Okay, yes I know I promised the Warrior Dash, and I actually have that post written. The problem is I have a huge question to mull over for the weekend and it has been weighing on my mind. With my injury I haven't been able to train for walking let alone running in a month now. A month with no speed walking or running. It's been difficult to say the least.
On Sunday I am signed up to participate in the Hot Chocolate 5k. This was suppose to be my last 5k of the year. When I signed up I was notified that there is a time limit on the course and if I can't keep up a 4 mph speed that they will ask me to take a short cut, walk on the sidewalk (without the benefit of any amenities), or be taken out of the race. With that notification, and the fact that I am in one of the last corrals to be let go I know that there is no way I will finish the race proper.
So the question I am mulling over, is it is worth it to go, and try to complete part of the race? I am trying to weigh the options of waking up early to drive downtown Chicago, pay to park for a few hours just to get my hot chocolate mug, and the all the chocolate goodies that go along with it. My cousins and aunt are participating, but my mom is injured and won't be participating and my bestie doesn't know if she is going to go, because she managed to sprain her ankle last weekend. That means that I may be the only one from this side of Chicago to go. Is it worth it?
I worry that if I do go and try to walk that I'll push myself too far and I'll end up pushing back my recovery. Or worse, what if I end up injuring myself even worse. Ugh! I have too much planned and a Disney 10k to train for right? Any thoughts on this, or encouraging moments, please do not hesitate to contact me.
Peace, Love, and Still Fat,
S
Friday, October 27, 2017
Friday, October 20, 2017
Frustrations and Set Backs
I know I promised a post about the Warrior Dash, and I promise it is coming. But, this has been a hard week for me, and getting the inspiration to tell you about how that went, how I enjoyed it, and what I took away from it is lacking. Lacking isn't even the word. I am down and out. I am depressed about this journey, and the new set back I have received. So, here I am doing what I do best. I am putting it all out there for you to read, and maybe it'll help someone else out along the way.
It starts about three weeks ago. I had been preparing for my third and fourth events this year up until then. The goal was to get my speed down so I don't get kicked off the course in my fourth event, but more on that later. On that Saturday I drove over to my sister's/mom's place and was going to head up north to spend the day with family celebrating my grandma's birthday. I didn't even get a chance to say hi to my sister when I was whisked off in the truck to go pick up some food and head out. Of course, there was a complication, and we headed back to my sister's.
This is where the fun begins. I decided to run upstairs real quick and say hi to my sister because I haven't seen her in forever. I put my right leg on a step and went to go up when I felt and heard it. There was a pop from my calf and instant pain. I ended up walking up the rest of the stairs like a kid, left foot first, right foot same stair and repeat. I made it down but I am here to tell you that it hurt to just walk. I pushed my right foot so that it was facing out, and shuffled along to the truck and somehow managed to get myself in.
I was in pain, serious pain. I spent most of my day in a recliner, with my leg propped up. It hurt to walk like a normal person, and ugh. Just ugh. I did have my cousin take a look at it, she is a physiotherapist, and a doctor. She thought it was a muscle tear (muscle sprain) in the calf. I made it home late that night, took a muscle relaxer, and slept on the couch with my leg propped up. The next day I was still having issues, and let's just say that my walk was definitely showing a limp. You think I would have went to the doctor, right? Nope. Not me. I managed to ice my leg, and just not walk normal.
Now I will say within 2 weeks my leg was feeling better. I was walking normal, but still being careful about stairs. It was the morning of my third event, and it was cancelled due to extreme weather. I went out with Mella shopping and garage selling. We went to leave the store and it was pouring down rain. My leg had been feeling great and without thinking I took off at a run to her Jeep. Big effing mistake. Huge. I think I made about four of five strides when I felt the muscle in my calf tense up and pretty much tear again. There I was Saturday and Sunday on the couch, leg propped and iced, and not a happy camper at all.
I finally went to the doctor. Muscle strain. Damn muscle strain. My instructions are to RICE - rest, ice, compress (when the pain to touch goes away) and elevate - as much as possible for the next two weeks. After that I can probably walk like a normal person. No running at all for four to six weeks. And no strenuous activity on it. WTF. I have an event in just over a week from when I am posting this and it is an event that is timed, and we can be asked to take a short cut, be told to walk on the sidewalk, or be taken off the course all together. What am I going to do?
So, with all of that, needless to say I have been pretty depressed and down on myself all week. It probably doesn't help that the limping is taking a toll on my bad foot, you know the one I mentioned in my last post. So here I sit just a little over a week before my next event icing down body parts and trying not to be that depressed person. I know I have been crabby all week - no denying it here. Monday after the doctor I was really down. I pretty much limped into the house and sat trying not to be upset. I had texted my diagnosis out to my mom and some of my friends that had known what was going on. They tried to help me look to the future and all the training I could do when healed. It helped a little.
It wasn't until a talk later with one person who helped me to remember the long term goal, and how being depressed wasn't going to help before I started to cheer up a little. I have that big goal, the one I haven't shared yet. Yes, there is something out there that I can look forward to training for. And I know I can do it. So in the spirit of keeping me in a good mood I'll share now.
Spring 2019, I am going to participate and finish the Darkside 10K at Disney. This crosses a few items off the big bucket list I have. I've always wanted to do a 10K, and I've always wanted to participate in a Disney running event. Two birds with one stone, right? So there it is. All next year not only am I going to be training for my 5K's with friends and family (and there are a bunch of events I want to do next year), but I'll be working my way up to running a 10K. There is a time limit, so I know not only do I have to learn to run, but be able to keep up just under a 4 mph run. I can do this! So April 2019 there is my new goal date.
I'll be keeping everyone posted about my training and how I am doing. I encourage anyone to ask me how it is going, or to join me once I am healed. There are lots of 5K's I know I want to do next year, (The Run to Wrigley, the Color Run, the Warrior Dash, the Hot Chocolate 5K, the Ditka Dash, a breast cancer event) and anyone who would like to join me is more than welcome. I am planning a few virtual races as well. Here's to making 2018 the year I learn to run not only a mile, but multiples.
Peace, love, and still fat,
S
It starts about three weeks ago. I had been preparing for my third and fourth events this year up until then. The goal was to get my speed down so I don't get kicked off the course in my fourth event, but more on that later. On that Saturday I drove over to my sister's/mom's place and was going to head up north to spend the day with family celebrating my grandma's birthday. I didn't even get a chance to say hi to my sister when I was whisked off in the truck to go pick up some food and head out. Of course, there was a complication, and we headed back to my sister's.
This is where the fun begins. I decided to run upstairs real quick and say hi to my sister because I haven't seen her in forever. I put my right leg on a step and went to go up when I felt and heard it. There was a pop from my calf and instant pain. I ended up walking up the rest of the stairs like a kid, left foot first, right foot same stair and repeat. I made it down but I am here to tell you that it hurt to just walk. I pushed my right foot so that it was facing out, and shuffled along to the truck and somehow managed to get myself in.
I was in pain, serious pain. I spent most of my day in a recliner, with my leg propped up. It hurt to walk like a normal person, and ugh. Just ugh. I did have my cousin take a look at it, she is a physiotherapist, and a doctor. She thought it was a muscle tear (muscle sprain) in the calf. I made it home late that night, took a muscle relaxer, and slept on the couch with my leg propped up. The next day I was still having issues, and let's just say that my walk was definitely showing a limp. You think I would have went to the doctor, right? Nope. Not me. I managed to ice my leg, and just not walk normal.
Now I will say within 2 weeks my leg was feeling better. I was walking normal, but still being careful about stairs. It was the morning of my third event, and it was cancelled due to extreme weather. I went out with Mella shopping and garage selling. We went to leave the store and it was pouring down rain. My leg had been feeling great and without thinking I took off at a run to her Jeep. Big effing mistake. Huge. I think I made about four of five strides when I felt the muscle in my calf tense up and pretty much tear again. There I was Saturday and Sunday on the couch, leg propped and iced, and not a happy camper at all.
I finally went to the doctor. Muscle strain. Damn muscle strain. My instructions are to RICE - rest, ice, compress (when the pain to touch goes away) and elevate - as much as possible for the next two weeks. After that I can probably walk like a normal person. No running at all for four to six weeks. And no strenuous activity on it. WTF. I have an event in just over a week from when I am posting this and it is an event that is timed, and we can be asked to take a short cut, be told to walk on the sidewalk, or be taken off the course all together. What am I going to do?
So, with all of that, needless to say I have been pretty depressed and down on myself all week. It probably doesn't help that the limping is taking a toll on my bad foot, you know the one I mentioned in my last post. So here I sit just a little over a week before my next event icing down body parts and trying not to be that depressed person. I know I have been crabby all week - no denying it here. Monday after the doctor I was really down. I pretty much limped into the house and sat trying not to be upset. I had texted my diagnosis out to my mom and some of my friends that had known what was going on. They tried to help me look to the future and all the training I could do when healed. It helped a little.
It wasn't until a talk later with one person who helped me to remember the long term goal, and how being depressed wasn't going to help before I started to cheer up a little. I have that big goal, the one I haven't shared yet. Yes, there is something out there that I can look forward to training for. And I know I can do it. So in the spirit of keeping me in a good mood I'll share now.
Spring 2019, I am going to participate and finish the Darkside 10K at Disney. This crosses a few items off the big bucket list I have. I've always wanted to do a 10K, and I've always wanted to participate in a Disney running event. Two birds with one stone, right? So there it is. All next year not only am I going to be training for my 5K's with friends and family (and there are a bunch of events I want to do next year), but I'll be working my way up to running a 10K. There is a time limit, so I know not only do I have to learn to run, but be able to keep up just under a 4 mph run. I can do this! So April 2019 there is my new goal date.
I'll be keeping everyone posted about my training and how I am doing. I encourage anyone to ask me how it is going, or to join me once I am healed. There are lots of 5K's I know I want to do next year, (The Run to Wrigley, the Color Run, the Warrior Dash, the Hot Chocolate 5K, the Ditka Dash, a breast cancer event) and anyone who would like to join me is more than welcome. I am planning a few virtual races as well. Here's to making 2018 the year I learn to run not only a mile, but multiples.
Peace, love, and still fat,
S
Friday, October 13, 2017
What is the new journey?
Now that I am back to posting, and the journey what is it? Well, in a sense, it is the same. The goal is to get fit, and lose some inches and weight along the way. The process is different, and some of my goals along the way have change. A big part of that change goes to my cousin Katie, who has been the push I needed at time and one of my biggest cheerleaders this summer. The other goes to my friend Christopher who has given me one of my biggest goals to date.
Last year Katie and Rachel both did the Warrior Dash with friends. It looked like a bunch of fun, and a challenge. I happened to mention to Katie that I wanted to do a 5K, and the how much fun the Warrior Dash looked. I doubted myself being able to do a 5K. I've never ran a mile in my life, how in the hell was I suppose to get an entire 3.1 miles in the books?
Katie never doubted me. In fact, she encouraged me. I was sitting at home one night in February, when she tagged me in a Facebook post about the run and asking me to do it. Next thing I know I have a text telling me that her friend started a team so we could get a discount and to join it. It wasn't a "You should do this run with me." It was "We started a team. Join it." I signed up and there it was, my first 5k to do.
I hadn't even finished that one and barely started training for my race when Katie started a Facebook group for friends and family for us to sign up for the Warrior Dash. By the end of February I was signed up for that one as well. There it was, my first year of stepping out of my comfort zone and trying to do something I never thought I would and I was signed up for two races, one of which had obstacles! What in the hell was I thinking?!
I started training. It was winter, but I got on the treadmill and started using interval training on a couch to 5k app to get my running going. I was proud to that I was working my way up. Just over a month later my foot was killing me daily, and was only getting worse. I made an appointment with a doctor and got x-rays. I went to the podiatrist (which with his intern was a treat), and was given good news bad news. My foot wasn't broken, not even a stress fracture, but I had some major nerve damage. I was given a shot in the foot and told no running.
No running?! Was this doctor insane? I had been training for a month, and getting my run in a few days a week was an addiction. I can't even tell you how hard amazing it was for me to admit that I was enjoying the cardio. I would finish the thirty or so minutes of the couch to 5k, and I would continue to walk until I hit 40 to 45 minutes total. I felt great, and on days I wasn't running and I hit the gym, I would warm up on the treadmill, and then hit the weights after. Some days I was able to get a 15 to 20 minute walk in. Others, I was dying but I still made it to the gym.
I kept to walking and tried running as I was allowed. I went camping with my parents the weekend prior to my 5k. I went out Sunday alone, and did a route that was just over 3.1 miles. I ran and walked as I could, and finished it in my best time to date! I was ready for the 5k! I was going to kick butt and enjoy myself.
I won't bore everyone with a run down of the race. But I did it. And I finished! And I had fun! I may not have run the whole thing, but I did the race and I wasn't dying for breath, or anything after. I ran when I could, and was an inspiration to some. There was a great satisfaction in completing it.
While I have so much more to share, this post could go on forever. I will write up an entire post to the Warrior Dash. That was an experience and a half!
Peace, Love and Still fat,
S
Last year Katie and Rachel both did the Warrior Dash with friends. It looked like a bunch of fun, and a challenge. I happened to mention to Katie that I wanted to do a 5K, and the how much fun the Warrior Dash looked. I doubted myself being able to do a 5K. I've never ran a mile in my life, how in the hell was I suppose to get an entire 3.1 miles in the books?
Katie never doubted me. In fact, she encouraged me. I was sitting at home one night in February, when she tagged me in a Facebook post about the run and asking me to do it. Next thing I know I have a text telling me that her friend started a team so we could get a discount and to join it. It wasn't a "You should do this run with me." It was "We started a team. Join it." I signed up and there it was, my first 5k to do.
I hadn't even finished that one and barely started training for my race when Katie started a Facebook group for friends and family for us to sign up for the Warrior Dash. By the end of February I was signed up for that one as well. There it was, my first year of stepping out of my comfort zone and trying to do something I never thought I would and I was signed up for two races, one of which had obstacles! What in the hell was I thinking?!
I started training. It was winter, but I got on the treadmill and started using interval training on a couch to 5k app to get my running going. I was proud to that I was working my way up. Just over a month later my foot was killing me daily, and was only getting worse. I made an appointment with a doctor and got x-rays. I went to the podiatrist (which with his intern was a treat), and was given good news bad news. My foot wasn't broken, not even a stress fracture, but I had some major nerve damage. I was given a shot in the foot and told no running.
No running?! Was this doctor insane? I had been training for a month, and getting my run in a few days a week was an addiction. I can't even tell you how hard amazing it was for me to admit that I was enjoying the cardio. I would finish the thirty or so minutes of the couch to 5k, and I would continue to walk until I hit 40 to 45 minutes total. I felt great, and on days I wasn't running and I hit the gym, I would warm up on the treadmill, and then hit the weights after. Some days I was able to get a 15 to 20 minute walk in. Others, I was dying but I still made it to the gym.
I kept to walking and tried running as I was allowed. I went camping with my parents the weekend prior to my 5k. I went out Sunday alone, and did a route that was just over 3.1 miles. I ran and walked as I could, and finished it in my best time to date! I was ready for the 5k! I was going to kick butt and enjoy myself.
I won't bore everyone with a run down of the race. But I did it. And I finished! And I had fun! I may not have run the whole thing, but I did the race and I wasn't dying for breath, or anything after. I ran when I could, and was an inspiration to some. There was a great satisfaction in completing it.
While I have so much more to share, this post could go on forever. I will write up an entire post to the Warrior Dash. That was an experience and a half!
Peace, Love and Still fat,
S
Wednesday, October 11, 2017
Returning to the Journey
Five year. It has been five long years since I made my last post on this blog. It's amazing to me with the stress of finding a job, the stress of fitting into a new place, and everything else going on with my life that I let this blog go to the wayside. I'm not back with a positive, brilliant stroke of genius to write about, but I promise to try and not make this depressing either. No, I come back thanks to reconnecting with a dear friend. He made me realize that while I may have been getting back on a journey, I wasn't being true to myself by not sharing. So here I go, a little catch up, and a new journey to begin.
I loved Louisiana. After growing up and living my life in Chicagoland I never thought I would find a place that I could call home other than the region I grew up. New Orleans and Louisiana in general will always hold a piece of my heart. The food down there, oh the food. I learned to enjoy some seafood which was not something I did before. I ended up becoming close with my in-laws, and made friends. I experience Mardi Gras, a hurricane, and what happens when it sleets in a region that doesn't get freezing temperatures often.
But, through it all I was struggling. I was struggling with my marriage. I didn't realize that moving to the South would be a catalyst in the end of my marriage. Okay, it probably wasn't a catalyst, but it definitely opened doors that were not open up in Chicago at the time. We struggled for a long time, I just didn't realize it then as much as hindsight made it apparent. The struggle took it's toll on me. I didn't feel like cooking, I didn't feel like trying to be good, and I didn't feel like exercising. I ballooned back up to close to the weight I was when I first started the Weight Watchers journey all those years ago.
My parents were wonderful and came to pick me up and give me one last hooray in the city I grew to call home (sidebar, I left a piece of my heart with that city). We walked the French Quarter, had beneigets (which you would think I would have learned how to spell when I was down there), took a tour, ate seafood, and of course hit the tourist shops. I look back at those pictures of me on the steps across from Jackson square, or trying on a hat in a store and I can't believe I let myself get back to that weight.
But, I returned back to Chicagoland to my parents, my sisters, my best friend, and my extended family. I came back to the place where I could cocoon myself in love and support. The place where I could heal the broken parts of me, even the ones I didn't know existed at the time. Not that my in-laws were not great to me down in Louisiana, but nothing beats that hug from my dad, the talks with my mom, and the drinks with my bestie on some of my worst days. It hasn't always been easy. In fact in the last week I've had two breakdowns, and parts that I thought were healed were just scabbed over. It's been almost three years, but to heal from the split of a fourteen year relationship that ended what seemed suddenly for me I will take the three years if it means I am healed.
So, here I am after all of that back on the journey. The goals are not the same, and the path I am taking has changed, but the overall journey is the same. I've been long winded tonight, so I'll make another post with the all the new items in the journey. I can't wait to post what's new. I may even have to pull out pictures! Until next time my friends.
Peace, Love, and still fat,
S
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