no sooner than it was issued, she was back with her friends, back turned to me.

VICTORY!!!! She turned and glanced back as I was leaving, but I had put my arms back down and wiped the look of scary happiness off my face and just smied, waved, and called "I love you sweetie! See you after school!"

Tim went to pick her up and she didn't want to leave.

I'd say we're over the transition badness.

12 hours of sleep last night - she slept from 7:40 - 7:30. Would have slept longer had I not awakened her. She was happy when she got up though. No protests

She's been coming home with this knowledge and these ideas /that have not come from Tim or I. I know a lot of songs, but I had not heard "Doggy Doggy where's your bone? Someone took it from your home! Guess who? It might be me or you or you!" or how about

There are Seven Days
There are Seven Days
There are Seven Days in the week
Sunday Monday
Tuesday Wednesday
Thursday Friday
Saturday

Ah yes, and there is also

Pumpkin, pumpkin, I've been thinking
You're the finest one I've seen
Soon to be a jack-o-lantern
All lit up for Halloween

And she's recognizing numbers - the number 4 in particular (there have been several recent birthdays in the class of kids who are turning 4). And there must be someone in her new class who likes Batman because she's been into watching superhero movies, and pretending she's batgirl on her swing and calling me BatMommy ,and Tim BatDaddy. It's pretty comical.

I'm barely making it through my exercise goals. Haven't failed, but just squeaking by. And it's just been a generally rough 3 weeks or so, but I think I'm getting back on track. Looking forward to taking some copious time off in December.

A good day. Are we coming out of it?

Today was a good day. Well, it was a good day after I dropped her off at school. It was a good day when we first got up. It was not so good between the time I made her breakfast and informed her today was a school day in response to her "what we gonna do today?" question that she asks every morning, and the time I actually managed to get her belted into the car for the ride to school.

BUT... once there, there weren't too many tears when we said goodbye. I had a good conversation 1:1 with the director before leaving to learn more about what Bobbin's doing when I'm not there and it was positive and insightful. She's doing great, bottom line. She's not so keen on making new friends. We think she might think that by doing so she'd be disloyal to her old friends. Oh man, if there's one thing that I CANNOT relate to its the concept of disloyalty to old friends. I didn't make friends easily as a kid either, but I always had a few where ever we lived. it would have been ten times worse, moving around as frequently as I did, if I maintained some sense of loyalty to my old friends that dictated that I couldn't make new ones. But I digress. I guess she's polite and not aggressive; she just shuns any attempts to get her to play with them. Although there are two little girls whose names she mentions frequently at home with great enthusiasm. She has professed her love about one. And there is a little boy that she has fun with. He's a bit of a troublemaker from what I can tell. Not bad; just likes to push the limits. So we might try and arrange some outside-of-school playdates.

She was great at school - happy, participating, friendly, listening. And there were no meltdowns after school. Or even after Tim got her home. Or even while dinner was cooking. Or even whlie we were eating. Or even while we were playing. Or even while we were getting ready for jammies. Or even while we were being tucked in. It was like the Bobbin that we know and love was BACK, and the little devil that had been possessing her for the last 4 weeks is gone. Knock on wood. We'll see if we can repeat the same tomorrow. Maybe even avoid the morning meltdown.

I have been exercising; made my goal last week with a walk on Saturday, and started off this week with 60 minutes Sunday and again this evening. It's just getting boring to write about, and I imagine even more boring to read about so I haven't been posting it every day. But it's happening!

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3 in a row

I did it. I've done my 3 60 minute workouts for this week. Sunday, Monday, and tonight. Woohoo. And my cold is almost gone. A record for me; normally I'm miserable for a couple of weeks. I've blown this off in 7 days.

I have to admit to having indulged in some sweets the past few days. Chocolate just makes me feel better. I know. I know. I know already. So I likely haven't added to my weight loss. But I am positive I haven't gained. And tomorrow is a new day. I'll get back on track with my eating habits. You know how I know? Because i've just told the Internet that I would.

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Back on the elliptical; time for new goals

Back 0n the elliptical today despite my still being at about 50% from whatever bug I've got now. It's the "New School Year" bug. Because I started getting sick exactly 5 days after Bobbin started going to her new Big Girl Preschool.

But tonight I did it - got back on. 60 minutes on the elliptical, while watching "The Cleaner" with Benjamin Bratt. It's cheese. But it does the job. And is better than the alternatives on Sundays at 8. That meant that I was finished and able to do my stretching to Desperate Housewives. Yay!

So I was in week 11 when the bug hit me and I fell off track on the exercise routine. And so now I need to not only get back on but beat my 11 week streak by at least a week before missing a weekly goal. Week 22 just happens to be my Birthday. And it's on a SATURDAY. Which means... I get to exercise at ANY TIME I WANT on a saturday AND have y'all over to PARTY afterwards to boot. Umm... if that's, like, cool with you, Tim? ;-)

11 weeks until my birthday. Sweet! If I assume I haven't lost any ground, and I continue at the same snails pace that I'm on right now, then I should be weighing 11 lbs lighter than I am right now which puts me 4 lbs shy from the size I was when I went to try on Bridesmaid's dresses for my sister's wedding when she was last here. Which was December 2006, I believe. On one hand, I looked better then than I do now. On the other hand, I thought I looked bad then too, and I felt worse about myself then that I do now. I wasn't working out. I was on a leave of absence for depression. I was seeing a pyschologist. And oh look just how great that therapy worked out! Although it's the same meds, there are some diferences now: different therapist; different primary care physician, different age child; more experience as a mom; I haven't driven Tim insane or to drink or to leave me. All these things bode well for me.

So - cheer me on. I'm back on it. I did 60 minutes tonight. I can do it. I'm tough. I ran a frickin' MARATHON once, you know. From start to finish in 5 hours and 23 minutes. 60 minutes a night is nothing.

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Week 11 is a dud

I managed two workouts this week - 60 minutes on monday and 60 minutes on tuesday - before falling hard to the first cold of the season. No workout wednesday, thursday, friday, or today. My nose is a faucet. My eyes are dry. My head has been pounding all day. Yesterday late afternoon I was actually thinking I was over the worst of it; feeling pretty good; had energy; wasn't as sniffly; even went to friday night because I felt like the fog was lifting. Then woke up this morning feeling like someone had hit me with a truck.

I'm going to exercise tomorrow come hell or high water. I'm starting to feel like a sloth. A sick, snotty, sloth. With phlegm.

I will not let it all end at 11 weeks. The 10 lbs I have lost, the 1 1/2 inches around my waist. They will not come back. This cold will not be the end of my reinvigorated exercise regimen.

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Begin Anew

New car today. Tim's car. Audi is gone. We got $4K for it towards the new car. The entire time, from haggling down to paper signing took 3 hours. But we got the price we wanted. We won!

Picture day at school today. Bobbin dressed up, and yelled, or so she told me, "COOKIEMONSTER" when the photographer asked her to smile for the camera.

No surprise that I start out the new cold season with a cold. Icky. I didn't do my 60 minutes today as I had hoped. Didn't even do my 30. This could be the first week in 11 weeks that I miss my goal. But I'm sicker than a dog.

Grey's Anatomy is on. Season Premiere.

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Two More Days; two more hurdles

I ended up taking Friday, Saturday, and Sunday off last week, but still hit my goal with three 60 minute workouts and two 30 minute workouts. After the three days off, getting on the elliptical Monday was euphoric. I burned through my workout in no time while watching the lead-in to the Heroes season premiere :-). I wasn't sure I was going to actually get a chance. Tim had to work late, so I was the tucker-inner. And given the way she's been lately at bedtime, I was sure that I wasn't going to get in my exercise. But into bed she went without a fuss, and was asleep within minutes. I was downstairs by 8:15pm and worked out completely uninterrupted for the full hour. And I got to adjust down my weight by 5 lbs on the little computer screen. I just love that ;-)

Yesterday was another 60 minute day, despite PMS and a migraine. Today however, was not. I'm coming down with a cold; coughing, runny nose, aches. Blech. Hopefully it's short lived. I can still make my goal. 60 minutes tomorrow and 30 on friday and saturday and I'll have it. It's gonna be tight though.

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Week 10 results

Week 10 results are in. Since August 16th, my week 5 checkpoint, I have lost an additional 1/2 inch around my waist and another 5 lbs, for a grand total of 1 1/2 inches around my waist and 10 lbs since the beginning of my renewed exercise regimen 10 weeks ago. I've also dropped one pant/dress size in the process.

I still struggle with how "slow" the weight is coming off. Yes, I know I'm losing at a healthy, sustainable pace. Yes, I know that waist & pant size is a healthier number to focus on. I know these things. I still want to reach my targets yesterday. But I'm keeping it up.

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They're back! And not a moment too soon

Did my 60 minutes today to The Daily Show and Colbert Report. Ah, how I missed Jon and Steven. The time flew by tonight and I worked up a great sweat. I'm ready for tomorrow.

Tomorrow is Bobbin's first day at "Big Girl Preschool". I bought her a new sparkly Cinderella Princess Backpack to commemorate the occasion. I filled it with a new set of markers (her old ones were used up, dried out, or both), a new doodle pad, and some new pastel crayons. All of which, backpack included, were in the clearance aisle at Target. I love the "after back to school" sales :-)

She's apprehensive. Understandably so. She alternates between wanting to go to her "wegular class" and wanting to go to "big girl preschool" from minute to minute. The backpack was a hit though.

She's getting so big so fast. We were in Fred Meyer the other day, perusing the toy aisles while I waited for my prescription to be filled, when Bobbin saw the bicycle rack from a distance and made a beeline over to a 12" pink, tasselled, bike with training wheels. A real honest-to-goodness big girl bike, with bicycle chain and backpedal brakes. I took it off the shelf to let her check it out. She climbed on and put her feet on the pedals. And proceeded to ride all the way down to the end of the aisle. The backpedal braking motion kinda threw her for a loop, but she eventually got it.

A big girl bike. Is it possible? She's only just turned 3. We did add it to the top of the Santa list though. But it has to be pink.

She's also started creating a distinction in her mind of "girl things" and "boy things". I'm not sure where this comes from. She has lots of what some might think of as "boy" things that she loves to play with - her Elmo toolbench; her Thomas the Train set; her collection of matchbox cars and trucks; her airplanes. And her imagination has her traveling to the moon, playing a running back in football, and driving dump trucks on a regular basis. Of course, she'll often do so while dressed in a sparkly pink dress and sporting a tiara and some of my lipstick. But there's no rule that states a princess can't be a back hoe operator or linebacker or vice versa. Ok, maybe for the time being it's best to remain a closet princess if you're a linebacker :-)

Anyway, we were flipping through the latest fisher-price catalog this evening. The first section, with the Little People stuff, she did not identify as being associated with a particular gender. Next came the jeeps and cars and trucks. Of course, all of the photos showed little boys playing with these toys. Bobbin pointed and said "this is the boy section". I replied with "Well, there are boys in the pictures, but girls play with these toys too" and reminded her that she loved playing with her cars and with her trains. The pages after this were pink and filled with dolls and frills and pretend cookware and princess costumes and dress up jewelry. Bobbin pointed and said, authoritatively, "these things are just for girls". I asked her if she saw boys playing with baby dolls at school, or pretended to cook in the play kitchen and dress up in the play clothes and she said yes. So I pointed out that even though these pictures only had girls in them, boys could still play with all these toys too. And aren't Daddy and Grandpa Jerry two of the best cooks you know? I decided it best to not get into the stereotyped interpretations that many would make upon seeing a little boy in a princess dress and rhinestone earrings carrying a pink silk purse :-). And granted, the boys at school are often throwing the baby dolls against the wall or banging the toy frying pans on the bookcase when they're playing. But all of that's neither here nor there.

Still, it's interesting to see that she's picking up on some of the stereotypes that remain common in advertising.

Tomorrow should be interesting. I have no idea how this is going to go. I'm mentally prepared for anything. I hope that her natural curiosity takes over as soon as we enter the classroom. I know that she'll spend the first little while observing quietly and taking it all in. We'll see what happens after that :-)

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Trash TV. There's nothing like it for burning calories

Nothing on tv tonight. Not even my old standby, Dr. Phil. And so I found myself working out on the elliptical to "Paris Hilton's BFF Casting Call". All I can say is

Wow.

It was just one of those cases where it was just so bad it sucked you in and you didn't realize how much time had passed. That was 60 minutes I'll never get back.

The actual series premieres... uh... sometime, on some channel. Thanks, but no thanks. But I did burn over 600 calories this evening just out of sheer perplexity that any human being would willingly, let alone enthusiastically, subject themselves to this experience.

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Bracing for the storm

4 days of 60 consecutive minutes of aerobic workout, 2 days of 30 consecutive minute workouts. Technically I've exceeded my weekly goal of 3 60s and 2 30s and I'm only 5 days into the week! I'm gonna need the extra credit.. next week's gonna be a bitch.

Tim and I made a very very very hard decision today to enroll Bobbin in a new preschool. Her current daycare, as I've mentioned previously, served us well for 3 years but over the course of the summer a lot of changes happened and despite us trying to work with them on getting to some common ground, it just wasn't on a path to getting resolved to our satisfaction. And so we began a search for new options this week, and wham bam, in the informed yet decisive way that is mine, we have analyzed the results, assessed the risks, and made a decision.

Bobbin's last day at her current daycare will be Monday. We started talking with her about it today, and will spend time talking with her about it in depth tomorrow, Saturday, Sunday and Monday. We'll write cards to the teachers to say thank you and goodbye. We''ll write notes to the parents of her friends with our contact info so we can hopefully get the kids together semi-regularly since she's been with many of them for 3 years now.

Tim and I are sure we have made the right choice. The teacher and classroom consistency is what we are looking for, the teachers are highly qualified and from what I've seen from my visits there, are highly interactive and clearly care about the children. Three different parent reference checks came back with glowing feedback, as well as some concrete things that they'd like to see the school do better but none of those things are deal-breakers. Overall I think it is a much more stable and consistent and dependable environment than the one she is in currently.

I took Bobbin there today on the way home from her other school. We talked about where I was taking her. We arrived and she marched up the steps like she owned it, and started looking around the room as I talked with the director. Actively looking. Touching. I was surprised. Then I told her we could go check out the playground and the forest and that was all she needed to hear. We were there for about an hour; the buildings had all closed but the director said we can use the outdoor grounds any time - weekends, etc - now that she's enrolled. We'll take her up on that this weekend. Get Bobbin feeling familiar with the space.

To accomodate the transition I'm taking Tuesday morning off, and we'll spend a half-day at her new school together and then come home for the rest of the day, during which I'll attempt to work from home. On Wednesday Tim will take her to the new school and they'll spend a half day there together and then come home for the rest of the day while I work all day. Thursday and Friday I'll spend all day with Bobbin at her new school hangin'. Saturday and Sunday we'll go play there together. Monday I'll spend half a day there with her and then hopefully, leave her there on her own and happy the rest of the day.

That's the plan. It's complicated. And while I wouldn't have done anything different, I do feel guilty about the two mornings I've taken off from work this week to tour daycare centers and interview daycare directors. Tim's had to do the same. And now I'm taking 2 and a half days off next week and a half day off the following week.

Next week, I predict that my wednesday blog entry will be filled with regrets and self doubts about whether we did the right thing for Bobbin; whether I'm meeting my responsibilities at work; etc. etc.

And so the vicious cycle continues.

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Yes, yes, I'm afraid I did.

Daily Show was a repeat, so tonight's hour long session on the elliptical was completed watching... wait for it... the series premiere of the new 90210.

The story lines are just as vapid as the ones in the original series; perhaps even moreso. The characters just as shallow and token. I learned some new teen lingo... "sick" is apparently synonymous with the old '80's "awesome". Sick. Dude.

But I got my 60 minutes done (which makes 2 days in a row; although yesterday's show was the season premiere of Dr. Phil). And not a moment too soon, because the next show on "The CW" was the series premiere of "Privileged". I'm proud to say I missed that one.

Oh, and "The CW" is definitely one channel that is going on the parental controls block list.

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Balancing Act

I made my goal again last week with 60 minutes on the elliptical yesterday evening. Started off this week with a 4 mile walk today and topped it off this evening with 30 minutes on the elliptical. I weigh myself next Sunday.

Bobbin had no nap today. Woke up at 6:45pm and went to bed at 8:15pm. You'd never have known it. No implosions, even when I left for my walk, or when we were over at our friends' house this afternoon and evening. She was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow though.

Yesterday, however, was The Big Event: Bobbin's BFF from school turned 3 years old. Bobbin has been eagerly anticipating this birthday party for 3 weeks - ever since he handed her an invitation at school. She had her dress picked out the day before - white with green and pink embroidery and a little pink eyelet petticoat underneath. Same one that she wore to her own birthday party. As we walked up the steps to his front door she stopped, swished her dress, and said with a smile, "[BFF] is really going to like this dress". Oooh boy :-) She had a total blast at the party and so did BFF. I managed to capture a few moments with the camera.

Her imagination is really blossoming these days as well. Her climber outside frequently turns into a castle, a hospital, a fire station, and a sailboat among other things. Her favourite is to slide down the slide with her fire fighter's hat on and yelling "WOOOO ooooo OOOO oooo" to rescue Kitty, whom she has tossed off the top of the climber. Once rescued she hauls him back up to the top of the climber which has become a hospital, and gives Kitty CPR and gets him breathing again and checks his heart. I caught her in the act a few days ago and took this series of photos

Finally, I leave you with Bobbin's latest passion: Balancing. She doesn't realize it, but she has a lot in common with her Mommy that way. Metaphorically speaking, of course :-) She starts Gymnastics next saturday. We decided to give Soccer a bit of a break for a while so it doesn't become old; she was starting to have a harder and harder time staying enthused for the whole class. So next week she starts the "Mini Munckins" gymnastics class for 3-4 1/2 year olds. "Girls and boys will learn gymnastics concepts through movement exploration. Concepts will include body, space, and motion awareness, as well as developing social skills and creativity. Balance, strength, coordination, and self-confidence is enhanced through manipulative and non-manipulative gymnastic drills." is the blurb on their web site. We'll see what she thinks. Right now she's pretty excited at the concept that there's a whole class whose main purpose is to let her jump and tumble and hang and balance. We'll see how she fares in a more organized setting (as opposed to the free-for-all at the local playground :-)). If she doesn't like it, we'll go back to soccer; try and find out which class BFF is in if he still goes. Or we'll just continue our morning saturday routine of hitting the playgrounds at 8:30am (bring a towel if you go that early. two towels if it's a big climber :-))

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The grind continues...

60 minutes yesterday on the elliptical as I enjoyed the Daily Show and Colbert Report and another 30 today, before Bobbin exploded in her room, refusing to get her jammies on.

It's been a chore though this week, forcing myself down to step on the elliptical. Harder than usual. Maybe I need to give myself a break. But a part of me actually craves the workout even while the rest of me just wants to veg on the couch and eat chocolate.

I'm still going strong on the cookie-free front. I've been pretty good about increased consumption of fruit and vegetables. By vegetables, I mean baby carrots. But that's better than nothing, right?! :-)

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A load off my chest

A week ago, I made a vague reference to an unspecified problem that had caused me to miss my workout on Tuesday. Well, I'm happy to report that the unspecified problem turned out to not be a problem at all, and with a sigh of relief I'm able to actually talk about it now.

Last Tuesday after work I drove myself to the ER to get my shortness of breath checked out, given that I'd been experiencing at that point for 3 days straight. They did a series of tests from bloodwork to an EKG to a CT scan to eliminate any possibility that I was experiencing a clot or fluids in my lungs, an enlarged heart, a collapsed lung, an irregular heart beat or any of the other medical stuff that can lead one to experience shortness of breath. All the tests came back negative for any sort of problem that would cause my shortness of breath. I have great blood pressure, I have an excellent pulse (that is in fact slightly lower than average, more than one medical professional commented to me). I have a strong and regular heart beat, and I have healthy happy lungs. The ER doctor and my therapist both think that the shortness of breath may have been anxiety related. It was a stressful week for me on many levels. And the problem appears to have resolved itself; I've not experienced it again since the ER trip which is great.

However there was something they did find that was unrelated. The CT scan detected a 14 mm nodule under my left breast and the ER doctor referred me for a diagnostic mammogram. My first ever mammogram. Because I'm still more than 2 years shy of my 40th birthday.

I was very very scared and broke down into tears in the ER when he told me. He also told me that 95% of the time this turns out to be just a normal, benign thing. As we age we get "lumpy". He said that in the very rare chance that it was not benign the fact that it was caught at such an early stage before any other symptoms presented meant that it was highly likely to be resolved by whatever appropriate treatment was required. All the same, I was worried. I got up the next morning and scheduled the mammogram. And this morning I went in to have it done.

I have to say, of all medical procedures that I've endured this was the least pleasant. I got through it only by reminding myself constantly that by doing this, I was potentially saving my life. I say with all seriousness that I would rather get a pap smear than a mammogram any day. While I enjoy neither and find both to be physically uncomfortable, for a variety of reasons, for me, getting my upper half checked is just much more emotionally and psychologically uncomfortable than getting my lower half checked. The technician who was assigned to me, however, gets my undying gratitude. I'm sure she recognized my angst by my tightly clenched arms around my chest, and my iron-fisted grip on the ends of the cape that they gave me to cover myself. And the tears rolling silently down my face as she adjusted both me and the machine to get us positioned correctly were the dead give away. But she was the utmost professional, and treated me with great gentleness, respect and dignity. She didn't comment on my tears or my posture. She didn't utter any reassurances. She didn't try to "lighten the mood" or get me to ease up. She just kindly and gently went about doing what she does and rewarded me with "great job" after each picture was taken. And before sending me back out to the room to await the radiologist's diagnosis and/or request for additional pictures she gave me a big, fluffy, full-length white bathrobe to put on over my cape and I instantly felt more relaxed and comfortable. None of the other women waiting got a robe, and they were all there as long as I was. I don't know what her name was, but I really really appreciate what she did.

I ended up getting 2 rounds of pictures (6 pictures total), the radiologist wanting a couple more after seeing the first four. But finally, after what seemed like several hours but was in reality only 1 and a half hours total including wait time, I was finished and they were ready with my results. The nodule was benign. Nothing to be concerned about. No additional tests needed. And they said they don't need to see me again until age 40.

I've been smiling and practically skipping down the halls at work all day. I'm so very grateful it wasn't more serious. I know the odds were with me - we have no history of breast cancer in our family, and I don't have any of the other factors that are associated with a higher risk of the disease, but was still so relieved to get the official diagnosis that everything was ok.

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5 years worth celebrating!

Yesterday, Saturday August 30th, as many of you are aware, was Tim and my 5 year anniversary :-) And it just keeps getting better and better every year :-). I managed to squeeze an hour walk in during Bobbin's nap, which I'm glad I did because we went to Yarrow Bay Grill and had an absolutely heavenly dinner with perfect wine and scrumptious dessert. So I'm glad I did a little extra during the day in anticipation :-)

Getting out of the house was the only downer of the evening. We had Miss B over to babysit Bobbin. Miss B is also a teacher at Bobbin's school and Bobbin really likes her. Except when she's here because Mommy and Daddy are going out without her. I don't even have the energy to replay the scenario here for you; it was too long, too emotional, too mentally and emotionally and at times physically hard. But we got out even as I was running over rocks in my silk stocking-d feet since my heels don't do well on our gravel path. Oh - yeah - worth mentioning: I wore a SKIRT and a NICE BLOUSE and even some JEWELRY on my EARS AND around my NECK. and MAKEUP.

Bobbin had her fair share of makeup on when we left too, from her beauty session with Mommy. She's convinced she needs to "keep me company" no matter what I'm doing. Most of the time I enjoy it. But there is one thing that I like to do in the bathroom alone with no audience. Actually two. And you think you know which two that is, don't you. Alas most of you would be wrong. I had long ago given up on peeing and pooping in private and much to Tim's chagrin I even find myself leaving the door open by habit for all passersby to see even when Bobbin hasn't accompanied me. What are you gonna do. But what I have not yet caved on is that Mommy gets to have Showers and Baths in private. No watching.

That set her off for quite some time. Tim had to close the gate to the back part of the house to ensure she couldn't get back there. I locked the bathroom door too just in case she figured out how to climb over. I got peace, for the most part, outside, but there was little peace inside as I stood in my shoiwer trying to calculate the minimum minutes I needed to wash and deep condition my hair, exfoliate my face and then give it a moisture mask while shaving my under arms and legs and then rinsing all the head and face gunk off, putting on loition, spraying in volume stuff, doing my makeup and trying on the 3 new bras I bought at the shopping store but not knowing which one fit me because I didn't want to try them on at the store.

I let her in after I was out of the shower and robed. And she went straight for the makeup drawer. "What's this for?" and I would tell her it's cheek blush. And she'd brush some on her cheeks and forehead. "And this?" that was eyeshadow; when she learned how it was applied she preferred instead to apply it to her temples and forehead. Lipgloss was easy - she's used it before. My little princess, Into the girly girl stuff. Well... so far only when I'm into it (which is apparently once every 6 months or so).

When we left it just plain sucked. But by 7:40pm she was eating icecream and watching nemo. If those two things were happening I had a pretty high degree of confidence that she was ok and if she wasn't ok on the inside, then she was filling her insides with things that she loves to compensate for it (ugh really need to learn how to finish a thought and move on).

When we got home she was out like a light. We had promised we'd wake her. we both gave it our best shot but she was not to be woken. She stirred a little and might have mumbled something but for the most part, immovable. unreachable. So we kissed her and hugged her and went to bed.

Completely unrelated note; just doesn't warrant its own post: With yesterdays 1 hour walk on the trail I met my goal! barely but met it. Today I started off a new week with a full 60 minutes on the elliptical watching Point Break (or is it Break Point?)... the surfer movie with Keanu Reeves and Patrick Swayze. It's a fine exercise movie. Can't imagine it's good for much else though.

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2 down; 1 to go

I managed to leave work a tad early this afternoon to fit in an hour of walking before picking up Bobbin and heading over to our Friday night festivities. There was one catch: I had forgotten to toss my running shoes in the car this morning so I ended up walking for an hour in my work shoes. There will be blisters tomorrow. But I have thick socks to get me through it. This makes for 3 30+ minute workouts and 2 60-minute workouts this week, with one more 60-minute to go, and one day left in the week: Saturday. I can do this.

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One down, two to go; and hell hath no fury like an injured preschooler

Despite all odds and the deck stacked against me I did it. It wasn't easy. It wasn't pretty. But it was 60 minutes.

Yesterday Bobbin fell on the concrete at school and scraped both knees bloody. It happened when Tim went to pick her up. She was in her mischevious mood - her "My teacher is about to tell you how I didn't lay quietly at nap time and was kicking the bookcase and not listening to her words so I'm gonna run away so you can't start lecturing me" mood. As she was running, she tripped and fell. That's when all hell broke loose, and it has been running rampant in our house ever since.

She refuses to let us put band aids on her to help protect and prevent anything from rubbing up against the scrape. We had to sneak in some squirts of Bactine and she screamed bloody murder the entire time; you would have thought we were torturing her, not administering loving care and pain-relieving spray. Tim and I both lost some major trust points with her for the stealth duck-and-cover bactine maneuver. There was no way we were getting a band aid on her after that. So we put her in short jammies and covered her upper body and her toes. Every time she moved though, the pain woke her up. By 11:00pm we had her in our bed between us. She slept a bit better, although woke up a couple more times in the early morning. Tim and I didn't sleep at all for fear of rolling onto her or rolling out of the bed onto the floor. I woke up this morning feeling like a meat hook was wedged between my shoulder blades and unable to turn my head to the left or lower my chin. It still feels that way now.

This morning she woke up in better spirits... until she tried moving her knees; the scabs that had formed overnight had stiffened her skin and the movement caused more pain. But once I got a pair of loose fitting, jersey knit long pants on her and she couldn't see her owies anymore, things got considerably better.

Still - I was not looking forward to another night of back wrenching semi-sleep nor was I looking forward to the hotter hell that awaited us should either or both wounds become re-opened or infected, so I formulated a plan.

The plan involved 6 different sizes and brands of "ouchless" band aids shaped especially for knees and elbows; some Johnson & Johnson foaming "no hurt" wound cleanser; a small stuffed toy lion; 4 new light-up floating bath frogs - each one a different colour; a squishy fish with bulging eyes filled with water; some new art supplies, and a Minnie Mouse Pez dispenser with 3 flavours of candy. I deposited them all in a colourful gift bag with a bow, and left it on her carseat when I went in to collect her from school. Bait had been set.

When she came out from school and I opened the door she saw the bag. I explained she could open it only after she had gotten ready for bath time and I moved the bag to the trunk. She peppered me with questions about the surprise in the bag all the way home. The bait had been taken. By 6:15 she was begging me for a bath and going potty and getting undressed without being asked.

I let her open the bag. She oohed and aahed over each item. But the Pez fascinated her. It was CANDY. And MINNIE MOUSE. She wanted one right away. But I told her she could only have the candy AFTER she had gotten into her jammies.

So we had her bath. She got a little upset as the water started to rise to her knees. I rinsed her clean and we got out of the tub. The next step was to get her underpants on and her jammie top. And then to convince her to let me put the foam on her and an ouchless band aid. The candy was to be the lure.

This is where the plan failed. 45 minutes of mind boggling, insane screaming ensued. She screamed herself hoarse and sobbed herself breathless. In the end, I let her choose between the bactine and the foam, and she went with the spray. But still refused to let me apply a band aid. We ended up getting them on her by having Tim apply the band aid while I held her on my knee holding her hands so she couldn't push him away. Do you have any idea how strong a 34 lb, 38" tall angry, thrashing, preschooler is? Then I had to get her jammie bottoms on. By this point she was quite literally hysterical. We brought out the candy. I ambushed her brain with stories of how when I was little I fell and scraped my knee so bad I cried for hours and Grandma Anne had to clean it and put a band aid on it and I was so sad and it hurt so much but then the band aid made it get better faster; and remember that time that Ella was at Zora's house and she was showing us her HUGE band aid on her elbow that was protecting her REALLY BIG scrape, and Ella's mommy had said when Ella had fallen she had cried and cried and cried so hard, just like Bobbin but the band aid made sure she wouldn't bump it and hurt it again and then it got better really fast. And then, as she was popping candy in her mouth and pondering Ella's elbow owie, I slid her jammies on, and she started screaming and punched me in the chest.

Eventually we calmed her down. Barack Obama's soaring voice of hope was washing over us as we sat in the living room, all three of us, exhausted and feeling really beat up. She was beyond tired. I stood up and carried her to bed and tucked her in with her little stuffed lion as confetti fell and fireworks flared in the Mile High stadium.

And then I went to work out.

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Exercise, interrupted

For reasons that I will get into at another time, I ended up not getting my workout in yesterday. Today's was just 45 minutes. I should have kept going tonight. Because now I have exactly 3 days left in the week and exactly 3 60 minute workouts that I need to complete in order to achieve my weekly goal. I have a conference call in 15 minutes (that's right, at 9pm). I have a hard time switching context between "work" and "family"; it's inefficient because it's not a perfect on/off switch. I prefer to get my work done in one consecutive lump sum so that I can switch to family and not have it in the back of my head that in X hours I have to switch back.

I'm not giving up yet. I do have 3 days; just enough to make my goal if I do 60 minutes each day. It may not be at the breakneck speeds and calorie-burning that last week's workouts were, but as long as I am moving for 60 consecutive minutes and elevating my heart rate even just a little bit, it still counts.

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40 minutes, and Michelle Speaks

I had fully intended to do a full hour of exercise tonight. It's the perfect opportunity. but the last two days I've been feeling kinda weird. Like when I breathe I don't get enough air into my lungs. It's really a lot like the feeling I had when I was 8-9 months pregnant and they told me it was Bobbin growing big enough now to be pushing my diaghram up into my lungs.

But when I take a breath, no matter how deep a breath, I can't get a sense of satisfaction and fullfillment that i've actually filled my entire lung capacity. It's like when you blow up a frog shaped pool and the legs at the end of the pool are the last to get filled because they're the last place the air flows into, and they're always a little squishy because you just don't want to stand there trying to force even distribution of the air through the frog so you let the feet stay a little floppy.

When I try and breathe deeply to fill my lungs I usually end up feeling like I've stopped short, and then invariably I yawn a huge wide mouthed , closed eyes, yawn (I just did one now just writing about this). It started yesterday just as I was laying down for a nap. I don't have any physical pain. I do have a dry mouth because it seems every time I want to fill my lungs or yawn I also want to swallow. It's like doing one connects to the other connects to the other.

I see my therapist on Wednesday; perhaps he has a logical explanation. Like a drug side effect.

My inability to satisfactorily fill my lungs apparently is not negatively impacting my ability to be longwinded (it's a gift) so to make a long story short I cut my exercise off after 40 minutes; shortly after Michelle Obama ended her speech.

Which I LOVED.

So on a plus note I powered through my 40 minutes on an emotional rollercoaster - I was half cheering and half crying with inspiration. Damn I wish I could vote.

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I deserve an honourable mention

I have no gold, silver or bronze to show for it but I did 30 minutes on the elliptical tonight which concluded 8 straight days of exercising and my 2nd successful week (actually, technically the start of my 3rd week) under my new weekly targets of at least 3 60 minute workouts and at least 2 30 minute workouts a week.

Sunday: 30 minutes elliptical
Monday: 60 minutes elliptical
Tuesday: 60 minutes elliptical
Wednesday: 30 minutes elliptical
Thursday: 60 minutes elliptical
Friday: 30 minutes elliptical
Saturday: 4 mile walk on the trail (= 70 minutes)
Sunday: 30 minutes elliptical.

I'm doing a bit better - not stunningly better - but a bit better at increasing my veggie & fruit intake. I am successfully downsizing the portions.

Still 2 weeks left to go before I check my weight and inches again.

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When I walk along the river...

I take a step, take a step, take another step. Thank you Laurie Berkner.

I got out of the house in the beautiful sun today and did one of my 4 mile walks on the trail. A perfect day for it if there ever was one, with a nice breeze.

At one point I passed a mom and child, each pushing themselves down the path on a scooter. The kid looked young and I had to ask how old he was. Just a month shy of his 3rd birthday was the answer. He was weaving and balancing on one foot like a pro on his scooter; impressive for anyone let alone a not-quite-3-year-old. But even more impressive were the size and definition of this kid's calves. They rivaled the calves of Lance Armstrong. I should ever have calves that are half as toned and defined. I said as much to his mom and she laughed and said that he's on the scooter every day rain or shine; she can't keep him inside, let alone off the scooter.

I'm thinking I need a scooter.

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30 minutes of Dr. Phil this evening was 30 minutes too much

It's friday. And there's no friday festivities this week, so I decided to work out this evening. I got off to a late start because the toilet in Bobbin's bathroom overflowed and that took a while for Tim and I to clean up. Bobbin thought it was great though, because it happened at precisely 7:45pm which is when we're usually sitting in the big chair reading a book in our PJs. But we were too distracted to herd her into her room to get changed and ready for bed, so she used the extra time up to tuck her animals to bed in the living room. Our living room floor looks like the overflow space for a hospital morgue; little tiny lumps under blankets littered randomly across the carpet.

I only did 30 minutes, having completed my 3 60 minute workouts earlier this week. I technically didn't need to work out at all because I've met my weekly exercise goal as of yesterday but what the heck; I am starting to feel like I need to do it, which is good.

The Dr. Phil show was the only thing on. And today it was "bikini body bootcamp" day. Just what I needed to be watching. I could have opted to turn the TV off and just listen to music but it was easier just to keep going and get it done. There was one nugget of worthwhileness in the show: the body-slimming bathing suit that was modelled. Of course the model wearing it was relatively small but I still think it looked like it might work for me. I'll have to do some research.

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Logic prevails

At 40 minutes into my workout this evening I was not into it. I was feeling fine physically. I was just unmotivated. But thankfully the logical (and lazy, self serving) part of my brain prevailed by arguing successfully to myself that if I was going to not go through with the full 60 minutes, then I should have stopped at 30 minutes. Because at this point i've invested 10 minutes more than the 30 that I won't get back, and I will still have to do 60 tomorrow or saturday to achieve my goal of 60 minutes 3x per week. So I can either a) Get through this and make my goal despite my apathy, b) stop like I want to but be on the hook for 60 minutes tomorrow, and have the extra 10 minutes I put in go to "waste" because my goals are to achieve 3 60 minute workouts and 2 30 minute workouts

Oh wait... yeah... I guess there is a c) which is instead of counting the extra 10 minutes as "wasted" I could count them as "exceeding goal" assuming I still do one more 60 minute workout as I have planned.

But that is not the way that even my logical part of my brain works (you should see the illogical part; it's a real mess).

In the end - I finished my 60 minutes. I don't like to waste things. Especially my own time and energy. So it turns out my pessimistic but logical side found the right compelling argument to give to my emotional illogical side. See - I knew what I was doing all along.

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It does count

Ah... Wednesdays. Extended Wednesdays. How I love thee... not. The Wednesday hurdle reared its ugly head again, and with it came the "it's too late to exercise" hurdle. I didn't get home until 7:30pm, which is when I would normally start getting Bobbin ready for bed. But I wasn't ready to do that; we needed time to play and cuddle and tell each other about our day. As a result, it was 8:30pm before I was able to get downstairs to exercise, and the temptation to say "well, it's too late now" was pretty great. But I did it. I decided to do just a 30 minute workout as a result of the late start, and so the "why bother?" hurdle rose as I was heading down the stairs. But I reminded myself that I was still within my new targets: 60 minutes 3 times a week and 30 minutes 2 times a week. I did 30 minutes on Sunday, 60 minutes on Monday and 60 minutes on Tuesday so I'm right on track. And, I reminded myself, 30 minutes is better than 0 minutes.

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An unexpected boost

Daily Show was another repeat. Gossip Girls thankfully is not a nightly occurrance. I was left with Dr. Phil for my hour on the elliptical. Today's topic: Moms who hate being moms. Yeehah.

The first two guests have some legitimate, serious, monumental challenges. The first were parents of a girl they adopted 6 years ago from the Ukraine. The child had emotional issues but also physical challenges - her leg was amputated and she needed a prosthetic; she had fingers missing on one hand making it hard for her to grip They adopted her and the main issue has been the Mom never felt bonded with her. It was sad to hear her talk about it, and it make me feel grateful that I've got such a strong bond with Bobbin. I love Bobbin with my entire being. I love her as much as the universe is big. And every second of every minute of every day of every year I love her more. She is my girl.

The second woman was a mother raising a severely downs syndrome and severely autistic child of 12, still in diapers at 96lbs, barely capable of communicating, and all o the other challenges that come with severe autism as well as severe downs syndrome. Her life as she saw it before her, was about taking care of an infant for the rest of her entire life and wondering what happens then. She clearly loved him, as did her husband, and the guilt and conflict was tearing her apart. I felt so helpless on her behalf. I don't know what I would do. And I am so very grateful that I don't have to know what I would do. I am blessed.

The third mother was a mother of 4 kids. In her own words, by most standards she lived a great life - great home, they had money, great jobs, etc. The kids were pretty chaotic and they kept her chasing them, and she was just exhausted. And Dr. Phil told her what many have told me - take some time out for yourself; don't feel guilty about doing it; you are a better mom when you have had time to recharge and come back joyful and reenergized, then if you're just staying in the grind day after day.

Yeah - so a bit of a rollercoaster ride I got for free with my elliptical workout but it ended on an up note in that I did really feel grateful for what I do have and I'm not a bad mom for wanting time to myself on a regular basis.

Good lord; Dr Phil actually had something useful to say. Blech. I'll be glad when the Daily Show starts broadcasting new episodes again.

I did 60 minutes. I also must admit to consuming a philly cheesesteak grinder at the work cafeteria today for lunch. I so didn't need that. I know that.

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60 Minutes

Daily Show was a repeat, and Dr. Phil was just plain depressing and annoying (he lost me after "I need to warn everyone; this is what I do. Today is not about being on TV, not about the ratings; this is real life") which came, really, as no surprise. And so I found myself working out to "The Gossip Girls". A show I have mercifully avoided ever knowing existed until today.

This from a closet adult "Bevery Hills 90210" addict. Seriously. I used to watch that show religiously on Wednesday nights. A friend, who shall remain nameless but was also partially responsible for the kitchen fire in my apartment, and I used to get together regularly and watch the show. Granted our enjoyment came mostly from criticizing the characters, plot, and everything in between. But I still watched it every Wednesday. Right up until the series finale.

Yeah, so anyway - Gossip Girls. I'm sorry, but those "kids" are supposed to be 16...17 years old, tops? Seriously? And while Beverly Hills was already pretty far cry from any reality I've ever known, Gossip Girls is just a completely different universe. Is this what kids are watching now? Is this the current, American equivalent of Degrassi Junior High? If so, we're cancelling our satellite subscription the minute we start letting Bobbin stay up past 8pm.

I remember when I started being allowed to stay up past 8pm. It was Thursday nights, and I was in fourth grade and living in Ottawa (the first time). It was the the year Buck Rogers returned to TV in an updated series staring Gil Gerard and Erin Gray (who later would be the dad's girlfriend on Silver Spoons). The year was 1979. At 7:30pm The Littlest Hobo would come on, which all 4 of us would watch. When "Hobo" was over Sarah would go to bed, and I'd get to stay up and watch Buck Rogers on the black and white TV in the living room with Mom and Dad. Every other night of the week I still had to go to bed by 8:00. But Thursdays were special.

I can't think of a single TV show these days that's on at 8pm that I'll be ok with letting Bobbin watch when she's in fourth grade except possibly whatever is on PBS or the History, Science, and Nature channels. Maybe Star Trek if it's still on then... I say this now. But I reserve the right to have a change of opinion between now and when I actually need to worry about it.

Ah - but this post was originally about exercise. Yup - 60 minutes on the elliptical as per my plan. I'll check my weight again in 4 weeks and not before. I also reset my calorie counter with my new weight; 5 lbs lighter. That was fun :-)

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Way too hot

and humid today. Bobbin and I spent most of it on the deck playing in her froggie pool. I even wore shorts for the occasion. A common occurrence 4 years ago, but rarely seen these days. This evening was spent sipping a $14 bottle of sparkling organic wine from PCC out of a champagne glass. Because why the hell not. At any rate, the 95F heat on the deck, 85F heat in the house, and humidity that felt like I was stepping into a steam sauna every time I opened a door to the outside provided a perfect opportunity to pass up exercising, but I got myself down on the treadmill at 8pm as usual and did 30 minutes while watching the Roast of Bob Saget. I hate Sunday night TV. On the plus side, the last two days off from exercising must have created some adrenaline reserves because I powered through the 30 minutes at sprint speed, and burned an extra 50 calories above and beyond my regular pace, and I felt great doing it.

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Week 5: Results are in

I have lost 1 inch around the waist and 5 lbs, since July 13th. I have to admit to mixed feelings. On the one hand, I'm really happy to see the numbers change for the better. On the other, I was hoping after 5 weeks that I'd have lost at least 10 lbs. 1 lb a week seems like not a lot. I've lost up to 4 lbs in a week in past attempts. By the same token, past attempts failed miserably and I always ended up gaining the weight back. Probably because I was too aggressive and lost weight without establishing sustainable habits. So it's encouraging but at the same time, I still feel like I'm standing at the bottom of a huge mountain looking up, not able to see the top for the clouds.

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Latest aerobic musing: Has he given up on the hot dog?

Now that I'm working out for 60 minutes, I've been doing a lot more viewing of the Colbert Report. I've always liked Stephen Colbert, but just always had something else to do after the Daily Show so it slipped from my regular viewing.

In my last serious attempt to get back on the workout bandwagon before this one - back in December and January - I watched the Colbert Report pretty consistently; that's when I originally got hooked. Back then I noticed in the intro sequence, an almost subliminal graphic behind Steven that said "President Bush have a hot dog with me". It actually took me several episodes to read the full sentence, because it only barely flashes on the screen during the sequence. I always wondered what spawned that invitation. I was a newbie to the Colbert Nation then, but I still don't know the reason behind it now. However I think that I've noticed at least the last two nights, that the graphic doesn't appear in the opening sequence anymore. Either that or I'm just not paying as close attention. Sis - you're a Colbert fan - am I right about the missing hot dog invite? If so, why's he giving up now? Bush is still "president" for a few more months, officially. Anyone? Anyone out there know?

Apparently there is an online petition for getting Stephen into the white house to have a hot dog with President Bush. I came across it when searching the internets to see if I could confirm that Stephen really is asking the president to eat a hot dog with him in that intro graphic in the first place, or if I had been misreading that too :-)

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It's not a bladder problem.

Random workout contemplation as I watched tv this evening while doing my 60 minute workout.

Have you seen that Detrol commercial on tv... the one where the woman is teaching a class and keeps looking up at the clock anxiously as she waits for the bell to ring to signal the end of the school day so she can run to the bathroom and empty her bladder? And the little blue "female" symbol on the restroom door hops down off the placard and follows her into the bathroom and starts telling her about how Detrol can control that "got to go" feeling you get all the time when you have an overactive bladder. The teacher sits rapt with attention, staring into the blue circle that is the symbol's "head" as the symbol proceeds to type on the keyboard and pull the Detrol web site up on her computer.

That lady doesn't need bladder control medication. She needs to check herself in to a detox center and get off the hallucinogens.

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Umm.... EWWWW! (and an exercise update)

I woke up this morning looking and feeling like someone had implanted a golf ball in the underside of my chin. Swollen, super painful to the touch, and just generally all round uncomfortable even left alone.

I didn't think it could be mumps. A) I have had mumps already as a child and as far as I know you only get them once, and 2) it seemed an odd place for mumps. I didn't even know I had any glands directly under my chin. Because I barely made it past first year biology in University (it was required, even for computer science. The pre-med students almost did me in but I got the minimum required grade to pass and left the doctor wannabies behind to compete with each other over med school applications; I am probably making more and owing less money than most of them now, which is karma for all of those lab sheets and handouts that they would steal so there wouldn't be enough to go around for all the students, giving themselves a "competitive edge" over the rest of the class). So I made a doctor's appointment.

Apparently what I have, is an infected salivary gland. The doctor said that the salivary glands can become blocked and trap bacteria inside, causing infection. On occasion, one can have stones appear in the salivary gland. Been there and done that with my gall bladder; really not interested in repeating that experience elsewhere in my body. At any rate, my salivary glands are infected and I'm on antibiotics for the next 10 days. I have no idea what caused this.

So I did a little research and found a web site on Salivary Gland Disorders to learn more. Because I'm like that. If I had my old doctor - the one who moved to Montana - I bet I wouldn't have had to do this research; I would have come home with a beautifully drawn diagram of my salivary glands and a detailed explanation of how they can become infected. How I miss her. So it was up to me to fill in the blanks myself. Thank heavens for the internet. I found it interesting that there is an actual web site devoted to Salivary Gland Disorders. But then I realized that it's put up by a pharmaceutical company and they probably have a web site devoted to every gland, organ, muscle, and vessel in the entire body for the sole purpose of being discovered by people like me.

Still, it was informative. And I learned the following about my salivary glands:

1) The gland that is infected is likely NOT one of my two parotid glands, which can be found just behind the jaw, below and in front of the ears. It is either a sublingual gland or submandibular gland, both pairs of which lie deep in the floor of the mouth.

2) There are several disease causes of salivary gland malfunction including cancer, Parkinson's, HIV, Sjögren's syndrome (an autoimmune disorder that attacks the glands that produce tears and saliva). Interestingly enough, Depression was also listed as a disease that can cause salivary gland malfunction.

3) There are also several known drugs that can cause salivary gland malfunction including certain methyldopa, antipsychotics, diuretics, antihistamines, sedatives, and antidepressants. In the last week I've taken midol for PMS (contains a diuertic for water weight gain); tylenol sinus for my bitch of a head cold (contains an antihistamine), Ambien for sleeping, and my daily happy pill.

4) A common symptom of salivary gland malfunction is a reduction in production of saliva, resulting in dry mouth. This, I do NOT have. My saliva production is as good as ever, in case you were wondering. However salivary gland swelling, which I do have, can occur when one of the ducts from the gland to the mouth is blocked. The most common cause of blockage is a stone. Stones can form from salts contained in the saliva. Apparently if the swelling is caused by a blocked duct when you eat a pickle it will cause it to worsen because a sour taste stimulates saliva flow but the saliva has no place to go due to the blocked duct. I hate pickles so I'm not going to try this out. Swelling can also be caused by cancerous or noncancerous tumors.

But the best part by far of the research is the diagnosis and treatment. This is really lovely.

"There are no good quantitative tests to diagnose salivary gland malfunction. However, the salivary glands can be squeezed ('milked') and the ducts observed for saliva flow.

"If a salivary duct is blocked by a stone, a dentist can sometimes push the stone out by pressing on both sides of the duct. If that fails, a fine-wire-like instrument can be used to pull out the stone. As a last resort, the stone can be removed surgically."

Anyway, here's hoping it's just a bacterial infection, because I really don't need anyone milking my salivary glands, popping stones out of my mouth, or sticking "fine-wire-like instruments" under my tongue.

On the exercise front - since I'm filing this one under "Health and Exercise" anyway - I did 45 minutes on the elliptical. Not bad for someone with a swollen salivary gland, huh.

2 in a row and time for new goals

Another 60 minute workout this evening, making for two in a row. As I begin week 5 of my quest for fitness, I decided it was time to set new goals.

My original goals were to

1) work out for 30 minutes 5 days a week
2) give up chocolate chip cookies and cut down on unhealthy snacking in general
3) quit the hot chocolate, bagel and cream cheese morning routine in favour of a healthier breakfast routine

for 4 weeks in a row.

I had no weight loss goal; no target for inches lost for the 4 weeks. In fact, I pledged to not step on a scale for the entire 4 weeks. I ended up getting my period last week so I decided to extend the "no scale" rule by another week just to ensure positive results when I finally do look at the numbers.

I'm proud to say, I've met all 3 goals. I've worked out for at least 30 minutes for at least 5 days a week for 4 weeks straight. I've touched nary a cookie and have cut way back on bad snack foods in general. I still go to Starbucks each morning but have replaced the hot chocolate, bagel, and cream cheese with a non-fat banana chocolate "vivano" (i.e., overpriced smoothie). There's just something I like about stopping at Starbucks after dropping Bobbin off at school and before I head in to work. I wanted to keep that part of the routine because it makes me happy. But I make a better, healthier purchase in the process.

I've decided therefore, to celebrate my 4 week accomplishments by setting some new goals. For the next 4 weeks I will

1) work out for 60 minutes for at least 3 of my 5 weekly workouts
2) eat more appropriate portion sizes at dinner each day
3) eat more fruit or vegetables at dinner time each day and less of the other stuff.

I'm not going to necessarily change my lunch or dinner menus. That would require some forethought, which in turn requires time and a dash of creativity and I find myself lacking in both department these days. But I can cut back on the portion sizes, and increase my intake of fruits and veggies by following the Bobbin formula - which is if it's a fruit or a veggie and it tastes great raw and by itself I will eat it happily. Strawberries, blackberries, blueberries, grapes, baby carrots, melon, cherry tomatoes. All goodness. I'm not a huge salad fan. Correction; I'll eat salad as long as someone else prepares it. I don't know why. I don't really enjoy it unless someone else prepared it fresh (and cleaned up afterwards). I'm also not a big cooked veggie fan; corn on the cob excepted. But if I can just pick it up and chow down on it without any intermediate steps, I'm there.

So, you lucky people - you get to start hearing about the FOOD I CONSUME on a daily basis now too for the next four weeks in addition to my daily workout report. Woohoo. Exciting stuff. Settle down now. I know it's a lot to anticipate.

In all seriousness, although very few people actually read this blog there's a psychological boost I get by setting my fitness goals publically and reporting on them here in my little corner of the Internets. It keeps me honest, I guess. I feel more accountable. And it also makes it harder to cave cause I feel like there are more people to answer to than just myself. I know that's all just in my head; I do realize most of you would just shrug and move on but I like to pretend that you'd ask what gives if I failed to meet my goal one week and that you're less likely than I am to believe my "poor me" stories of self pity, stress, and lack of time as reasons for not hitting my goals. It's amazing how much crap I dish out to myself in the form of these excuses and even more so how much of it I actually accept and buy into. Especially when you consider that in my work life, I'm one of the most reliable, accountable, least likely to bull-shit-you people you will ever meet. I haven't figured that out yet either. Maybe my therapist will.

So here's to the last 4 weeks and the start of the next 4. I'm going to weigh myself next weekend too, and take a waist measurement. I'm trying to set low expectations for myself so that I don't get discouraged when I see the teeny tiny results after 5 weeks of huge effort. I didn't get here overnight; I won't get back overnight either.

And my three secret inspirations that help motivate me forward, in addition to the daily reports on this blog, are

1) a picture of me crossing the finish line at my first and only marathon. I RAN the entire frickin' way.
2) a picture of me in my wedding dress. A size 6 designer gown. Sigh.
3) a picture in my head of Bobbin, in her teen years, bright and confident, with a strong self esteem, a healthy relationship with food, and a healthy enjoyment for physical activity.

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Rockin' out

Jack Black in "School of Rock" was good for an hour of exercise tonight. First time I've done a full hour in a while. 30 minutes on the elliptical and 30 on the bicycle. I had 40 minutes left to go in the movie and was totally feeling like I could do it, but I decided I'd better quit while I'm ahead if I wanted to be able to walk normally tomorrow. I can always rent it to see the last bit.

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It works for me

I have found repeatedly that if I take my meds (OTC & perscription) with a glass of sparkling water (Talking Rain does as well as San Pelligrino) instead of regular water.it makes my Ambien pill kick in about 50% faster. It usually does the same for pain killers like tylenol for me too. Unclear of what drinking fizzy water will do for Zoloft. It's the Ambien that has my eyes too crossed right now to even attempt to look it up in a meaningful way on the internet.

Sarah - what's the explanation?

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change of pace

I haven't done a 4 mile walk in a week, so decided to head out to a different part of the trail. Ended up completing about 4 1/2 all told. And then hopped on the elliptical this evening for another 30 minutes.

Not much to watch tonight, unless I want to drown myself in the olympic swimming events. I like to watch the Olympics, but in moderation. So I tuned in to the tail end of "Mr. And Mrs. Smith"... the Brad Pitt / Angelina Jolie movie. The 30 minutes went by in a blur, my attention captured by the 30-minute final-scene shootout.

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A bit more of a workout than I had bargained for

It was HOT tonight. And I still have a migraine. But I got on the elliptical for my regular 30 minutes. Half way through, however, I was interrupted by a scurrying grey blur streaking across the concrete floor in my peripheral vision. At first I thought it was a giant spider. I nearly fainted. And then I saw it was... a mouse.

The thing was either sick, delirious, or just plain panicked. It was running around in circles on the spot, and jumping in a random, jerky fashion. It reminded me of a kitten we had that was epileptic.

After I kind of came to my senses, I hopped of the treadmill, grabbed a plastic flower pot that was conveniently nearby, and after about 10 minutes of chasing it around the basement, flipping over chairs and used baby apparatus, I managed to trap it under the pot and slide it over to the french doors, where I managed to release it into the "wild" after several harried minutes of futzing with the door lock.

I had goosebumps the entire time, and I could feel the hair on the back of my neck raising despite being covered in sweat from my workout. Icky.

I then resumed my workout, with one eye scanning the basement floor the entire time. I don't even remember who Jon Stewart's guest was. I did burn an extra 45 calories - and that's just on the elliptical. Probably a lot more if you count the panicked (yet quiet; Bobbin was still awake upstairs) running around the basement chasing the mouse.

It may be that the thing just managed to get in the house when we last had the doors open to move my bike. Or it may have been there for a while. I dunno. But Tim'll be making a call tomorrow to the pest people just to be sure we don't have a problem.

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Tread tread tread

and another 30 minutes... half way through my final week of my 4-week goal (the first of many). Of course, it also happens to be the week that I am guaranteed to gain 5 lbs of water weight so I think I will actually extend my goal by a week and wait until next week to step on the scale.

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Another hurdle cleared; I'm ready for the olympics

at this rate, I've earned a spot on someone's team. Tonight I actually cleared three mental hurdles:

1) The "I'm too stressed from a long day of meetings to exercise; I deserve to veg on the couch" hurdle,

2) The "PMS is kicking my a$$; I feel a migraine coming on and the cramps are killing me; I deserve to veg on the couch" hurdle, and

3) The "My neck and shoulders are killing me; I deserve to veg on the couch" hurdle

Another "E" marked off on the calendar.

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Back on the treadmill

After two days "off" I got myself back on the elliptical for 30 minutes today. Still not over my cold and the snot continues to slow me down. But I did it!

I had a doctor's appointment this afternoon also. I had her fill out the paperwork for me to enroll in a weight loss / lifestyle change program. A lot of coworkers have completed the program successfully, which includes working out with a personal trainer and consulting with nutritionists. I just barely met the minimum qualifications to have my health insurance cover all of the costs. Like all insurance companies, they go by the numbers. And so in order for them to cover the costs of the program, I need to either

1) have a BMI that is greater than or equal to 30, OR

2) I need to have a BMI greater than or equal to 27 AND be diagnosed with at least 2 of the following conditions: Diabetes, hypertension, depression, chronic heart disease, high cholesterol, or some condition relating to lipids that I can't remember.

I can claim depression but the rest are a long ways from being issues for me. I'm blessed with good genes - no matter how stressed I get, how much I don't exercise, how badly I eat, or how much I weigh, I have consistently low blood pressure and cholesterol and all my organs are healthy and functioning. This is, of course, goodness. And I know I can't abuse the goodness because good genes only get me so far; I have to take care of myself too. But it does mean that I have to meet the first criteria if I want to be able to get insurance to cover the costs of my program.

The doctor calculated my BMI to be 30.2, which means two things

1) I technically meet the World Health Organization's definition of "obesity". Hooray for me.

2) I qualify to have my insurance company cover the costs of me signing up for this program.

I'm trying to concentrate on the latter of the two points. Apparently I have lost 5lbs since my last visit 3 weeks ago; had I lost just 1 lb more, I would be footin' the bill myself. So really, it's all good. Yeah. mmm hmmm.

So the one thing I haven't figured out yet is where I'm going to get the time to work out with a personal trainer and consult with these nutritionists. Because if I had that kind of time, quite frankly I wouldn't have to get help; I could do it myself. Hopefully I can do some of it on weekends. There are also friday afternoons, assuming Tim is able to pick up Bobbin. No matter; the important thing is I at least got the paperwork done.

I am also proud to report that on this first day back at work after a week's vacation I did NOT succumb to cafeteria cow chip cookie temptation. It seems that change is sticking, as is my new morning routine: a grande non-fat banana chocolate Vivano. Cheaper and healthier and much less like a tonne of bricks in my stomach than my cream cheese bagel and peppermint hot chocolate. It's been 4 weeks since I kicked the bagel habit; same as the cookie resistance.

I am also in week 4 of my exercise goal: 5 days per week for 4 weeks. At the end of this week I'll be upping the goal; probably sticking to the 5 days per week plan but increasing the duration of each workout. I am waiting until I get to the end of this goal before I set a new one.

It is slow going, and I long for more instant gratification; to wake up and have my tummy be suddenly flat again; to actually be able to see an indication of a waistline; to have some definition in my jaw and a perfect posture. To be the slender 5'8", 135 lb woman that I was 5 years ago that ran a marathon and fit into a size 6 designer wedding gown. Or even just to be the 158 lbs that I was 3 months after giving birth when I went back to work.

I know I will never be 135 lbs again. And that may actually not be my most healthy weight anyway. But I do know I can lose some inches and get back some definition. It's just not going to happen overnight, unfortunately.

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Made it past the third hurdle

I got sick yesterday. Some kind of cold. My whole body aches and my head feels thick and my throat is killing me. I'm miserable.

In the past, whenever I've felt even slightly unwell I've used it as an excuse to not do anything physical. Then before I know it, my exercise "routine" has gone down the drain and I'm back to being an inactive lump.

Tonight, however, I forced myself onto the elliptical for 30 minutes. I was moving much more slowly than usual, but at least I was moving. And this is despite the fact that I had already achieved my 5 workouts for the week; tonight was number 6.

I may pay for it tomorrow. I don' t know. Or maybe I managed to sweat out the bugs and I'll wake up feeling great. I doubt that. Likely, I did not make my cold any better or any worse by exercising tonight but I at least feel like I cleared another mental hurdle in my quest for healthier living.

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Another day on the treadmill

30 more minutes this evening on the elliptical, on the verge of wrapping up week 3 of my 4 week goal.

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Trail x 2

4 miles this morning and another half mile in the evening.

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30 more minutes

I've discovered that the funnier Jon Stewart is, the more calories I burn on the elliptical. Bring on the laughs.

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Exercise report

4 miles on the trail this morning, my first day of a week long vacation. Then 30 minutes on the elliptical. I'm afraid if I only do the walks, when I go back to work I won't have established any habits I can sustain with my work schedule. This way, no matter what, I'll keep up the 30 minutes nightly. Everything else is icing on the cake :-)

I am now in week 3 of my goal to

1) exercise for at least 30 minutes 5 days a week for 4 weeks
2) cut out all chocolate chip cookies, and
3) end my morning starbucks routine (tall, non-fat, no whip, peppermint hot chocolate + toasted bagel with 2 cream cheeses)

So far so good. As a result of my cookie efforts I've actually cut out all chocolate from my diet. Early in 2000 I stopped consuming anything with chocolate as an effort to curb my migraines, as I knew chocolate to be a trigger. It had the added side effect of allowing me to lose weight then. When I got pregnant my migraines magically disappeared. When I discovered this, I started indulging in chocolate here and there but after giving birth it quickly turned into a comfort food as I dealt with my postpartum depression.

I don't know if I've lost any inches or weight since I pledged not to measure either for 4 weeks so as not to risk demotivating myself if I don't see the numbers changing rapidly enough.

I do feel a slight increase in energy, and possibly a slight decrease in the size of my stomach. Very slight. I think I've also improved my cardiovascular fitness - I'm able to sustain a faster pace and burn more calories in 30 minutes now compared to 3 weeks ago.

My posture, however, still sucks. When I went to the doctor a couple of weeks ago, they checked my height and I actually am 1 inch shorter than I was 4 years ago. I've developed a horrible slouch in my upper back and shoulders - a combination of a) bending over to tend to Bobbin from birth through now, b) poor posture in front of the computer that until recently was not counteracted by exercise and stretching, and c) general low self esteem.

BUT first things first. I figure regular exercise will give me the natural opportunity to stretch and re-establish good habits. It has in the past. So I'll get to my 4 week goal and then establish some new ones and go from there.

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4 more miles

walked today along the trail this morning. I saw 2 blue herons and countless cyclists. I think there was some sort of race; they were all wearing numbers. The cyclists, not the herons.

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What's up, Docs?

I used to have an amazing doctor. For 3 years she was my primary care physician. She was everything you imagine a doctor specializing in internal medicine should be. Really smart; compassionate; genuinely interested in her patients' well being and improving their quality of life; excellent listener; excellent diagnostic skills; and excellent at explaining in lay-person terms what was going on with your body and causing whatever it was you were feeling or seeing. She'd draw pictures, or pull out a text book with graphics, and she'd talk to you in terms you'd understand but not in a condescending way. she'd listen to you and answer every question, and ask questions that indicated she also had a sense of what you were not telling her. She would get out the prescription pad only after she had spent at least 30 minutes talking with you, discussing all treatment options, and only if she thought the prescription was really going to actually help you. She was an awesome doctor.

Then she left the practice she was with so she could open her own private practice in Montana. Good for Montana. Not good for me.

For a while after that I had no primary care physician. I just saw whoever was available when I was feeling sick and would usually leave feeling irritated and cheated.

Eventually, after cycling through almost all of the doctors at this particular clinic, I finally found one that I sorta liked. She didn't have all of the same qualities as my original primary care physician but she was professional, efficient, friendly, and respectful of my little quirks and issues.

Sometime after I got pregnant she also left the practice and went elsewhere. The office where I had been seeing her did not tell her patients why she left or where she went in the form letter they sent. I didn't much care because at that time, I was seeing my OB-GYN monthly and not in any need of any other type of medical care. After I went back to work I would just see whatever female doctor was available at the office that I had been going to, but I really didn't like any of them. At all.

A few months ago I decided that I was sufficiently out of all medication refills and out of date on enough immunizations and annual physicals that it was probably time to do something about my lack of a primary care physician. I did some internet searching and ended up locating my last doctor; the one that I thought was relatively "good", and I set up an appointment. She was booked out for 4 months for new patients. Clearly others thought she was relatively "good" too.

I don't think I have incredibly unreasonable standards for the health care professionals that I allow to treat me. I simply expect

1) Some level of interest in me as a human being beyond the check boxes I filled out in the waiting room

2) some amount of recognition of who I am, even if feigned and enabled only by reading my file in advance and taking down a couple of personal notes each session to help jog a memory

3) Respect for my idiosyncrasies - like my poor body image - and accommodation for the same.

4) Some actual relevant delving into my family medical history.

That's all really. Oh yeah - that plus evidence that you actually did complete a recognized medical school and hold a relevant degree as well as a valid and current license to practice medicine in this state.

I'm amazed at how often I don't get these things (1-4; they all have the necessary education and credentials at least but that shouldn't be the bar). It's really kind of a sad statement on the entire industry. I don't really know who's to blame. I hear and read about how the insurance companies are forcing doctors to overload on patients and work extended hours just to be able to "make ends meet", resulting in shorter patient visits and lowering the quality of care in favour of increasing the quantity of patients. But I don't know that I would place all the blame there. I guess I figure if you're going to do something - whether it's something you chose or something that has been thrust upon you by circumstance - you should at least choose do it right. Whether you're a doctor, a software developer, a bricklayer, or a fast food drive thru attendant.

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The cookie wagon and other stuff

No cookies. 30 minutes on the elliptical. Just for the record, since I'm finding that posting my efforts are keeping me somewhat honest.

But surely there's other stuff happening in my life besides cookie counting and running in place? Yes, there are. But it's hard for me to focus on writing about them when I'm concentrating on the exercise front. Let's see:

- Bobbin retired her little potty today. All her idea. She's done with it and wants to box it up and see if little Zed wants it (it's got a nice cushy seat, Zed, and it looks like a real potty! ;-)) because she's decided "It's too small for me, mommy".

- We're a completely pullup-free household. It's undies all the way, even at bedtime now, for Bobbin. This is our 3rd week doing undies at night, although she's stayed dry at night for several months now even in her pullups. We've only had two accidents and both were on no-nap days; she just slept right through the usual signals.

- Tim sold his car a couple of weeks ago.

- I start a one week vacation at precisely 3pm tomorrow. Long over due. Mid-week I'm packin' a bag and checking in to a hotel for one night about 10 minutes away, across the street from a spa and next to the walking trail. In doing so, I'm going to treat myself to an entire night's uninterrupted sleep alone, a 5 mile walk, a hair appointment, and possibly a facial or massage.

And because it's been entirely too long since I posted a photo - here's Bobbin playing golf on our deck.

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Off site, off track

"At lunch I will open my boxed lunch, drink my tiny bottle of water, eat my itsy bag of carrots, partake of my overstuffed sandwich. I will try not to eat the bag of chips. I will put my cookie and/or candy bar into the center of the table for grabs. I will not grab for the other cookies and candy bars that are deposited there."

Ok - so I did open my boxed lunch, I did drink my bottle of water. There were no carrots, but there was an apple. A tiny box-lunch-sized Red Delicious. And I did eat it. Score one point. I ate my sandwich, which, thankfully was not overstuffed but appropriately sized. I ate the bag of chips. Subtract one point. I took a bite of the cookie and then threw it out. It wasn't very good. If the chocolate chips had been embedded in regular cookie vs peanut butter cookie, I probably would have consumed the entire thing. But it wasn't so I didn't. Score one point (it's results, not intent, that matters). At the mid-afternoon break, I inhaled a second bag of chips, subtract one point, and a Hershey's chocolate bar, subtract another one. So at the end of the day, I left the offsite down by one and really needing to pee because I used the scheduled breaks during the day to catch up on email instead of use the bathroom. TMI, I know, but these are the weird trade offs I make on a daily basis that affect my life in odd ways. I don't want to hear it so shut up already.

On the PLUS side - I exercised. And cleared another mental hurdle. Wednesdays are low motivation days for exercising because I work from 8am to 7pm in order to be able to accommodate conference calls with people in Europe (8am) and Asia (6pm). To make up for it I do try to force myself to leave work early on Fridays and am successful about 65% of the time. But by 7pm on Wednesday I'm pretty mentally drained and just looking forward to coming home, hanging out with Tim and Bobbin, and relaxing. Usually I use the fact that I worked until 7pm as an excuse for not exercising; claiming to myself that I "need a break" despite the fact that my work consists of me sitting on my butt in front of a computer most of the day. Sometimes Wednesdays are also extra hard on the exercise routine because Bobbin doesn't get to bed 'til later. Either she or I (or both of us) will end up putting off bedtime in favour of playing or cuddling extra long to make up for the fact that I got home late. Not a good habit I know - but sometimes it's what we need... I need. And when that happens it usually leads to my "well, it's too late now" excuse for not exercising.

But today Bobbin stuck to our usual time line without a fuss, and at 7:55pm I marched myself straight downstairs and did what has become my regular workout - 30 minutes on the elliptical while watching The Daily Show, followed by balancing and stretching with my exercise ball to The Colbert Report.

So I didn't completely fall off the wagon today. I'm hanging on with one hand. My other is still clutching the wrapper from the Hershey bar.

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8 out of 10

Today marks day 10 of my rise from the ashes of 3 years of failed exercise attempts. It's not the longest run I've had, but it's also not over yet. I'm not going to criticize myself. Since starting anew Sunday July 13th I've worked out for 30 minutes or more for 8 of the last 10 days, including today.

Technically I've been cookie-free for 6 whole days, but I have to confess to indulging in a slice of chocolate cheesecake at an employee's baby shower today. Everyone was doin' it... I think that's ok though. It was one day, one moment, one slice, for a special celebration. It was not me running over to the cafeteria, snagging 3 cookies from the cowprint-aproned lady, and then pretending I need to run off to a meeting with 2 other people when in fact I'm going back to my office by myself.

Oh my god. How pathetic am I? Mirror, mirror, on my blog...

Tomorrow I'm supposed to go out for a team dinner with people from work but I think I'm going to decline in favour of not screwing up my exercise routine, and so as not to overindulge in rich and plentiful restaurant portions.

Tomorrow I'm at an off site all day at work. Off site = sitting on my ass for 8 hours straight. Offsite also = catered boxed lunch. Boxed lunches typically contain an over-sized cookie or candy bar. My goal tomorrow, aside from accomplishing our work related objectives at the offsite, will be to not partake of the cookie or candy bar. In the morning I will stop at the grocery store and buy some healthy snacks "just in case". At lunch I will open my boxed lunch, drink my tiny bottle of water, eat my itsy bag of carrots, partake of my overstuffed sandwich. I will try not to eat the bag of chips. I will put my cookie and/or candy bar into the center of the table for grabs. I will not grab for the other cookies and candy bars that are deposited there. This I am stating here now as my commitment to myself. Tomorrow I shall claim my victory.

Hey... what fun is this if I can't inject a little drama and suspense into the daily logging of my eating & exercise efforts.

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Hurdle 1: Cleared

Bobbin exploded tonight as we were getting ready for bedtime. She has really bad eczema covering her entire lower body from her waist down to her ankles. I think it's a combination of the summer heat and the dirt that she gets caked in at school (bark dust and grime has a real affinity for sun screen). So we've been treating it with Aveeno 1% hydrocortisone, followed by a layer of Eucerin cream. This is what we've done since she was a baby, and it's always worked wonders. It still works. Only difference is that when she was a baby she'd fall asleep while I put cream on her. Now she hates it. What she hates is putting her clothes on while the cream isn't fully absorbed, so we give her some "drying" time, but that is not enough to convince her that this is a good thing that we're doing. Some nights are better than others and she'll allow me to put it on without much of a fuss, even exclaiming as I do it that "See mommy? It doesn't hurt! I'm a big girl!" Tonight was not one of those nights.

Tonight she went ballistic, screaming and running away. I know it is fear of pain that is driving her so Tim and I patiently waited it out and finally managed to convince her to come to me and let me put the cream on. She stopped crying and calmed down, I got the cream on, she agreed it didn't hurt and then when I was done and ready to give her a hug she promptly turned around, faced me, and smacked me hard on the head angrily.

After more screaming protests as I put her in a time out, we reconciled and she apologized, we cuddled in the big chair, and I tucked her in to bed.

By this time, however, it was 8:30pm. 30 minutes past the time when I usually go downstairs to exercise. Up until this week, that would have been my excuse to skip the elliptical. The time had past, it was too late, no work out for me. Tonight I forced myself to go down to the basement and work out for 30 full minutes, followed by my usual stretches with the exercise ball. It was mental agony. Because it had been such a difficult evening all I wanted to do was just go back upstairs and cuddle with her. I knew that she'd be calling out to go potty about 10 minutes after I tucked her in; and that 10 minutes after that she'd be asking to be covered up; and about 10 minutes after that she'd be calling out that Ginger was making noise and it was scaring her, followed by a call that she was thirsty. This is what she does. Normally I'm drained by the 3rd call and Tim and I end up tag-teaming to give each other a break. But tonight, all I wanted was to be upstairs so I could go in and take care of whatever it was she was calling for. I guess because I wanted to make up for her being so upset before bed, or because I wanted to feel better about it myself, or something. All I know is I worked out for 30 minutes and my heart ached the entire time.

BUT I did it. There will be a LOT of evenings in the future that don't start "on time" at 8pm for a variety of reasons. I need to be ok with that. I need to find a way to exercise anyway, and not let the lack of schedule adherence be my excuse for not working out. I cleared the hurdle tonight. Maybe that means I can clear the next one too.

AND... I ate no cookies today.

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That was harder than I remember...

Today Bobbin and I ventured out with the bike & trailer. Our cunning plan: To bike 6 miles along the trail to our favourite park where we'd meet up with Miss E, have a picnic lunch, play on the climber, feed the ducks and geese, run and play some more, and then bike 6 miles back to the car.

We kept to plan and had a GREAT time, but MAN, that was harder than I remember. The last time we took the trailer out, Bobbin was all of 9 months old and weighed a lot less. I was about 25 lbs lighter myself, and my knees didn't bounce of my tummy when I pedaled. Ok - I'm exaggerating about the tummy, but really not by much.

It took us about 40 minutes to bike to the park and about an hour to bike back. I had to stop a couple of times each way to adjust the trailer. The bars on our bikes are a little thicker than what the hitch supports. It wasn't a noticeable problem 2 years ago when it was carrying less weight but it was a noticeable problem today. Bobbin did get to hear a few choice words pass my lips when I stopped the 2nd time each way. Hopefully the fun of the trip will override any memory, and I won't hear the words "goddamn piece of crap" emanating from the living room the next time she's putting her Thomas the Train tracks together on the coffee table.

So today's exercise was 12 miles on a bicycle towing several lbs of extra weight. I'm not sure how much the trailer itself weighs, but Bobbin is now 34.5 lbs. Plus our lunch bag and water bottles in the back.

And on the cookie front - none for 5 days. Lets see what happens at work tomorrow.

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Friday Exercise

4 miles along the trail. Fridays are my early days - I leave work at 3pm. Tim's agreed to pick Bobbin up from school on Fridays as well, leaving me free, hopefully, to exercise for an hour. Lets see if I make a habit out of it.

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Baby Steps; Big Applause

After about a half dozen starts and stops since getting my new elliptical for my birthday in December, I've decided to give it another go.

For 3 days in a row I've done a 30 minute elliptical workout while watching the Daily Show. It's not much, but it's better than sitting on my butt complaining about how I never have time to exercise. It's not even close to what I used to do. I keep saying that, but since it's been 4 years since I've done "what I used to do" maybe I should actually look at "what I used to do" as being "nothing" and now I'm actually doing "something". My goal is to keep this up 5 days a week for the next 4 weeks. I could aim higher - 6 days a week for the next 6 weeks; or increase by 10 minutes every other day or each week, etc, but my track record of actually achieving on the exercise front in the last three years is pretty dismal so I figured if I aim for something a little less ambitious maybe I'll actually succeed.

I also bought one of those big ball things. I dunno what they're called - when I was pregnant I borrowed one from a friend and used to sit on it instead of my office chair when I became too big. I used to use them in our aerobics/pilates/weight class back when I actually went to a gym to get exercise. Now I use it after the elliptical for stretching and balancing. I can actually bend all the way backwards over it - nice to know my flexibility hasn't left me for good - and my favourite "game" is to try and lift it up on the soles of my feet while lying on my back, until my legs are perfectly straight and my feet are positioned directly underneath it. If it rolls off my feet before I've been able to maintain this for 5 seconds, I have to start again. Once I've done 5, I'm free to go. It usually falls straight down and bounces off my head just when I'm about to get my feet positioned under it, which usually makes me laugh, so it takes a while for me to get through all 5. I have no idea if this is good for me or not. It's not an exercise listed on the "manual" or CD that came with it; I made it up on my own. But my tummy and my ankles feel tired afterward so I think it does something. I'll know whether it's good or bad if I find myself walking down the trail 3 months from now with my belly protruding and my ankles turned in.

I've also done a 4 mile walk each Sunday morning for the past two Sundays. I feel pretty good after those. I wish I could do that every day; that's how I lost 40+ lbs 9 years ago and got fit enough to run a marathon. I love to walk; always have for as long as I can remember. I could go for hours if I had enough time But I just don't have an hour of daylight every day anymore plus the time it takes for me to drive somewhere safe to walk and then drive back. (We have no sidewalks in our neighbourhood and the idiots that insist on driving their maseratis and ferraris at 55 mph down the sloped curvy 35-mph street keep crashing their cars into either our ditch so walking on the shoulder wouldn't be prudent.)

While those are fairly impressive feats, the one I am really feeling good about is that for 2 days in a row I have NOT indulged in a single chocolate chip cookie.

The Cow Chip franchise that opened in our cafeteria at the beginning of the calendar year has been the bane of my existence. They smell so good, and they taste even better and who doesn't need a nice, warm, chocolate-chip hug in the middle of a long stressful day? Only I wouldn't eat just one. I'd usually eat 2 or 3. But for two days in a row I have resisted the urge, choosing instead to pace the halls or take a bathroom break whenever I feel a need for a cookie coming on. Today was a bit easier because I also forgot my card key at home, and running over to the cafeteria building's main lobby and asking the receptionist to buzz me in just so I could get my cookie fix seemed a little excessive, even for me. So it's not like my willpower is getting stronger, but I'll take any help I get at this point, even if it is unintentional.

I'm taking care of other stuff too, but that's for neither here nor there for now.

So a round of applause for me - for my 3 days of exercise, 2 days of cookie-resistance, and at least for now some amount of determination to try and make it all stick this time.

For the record

• Sunday July 13 - 4 mile walk; no cookies


• Tuesday July 15 - 30 minute elliptical


• Wednesday July 16 - 30 minute elliptical; no cookies


• Thursday July 17 - 30 minute elliptical; no cookies

I will not step on an actual scale or measure my waist until AFTER I have made it through the next 4 weeks.

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Today's Random Aerobic Musing: Whose kitty was it?

This evening on my elliptical trainer I found myself bopping to "Kitty" by Presidents of the United States of America. I love that I have 6 hours of exercise music on my iPhone. I never know what I'm gonna hear next, and chances are I haven't listed to it in months if not years. When I created my exercise playlist, I went through our collection of 500+ cds (most of which are Tim's... gotta love being married to someone in the sound / entertainment industry :-)) and would listen to 5 second clips. If they were fast and boppin' they made the cut. If they weren't they didn't. Easy criteria.

Heather's "exercise song of the day" award goes out to the Presidents for "Kitty". Silly but hilarious song. And only because it's just so true. and because not only are the lyrics goofy, I really loved the backup singing too. Brilliant. Although if it'd been me, I'd have probably caved and let the thing come inside anyway.

Unfortunately I can't find a video of it online. Although found plenty of homemade "movies" that use it as the music backdrop for their "Americas Funniest Animal" video rejects. But you do gotta love people who love their pets, I guess :-)

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Random aerobic musings: What was the inspiration for Barenaked Ladies' "Another Postcard"?

Since my birthday, I've been using my new elliptical trainer almost daily. Each time I do, I listen to 40 more minutes of my 6 1/2 hour long exercise music playlist on my iPhone. I selected most of the songs that are in my playlist for their tempo and instrumentals. Fast, strong beat, good for high intensity cardio. I try and choose ones that also have strong, upbeat and motivating lyrics when I can, but mostly it's about the music and the rhythm because so few songs with that tempo have any kind of intelligent lyrics :-) . Some of the words to these songs are in fact downright stupid (Black Eyed Peas are a good group that fall into this category. Great rhythm and sound. Totally moronic lyrics. But I'm not usually concentrating on the words when I'm at my peak workout intensity with my heart racing 165+ bpm with sweat pouring from my forehead and wrists. Does anyone else sweat from their wrists when they work out? But that's another musing entirely). It's actually quite an array of artists that I have on my iPhone exercise playlist:

AC/DC; Alanis Morrisette; Alice in Chains; B-52's; Barenaked Ladies; Beastie Boys; Beautiful People; Beck; Big Bad Voodoo Daddy; Black Eyed Peas; Blink 182; Brazilian Girls; Bush; Cake; Chemical Brothers; The Clash; Creed; Daughtry; David Byrne; Disturbed; Duran Duran; Everclear; Fatboy Slim; Feist; Foo Fighters; Foreigner; God is an Astronaut; Gorillas; India Arie; INXS; Johnny Cash; Keyshia Cole; Kidd Rock; Kiss; Lenny Kravitz; Lynyrd Skynyrd; Madonna; Matchbox 20; Metallica; Moby; New Order; Offspring; One Way; Pearl Jam; Pink; the Police; Presidents of the United States; Queen; the Rolling Stones; Talking Heads; U2; Wham!; the White Stripes; Wild Cherry

anyway, As I started my cool-down phase, Barenaked Ladies' "Another Postcard" started playing and as I listened to the words in earnest as my heart rate gradually slowed, I had to wonder what the inspiration was for a song about getting a bunch of postcards featuring chimpanzees engaged in various touristy poses and activities. Did it actually happen? Who sends people postcards of chimapanzees? Did they all come from one small group of inner circle friends as part of a running inside joke or tradition or were they coincidentally the main subject from a wide variety of friends and acquaintences? Did the receiver really like chimps? It's a great set of lyrics :-)

Well, according to wikipedia, the place I trust to reliably answer my most random musings, says the song was inspired when a neighbour of Page's sent a postcard depicting a chimpanzee to one of Page's children.

I also found a link to the video, which totally rocks as does everything by Barenaked Ladies. And so, it is with great pleasure, that I bring to you "Another Postcard" by Barenaked Ladies. Enjoy. And don't forget to listen to the words too!

Oh and hey... they's my people, eh!

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8 Mile

I finally got out for my 4 mile walk today, not having done so at all Mon - Thurs this week for various legitimate reasons.

To add a little spice to the walk I decided to start from a different point. And to try and make up a little for the lack of walking the rest of the week I decided I'd try and do an official 5 miles instead of 4.

I ended up walking just over 8 miles total. I walked what turned out to be just over a half mile from my car to my starting point, which was the 2 mile marker on the trail. I decided to make the 4 1/2 mile marker my turnaround point so that I'd get an "officially measured" 5 miles.

I passed the 2 1/2 mile marker, then the 3 mile marker, and then the 3 1/2 mile marker. And when I thought that I should be passing the 4 mile and 4 1/2 mile markers, I saw nothing. At first I thought maybe I was just a little off in my pace, or my estimation of distance, or my endurance due to the fact I hadn't walked since Saturday. But as the time went on and my feet started hurting a bit and my legs started getting that sore-in-a-good-way feeling I usually get around the 4 mile mark, I realized I must have passed it. But I pressed on, because I wanted an officially measured distance to be sure I hit my goal.

I finally got to a distance marker after what seemed like hours of walking (it was more than an hour, but I didn't know that at the time because I make it a rule to never check the time until the end of my walk) and was surprised to find it was the 5 1/2 mile marker. It'd been a while since I walked that part of the trail but then I recognized the surroundings and realized that indeed I had just walked 3 1/2 miles from my official starting point. And then realized that I had 3 1/2 miles to walk to get back to my official starting point. But I was kinda glad I had overshot my goal because it meant I'd get a longer walk in, as I really didn't have a choice (of course I did, but I love walking ;-)) but to walk back to where I had started.

I didn't estimate the distance from the 2 mile marker to my car until the last leg of my journey. When I got to the 2 mile marker I checked the time, found the fastest song on my MP3 player, and kicked up my pace to what I knew to be my 14-15 minute mile pace. It hurt, but WOW I felt good at the end when I reached my car, checked the time again and realized 11 minutes had passed, meaning the distance HAD to be a minumum of a 1/2 mile (to be conservative!), and that meant an extra mile on top of the official 7 I had completed!

I had walked 8 miles. Almost a third of a marathon. Not bad for an out-of-shape, 20-lbs-over-her-pre-pregnancy-weight mom of an 18-month-old.

I came home and stretched, and stretched, and stretched, and stretched, then downed a whole bottle of gatorade and a sandwich, took an hour nap, and then took an extra-hot 20-minute shower. My muscles definitely feel sore, but in a good way, not in a way that makes me think I'm going to be paying for my extra efforts all weekend. Same with my feet. I have one tiny blister on my 2nd toe on my left foot. But other than that, I feel great!

I also saw an otter, a heron, a variety of beautiful and exotic looking ducks, a hawk, and lots of pretty little birds with brightly-coloured wings that I've never seen before.

And now I think I'll go stretch some more!

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A bicycle built for two... or at least built for one plus a trailer

We woke up to a gorgeous, sunny, blue-skied morning this morning. and by hook or by crook I was going to get us out bike riding on the trail.

Let me start by saying it is NOT easy to do this alone. Tim was away overnight this weekend for work, so it's just been me and Baby Girl. And neither of us knew where the bike rack was, or my helmet, let alone had any of this stuff already been attached to the car.

So, I formulated a plan during her short 20 minute nap this morning. And when she woke up, I popped her into the Baby Bjorn (GOD I love that thang!) and we went to work.

First we cleaned out the car. You need to have seen the inside of my car - passenger, backseat, and trunk, to know just how much CRAP (and non-crap stuff) I had in there to be cleaned out. Let's just say I have a mom car. Yeah, if I was carting around quadruplets instead of one little tiny baby girl ;-) Anyway, we cleaned out the car.

Next we had to locate the bike rack. According to Tim it was, logically, "in the bike rack box". Ah, but the challenge was that no one knew where that box was. So Baby Girl's and my first mission began. Locate the bike rack box. We headed downstairs to search the 2000 square feet of unfinished basement for the bike rack box. And wouldn't you know, it was in the last place we looked (I always thought that was a dumb phrase; if you found something, why would you then continue looking for it?). It was in the storage room next to the mechanical room. Mission accomplished.

While we were down there I thought it prudent to also locate my bike helmet. Tim had said "It's in one of the duffle bags". We only have about a dozen of those, so I took us back to the room where I had seen several, and set to work unzipping them. I never did find the one containing my bike helmet but I did find my rollerblading helmet. It's a dorky helmet, so I looked like a doofus wearing it, but it protects my head and dammit I wanted to go biking with my daughter, not make a fashion statement (note to self: the two ARE related once she hits her teen years, otherwise she won't go with me, and even when she does I'll be required to keep at least 5 bicycle lengths behind her or ahead of her so got to get a nice looking helmet before then).

Helmet located. bike rack in box located. How to transport the both of them back upstairs with Baby Girl strapped to my chest and facing outwards? Simple. I put the helmet on my head, and since it was way more bulky than heavy I carried the box on my helmet with my two arms supporting it (have I mentioned how much I LOVE our baby bjorn?) And made my way upstairs and out to the car.

Then we went back and got the bike, which thankfuly was just on the deck where Tim had left it.We rolled it to the car.

Next we had to go back in the house to get the trailer and hitch for the bike. We knew where that was, and easily rolled it to the car even as Baby Girl continued to hang out in her Baby Bjorn. Worthy of note is that I had taken care the night before after Baby Girl had gone to bed, to try uncollapsing it and setting it up, so I knew I could handle that part.

So now all I had to do was get the trailer in the car, get the bike rack mounted on the car, and get the bike mounted on the bike rack, all without leaving Baby Girl unattended, or stranding her in her carseat for hours on end. Oh, and get her diaper bag stowed(packing it was something else I had taken care of during her 20 minute nap as I was formulating the grand plan, get Baby Girl in her carseat, and then we'd be off.

Right. So first thing first. Well, actually, as it turned out, second thing first but it turned out to be the best solution anyway. I started by mounting the bike rack on the car.

This I could not do with Baby Girl strapped to my chest, so I secured her in her carseat in the car, and left the door open so she could hear and see me and vice versa, and I set to work.

Yeah. So I haven't ridden my bike since before I was pregnant. And that would also have been the last time I ever set up the bike rack. And that was all over 18 months ago now. Probably closer to 20. And the bike rack had been compacted to fit in the box, and I'd never had to deal with that before. So I had to refit and resize the bike rack to our trunk, and figure out where all the hookie things hook into to make it secure, and then pull everything tight, and then remember what orientation the bike went onto the little mounting bracket thingies, and all of that basically took longer than I had intended, and longer than Baby Girl had the patience for, and by the time I had the rack on the car and secure- (after MUCH swearing in my head) -ish Baby Girl was hungry. So I unstrapped her from her carseat and we took a bottle break.

After the bottle and diaper changing break she went back in the baby bjorn and we went back to work. With the bike rack fastened to the car, the next step was to load the trailer in the car. Aha. This I realized was where I probably should have swapped my first and second steps because after all the futzing I had to do with the straps on the bike rack and all the opening and closing I had to do of the trunk to secure the straps of the bike rack to the car, I was damned if I was going to open the trunk again and ruin all that work. So I crossed my fingers and closed my eyes and hoped with all my might that the trailer, when collapsed, would fit into the rear passenger seat.

I had to pull my seat forward, but it did. I got it in just far enough to know it was going to work, and then I popped Baby Girl back in her carseat and gave her some toys for her to occupy herself with. I maneuvered the trailer all the way into the car, along with the hitch, and then I went to work fastening the bike to the bike rack.

I had saved that part for last because I figured it wouldn't take much time. I was wrong. I couldn't remember how it mounted onto the rack brackets and so it took some more futzing and pulling the bike off and putting it back on before I finally had it secure-ish-ly mounted on the rack. And not a moment too soon, because Baby Girl was bored with Mommy's little bike show and wanted to hit the road.

So that's just what we did. I avoided the freeway, not feeling ENTIRELY ok with the rack or bike mounting (although I had thoroughly tested it before we left and it had held strong) and we wound our way over to Marymoore park.

I found us a parking spot in the shade and away from the other cars so we could take up lots of room putting everything together. I got Baby Girl out of her carvseat and into the baby bjorn (it's a good thing she loves it almost as much as I do) and proceeded to get everything off and out of the car and put together.

Thankfully this phase went much faster. I took the bike off the bike rack and wheeled it aside. I took the trailer and the hitch out of the car, and unfolded it and put it together. Fastened the hitch to the bike and did up all the safeties. I deposited Baby Girl's diaper bag in the rear compartment of the trailer. I then took Baby Girl out of the Baby Bjorn, and strapped her into the trailer. I put on my helmet and her helment, locked the car and stuck the key in the diaper bag, and then we were off! Finally!

Given the amount of trouble we had gone to, to make this happen, I was going to make the most of this. This wasn't going to be some measly 5 mile bikeride. I had a destination in mind. We went 15 miles total round trip on the bike. We rode 7 1/2 miles out on the trail where we stopped, had a snack, and played in the playground that I knew to be conveniently located on the trail there. Baby Girl had a blast. She played on the swings alone for at least an hour total, and we climbed up to the very top of the climbing tower and looked out on everyone down below, and we slid down the slide, and we picked grass and buttercups, and we watched the Dinner train go by and waved at it. And we played some more. Finally, after our 2nd snack and bottle (that's how much time had passed) I decided we needed to start heading back.

Baby Girl had done really well with her helmet on the way there; she only started fussing about a half mile from the end. There is no real need for her to wear the helmet given how she's secured in the trailer. That thing could roll upside down and her head would never touch the ground. But I want her to get used to wearing it, so she understands she needs to wear it when we go bike riding. But I could tell she was exhausted and likely to fall asleep so I cut her a break and stuffed it in the storage compartment on the way back so she could nap bare-headed. And she was out like a light not a half mile into our journey back.

She slept the entire way back. I have to say I'm not surprised since she was awake the entire way out just about, and played hard at the playground. Add the fact that it's actually a pretty comfy ride and it just seemed to make sense :-)

So the way back was pretty quiet. We got back to the car and the lack of motion woke her up (overall I could tell the trailer was a big hit; she did snooze a bit on the way there too but every time I stopped she would wake up and start crying until I started moving again). so I unlocked the car and popped her into the baby bjorn and set to work taking everything apart.

Once I had it all apart and the trailer collapsed and all was ready to load onto / into the car, I put her in her carseat (the overall goal in all of my plan was to minimize the amount of time she spent in the car seat not moving. She hates it when the car is not moving). I then remounted the bike on the rack (basically repeating the same struggles I had at home much to the amusement of a fellow cyclist who was sitting on the trunk of his ford explorer, sans bike rack because the bike can fit into a damn explorer upright without any problem) waiting for the rest of his party to return. Thankfully Baby Girl was occupied with her toys. I then shoved the trailer into the passenger seat, stuffed her diaper bag on the floor of the front seat, got out my keys and we were outta there!

We headed home, stopping at the PCC down the street, where we bought some organic whole wheat cheese and basil pizza for dinner, among other items we needed, and then came home. Where we played hard and cruised and had another bottle and fell asleep at 5 and stayed that way until 7pm.

Shortly after Baby Girl fell asleep it started to rain. So with baby monitor in hand I sprinted out to the car to at least roll up Baby Girl's window (she loves riding in the car with the window down on nice warm days) and bring the bike back up to the deck and under the tarp.

The trailer is still in the rear passenger seat and will probably stay there until after work tomorrow :-).

Yeah, it was damn near impossible to do the whole thing by myself. Sure, you see kids in trailers all the time with just one parent accompanying them. But I guarantee you this: They arrived in a Ford Explorer, and the kids are all capable of walking completely independantly and unassisted.

Anyway, here are a few videos taken during our 5 mile snack break. It was a long snack because it was very hard to focus on eating when there were so many bicycles and dogs and kids and rollerbladers whizzing by all the time. As you can tell in the videos. As usual, click on the image to view the video.

And here are the rest of the photos from our little adventure!

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My New Year Resolutions

I figure if I put them out here for everyone to see, so there's a possibility of being asked from time to time how they're going, it's extra incentive for me to stick to them.

1. work out at the gym at least once a week

2. go for a 4+ mile walk with Baby Girl at least twice a week

3. Eat salad for lunch at least 3 times a week.

4. Do 50 crunches every night before going to bed, no matter how tired I am.

5. Remember to take and refill my medication on time. Even though they are the lowest dose possible, I learned twice this week that when I don't take my happy pills, I'm not a very Happy Heather. I forgot to pick up my refill so today I was a tad erratic and emotional. Tim might suggest that it was more than a tad. :-(

My goal for the first 4 is to lose the last bit of extra stuff around my waist and tummy from my pregnancy. I know I will never be a size 4 again - my hips have changed permanently and that precludes me from ever getting a size 4 above my knees again. But a 6 should be achievable, if I do it right - eat right, exercise, etc. Might take me a while, but it's a new year resolution, so I've got all year, right?! :-)

Ok - speaking of that 5th one. Went to the doctor a few days ago for a follow-up to my post partum depression and to determine whether or not to start weaning off the anti-depressants. I like my doctor - she's normally very good. But I think she was having an off day. She asked me a bunch of standard questions and I answered them. She asked if she thought I was ready to start weaning and I said no - I had noticed that when I skipped a day I was really moody and erratic. She said that was surprising because the dose was so low. That I shouldn't really notice a difference. Lady, if I shouldn't really notice a difference, why did you put me on them in the first place? Not to mention, why is there a clear difference in my coping abilities and moods when I am taking them consistently? And I'm not the only one who notices the difference.

Whatever.

So - how am I doing?

I went for a 3.5 mile walk today with Baby Girl. We took the Jogging Stroller her Grandma got us out for its maiden voyage. It's a smooth ride and handles bumps great! Nice weight, easy to fold and unfold. Only problem I had with it is that it doesn't have power steering. Seriously - it was a real challenge because the front wheel doesn't pivot. And the stroller had a tendancy to veer to the left, so I was constantly course-correcting, which made for a sore right arm by the end of it, and sore wrists as well. It doesn't have enough storage room for the whole diaper bag, but I don't consider that a negative, since it would only make it heavier and harder to jog with which is counter to its purpose. However the steering thing did make it hard enough that I cut our walk short at 3.5 miles instead of the full 4. Plus my feet hurt because my running shoes need new insoles.

It was torrentially downpouring (can I say that? ;-)) the entire walk, so we also got to test out the special rain hood that we got for the jogging stroller. It's pretty darn cool, and worked perfectly. It fits over top of the stroller and has velcro fasteners to secure around the front wheel, the sides, and the handle bar so the entire stroller is encased in a see-through plastic shield, with vents for air circulation. I snuggled Baby Girl up in her blanket, did up the 5-point harness (a bonus; not all strollers have shoulder straps) and tossed in a couple of toys, and she was happy as a clam, and snug as a bug in a rug, and dry as a desert the entire walk. She even fell sound asleep as the rain poured down on the plastic, making rat-a-tat noises and leaving trails of raindrops along the sides, which I think she found rather comforting to listen to and mesmerizing to watch.

Tomorrow we will go for another walk. This time we'll test out the rain hood we bought for our regular stroller. That stroller has one-handed steering and front wheels that pivot, and although it doesn't handle bumps nearly as well, I think on the path we use, which is fairly smooth and flat, it will probably perform a little better than the jogging stroller. I think the jogging stroller will be perfect for more bumpy or rough road conditions (maybe Baby Girl and I can go "off roading" later ;-)). We'll see how it goes.

So... it's a start. We'll see how we do as the days and weeks progress!

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Oops, I did it again...

It's been a few days since we've been out for a walk, so Baby Girl and I packed up after her mid-morning "meal" and headed to the park. She stayed awake for almost the entire car ride there. I intended to do the usual 3 miles - 1.5 out and 1.5 back on the trail at the park, but somehow missed the 1.5 mile marker and found myself at the 2 just as I was starting to think that was the longest half mile I had ever walked ;-) So we inadvertently ended up doing 4 miles total. Not bad.

On a completely separate note, my friend Eileen and her husband John are coming to visit on Sunday! We haven't seen them since March. But it seems like longer as so much has happened. I can't wait for her to meet Baby Girl. I realized the other day that Eileen and I have known each other for exactly 20 years thius year. We met when we moved to Ottawa and I started grade 10 (yeah - I said "grade 10", not "tenth grade" ;-)). 20 years. Wow. That's amazing.

And to change the subject completely yet one more time, here is a picture of Baby Girl playing on her boppy this afternoon (we thought we'd try something new today ;-))

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These feet were made for walkin'

Ok.... maybe not those feet... not yet ;-)

Baby Girl and I have picked up where we left off July 12th before she was born, and are now walking 3 miles a day - at least that's what we walked yesterday and today (after watching the Seahawks lose :-().

Having her now eating on average every 3 hours instead of every 2 has opened up a whole new world of "freedom" to me - it means I can get in the car with her and drive to Bothell and walk for 3 miles on the trail and drive back and still get home with time to spare until her next feeding. It means I can go on a real shopping spree instead of sprinting to the grocery store (of course, these days we're just window shopping ;-)). It means I get to sleep for 2.5 hour stretches at night between feedings. It means I can read an entire magazine while soaking leisurely in the bathtub in the evening and not have to rush my "me" time in order to be ready for when she wakes up and is ready to eat. Ah... what luxury. Of course, she still throws us for a loop every once in a while. Like yesterday and this morning she's been a tad ravenous. But for the most part she's kinda keeping to this schedule.

Anyway - 3 miles ain't bad for 5 1/2 weeks postpartum, if I do say so myself. And it's nice getting out of the house and into the fresh air (in the shade; that's why I've been going to Bothell. It's got the shadiest part of the trail). It's helped that the weather's been cooler too.

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Going the extra mile...

Heh heh...

Chicago Marathon mistakenly added a mile (Associated Press)

"the race's course was mistakenly set at 27-point-two miles - a full mile longer than the traditional marathon distance".

"Mark Chilar, the race organizer, apologized for the mistake and blames the extended distance on some last-minute second-guessing and adjustments to the course."

Well hell.. you've already gone 26.2. What's another mile at that point, right? ;-) Yeah - don't go there. That last "point two" at the Disney marathon was probably the hardest distance I"ve ever run in my life, regardless of the happy, cuddly Disney characters lining the street cheering me on in the final feet of the race.

However it does remind me of the time my friend Jenn and I went running at Greenlake in downtown Seattle. We were actually in training for the Disney Marathon at the time - very early on in our training, mind you. we had only worked up to about 3 miles at that point. Greenlake has a 2.8 mile paved path completely around the lake, and a 3.2 mile gravel path around the edge of the park that surrounds the lake. Jenn and I were feeling ambitious so we opted fpr the 3.2 mile path - going "point two" beyond our longest run at that point ;-)

So we got there, and parked the car, and walked down to the path, and casually made note of our starting surroundings (which we thought wise, since we'd be running in a circle. We wouldn't want to overrun our starting point, now would we). We stretched and put on our headphones and adjusted the volume on our mp3 players, and off we went.

At one point we passed a Spud Fish and Chips restaurant. Not particularly noteworthy to me, since I don't eat fish. But I like to watch the scenery while I'm running.

We continued running. We were both starting to get a bit tired. We were thinking we had to be close to our starting point by now so we started paying closer attention to the street signs and houses as we ran by. Neither of us had a watch on so we had no idea how long we had been running. The path was not marked, so we had no idea how far we had gone. But it couldn't have been more than 3.2 miles since we hadn't seen our starting street name or passed any of the houses we had made note of when we started.

And that's when we saw Greenlake's second Spud Fish & Chips restaurant. Strange that there were two - maybe one served the east side of the lake and one the west? Although the lake isn't that big, so why people couldn't just walk or drive around was beyond me. Who knew. We pondered on that as we continued to run.

We were starting to get really tired at this point. The music was no longer distracting. I wanted to find our starting point and get back to the car and have some water and a snack. How long had we been running? How long can it possibly take to run 3.2 miles? Were we both that out of shape? It's only "point two" miles longer than last weekend's team run, and that had felt pretty good. Why was this feeling so much longer?

And then the thought started occurring to us that we had overrun the starting point. But we were paying such close attention! How could that have happened? It couldn't have. We must be close. Maybe it was just a bad running day and it felt longer than it was. No more distractions. Time to focus. Must get back to starting point. Must find car.

So eventually we started recognizing the surroundings. Oddly enough we both thought we might have seen them before. At this point there may have been a niggling little thought in the back of our heads that we had actually run around the lake twice. But we both ignored it. It couldn't be. We stretched, drank our water, got back in the car and headed home.

But at our respective homes the thought persisted. So Jenn and I independantly did a little research... and do you know what we found? There is only one Spud Fish & Chips at Greenlake. We had run around Greenlake twice. That's 6.4 miles, when we had only set out to do 3.2, and our longest run to date had been 3. We must have gotten back to the starting point faster than we had expected, while we were still absorbed in our running rhythm and the music and the distracting lake scenery - before we started paying attention and looking at the street names. Needless to say we both felt a) quite sheepishly foolish ("Hey look! There are two Spud Fish & Chips at Greenlake! How odd"... "Yeah, how odd!") but at the same time b) quite exhilerated and proud of ourselves - we had just run 6.4 miles! That's over twice our longest run to date in training! We rock!

The following Saturday when we met with our Train to End Stroke Team for our usual team run, the goal was 4 miles. And Jenn and I breezed through it effortlessly ;-)

Anyway - kudos to everyone who finished the Chicago Marathon - way to go the extra mile! :-)

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Forest Magic

There is a little trail near our house. It's a mile end-to-end and meanders through a forest. I walk it every day. 2 miles round-trip. It takes me longer to walk it now than it used to of course, but I keep a good pace. I think Baby Girl enjoys it too. She's usually pretty calm and quiet after one of my walks.

On sunny days the trail and the park at the end are filled with dogs and kids and parents. Today was slightly cloudy and a little damp, having rained earlier this morning, so it wasn't too crowded but there was still some activity. I was fairly oblivious to it all though, strolling along the trail deeply immersed in my favourite pasttime on these walks: thinking up middle names for Baby Girl :-)

As I followed the trail into the woods, mulling over names and themes (names of great canadian women; names of our favourite places; names of beloved family members; etc) I came across the little clearing that marks the half-way point of the trail. As I did so, the clouds that were intent on blocking the sun made a small opening. Sunshine came streaming through the late spring foliage in the branches above me, casting a golden-green cone of light onto my patch of forest and pathway. I stopped and looked up, savouring the subtle warmth of the filtered sun on my face and admiring the light playing on the leaves. And there half way to the top of the cone sat an owl. He was quietly surveying everything below him in the branches and along the path, including me. I stared at the owl. The owl stared back and blinked once. A brilliant blue Jay hopped into a tree opposite and stared at us both, while chattering away. Other little birds twittered and chirped in the higher branches. Leaves rustled in a slight breeze. But there were no other sounds. The owl was huge - definitely a mature adult. As I watched he turned his head slowly as sounds from further within the forest caught his attention. Sounds I couldn't hear. But he always returned his gaze to me.

I have always thought of owls as magical creatures. Their strange and unique appearance, the way they move their head so slowly and evenly, and yet so calculating. Their piercing eyes, their calm demeanour. And yet with that calmness there is also a sense of majesty and power. And mystery.

I stood there watching the owl watching me for several minutes, half expecting some dog or person to come bounding down the trail, ending the moment. But no one came. It was very peaceful. When my neck started to ache, and my lower back and pregnant belly started to feel uncomfortable, and a cloud moved in obscuring the sun, I finally said my goodbyes and moved on.

As I continued on my way I saw a woman with two dogs approaching. I thought about telling the woman about the owl. As she got closer, I smiled. She stared at me and barked at her dogs sniffing at a rotting log to "leave it, and come on". I didn't say anything. I looked back after she passed to see if she noticed the owl above her, but she didn't. Neither did her dogs. The owl was watching them though. The owl was my secret.

Pavlov's Ducks

I went for one of my 7 mile walks along the trail today. "Chicken Landing" was my turnaround point. As the name implies, there is generally guaranteed to be various "wild" fowl roaming about, pecking and grooming and chasing and flapping and feeding on whatever the human passersby throw in their direction. Today the birds were out en masse. I saw a few chickens, some of those cool polka-dotted bird things, and a whole lotta ducks. Most of the ducks were napping in the sunshine, seemingly oblivious to my presence. Until I crouched down to the ground (in an attempt to take their pictures). As soon as I did this, as a group, they came to their feet and slowly started to waddle over and surround me. I say "slowly" but they were really waddling as fast as they could. As soon as the last duck had closed the circle that had formed around me,they all turned towards me and stood there looking at me expectantly in silence. Not moving. Just waiting.

If the waddling hadn't been so funny to watch, I would have thought the whole thing was a bit eerie.

I finally stood up, and as I shuffled forward, quietly apologizing for my lack of foresight in bringing no appropriate duck food with me, they waddled out of my way and went back over to their grassy hill to continue their nap. If I didn't know any better, I'd say they looked rather dejected.

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Fall Colours at the Arboretum

Every year around this time, when the leaves on the trees are turning colour, I always say we should go take a walk through the arboretum and look at the trees. And every year for some reason or other we just never get around to it.

Today I went. It was well worth it. My photos don't really do the trees and colours justice, but they can at least give you an idea.

This is most definitely my favourite time of year. A perfect day for me is a bright sunny blue sky with a few scattered fluffy white clouds drifting high above; The leaves have turned colours but the trees are not bare yet; it's cold and breezy enough to wear a nice warm sweater outside but not need a coat, and my cheeks get a little red but my fingers and toes aren't frozen. And that's just what I got today!

A lovely morning along the trail

We were supposed to start demolition of the double-wide today. Alas, it was not to be. Some sort of scheduling snafu with the guy who was supposed to do the demolishing. It's been rescheduled for tomorrow.

We didn't know that, however, when the alarm went off at 6:30am this morning. Neither Tim nor I had to work today. Tim has the day off, and I'm still on vacation. The reason for getting up early was to get to the property first thing so we would be able to watch the first push of the dozer into the building.

I decided I would bike out there. It's about 17 or 18 miles door-to-door. There's a bitch of a hill though (at least it is for me) in between the trail and the property that always kills me. But it's still a nice ride.

Tim decided to drive, so he'd get there faster :-).

Tim left, and I headed out with my bike. I expected to see a blue heron on the way (I always do) so this time I came prepared with my camera. In the end, I ended up seeing 4!!! Got pictures of 3 of them (although not very close) and the 4th flew away before I could stop my bike. All of them were out trolling for breakfast. Wish Tim had been with me. He would have taken better pictures :-).

It was at the first heron stop that I saw that Tim had called my cell. Quite by accident, actually. My bike fell over while I was watching the heron, and the contents of my bike pack spilled all over the trail. I noticed when I retrieved my cell phone that I had missed his call so I called him back. That's when I learned there would be no demo today. Well - at least I didn't have to worry about the killer hill :-). But it was such a nice morning, I decided I'd keep going and ended up biking all the way to the trail head and back.

A few more pictures from the trail.

2004 National Capital Marathon

Back in May, Tim and I went to visit my sister, Sarah, in Ottawa. It so happened the weekend we picked to visit was the National Capital Marathon weekend.

When I was in highschool I remember my friends and I volunteering to be a water-hander-outer along the marathon route. We'd get up early and meet at the water station, and we'd be given these light yellow "Ottawa Citizen" (the local newspaper) t-shirts to wear, and we'd spend the morning setting up the tables and pouring water into paper cups while we waited for the marathon to start.

Back then, I remember they had the wheelchair, and the running race, but I don't remember there being an inline skate race. Heck - I don't remember there being inline skates, period, at the time ;-)

Well, now they have an inline skating half-marathon and full marathon, in addition to the regular walking/running marathon and half-marathon races, and the wheelchair race.

I never would have guessed back then in highschool, while I was pouring water into those paper cups, that I'd ever be entered into one of the National Capital race day events. If you read my 2003 Disney Marathon entry, you'll recall that I really wasn't much of an athlete in highschool. Yet - here we were in Ottawa, me with my inline skates, all set to race 14 miles...er... excuse me... 21 km (afterall, we were in CANADA) on what I believe was the exact same loop along which I had handed out water oh those many years ago ;-)

I hadn't actually planned on racing. When we told my sister we were coming over for a long weekend, she had mentioned she was entered into the race that same weekend and we told her we'd come watch and cheer her on! She casually suggested I bring my blades and enter too, but I declined. However a week before we were scheduled to leave, I called her up and she changed my mind :-)

I hadn't been actively training for the event... in fact, at that point I had been somewhat lax in my workout routine. I knew I'd be able to finish it - I'd been skating about half the distance - 7 miles - once a week with friends. But I didn't actually train or prepare for it and I was no where near the same physical condition I was in when I ran the Disney marathon.

My sister, on the other hand, had been training :-) So I told her I'd enter and skate with her if she promised not to let me slow her down. She promised, and was true to her word :-) I'm so proud of her! Way to go Sarah ;-). Sarah finished before me - with a race time of 1:02 after getting off to a great start and managing to get out ahead of the crowds right away, while I lagged behind trying to figure out how to pass the giggling group of little teenage girls in tight jeans who were skating in front of me. There were also a lot of hills, which slowed me down on the last half of the course. My finish time was 1:27. Not great - but I kept reminding myself I hadn't been training for it (or for anything for that matter).

We were both lapped by the full marathon in-line skaters though. That was slightly demoralizing:-) I think they finished the full marathon in just under an hour. Scared me half to death when they whizzed by us. As they approached from behind they sounded like an angry swarm of bees, getting progressively louder, and then suddenly, they were past us. I swear I felt a breeze as they went by, but all I saw was a blur of technicoloured spandex, and they were gone.

BUT - I finished the race, without incident and feeling great - no soreness or tiredness (in fact, was ready for some sight seeing after we showered and had some breakfast at the hotel). And most importantly - I got my finish medal :-) Now I have two medals as evidence of my athleticism! One for Disney and one for this. It's amazing what a little piece of cheap metal on a ribbon can do to make you feel like a true athlete. In fact, I've since made myself a promise. I will only enter events in which I get a medal at the end. No t-shirts or posters or certificates as prizes. I want a medal. Hung around my neck by one of those medal-hander-outers at the end of the race. It feels so... Olympian! ;-)

As with the Disney race, there were photographers stationed at several points throughout the course, snapping pictures of all of the participants as they wheeled, walked, ran, or skated their way along the route. And as usual, after the event they sent out a link where you can search (by bib number) for and order photos of yourself... for an exorbitant amount of money. Which I of course shelled out. I just got them in the mail on Friday, so here they are - photos of me during the race :-)

Check out Tim's Ottawa photos on crappymusic.comfor more pictures taken during our visit to my other Nation's Capital.

2004 National Capital Marathon

Back in May, Tim and I went to visit my sister, Sarah, in Ottawa. It so happened the weekend we picked to visit was the National Capital Marathon weekend.

When I was in highschool I remember my friends and I volunteering to be a water-hander-outer along the marathon route. We'd get up early and meet at the water station, and we'd be given these light yellow "Ottawa Citizen" (the local newspaper) t-shirts to wear, and we'd spend the morning setting up the tables and pouring water into paper cups while we waited for the marathon to start.

Back then, I remember they had the wheelchair, and the running race, but I don't remember there being an inline skate race. Heck - I don't remember there being inline skates, period, at the time ;-)

Well, now they have an inline skating half-marathon and full marathon, in addition to the regular walking/running marathon and half-marathon races, and the wheelchair race.

I never would have guessed back then in highschool, while I was pouring water into those paper cups, that I'd ever be entered into one of the National Capital race day events. If you read my 2003 Disney Marathon entry, you'll recall that I really wasn't much of an athlete in highschool. Yet - here we were in Ottawa, me with my inline skates, all set to race 14 miles...er... excuse me... 21 km (afterall, we were in CANADA) on what I believe was the exact same loop along which I had handed out water oh those many years ago ;-)

I hadn't actually planned on racing. When we told my sister we were coming over for a long weekend, she had mentioned she was entered into the race that same weekend and we told her we'd come watch and cheer her on! She casually suggested I bring my blades and enter too, but I declined. However a week before we were scheduled to leave, I called her up and she changed my mind :-)

I hadn't been actively training for the event... in fact, at that point I had been somewhat lax in my workout routine. I knew I'd be able to finish it - I'd been skating about half the distance - 7 miles - once a week with friends. But I didn't actually train or prepare for it and I was no where near the same physical condition I was in when I ran the Disney marathon.

My sister, on the other hand, had been training :-) So I told her I'd enter and skate with her if she promised not to let me slow her down. She promised, and was true to her word :-) I'm so proud of her! Way to go Sarah ;-). Sarah finished before me - with a race time of 1:02 after getting off to a great start and managing to get out ahead of the crowds right away, while I lagged behind trying to figure out how to pass the giggling group of little teenage girls in tight jeans who were skating in front of me. There were also a lot of hills, which slowed me down on the last half of the course. My finish time was 1:27. Not great - but I kept reminding myself I hadn't been training for it (or for anything for that matter).

We were both lapped by the full marathon in-line skaters though. That was slightly demoralizing:-) I think they finished the full marathon in just under an hour. Scared me half to death when they whizzed by us. As they approached from behind they sounded like an angry swarm of bees, getting progressively louder, and then suddenly, they were past us. I swear I felt a breeze as they went by, but all I saw was a blur of technicoloured spandex, and they were gone.

BUT - I finished the race, without incident and feeling great - no soreness or tiredness (in fact, was ready for some sight seeing after we showered and had some breakfast at the hotel). And most importantly - I got my finish medal :-) Now I have two medals as evidence of my athleticism! One for Disney and one for this. It's amazing what a little piece of cheap metal on a ribbon can do to make you feel like a true athlete. In fact, I've since made myself a promise. I will only enter events in which I get a medal at the end. No t-shirts or posters or certificates as prizes. I want a medal. Hung around my neck by one of those medal-hander-outers at the end of the race. It feels so... Olympian! ;-)

As with the Disney race, there were photographers stationed at several points throughout the course, snapping pictures of all of the participants as they wheeled, walked, ran, or skated their way along the route. And as usual, after the event they sent out a link where you can search (by bib number) for and order photos of yourself... for an exorbitant amount of money. Which I of course shelled out. I just got them in the mail on Friday, so here they are - photos of me during the race :-)

Check out Tim's Ottawa photos on crappymusic.comfor more pictures taken during our visit to my other Nation's Capital.

My First Marathon - Jan 12th 2003

I ran my first marathon - 26.2 miles - on January 12th 2003

I use the qualifier "first" because it is entirely conceivable that I will run another someday. I'm loosely targeting the 2005 Walt Disney Marathon as my next full marathon... we shall see :-)

The tale begins in June of 2002 when, as I was home sick, a pamphlet arrived in my mail advertising the American Stroke Association's "Train to End Stroke". (You should know that a number of fairly significant decisions have I made while at home sick after receiving an unsolicited phone call, house call, or mail. Our security system, for example - signed up for free installation after answering the door to an ADT salesman while home sick. Our replacement of all of our single-pane metal windows with double-pane insulated top-of-the-line vinyl windows? Decided after answering a phone call from an Andersen Windows salesperson while home sick. The marathon? Decided after reading a pamphlet I received in the marathon... while home sick. I have regretted none of these decisions, and they all have turned out QUITE well, I must say. An equal number (if not more) of my significant decisions have been made while completely healthy, so I'm not terribly worried. But I find it an interesting phenomenon, none the less. :-)

I received this pamphlet in the mail in June of 2002. I have no idea how it is that I got on their mailing list. I don't believe I had made a donation to them previously. In fact, I don't think *I* was on their mailing list, rather "current resident" for my house is how the pamphlet was addressed. At any rate, I opened it, and read it, and by the time I finished I was convinced that I could walk a full marathon without a problem, that it was a good cause, and that it would be a lot of fun to go to Jamaica.

Hmm... you're scrolling up to the top of the page, re-reading that first sentence, and thinking "Hey - what's this walk a marathon in Jamaica thing? i thought you ran a marathon in Florida". I have to admit - running had not been my original plan. And, I had thought of the two destinations (Walt Disney, or Jamaica) that Jamaica would be the more fun (certainly more exotic).

If any of you knew me in high school, and more precisely, had the misfortune to share gym class with me in high school, you'll remember from those days that a runner (or any other kind of athlete), I was not. I was one of those students in high school who hated gym class more than anything else because it brought down my grade point average. I was NOT one of those girls who would fake her period to get out of gym class - I'd grit my teeth and get through it. But I did NOT enjoy it. Any aspect of it. I did not enjoy getting beat across the legs with a broomball stick in the winter. I did not enjoy playing volleyball in gym class and getting glared at by my team mates every time I missed a volley. I did not enjoy running the laps around the track and feeling like my teeth were going to fall out . I did not enjoy falling behind the pack while cross country skiing. I definitely did not enjoy having 5 minutes to to get out of my stinky sweaty gym clothes, redo my hair (Remember - I went to high school in the eighties - there was a lot of hair spray involved) stuff my bag in my locker, collect my books, and run to class. And, perhaps more than anything, I did NOT enjoy not being the best (or even being average) in gym class.

But, as with all stories on this web site, I digress :-)

I looked up the ASA web site to find out when and where the information meetings for our area were being held so that I could learn more about this marathon. I found an information session scheduled for July in Bellevue and immediately signed up. I then thought it might be fun if I could find someone to do the marathon with so I called my friend Jenn, told her all about it, and she signed up for the information session too.

It was Jenn who set us on the path of running the full marathon. Her reasoning was twofold - 1) that if we're going to go to the trouble of training for a marathon we might as well run the damn thing and 2) if we ran it, it'd be over with quicker (she had done the math to back this up - calculating precisely how much time it would take us to walk it vs run it). I could hardly argue with such logic, so I agreed - let's run it.

At the information session we learned about how much money we had to raise in order to qualify for The marathon (I don't remember the exact totals), learned about how we would be trained, and we heard from some stroke survivors - which I found truly inspirational. By the end of it there was no doubt in my mind that I was going to do this.

We ended up signing up for the Jamaica marathon and over the coming weeks attended our first preparation session where we met the rest of the Seattle-Tacoma "Train To End Stroke" (TTES) team and our coaches, received our training schedules and started learning about equipment, nutrition, training, and fundraising.

Thanks to the generous contributions of my co-workers, friends, and family, and to the charitable donation matching program of the company I work for, I was able to raise the necessary minimum and then some quite early on in the program, which really helped to put my mind at ease and allow me to focus on the physical and mental preparation, and not worry about fundraising the whole time (thank you, all of you, who donated!)

Starting Saturday August 2nd 2002, the team met every saturday at a different point along the burke-gilman trail for our weekly "long run". They didn't start out very long - I think my first run was 3 miles - and then they incremented by a mile each week until we got to 20 miles (early december), after which we started backing off 1-2 miles per week. Prior to our first run, the longest I had ever run was a mile, and that was back in highschool. And I hated it then. I wasn't sure what to expect for this 3-mile run. I was in pretty good shape - had been doing high impact aerobics and 4-mile walks almost every day for the 2 1/2 years prior to starting the training for the marathon. But I had never really put myself to the "test" to see just what all that walking and aerobic activity had done for my cardiovascular system. I still had images of myself at the end of the 4-lap mile run we'd do in gym class, out of breath, lungs hurting and gums stinging. Let me tell you - that first 3 mile run we did? It was a BREEZE! I was SO excited. At the end of the run I was feeling GREAT! Energized. No sore lungs or gums. No out-of-breathness. All that exercise I'd been doing for the prior 2 years actually WORKED! I was FIT! Even more fit than I was in high school (which wasn't all that fit I'm thinking now ;-)). I really felt like I might just be able to run 26.2 miles! Woohoo!

And that was how I felt every saturday just about, up to and including our 10 mile run. I hit a bit of a hiccup on the 12 mile run, but then sailed through the 14-mile run the following week. 16 was tough, but 18 was a tad bit easier... and I was finding throughout that the amount of exercise and my eating habits for the week played a fairly significant role on our "long run" saturdays... if I worked out on Friday, I'd perform poorly on Saturday. So I made Fridays my day off. If I ate red meat the night before, I felt more sluggish so I'd usually have pasta or chicken friday nights for dinner. There was one week where I had taken the week off from work. And I was so excited because I planned to work out every day (except friday)! I roller-bladed 13 miles on monday; I went for a 6 mile run on tuesday; I worked out for an hour and a half on wednesday and thursday alternating between weights and the cardio machine. I took friday off. But saturday - the day of our 12 mile run - I was exhausted. I ended up walking about 4 of those miles and realized that even though I had taken Friday off, I was still recovering from the rest of the week. I was a total slug that day.

It was really quite an interesting experience to put my mind and body through these paces every week while training. Some weeks were good weeks, and some weeks were bad. And I learned that even careful attention to nutrition and training schedules, etc. doesn't guarantee a good run on saturday morning. Sometimes you just have bad runs. Maybe it's stress, maybe it's lack of sleep (or too much sleep), and maybe it's boredom or lack of inspiration some days. But I got through them all, and the feeling of personal accomplishment after each run (because each run I did became the furthest I had ever run as it was always at least a mile more than the previous week) was like nothing I had ever experienced before.

Amazingly enough (especially for Seattle), it rained only one Saturday morning the entire time we were training (August 2nd - end of december). It got cold towards the end of the year, and it rained many other days, of course. But we only ran in the rain once on a Saturday that whole time!

The Jamaica marathon was scheduled to happen in December 2002. the Walt Disney marathon was scheduled for January 2003. The decision to run in the Walt Disney marathon, as fate would have it, was a decision made for me and not by me. While on one of our Saturday runs in October 2002 I fell off the running trail and severely sprained my ankle. I want to point out that the reason I fell off the trail was because I was attempting to avoid a large flock of cyclists who were coming up behind me at what sounded like an alarming speed. I moved over to the right to make room and they swarmed past me - they sounded like angry bees. There were so many of them and the noise was so startling that I lost my footing, and rolled onto my ankle and off the trail. I was in excruciating pain and within seconds my ankle had swollen up to the size of a watermelon. The cyclists didn't stop. Even when I shrieked, fell, and started crying. But a number of very kind and concerned pedestrians did, and tried to help. One of the runners on my team also came by and ran ahead to let the coach know where I was. I ended up having to walk to the nearest road intersection to be picked up. I was miserable. I was unable to train for weeks, and there was no way I was going to be ready to run a full marathon in December, so I worked it out with our coordinator to switch to the Disney Marathon in January. Someone was looking out for me up there because in retrospect I think it was probably the more fun of the two and the better of the two for a first time runner like me. Everything happens for a reason :-) I had a great physical therapist who got me back up and walking (and then running) and eventually I worked my way back up to where the team was at that was preparing for the Walt Disney Marathon.

Before I knew it, it was December. December 2002 was a pretty cool month, and a pretty busy one! We closed on our property (5.6 acres that is the site of our future dream house!) on December 12th that year. And Tim proposed that same night (obviously, I said yes ;-)). My birthday was on the 13th of December. My parents arrived around the 16th or 17th, and my Sister a couple of days later. We had Christmas, I went dress shopping with my mom and sister for my wedding dress and brides maids dresses, we hired a wedding consultant, Celebrated new years. Oh - and I worked out and trained and continued getting ready for the marathon in January ;-).

Before we knew it, the time had come to head to Florida! The marathon was on Saturday the 12th. We arrived Thursday morning, I believe. I spent Thurs and Fri registering, getting my number and my shoe chip (that is what determines your official time), browsing through the sports & fitness exhibition, and generally trying to relax before the big day.

We stayed at the Animal Kingdom Lodge - it was FANTASTIC! What a great hotel! Had a lot of fun walking through the grounds and watching the giraffes and rhinos and elephants and gazelles and exotic birds going about their business all around the hotel.

The night before the marathon, ASA held a pasta party for the entire ASA Train To End Stroke team - which was a few thousand I think. Teams from cities all across the US. Great food and a lot of fun, if slightly overshadowed by some nervousness and anxiety for the big day.

We were supposed to be at the starting line by 6:00 the next morning. Buses were coming to pick us up at our hotel at 5:00. Which meant I wanted to be up by about 4:15am. Which meant I wanted to get to sleep around 7:30pm! We left the pasta party early, headed back to the hotel, and I got everything ready for the morning - laid out my running clothes, after-marathon-clothes & bag (they let you bring a bag that they store for you. One of the BEST tips I got from our coach was to put a pair of sandals in your bag (along with fresh socks, pants, shirt, couple of apples, gatorade, towel, brush/comb), set out my breakfast which consisted of 2 energy bars, gatorade, and an apple for the bus ride (I had discovered during training that having gatorade and a couple of energy bars for breakfast was the perfect way to start off a long run day for me. Everyone is different, but this worked for me). And then I climbed into bed.

As luck would have it (for Tim), there was a football game or baseball game or something on tv to keep him occupied. He was very sweetly watching it at very low volume but it proved to be enough of a distraction that I wasn't able to fall asleep. Tim took my not-so-discrete tossing & turning and mumbling as a hint, and headed down to the bar to watch the rest of the game :-) When he came back up I still wasn't entirely asleep, but close enough.

We had called the front desk for a wakeup call at 4:15. The phone was on Tim's side of the bed. So at promptly 4:15 when the phone rang and woke me from a very very deep sleep, I bolted upright and reached over Tim to make a grab at the phone. However in my half-asleep-but-startled-awake state, I neglected to reach over Tim and ended up punching him in the eye. Really hard. That woke him up pretty fast.

Feeling really bad, and after apologizing profusely and trying to make his eye better, I finally scrambled around Tim and answered the still-ringing phone.

I had forgotten we were in Disney World. I answered the phone expecting a concierge-like voice to tell me that it was my 4:15 wake up call. Instead I got Mickey Mouse, telling me to "Rise and Shine" in that chipper Mickey voice of his. It was perfect :-) This was going to be fun!

I showered (have to start the day off with a shower!), got dressed (2 layers; it was in the mid 30s around 5am), ate my breakfast, and headed down stairs.

Tim went back to bed for a couple of hours before heading over to the park so that he could watch the marathon and look for me :-)

The bus was late getting there, which added to everyone's nervousness. But they finally arrived and took us to the marathon starting point. From there we checked our bags and walked out to our "corral". Because most of us were amateur runners, we were in one of the last corrals which was a good mile and a half walk from the starting line, I swear. The faster you are (using official times from other official marathons) the closer to the start line your corral is. This is so the slow people don't trip up the fast people. Makes sense. A couple of more experienced runners on our team decided to go to a closer corral. I went to the one I was assigned to. I think it was "K". Then proceeded to warm up with other members of the team that I was with, stretching, etc. They were playing peppy music on huge speakers all along the starting line, and every once in a while goofy or mickey or minnie or donald or daisy would talk to us or to each other about the marathon and how exciting it was, and how cool we all were, and what great athletes we all were. Sounds cheesy, but it worked! I was feeling excited, and healthy and ready (if still a bit nervous!!!) And finally - the countdown started. Mickey and Minnie and the gang started counting down, and so did the rest of us, and then with a blaze of fireworks and crescendo of music we were off! Now, there were about 18-22 thousand people there. So we started off at a slow walk, which gradually turned into a brisk walk, which gradually turned into a slow trot, and then a slow jog and eventually we were almost up to normal marathon running speed - but it took some time

How to describe the marathon itself? There are no words! But I'll see what I can do.

We started running in the dark - it was 6:30 and just above freezing. But I barely noticed. The first part of the route took us through Epcot Center and was truly inspiring and energizing. They had all of the buildings lit up - coloured lights everywhere, and all kinds of disney-esque music from all over the world blaring through speakers that lined the running path. It was so cool! Really set us off on the right pace.

26.2 miles is a long way to run and it is impossible to not have to stop to go to the bathroom along the way. the course is prepared for that with port-o-potties at every other mile marker, but 21,000 people is a lot of people to compete with for the dozen or so bathrooms they had at each location. And when you gotta go, you gotta go. Especially given how much liquids I had been consuming over the last week in preparation for the big day. So it was just shortly after the start of the marathon that I learned the secret to marathon bathroom breaking from those who had clearly been-here-done-that before me. In retrospect it is actually quite an entertaining sight - marathon countdown ends, race start is signalled, and everyone starts to run... straight towards the woods off to the right of the running path, guys dropping their running trousers to take a leak, women squatting next to or behind a bush. En mass I swear, hundreds of runners made a break for the tree line within 5 minutes of the start, and there was a steady stream of back and forth of this for the first 5 miles I kid you not. And if you thought yourself above all that and resolutely determined to make it to the port-a-potties at the next mile marker to pee in dignity, you only stood in one of those lines once before casting aside your inhibitions and squatting in the tree line with the rest of them.

For the first 9 miles, I had to pee non-stop. It's not a very glamourous image, is it? Marathon running is not glamourous :-). Our coaches told us to expect that we'd have to constantly "go" for the first few miles of the marathon. I thought that constant feeling of my bladder about to explode would never end. It's bad enough when you've gotta go and you're stuck in traffic, or somewhere sitting down. Try having to pee and running at the same time. Your bladder will love you. But, despite the fact that I would just turn right around and pee it out, I consumed replacement drink and water at every location. Better too much than too little.

After about 9 miles your body, I think, starts to realize "Hmm... she's not going to stop this running thing any time soon, is she? And she's going to keep pumping us full of this water and gatorade stuff every couple of miles, no matter what, isn't she? We might want to hang on to some of this stuff if she's going to keep it up - we'll probably need it. Who knows what other hell she's going to be putting us through and for how long. Ok everyone - She's in it for the long haul. Let's not let this stuff go to waste. Time to grin and bear it."

Then the constant need to go to the bathroom diminishes, and you can settle down and just run, which is nice.

It was also right around the 9 mile marker that I noticed I was running 10 minute miles. Me. 10 minute miles. Sustained. For 9 miles! I was running 12 minute miles (5 miles/hour) at the start of training. At my peak in training I was running 5.5 miles/hour. Not that I kept close track of that stuff - my goal was to finish; I had set no time goal. But I did want to try and keep a consistent pace throughout the run, so that I didn't start out too fast and end up burning myself out early on, and so that I could gauge how I was doing and feeling (compared with training). Each mile marker had a digital clock so that I was able to tell how fast it was running based on how much time elapsed from one mile marker to the next. And I noticed at about the 9 mile marker that I was consistently arriving at the mile markers at xx:y2 (eg 06:42, 06:52, 06:62, etc). I was amazed and shocked, proud of myself, and in complete awe of my body and what it was capable of doing for me - I wasn't out of breath, I didn't feel like I was running too fast, in fact I felt GREAT! So I decided to slow down a little bit so I could prolong this feeling and make it to the end of the marathon :-). That's when I learned how easy it is to get caught up in the energy and excitement of 21,000 people running with you, adreneline flowing through you, music everywhere, people cheering you on... I often wondered what if any effect fans had in a stadium cheering on their team - if the players even noticed it and if so, if it really gave them any sort of lift. There were people lining the marathon path almost the entire way, cheering all of us on ,extending their hands to high-five us as we passed, shouting jumping and waving. And they were all total strangers to me, but that didn't matter - it gave me an extra boost of energy every time we ran through such a crowd - I found myself feeling stronger, running faster, and gravitating towards the sides of the path so I could touch the outstretched hands. It was so cool.In football, this effect is called "the 12th man". I don't know what it's called in running. But whatever it is - it works. It makes a difference!

Disney did an incredible job hosting the marathon, from the planning of the course, to the lights, music, decorations, to the AWESOME volunteers who lined the path and were there cheering us on at every mile marker and beverage stop, and all of the big and little details in between. IF I had to use one word to sum it up, it would be "Magical". Which I think is appropriate. It is the Disney marathon, after all. All of the disney characters were out for the marathon - Mickey, Minnie, Donald, Daisy, Goofy, Pluto, Buzz Lightyear, Winnie the Pooh (and piglet too!), snow white and the seven dwarves, Cinderella and her mice, Simba, and Lilo and Stitch, Peter Pan and Wendy, and every other Disney character you can possibly think of. They were jumping and waving and cheering. Many runners came prepared with disposable cameras and stopped and snapped photos of themselves with each of the characters. I might do that next time :-) All in all, it provided a wonderful distraction from the running - having the characters out there, wondering who you were going to see next. And during the parts of the run where people were unable to congregate (ie parts of hte freeway) to cheer us on, Disney had placed bug bulletin boards with disney trivia questions and answers on them to distract us. "Name the 7 dwarves in Snow White"... by the time I had figured all but 1 of them all out, the answer bulletin board appeared with "Sneezy, Dopey, Grumpy, Sleepy, Happy, Bashful and Doc". Doc. That was it. I always forget Doc.

Well, I will spare you the mile-by-mile commentary. You've heard about the first 9... miles 10-16 were similar. around mile 16 I was starting to look forward to the 19 mile marker where I knew our seattle coaches and mentors would be waiting for us. That thought distracted me and kept me going at the same time... I think for miles 16, 17, and 18 I was constantly thinking to myself "not far now to the 19 mile marker; you can do it; only 3 more miles to go; only 2 more miles to go; not far now to the 19 mile marker; you can do it; only 1.5 miles to go; only 1 mile to go; you can do it; don't stop; almost there; you can probably hear them; is that them? Waving? It's them! Wave! run! Keep running! You can do it". Rebecca, our coordinator, snapped my picture as I ran past and waved; one of our coaches volunteered to run with me for about a mile which was awesome - I needed it. And then, the 19 mile marker was behind me and I was at the 20. The coach had gone back to run with someone else. And now I noticed my feet hurting. Not unbearable; but they were definitely sore. I had passed the 19 mile marker. The end was still 6.2 miles away and I didn't really relish the thought of spending 6 miles thinking "only 6 more miles to go... not far now" considering how long it had felt getting to the 19 mile marker from the 16 mile marker. That's when I started thinking of Tim, my Mom, my Dad, my sister, all the people who donated money to me because they believed in what I was doing, and believed in me. I started imagining Tim along the side lines somewhere cheering me on - I knew he would be there but didn't know exactly where, so my thoughts turned to trying to spot Tim in the crowds that I passed, while trying desparately to ignore my hurting feet. My mantra for miles 20 and 21 when I wasn't trying to spot Tim was "my feet DON'T hurt. Feet, you do not hurt. You do not hurt, feet. They do not hurt. My feet don't hurt. My feet feel fine. They feel great. Feel great, feet. You must feel great. Do not hurt. I can do this. I can finish this. I'm almost there. And my feet do NOT hurt."

Except, they did hurt. So I walked miles 22 and 23.

Mile 24 found me some renewed inspiration. I only had 2.2 miles to go. I could DO this. I was almost done! How many times have I run 2.2 miles in the last 6 months? Well hell! I'd run it 10.9 times today alone (math provided to be a great distractino throughout the race - I'd calculate my precise pace from marker to marker and the precise time I'd expect to cross the finish line if I maintained pace, and by the time I had sorted that out, I'd have run a mile and would start again). What was 2.2 miles? It was NOTHING. And that became my new mantra. I picked up my feet and started running. And they didn't hurt! The crowds were getting bigger and louder. I was almost there! The trail started to turn back into Epcot Center. We were almost there. Finally I could see the big ball in the distance. The finish line was just past that. I passed the 25 mile marker. 1.2 miles to go! I can DO this! I was starting to feel great again. I wasn't moving very fast, but I was running, and I was smiling, and I knew that I was going to finish this marathon running!

As we entered the main center of Epcot, the trail passed under a huge arched arbor and lining the inside of the arch were all of my friends who had started the race with me - Minnie, Daisy, Donald, Goofy, Pluto, Chip, Dale, and everyone else - they jumped up and down, and clapped, and waved and held out their hands and gave me a high 5; overhead I could here majestic disney orchestra music thundering my welcome to Epcot; At the end of the arch a huge fountain blasted water and a rainbow appeared overhead in the mist as the orchestra was reaching its frenzied crescendo and my heart welled with emotion and my eyes started to blur, and I was feeling so triumphant as I ran, choking back tears of pride love and awe and...

then I stopped being able to breath. I couldn't breath! I was here, 0.2 miles away from the finish line and I couldn't breath. I tried to breath. Nothing. I couldn't take in air. Oh my god! I'm not going to finish the marathon because 0.2 miles from the finish I got choked up with emotion and couldn't breath. I was going to pass out 0.2 miles from the finish. I was NOT going to do that. I had to get a hold of myself. Get a grip, Heather. You did not train for 6 months, and raise $3500, and fly all the way across country, so that you could pass out 0.2 miles from the finish just cause you got a little emotional. Stupid stupid stupid. So I kept running, I forced myself to calm down, and I breathed. And then I breathed a sigh of relief.

So - it is important to remember that a marathon is precisely 26.2 miles. That 0.2 miles becomes very very important towards the end. Because you're not done when you pass the 26 mile mark. You still have 0.2 miles to go. And those are the longest 0.2 miles that you'll ever run. It takes forever. But you know you can do it. After all, what's 0.2 miles? And how many times have you run 0.2 miles today already? Well, 1300 times to be exact. What's another 0.2 miles after having run 1300 of them already? So I kept on running.

I turned the corner to run the last bit of the last 0.2 miles, and that's when I heard my name. "Heather!" "Heather!". They couldn't be talking to me could they? There must be at least a hundred Heather's if not more, running this marathon. Then I saw him - Tim. Tim! Tim was there! I started running towards him happily - "Tim!"... Then he pointed - "No, no - don't run this way - go THAT way - go, Go!" and I looked in the direction he pointed and saw it. The Finish Line. There it was! "Go, go!" he yelled and I started running towards it. He ran with me on the other side of the chainlink fence that separated the spectators from the runners. I could see the clock. I could see the photographers. I could see the big banner. And I could see Mickey Mouse waving me on! I picked up my feet and started running faster ("faster" is a relative term after 26.2 miles, of course), and I felt like I was flying! I was doing it! I was running across the finish line! I was DONE!

Tim ran over to meet him and I hugged him and cried and smiled and laughed and hugged him and kissed him, and I think I kept saying over and over "I did it! I did it!". We headed over to the finishing area where they were handing out aluminum blankets and then headed over to the medal rack where I was presented with my Gold Mickey Medal, and had my picture taken for posterity. I was DONE.

I gathered my bag from the checkout place, and sat down on the ground, and changed my shorts, and shirt (I had peed at least a dozen times in front of 21,000 people; I wasn't going to balk at changing my clothes in front of them too now. Besides - I was wearing my bathing suit underneath, which proved to be the absolute most comfortable undergarment to wear during the run - sweat absorbing and no chaffing). I pulled on my trackpants and sweatshirt, changed my socks and slipped on my sandals. I ate my apple and drank my water. I stretched. I ate my power bar. I stretched. I drank more water. I stretched. And then we got up and walked around and finally headed over to the ASA booth where I checked in to let them know I finished, and hugged my coaches and Rebecca.

Then - we headed over to the bus to take us back to the hotel.

First thing I did in the hotel room? I used a REAL toilet with toilet paper and a flusher and everything. I will spare you the details; suffice it to say I was in there for a REALLY long time. Next thing - I took a shower. A really long, hot shower. It was a beautiful thing. Third thing - I drank more water. And then? I went down to the gym room, hopped on a stationary bike, and pedaled with no resistance for 30 minutes. That was the other valuable tip I got - from my physical therapist no less - as I started getting into the 16, mile runs during training and finding my muscles tightening and waking up the next morning stiff and unable to move, he suggested in addition to stretching and walking around, I pedal on a stationary bike with zero resistance to help get rid of the lactic acid that had built up in my muscles, and to keep everything loosened up. So I biked for 30 minutes, and then? Then I went into the pool for a swim and a walk. The "weightlessness" of being in the water felt really good on my leg muscles. After about 20 minutes in the pool I headed upstairs for another shower. And then Tim and I headed into Downtown Disney to stroll around and help me keep loose. Then it was back to the hotel where I crashed on the bed and did some serious power napping before our victory celebration that night.

I was stiff. Really stiff. And really sore. When I woke up from that nap. It was all I could do to move. And I had to pee again. One thing I didn't mention was that by the end of my marathon my legs had swelled considerably with water retention. And my body was finally realizing I was done and that it could let go of all of the excess fluids it had been holding on to while it tried to figure out what I was doing to it. The swelling went down over the course of the next 2 days, and I swear I've never spent so much time in the bathroom ever. The other odd thing that happened to me - both of my big toenails were bruised. Apparently this is not uncommon for long distance running either. Interesting - it had never happened in training. And I was stiff. Really stiff. And really sore. Did I mention that already?

But I was still much better off than some of the other participants. I saw one woman in a wheelchair - she had stiffened so badly she couldn't move and had to be wheeled around. I mentally thanked my physical therapist for his sage advice as she was wheeled past me.

The celebration dinner was a lot of fun. Lots of people broke out the beer and wine, but there was no way I could consume anything but water and fruit juice - the thought of an alcoholic beverage made me feel dehydrated. And then it was over and we headed back to the hotel for a well deserved night's sleep.

The next two days were spent playing in the disney theme parks. We had a grand time, Tim and I! I wore the 10th Anniversary marathon jacket I had bought when we first arrived, everywhere we went, and was praised and complimented and thanked for my participation and given the warmest of welcomes everywhere. We had a total blast and it was over way too quickly. But I will never forget it. Any of it. Ever. It was one of the most magical and extraordinary experiences of my life.

Pictures of Tim and I enjoying Disney World after the marathon are posted on the crappymusic web site at http://www.crappymusic.com/DisneyMarathon/index.htm .

Below are pictures of me during the marathon. Taken by photographers who were located throughout the course; you could sign up before the marathon with any number of these companies who would take your picture throughout the marathon and then allow you to purchase them (they have to be able to see your number; so there are no pictures of me for the first 8 miles or so, when I was wearing my heavy sweartshirt due to the cold).

My official time was 5:23:39. (the clock in the pictures reflects the time since the starting gun; my official time reflects the time from when I crossed the start line, to when I crossed the finish line. Remember it took me about 12 minutes to get to the starting line given that I was in corral K).

I finished right in the very middle of my gender & age group. Not bad for a first timer, huh! ;-)

Check out photos of me during the race.

And in the days that followed the race, Tim and I had a great time exploring Disney World.

My First Marathon - Jan 12th 2003

I ran my first marathon - 26.2 miles - on January 12th 2003

I use the qualifier "first" because it is entirely conceivable that I will run another someday. I'm loosely targeting the 2005 Walt Disney Marathon as my next full marathon... we shall see :-)

The tale begins in June of 2002 when, as I was home sick, a pamphlet arrived in my mail advertising the American Stroke Association's "Train to End Stroke". (You should know that a number of fairly significant decisions have I made while at home sick after receiving an unsolicited phone call, house call, or mail. Our security system, for example - signed up for free installation after answering the door to an ADT salesman while home sick. Our replacement of all of our single-pane metal windows with double-pane insulated top-of-the-line vinyl windows? Decided after answering a phone call from an Andersen Windows salesperson while home sick. The marathon? Decided after reading a pamphlet I received in the marathon... while home sick. I have regretted none of these decisions, and they all have turned out QUITE well, I must say. An equal number (if not more) of my significant decisions have been made while completely healthy, so I'm not terribly worried. But I find it an interesting phenomenon, none the less. :-)

I received this pamphlet in the mail in June of 2002. I have no idea how it is that I got on their mailing list. I don't believe I had made a donation to them previously. In fact, I don't think *I* was on their mailing list, rather "current resident" for my house is how the pamphlet was addressed. At any rate, I opened it, and read it, and by the time I finished I was convinced that I could walk a full marathon without a problem, that it was a good cause, and that it would be a lot of fun to go to Jamaica.

Hmm... you're scrolling up to the top of the page, re-reading that first sentence, and thinking "Hey - what's this walk a marathon in Jamaica thing? i thought you ran a marathon in Florida". I have to admit - running had not been my original plan. And, I had thought of the two destinations (Walt Disney, or Jamaica) that Jamaica would be the more fun (certainly more exotic).

If any of you knew me in high school, and more precisely, had the misfortune to share gym class with me in high school, you'll remember from those days that a runner (or any other kind of athlete), I was not. I was one of those students in high school who hated gym class more than anything else because it brought down my grade point average. I was NOT one of those girls who would fake her period to get out of gym class - I'd grit my teeth and get through it. But I did NOT enjoy it. Any aspect of it. I did not enjoy getting beat across the legs with a broomball stick in the winter. I did not enjoy playing volleyball in gym class and getting glared at by my team mates every time I missed a volley. I did not enjoy running the laps around the track and feeling like my teeth were going to fall out . I did not enjoy falling behind the pack while cross country skiing. I definitely did not enjoy having 5 minutes to to get out of my stinky sweaty gym clothes, redo my hair (Remember - I went to high school in the eighties - there was a lot of hair spray involved) stuff my bag in my locker, collect my books, and run to class. And, perhaps more than anything, I did NOT enjoy not being the best (or even being average) in gym class.

But, as with all stories on this web site, I digress :-)

I looked up the ASA web site to find out when and where the information meetings for our area were being held so that I could learn more about this marathon. I found an information session scheduled for July in Bellevue and immediately signed up. I then thought it might be fun if I could find someone to do the marathon with so I called my friend Jenn, told her all about it, and she signed up for the information session too.

It was Jenn who set us on the path of running the full marathon. Her reasoning was twofold - 1) that if we're going to go to the trouble of training for a marathon we might as well run the damn thing and 2) if we ran it, it'd be over with quicker (she had done the math to back this up - calculating precisely how much time it would take us to walk it vs run it). I could hardly argue with such logic, so I agreed - let's run it.

At the information session we learned about how much money we had to raise in order to qualify for The marathon (I don't remember the exact totals), learned about how we would be trained, and we heard from some stroke survivors - which I found truly inspirational. By the end of it there was no doubt in my mind that I was going to do this.

We ended up signing up for the Jamaica marathon and over the coming weeks attended our first preparation session where we met the rest of the Seattle-Tacoma "Train To End Stroke" (TTES) team and our coaches, received our training schedules and started learning about equipment, nutrition, training, and fundraising.

Thanks to the generous contributions of my co-workers, friends, and family, and to the charitable donation matching program of the company I work for, I was able to raise the necessary minimum and then some quite early on in the program, which really helped to put my mind at ease and allow me to focus on the physical and mental preparation, and not worry about fundraising the whole time (thank you, all of you, who donated!)

Starting Saturday August 2nd 2002, the team met every saturday at a different point along the burke-gilman trail for our weekly "long run". They didn't start out very long - I think my first run was 3 miles - and then they incremented by a mile each week until we got to 20 miles (early december), after which we started backing off 1-2 miles per week. Prior to our first run, the longest I had ever run was a mile, and that was back in highschool. And I hated it then. I wasn't sure what to expect for this 3-mile run. I was in pretty good shape - had been doing high impact aerobics and 4-mile walks almost every day for the 2 1/2 years prior to starting the training for the marathon. But I had never really put myself to the "test" to see just what all that walking and aerobic activity had done for my cardiovascular system. I still had images of myself at the end of the 4-lap mile run we'd do in gym class, out of breath, lungs hurting and gums stinging. Let me tell you - that first 3 mile run we did? It was a BREEZE! I was SO excited. At the end of the run I was feeling GREAT! Energized. No sore lungs or gums. No out-of-breathness. All that exercise I'd been doing for the prior 2 years actually WORKED! I was FIT! Even more fit than I was in high school (which wasn't all that fit I'm thinking now ;-)). I really felt like I might just be able to run 26.2 miles! Woohoo!

And that was how I felt every saturday just about, up to and including our 10 mile run. I hit a bit of a hiccup on the 12 mile run, but then sailed through the 14-mile run the following week. 16 was tough, but 18 was a tad bit easier... and I was finding throughout that the amount of exercise and my eating habits for the week played a fairly significant role on our "long run" saturdays... if I worked out on Friday, I'd perform poorly on Saturday. So I made Fridays my day off. If I ate red meat the night before, I felt more sluggish so I'd usually have pasta or chicken friday nights for dinner. There was one week where I had taken the week off from work. And I was so excited because I planned to work out every day (except friday)! I roller-bladed 13 miles on monday; I went for a 6 mile run on tuesday; I worked out for an hour and a half on wednesday and thursday alternating between weights and the cardio machine. I took friday off. But saturday - the day of our 12 mile run - I was exhausted. I ended up walking about 4 of those miles and realized that even though I had taken Friday off, I was still recovering from the rest of the week. I was a total slug that day.

It was really quite an interesting experience to put my mind and body through these paces every week while training. Some weeks were good weeks, and some weeks were bad. And I learned that even careful attention to nutrition and training schedules, etc. doesn't guarantee a good run on saturday morning. Sometimes you just have bad runs. Maybe it's stress, maybe it's lack of sleep (or too much sleep), and maybe it's boredom or lack of inspiration some days. But I got through them all, and the feeling of personal accomplishment after each run (because each run I did became the furthest I had ever run as it was always at least a mile more than the previous week) was like nothing I had ever experienced before.

Amazingly enough (especially for Seattle), it rained only one Saturday morning the entire time we were training (August 2nd - end of december). It got cold towards the end of the year, and it rained many other days, of course. But we only ran in the rain once on a Saturday that whole time!

The Jamaica marathon was scheduled to happen in December 2002. the Walt Disney marathon was scheduled for January 2003. The decision to run in the Walt Disney marathon, as fate would have it, was a decision made for me and not by me. While on one of our Saturday runs in October 2002 I fell off the running trail and severely sprained my ankle. I want to point out that the reason I fell off the trail was because I was attempting to avoid a large flock of cyclists who were coming up behind me at what sounded like an alarming speed. I moved over to the right to make room and they swarmed past me - they sounded like angry bees. There were so many of them and the noise was so startling that I lost my footing, and rolled onto my ankle and off the trail. I was in excruciating pain and within seconds my ankle had swollen up to the size of a watermelon. The cyclists didn't stop. Even when I shrieked, fell, and started crying. But a number of very kind and concerned pedestrians did, and tried to help. One of the runners on my team also came by and ran ahead to let the coach know where I was. I ended up having to walk to the nearest road intersection to be picked up. I was miserable. I was unable to train for weeks, and there was no way I was going to be ready to run a full marathon in December, so I worked it out with our coordinator to switch to the Disney Marathon in January. Someone was looking out for me up there because in retrospect I think it was probably the more fun of the two and the better of the two for a first time runner like me. Everything happens for a reason :-) I had a great physical therapist who got me back up and walking (and then running) and eventually I worked my way back up to where the team was at that was preparing for the Walt Disney Marathon.

Before I knew it, it was December. December 2002 was a pretty cool month, and a pretty busy one! We closed on our property (5.6 acres that is the site of our future dream house!) on December 12th that year. And Tim proposed that same night (obviously, I said yes ;-)). My birthday was on the 13th of December. My parents arrived around the 16th or 17th, and my Sister a couple of days later. We had Christmas, I went dress shopping with my mom and sister for my wedding dress and brides maids dresses, we hired a wedding consultant, Celebrated new years. Oh - and I worked out and trained and continued getting ready for the marathon in January ;-).

Before we knew it, the time had come to head to Florida! The marathon was on Saturday the 12th. We arrived Thursday morning, I believe. I spent Thurs and Fri registering, getting my number and my shoe chip (that is what determines your official time), browsing through the sports & fitness exhibition, and generally trying to relax before the big day.

We stayed at the Animal Kingdom Lodge - it was FANTASTIC! What a great hotel! Had a lot of fun walking through the grounds and watching the giraffes and rhinos and elephants and gazelles and exotic birds going about their business all around the hotel.

The night before the marathon, ASA held a pasta party for the entire ASA Train To End Stroke team - which was a few thousand I think. Teams from cities all across the US. Great food and a lot of fun, if slightly overshadowed by some nervousness and anxiety for the big day.

We were supposed to be at the starting line by 6:00 the next morning. Buses were coming to pick us up at our hotel at 5:00. Which meant I wanted to be up by about 4:15am. Which meant I wanted to get to sleep around 7:30pm! We left the pasta party early, headed back to the hotel, and I got everything ready for the morning - laid out my running clothes, after-marathon-clothes & bag (they let you bring a bag that they store for you. One of the BEST tips I got from our coach was to put a pair of sandals in your bag (along with fresh socks, pants, shirt, couple of apples, gatorade, towel, brush/comb), set out my breakfast which consisted of 2 energy bars, gatorade, and an apple for the bus ride (I had discovered during training that having gatorade and a couple of energy bars for breakfast was the perfect way to start off a long run day for me. Everyone is different, but this worked for me). And then I climbed into bed.

As luck would have it (for Tim), there was a football game or baseball game or something on tv to keep him occupied. He was very sweetly watching it at very low volume but it proved to be enough of a distraction that I wasn't able to fall asleep. Tim took my not-so-discrete tossing & turning and mumbling as a hint, and headed down to the bar to watch the rest of the game :-) When he came back up I still wasn't entirely asleep, but close enough.

We had called the front desk for a wakeup call at 4:15. The phone was on Tim's side of the bed. So at promptly 4:15 when the phone rang and woke me from a very very deep sleep, I bolted upright and reached over Tim to make a grab at the phone. However in my half-asleep-but-startled-awake state, I neglected to reach over Tim and ended up punching him in the eye. Really hard. That woke him up pretty fast.

Feeling really bad, and after apologizing profusely and trying to make his eye better, I finally scrambled around Tim and answered the still-ringing phone.

I had forgotten we were in Disney World. I answered the phone expecting a concierge-like voice to tell me that it was my 4:15 wake up call. Instead I got Mickey Mouse, telling me to "Rise and Shine" in that chipper Mickey voice of his. It was perfect :-) This was going to be fun!

I showered (have to start the day off with a shower!), got dressed (2 layers; it was in the mid 30s around 5am), ate my breakfast, and headed down stairs.

Tim went back to bed for a couple of hours before heading over to the park so that he could watch the marathon and look for me :-)

The bus was late getting there, which added to everyone's nervousness. But they finally arrived and took us to the marathon starting point. From there we checked our bags and walked out to our "corral". Because most of us were amateur runners, we were in one of the last corrals which was a good mile and a half walk from the starting line, I swear. The faster you are (using official times from other official marathons) the closer to the start line your corral is. This is so the slow people don't trip up the fast people. Makes sense. A couple of more experienced runners on our team decided to go to a closer corral. I went to the one I was assigned to. I think it was "K". Then proceeded to warm up with other members of the team that I was with, stretching, etc. They were playing peppy music on huge speakers all along the starting line, and every once in a while goofy or mickey or minnie or donald or daisy would talk to us or to each other about the marathon and how exciting it was, and how cool we all were, and what great athletes we all were. Sounds cheesy, but it worked! I was feeling excited, and healthy and ready (if still a bit nervous!!!) And finally - the countdown started. Mickey and Minnie and the gang started counting down, and so did the rest of us, and then with a blaze of fireworks and crescendo of music we were off! Now, there were about 18-22 thousand people there. So we started off at a slow walk, which gradually turned into a brisk walk, which gradually turned into a slow trot, and then a slow jog and eventually we were almost up to normal marathon running speed - but it took some time

How to describe the marathon itself? There are no words! But I'll see what I can do.

We started running in the dark - it was 6:30 and just above freezing. But I barely noticed. The first part of the route took us through Epcot Center and was truly inspiring and energizing. They had all of the buildings lit up - coloured lights everywhere, and all kinds of disney-esque music from all over the world blaring through speakers that lined the running path. It was so cool! Really set us off on the right pace.

26.2 miles is a long way to run and it is impossible to not have to stop to go to the bathroom along the way. the course is prepared for that with port-o-potties at every other mile marker, but 21,000 people is a lot of people to compete with for the dozen or so bathrooms they had at each location. And when you gotta go, you gotta go. Especially given how much liquids I had been consuming over the last week in preparation for the big day. So it was just shortly after the start of the marathon that I learned the secret to marathon bathroom breaking from those who had clearly been-here-done-that before me. In retrospect it is actually quite an entertaining sight - marathon countdown ends, race start is signalled, and everyone starts to run... straight towards the woods off to the right of the running path, guys dropping their running trousers to take a leak, women squatting next to or behind a bush. En mass I swear, hundreds of runners made a break for the tree line within 5 minutes of the start, and there was a steady stream of back and forth of this for the first 5 miles I kid you not. And if you thought yourself above all that and resolutely determined to make it to the port-a-potties at the next mile marker to pee in dignity, you only stood in one of those lines once before casting aside your inhibitions and squatting in the tree line with the rest of them.

For the first 9 miles, I had to pee non-stop. It's not a very glamourous image, is it? Marathon running is not glamourous :-). Our coaches told us to expect that we'd have to constantly "go" for the first few miles of the marathon. I thought that constant feeling of my bladder about to explode would never end. It's bad enough when you've gotta go and you're stuck in traffic, or somewhere sitting down. Try having to pee and running at the same time. Your bladder will love you. But, despite the fact that I would just turn right around and pee it out, I consumed replacement drink and water at every location. Better too much than too little.

After about 9 miles your body, I think, starts to realize "Hmm... she's not going to stop this running thing any time soon, is she? And she's going to keep pumping us full of this water and gatorade stuff every couple of miles, no matter what, isn't she? We might want to hang on to some of this stuff if she's going to keep it up - we'll probably need it. Who knows what other hell she's going to be putting us through and for how long. Ok everyone - She's in it for the long haul. Let's not let this stuff go to waste. Time to grin and bear it."

Then the constant need to go to the bathroom diminishes, and you can settle down and just run, which is nice.

It was also right around the 9 mile marker that I noticed I was running 10 minute miles. Me. 10 minute miles. Sustained. For 9 miles! I was running 12 minute miles (5 miles/hour) at the start of training. At my peak in training I was running 5.5 miles/hour. Not that I kept close track of that stuff - my goal was to finish; I had set no time goal. But I did want to try and keep a consistent pace throughout the run, so that I didn't start out too fast and end up burning myself out early on, and so that I could gauge how I was doing and feeling (compared with training). Each mile marker had a digital clock so that I was able to tell how fast it was running based on how much time elapsed from one mile marker to the next. And I noticed at about the 9 mile marker that I was consistently arriving at the mile markers at xx:y2 (eg 06:42, 06:52, 06:62, etc). I was amazed and shocked, proud of myself, and in complete awe of my body and what it was capable of doing for me - I wasn't out of breath, I didn't feel like I was running too fast, in fact I felt GREAT! So I decided to slow down a little bit so I could prolong this feeling and make it to the end of the marathon :-). That's when I learned how easy it is to get caught up in the energy and excitement of 21,000 people running with you, adreneline flowing through you, music everywhere, people cheering you on... I often wondered what if any effect fans had in a stadium cheering on their team - if the players even noticed it and if so, if it really gave them any sort of lift. There were people lining the marathon path almost the entire way, cheering all of us on ,extending their hands to high-five us as we passed, shouting jumping and waving. And they were all total strangers to me, but that didn't matter - it gave me an extra boost of energy every time we ran through such a crowd - I found myself feeling stronger, running faster, and gravitating towards the sides of the path so I could touch the outstretched hands. It was so cool.In football, this effect is called "the 12th man". I don't know what it's called in running. But whatever it is - it works. It makes a difference!

Disney did an incredible job hosting the marathon, from the planning of the course, to the lights, music, decorations, to the AWESOME volunteers who lined the path and were there cheering us on at every mile marker and beverage stop, and all of the big and little details in between. IF I had to use one word to sum it up, it would be "Magical". Which I think is appropriate. It is the Disney marathon, after all. All of the disney characters were out for the marathon - Mickey, Minnie, Donald, Daisy, Goofy, Pluto, Buzz Lightyear, Winnie the Pooh (and piglet too!), snow white and the seven dwarves, Cinderella and her mice, Simba, and Lilo and Stitch, Peter Pan and Wendy, and every other Disney character you can possibly think of. They were jumping and waving and cheering. Many runners came prepared with disposable cameras and stopped and snapped photos of themselves with each of the characters. I might do that next time :-) All in all, it provided a wonderful distraction from the running - having the characters out there, wondering who you were going to see next. And during the parts of the run where people were unable to congregate (ie parts of hte freeway) to cheer us on, Disney had placed bug bulletin boards with disney trivia questions and answers on them to distract us. "Name the 7 dwarves in Snow White"... by the time I had figured all but 1 of them all out, the answer bulletin board appeared with "Sneezy, Dopey, Grumpy, Sleepy, Happy, Bashful and Doc". Doc. That was it. I always forget Doc.

Well, I will spare you the mile-by-mile commentary. You've heard about the first 9... miles 10-16 were similar. around mile 16 I was starting to look forward to the 19 mile marker where I knew our seattle coaches and mentors would be waiting for us. That thought distracted me and kept me going at the same time... I think for miles 16, 17, and 18 I was constantly thinking to myself "not far now to the 19 mile marker; you can do it; only 3 more miles to go; only 2 more miles to go; not far now to the 19 mile marker; you can do it; only 1.5 miles to go; only 1 mile to go; you can do it; don't stop; almost there; you can probably hear them; is that them? Waving? It's them! Wave! run! Keep running! You can do it". Rebecca, our coordinator, snapped my picture as I ran past and waved; one of our coaches volunteered to run with me for about a mile which was awesome - I needed it. And then, the 19 mile marker was behind me and I was at the 20. The coach had gone back to run with someone else. And now I noticed my feet hurting. Not unbearable; but they were definitely sore. I had passed the 19 mile marker. The end was still 6.2 miles away and I didn't really relish the thought of spending 6 miles thinking "only 6 more miles to go... not far now" considering how long it had felt getting to the 19 mile marker from the 16 mile marker. That's when I started thinking of Tim, my Mom, my Dad, my sister, all the people who donated money to me because they believed in what I was doing, and believed in me. I started imagining Tim along the side lines somewhere cheering me on - I knew he would be there but didn't know exactly where, so my thoughts turned to trying to spot Tim in the crowds that I passed, while trying desparately to ignore my hurting feet. My mantra for miles 20 and 21 when I wasn't trying to spot Tim was "my feet DON'T hurt. Feet, you do not hurt. You do not hurt, feet. They do not hurt. My feet don't hurt. My feet feel fine. They feel great. Feel great, feet. You must feel great. Do not hurt. I can do this. I can finish this. I'm almost there. And my feet do NOT hurt."

Except, they did hurt. So I walked miles 22 and 23.

Mile 24 found me some renewed inspiration. I only had 2.2 miles to go. I could DO this. I was almost done! How many times have I run 2.2 miles in the last 6 months? Well hell! I'd run it 10.9 times today alone (math provided to be a great distractino throughout the race - I'd calculate my precise pace from marker to marker and the precise time I'd expect to cross the finish line if I maintained pace, and by the time I had sorted that out, I'd have run a mile and would start again). What was 2.2 miles? It was NOTHING. And that became my new mantra. I picked up my feet and started running. And they didn't hurt! The crowds were getting bigger and louder. I was almost there! The trail started to turn back into Epcot Center. We were almost there. Finally I could see the big ball in the distance. The finish line was just past that. I passed the 25 mile marker. 1.2 miles to go! I can DO this! I was starting to feel great again. I wasn't moving very fast, but I was running, and I was smiling, and I knew that I was going to finish this marathon running!

As we entered the main center of Epcot, the trail passed under a huge arched arbor and lining the inside of the arch were all of my friends who had started the race with me - Minnie, Daisy, Donald, Goofy, Pluto, Chip, Dale, and everyone else - they jumped up and down, and clapped, and waved and held out their hands and gave me a high 5; overhead I could here majestic disney orchestra music thundering my welcome to Epcot; At the end of the arch a huge fountain blasted water and a rainbow appeared overhead in the mist as the orchestra was reaching its frenzied crescendo and my heart welled with emotion and my eyes started to blur, and I was feeling so triumphant as I ran, choking back tears of pride love and awe and...

then I stopped being able to breath. I couldn't breath! I was here, 0.2 miles away from the finish line and I couldn't breath. I tried to breath. Nothing. I couldn't take in air. Oh my god! I'm not going to finish the marathon because 0.2 miles from the finish I got choked up with emotion and couldn't breath. I was going to pass out 0.2 miles from the finish. I was NOT going to do that. I had to get a hold of myself. Get a grip, Heather. You did not train for 6 months, and raise $3500, and fly all the way across country, so that you could pass out 0.2 miles from the finish just cause you got a little emotional. Stupid stupid stupid. So I kept running, I forced myself to calm down, and I breathed. And then I breathed a sigh of relief.

So - it is important to remember that a marathon is precisely 26.2 miles. That 0.2 miles becomes very very important towards the end. Because you're not done when you pass the 26 mile mark. You still have 0.2 miles to go. And those are the longest 0.2 miles that you'll ever run. It takes forever. But you know you can do it. After all, what's 0.2 miles? And how many times have you run 0.2 miles today already? Well, 1300 times to be exact. What's another 0.2 miles after having run 1300 of them already? So I kept on running.

I turned the corner to run the last bit of the last 0.2 miles, and that's when I heard my name. "Heather!" "Heather!". They couldn't be talking to me could they? There must be at least a hundred Heather's if not more, running this marathon. Then I saw him - Tim. Tim! Tim was there! I started running towards him happily - "Tim!"... Then he pointed - "No, no - don't run this way - go THAT way - go, Go!" and I looked in the direction he pointed and saw it. The Finish Line. There it was! "Go, go!" he yelled and I started running towards it. He ran with me on the other side of the chainlink fence that separated the spectators from the runners. I could see the clock. I could see the photographers. I could see the big banner. And I could see Mickey Mouse waving me on! I picked up my feet and started running faster ("faster" is a relative term after 26.2 miles, of course), and I felt like I was flying! I was doing it! I was running across the finish line! I was DONE!

Tim ran over to meet him and I hugged him and cried and smiled and laughed and hugged him and kissed him, and I think I kept saying over and over "I did it! I did it!". We headed over to the finishing area where they were handing out aluminum blankets and then headed over to the medal rack where I was presented with my Gold Mickey Medal, and had my picture taken for posterity. I was DONE.

I gathered my bag from the checkout place, and sat down on the ground, and changed my shorts, and shirt (I had peed at least a dozen times in front of 21,000 people; I wasn't going to balk at changing my clothes in front of them too now. Besides - I was wearing my bathing suit underneath, which proved to be the absolute most comfortable undergarment to wear during the run - sweat absorbing and no chaffing). I pulled on my trackpants and sweatshirt, changed my socks and slipped on my sandals. I ate my apple and drank my water. I stretched. I ate my power bar. I stretched. I drank more water. I stretched. And then we got up and walked around and finally headed over to the ASA booth where I checked in to let them know I finished, and hugged my coaches and Rebecca.

Then - we headed over to the bus to take us back to the hotel.

First thing I did in the hotel room? I used a REAL toilet with toilet paper and a flusher and everything. I will spare you the details; suffice it to say I was in there for a REALLY long time. Next thing - I took a shower. A really long, hot shower. It was a beautiful thing. Third thing - I drank more water. And then? I went down to the gym room, hopped on a stationary bike, and pedaled with no resistance for 30 minutes. That was the other valuable tip I got - from my physical therapist no less - as I started getting into the 16, mile runs during training and finding my muscles tightening and waking up the next morning stiff and unable to move, he suggested in addition to stretching and walking around, I pedal on a stationary bike with zero resistance to help get rid of the lactic acid that had built up in my muscles, and to keep everything loosened up. So I biked for 30 minutes, and then? Then I went into the pool for a swim and a walk. The "weightlessness" of being in the water felt really good on my leg muscles. After about 20 minutes in the pool I headed upstairs for another shower. And then Tim and I headed into Downtown Disney to stroll around and help me keep loose. Then it was back to the hotel where I crashed on the bed and did some serious power napping before our victory celebration that night.

I was stiff. Really stiff. And really sore. When I woke up from that nap. It was all I could do to move. And I had to pee again. One thing I didn't mention was that by the end of my marathon my legs had swelled considerably with water retention. And my body was finally realizing I was done and that it could let go of all of the excess fluids it had been holding on to while it tried to figure out what I was doing to it. The swelling went down over the course of the next 2 days, and I swear I've never spent so much time in the bathroom ever. The other odd thing that happened to me - both of my big toenails were bruised. Apparently this is not uncommon for long distance running either. Interesting - it had never happened in training. And I was stiff. Really stiff. And really sore. Did I mention that already?

But I was still much better off than some of the other participants. I saw one woman in a wheelchair - she had stiffened so badly she couldn't move and had to be wheeled around. I mentally thanked my physical therapist for his sage advice as she was wheeled past me.

The celebration dinner was a lot of fun. Lots of people broke out the beer and wine, but there was no way I could consume anything but water and fruit juice - the thought of an alcoholic beverage made me feel dehydrated. And then it was over and we headed back to the hotel for a well deserved night's sleep.

The next two days were spent playing in the disney theme parks. We had a grand time, Tim and I! I wore the 10th Anniversary marathon jacket I had bought when we first arrived, everywhere we went, and was praised and complimented and thanked for my participation and given the warmest of welcomes everywhere. We had a total blast and it was over way too quickly. But I will never forget it. Any of it. Ever. It was one of the most magical and extraordinary experiences of my life.

Pictures of Tim and I enjoying Disney World after the marathon are posted on the crappymusic web site at http://www.crappymusic.com/DisneyMarathon/index.htm .

Below are pictures of me during the marathon. Taken by photographers who were located throughout the course; you could sign up before the marathon with any number of these companies who would take your picture throughout the marathon and then allow you to purchase them (they have to be able to see your number; so there are no pictures of me for the first 8 miles or so, when I was wearing my heavy sweartshirt due to the cold).

My official time was 5:23:39. (the clock in the pictures reflects the time since the starting gun; my official time reflects the time from when I crossed the start line, to when I crossed the finish line. Remember it took me about 12 minutes to get to the starting line given that I was in corral K).

I finished right in the very middle of my gender & age group. Not bad for a first timer, huh! ;-)

Check out photos of me during the race.

And in the days that followed the race, Tim and I had a great time exploring Disney World.