The Freedom of Staying Home...

I've been off my game with the COVID-19 restrictions in place, as many of us have. What day is it? Does it really matter? 

Admittedly, this has been harder than it sounded. Initially, I was all on board for this working from

home thing, but the reality is, it is really hard to work from home when 1) you're fighting against the schedule of an unruly 2-and-a-half-year old and 2) you don't have the office comradery to keep you going. What I also didn't realize sitting in my office every day, was my capability for self-thought. It may not have truly been "alone time," but it mimicked that feeling more than I knew. That is all gone now, and I, like many of you, are suffering from it. 

So what are we to do? Keep safe, keep healthy, and try to keep sane. One of the advantages of this stay at home order is that we can reinvent our schedule, or in my case, see what could really fit into it.

Generally, I get up early and am basically fretting about getting to work the entire morning--all activities are rushed or skipped in light of the impending drive to work (which is odd because since having a baby, I've literally never managed to get there on time). Since work is just a room away now, I've been pleasantly surprised to see just what all I can do during those morning hours without worrying about the timing. Enjoy a quiet cup of coffee? Check. Go for a morning jog? Yup. Walk the dog and listen to my audiobook? Yaasss.

One of the hardest parts about working right now, is the question of what I am working for? When will this all end? Is it worth planning for fall, or will it just be all the things that were canceled in winter and spring? Will people even want to do these things once this is over? For me, there is a lot up in the air, and for that reason alone, it is stressful. All those little elements of timing, may not seem like such a big deal, but they are helping with the overall scheme of "life from home" even though it is definitely not the same platform as life in the office.

So, I'm up early. I'm going to try to do what needs to get done, and then I'm going to do me. I'm going to hang out with the little guy and watch Mila and Morple or make endless play-doh snakes. I might even take a nap. I'm going to make something delicious for dinner because I have the time to do it, and I'm going to enjoy the great outdoors if Michigan's weather will permit. I expect soon enough to be sitting back behind my desk, staring at a wall, instead of out my window at home--so live for the day.

Mentally, this is hard. Physically, a few people's waistlines will probably stretch. Emotionally, this could be one of the greatest and worst times of our lives. Seek the advantage in all of it. Oh, and stop judging people on what is or isn't "essential," and stop buying all the stupid toilet paper.

Coronapocalypse...

So y'all are probably wondered what happened to me as it's been a couple

weeks since I've posted. I'm still here, even more so now that I'm working and mommin' from home 24/7. Honestly,coronapocalypse struck in a big way for me.

At work, we had to cancel ALL of our programming--meetings, classes, day trips, and extended excursions--yikes! I say had, but at the point when we did it, it was a conscious choice by yours truly.  I couldn't fathom one of my people getting sick, or worse, and spreading it to others with the same results. Better safe, than sorry, especially in this instance.

Running? Still happening, but still a little random. Hoping to sort that out this week, as I repeat Week 5. It looks like most of life is canceled for the foreseeable future anyhow, so there should be plenty of time to focus.

Work? Still happening from my home command central--nothing like a global pandemic to get you to finally clear off your desk at home! Hours are pretty random--like before anyone else wakes up, and when the tiny person is napping. We do what we can when we can.

Homelife? A LOT of togetherness. In some ways, it's nice to just chill. The active, busy person in me, is secretly dying inside, but now is a time for rest and recharging so we can hit the ground running when life returns to normal. We are trying to stay home as much as possible--but reserving time for the playground, walkies, and runs. I may have to find a new audiobook though...don't think reading The Shining is such a good plan right now...

Food? American has no fear of starving--and neither do we. I tried to stock up as much as possible and work with what we have on hand. Of course, takeout is still available for those days when cooking just isn't in the cards. Everyone has to take a moment (or months) to slow down. Meals at home, time for play, a nap now and again.

So friends, sit back, relax, and stay well. I'm going to try to--and update on the regular schedule again. 

The Politics of Pants...

It's yet again another presidential election year. No matter your stance, we can mostly all agree that pants, much like the presidential candidates, just don't fit right. No matter what size I've been, I've never had a pair of pants that fit exactly right.  I've also never had a candidate for which I was willing to campaign. Mostly it's my Buttigieg that gets in the way.

What's the deal with pants anyway? Women haven't been wearing them all

that long, and maybe that's part of the problem. Who wears the pants in the family? Men...and definitely Amy Klobuchar.

Prior to the 1960s and 70s, most women just didn't wear pants. Unless you had something in your life to do that involved exercise or work, which required more fluidity of movement, you stuck to your skirts. Prior to WWII, even those women that donned slacks remained behind closed doors--something to be worn only at home or work, not in the public eye. Joe Biden and Donald Trump probably remember those days, right?

So pants are a relatively new thing for women, and admittedly, it's hard to get the different curves just right when sewing them into the fabric. Standard sizing is a joke. I could wear a size 4 in one brand, and an 8 in another--ladies cut off your tags! No one should care about her size because it's essentially meaningless anyway, much like Bloomberg's texts.

So what do we do? Make our own garments? Savagely protest societal norms? Burn barrels of Levis, Gloria Vanderbilt, and Lee? Yeah, we don't have time for that. We have careers to run, children to raise, and rights to fight for. Pants shouldn't be the battle we have to fight when we're busy fighting for our place in the White House, the Senate, the board room, or the head of the table. 

Do we just wear skirts? Hell no! I mean, go ahead and wear one if you want, we shouldn't be restricted. *cough* Elizabeth Warren. I just think we should keep complaining. It's 2020--I was promised flying cars 20 years ago. Where are they? The same place that fit technology resides, apparently. We can spot a dime from space with a spy satellite, but we can't make a sensible pair of chinos fit hips? What has NASA been doing for the last few decades, anyway?


So keep up the fight. Political or pants. Wearing slacks doesn't make women more masculine. Wearing pants doesn't make women feminists or butch or radicals. Wearing jeans doesn't suggest that a woman wants trouble or let herself go. Wearing pants is necessary for all the important work we do, and dammit, they should fit. 

Nevertheless, she persisted.  

The Trouble with Thinking...

Do you ever overthink one thing, but maybe not another? You just can't stop thinking about something. It's stuck, right there, in the middle of your brain...? Yeah, me too.

It's true. I can spend days analyzing someone's offhanded comment. I can spend a week wondering what someone's comment in response to my post on Facebook could mean. If something went poorly, I can worry about the repercussions for months. Most of us are like this about something, if not many things, or even everything. I saw a post this week by a friend in this regard, and it hit home.

 Do you ever overthink about what someone else thinks about you? This cartoon series illustrates just that, a boy who turns into a man worrying about every little thing about himself, based on the comments of others. It's pretty true. I've always envied those that should just sluff off a rude remark or hurtful comment--I've always wondered if people really could just ignore these things. I couldn't...I can't.

The first instance I remember someone else's words impacting the way I thought about myself wasn't even a comment about my body, it was rather my mother's thoughts and comments about her own.

She hated having her picture taken. I would mourn this sad truth after her death when there were few good pictures to be found of her. She didn't like the way she looked after gaining weight with kids, and just life. I remember her perpetually trying to lose weight and complaining about her weight (usually in regard to trying to find clothes that fit). I
distinctly remember pointing out a tee shirt I thought was cute and funny of three funky cows--you know, characterized with glasses, pearls, etc.--no words, just happy cows, and it left her in tears. "That's right, mom's a cow," she said. I was maybe 8 at the time.

I was never a heavy kid. I thought all the time about what I looked like (thanks, society), but I didn't think I looked bad at all, not thin, but pretty normal. For most of my youth, I was a tomboy. In eighth grade, we went on a trip to visit my Aunt Betty (a story for another time), and upon our return, my mother commented that she'd lost weight on the trip (miraculous on any trip, right?) Standing on a scale in her bathroom, I commented that I hadn't changed, or maybe even gained a couple pounds on the trip. Peering over at the dial, she said, "you don't want to weight any more than that." I was in eighth grade, people. I had a lot of growing yet to do. I would, in fact, go on to weigh quite a bit more, and at one point, quite a bit less. Later on at a garage sale, (cue me standing on a giant antique scale), she also said, "I didn't think you weighed that much." I wasn't sure how I should take that one.

So what's the point, you say? Not overthinking is hard. I think most of us can't help it. However, we should try to let things go when we can. My mother never meant any harm in her comments, but they did harm--harm to last a lifetime. I can't not see the imperfections in my body. How could it be prevented, though?

As loyal fans know, my mother was, in fact, also my inspiration for trying to get healthier. She had a heart attack and at 30 years of age and more than 45 pounds overweight, I saw my future right before my eyes. That was time for a change.

For all her flaws, and those she instilled upon my brain, mom was still my number one fan. I miss her tremendously and there are times when I still have to stop myself from picking up the phone to
tell her something exciting that happened, or just bitch about life. So when overthinking your flaws, or how much better someone looks or is at something than you, think of the little people you might be influencing. Not the Roloff's, kids, people; I'm talking about your kids.

I didn't care what my mom looked like. Even though her comments about herself or about me made me think about how I looked, I never once gave a second thought to how she looked. I didn't care, she was my mom. (Sidenote, I tell Patton that Hudson has laser eyes and can see in the dark when he goes out in the backyard at night...)Kids probably don't have laser eyes (think how creepy that would be!), but they do have a pretty unique ability to not see the flaws--in themselves (until someone tells them they're there) or in others (until they realize the power that pointing this out can have in the jungles of kid-dom). Kids are great that way.

Feel like walking around without pants because they don't fit? Go for it, kids encourage it. Want to eat chocolate cake for breakfast, lunch, or dinner? Why not? It's the whole reason kids can't wait to be adults. Not in the mood for laundry, so you re-wear yesterday's outfit? Kids hate to ever change their clothes, what's one day? Wish you were taller and thinner? So do the kids, not for how they look, but so they can reach things (I mean, haven't you ever seen BIG?)

Kids are amazing. Let's try not to screw them up.

F.I.T.

So as you can probably tell, since this is going up late in the day, it's been a busy week.  Here at headquarters we have been interviewing and finalizing a new hire to fill my senior secretary position. Besides interviews, we have been plugging away at the final details of the spring/summer catalog that will be coming out in March. 100 or so classes later, phew!

This week also marked the second week of the C25k program for me. Highlights include not dying and successfully completing each day. Next week the stakes go up as the running intervals increase to 2 minutes at a time. I also got a workout tank that says "FIT: F@!% I'm tired," and it's not untrue. Been more tired than ever this week and I'm not sure if it's the running or fighting off the illness the boys had the last couple weeks. Hoping it's just the physical adjustment. Added sugar for Valentine's Day didn't help the equation either.

That being said, it's also been a week of weird eating with a couple busy nights and an evening of leftovers. March is reading month, so I'm thinking of re-reading my cookbook collection to find some fast and furious, yet delicious, meals. I feel like we're in a meal funk. It's hard to come up with new items that are just enough for 3 and not 10 and not primarily pasta (which I'm not a fan of--looking at YOU Rachel Ray) or liquor (which Semi-Homemade Sandra Lee WAS a fan of). 

Also, enough with the snow and frigid temps already, Michigan. The loaner car I have can
detect my trashcans next to it but has a hard time steering away from the deep country ditches on the icy roads. I'd rather not get jaws-of-lifed on my way home one night. It's all I can do to keep old red centered. Please, summer, hurry up!

Snowpe

Well Michigan, you really made my return lovely--2 boys with illness and yesterday and today, snow. And not the kind of fun thick snow you can build a snowman with--light fluffy, just-enough-to-make-the-roads-slippery snow. Alas, Phil promised me an early spring (the groundhog, not the plague-ridden guy I live with). Where is it?

This week also marked the kickoff of my adventure with the Couch to 5k program. I didn't follow it when I originally started running but followed the same basic principle without the structure--run/walk until you can run the whole time. I was a lot more motivated seven years ago, however, so I figured following a program (insert 12-step joke here) would probably be my best bet this time around. If Britney did it, so can I. The last day of week 1, I will complete today on my lunch break--but with an extra run tomorrow morning with the sister-in-law who is also starting out with the program. 

So what conclusions did I draw from this week? You can eat healthily and

exercise and not lose any weight. Well, there's always next week. Running will eventually make me have lots of energy, but it's making me more tired right now. Mornings were rough this week, but sunlight and more miles will resolve that at some point--the miles may come easier than the sunlight here in Michigan. Support helps, whether self-accountability or other people. Did I want to start that program this week? No, but it was time. I posted to a workout group/page I'm in when I completed a day--sorry guys--and I also checked in with the sister-in-law on her progress and even got pushed into going to yesterday's last-minute run by office partner in crime. She's right, I probably wasn't going out in the snowstorm.

So now what? Just keep moving.

Did I Mention the Pie?

Many of you got a chance to read my adventures this last week in Key West via my travel blog, but what you're really wanting to know is how did intuitive eating go? Meh.

Ultimately, what made it really difficult this last week was the forced meals...ok, "included" meals, if you like. I forgot that I wouldn't necessarily get a choice on when I felt like eating versus when it was dinner time. There was also included pie--key lime pie! When in Rome...right?

Our early morning on day 1, also made it hard to get back on track. After everyone else went to bed, I still had work to do. This just made it hard to catch up on sleep and really be conscious of monitoring my hunger. Also, did I mention the key lime pie?

No worries! This week is another week and chance to get back at it--also, February already! The one advantage of travel is that I log an average of 8 miles a day on my feet. 

This week also mark's the start of training for that 5k. It will be harder to train in the Michigan cold after the Key West warmth, but home is home. Also, there were key lime pie donuts too. #RunTheMitten

A Diet Riot...

This last week I spent some quality time evaluating my life--well habits anyway.

I came to a few conclusions: I can make really healthy and delicious meals (like the sumptuous shrimp stir fry you see to your right), I enjoy exercising (to an extent, I'm not sure I'll ever be on board with swimming for anything other than recreation--wet, meh), I have a pretty serious sugar addiction post kiddo, and I'm too tired to meal prep more than a day ahead of time (and seriously, I generally regret whatever I've packed for my lunch the night before...Tuesday Me doesn't feel like eating Monday Me's idea of a delicious salad).

I also had some thoughts on these conclusions and inadvertently did a little research (I know, most of you don't stumble into research, but hey, it can happen). Foremost, I have to figure out some way to eat better without diet guilt. What, you say, is "diet guilt?" Diet guilt is a term I just made up (because if George W. Bush can do it, so can I--I'm the decider)--n. the distraught feeling a person gets when they have gone off their diet, often resulting in complete nutritional sabotage.

A study I recently read, revealed that diets, in and of themselves, are unhealthy. Any longtime followers of my blog (and life) know that I agree wholeheartedly with this. All things in moderation. Carbs are not evil. etc. etc. This study proclaimed that when you restrict your food intake--whether by calories, carbs, whole foods, or whatever--you are more apt to break free from this restriction with major consequences--i.e. I already ate one cupcake that I shouldn't have...so I'll eat six more and start over again tomorrow. In doing so, you feel incredible guilt--diet guilt--and like a failure. 

This is the story of my life for the past few years. I stayed away from the wacky diet trends--because I know they're only a temporary (if at all) fix, and tried to focus on eating low calorie--but it was hard. I was thinking to myself, "Self...how did I manage to do this before and lose weight without starving?" The answer has two parts: 1) I was dedicated and it took me six months of being careful and exercising religiously to lose the initial weight, and 2) I eventually started running (like, a lot) and was able to eat more without thinking too much about that calorie count. Part 1 did allow me to focus on real food instead of the processed junk I was used to, and that was a good thing overall, but 2 made me feel good mentally and physically--and it wasn't about the calories.

So, I should know how to eat right, right? I do, but it's clouded by sugar cravings and tiredness (and I'm going to go ahead and blame my kid here, because keeping another person alive is more serious work than I realized, and I have never been so exhausted in my life--that's how kids change your life, right there.) What can I do? 

Eat more intuitively.

Huh? My research revealed that the answer to most people's dieting problems is

to get off the diets and eat. Eat when you feel hungry and what you really want to consume--if you don't love it, don't eat it. Stop. Think about what your body wants and needs, then decide what and when to consume it. Reading about intuitive eating was a revelation for me.  It should be obvious to us all, but we get sidetracked by modern life, the abundance of food here in the U.S. (what exactly are impossible burgers? veggie straws?), and our all too busy lifestyles--Americans are, in fact, the hardest working people overall in the world.

For most of my life, I think I've ignored the cues my body gave me about what to eat or drink and when. I snacked. I ate three meals a day. I skipped meals. I ate healthily. I ate not so healthily. Just what did I want to do? What out of the last 30-plus years did I really want to eat? Time to refocus.

So, this next week and beyond, I'm going to give the intuitive thing a shot. Stop, hey, what's that sound? It's my stomach rumbling. When I feel hungry I will eat something--something delicious and nutritious--until I'm not hungry anymore. It should be interesting because I'm headed on a work trip tomorrow to sunny Key West. (Follow my daily travel adventures HERE). Luckily, eating intuitively should work anywhere.

If Deana Carter and Bobby Flay Had a Baby...

Well, it's been a few years since I last touched base--and a lot has happened within that time! Reflecting on that the past couple of weeks, I decided to dig up the blog again and try to get it rolling. Let me know if you like it, and I'll try to keep it up.

When last we met, I had just run my first marathon in the spring of 2014--the Kalamazoo Marathon. Over the past five or so years I ran a second marathon--BayShore--up in Traverse City, and ran my first, (and maybe only) ultra--31 grueling miles in 90+ degree heat. I also did a Tough Mudder (not my favorite), and a Warrior Dash. I also lost a good running buddy, April, who I think about often, even more than a year after her death--and met a lot of really cool new running friends when I schlepped through the Ragnar Road Race just this past September.

I also dove into politics and won (and got re-elected) a seat on my local school board as a Trustee.  For the last several years I've also served as the President. I also moved almost right next to the schools, as we bought a house in town. Yay for sidewalks!

About three years ago, I started a new, full-time job at SVSU, where I serve as the director of their lifelong learning program for people age 50 or better. Which, in and of itself, has been an adventure. I've met so many interesting people along the way, both in our members and instructors and speakers; I even get to travel to far off places on occasion. I also have an awesome staff; we're small but mighty.

Finally, we decided to have a tiny person! "P," now almost two and a half is sometimes annoying, but always amazing.  I still can't believe I made him! He is always on the move, and it's pretty fascinating to watch him go from blob to walking, and from googling to talking. He keeps me on my toes, for sure. I'm also sure that being able to name all the characters on Peppa Pig is a valuable life skill to have, right?

In general, it has been a great five-plus years since I last posted, but how is the healthy part of me doing? Well, I've been healthier--I've definitely eaten better in the past and been fitter--but the reality is, hey I'm tired and I work full time. I try to make dinner most nights, but when P mostly sustains a diet of chicken nuggets, PB&J, and quesadillas, it's hard to find the motivation to get all Bobby Flay. I did keep up running while pregnant with P and ran a 5k every month before I had him. He was a might tiny though and had to stay in a tiny crystal palace for a couple of weeks in the NICU. I also had to take a break for about a month and a half after having surgery. Running has been touch and go ever since, and nothing regular.

I'm a little sad about this! Running was like, my thing. I just can't find the time though. I still exercise every day and walk Hudson every bearable day (it is Michigan winter after all), but there is something about the timing of everything and my place mentally keeping me from taking the plunge back into it.

Pretty soon, however, I won't have a choice.  I have promised my sister-in-law a 5k run before she turns the dreaded 3-0. "I still remember when 30 was old..." She has a list of things that should be done before then, and running a 5k is on it. What're 3 miles between friends?

So, it's time to get it in gear. Time to chug down some caffeine and shove myself out the door. I'll try not to trip on my own feet on the way out.

The Bacon Station, Buster Bronco, and Popsicle Hill: Surviving the Marathon

Looks like I missed April's post--my apologies to my loyal fans!  Hopefully with summer break, posts will become more regular!

Last Sunday I ran my first marathon--that's right, 26.2 miles of asphalt--around the lovely town of Kalamazoo, Michigan.  I gave myself a week to recover before writing this post, so I could fully discuss both the "in the moment" feelings and after effects of marathoning.  Luckily, unlike Pheidippides, I survived my marathon and am here to tell the story.  They'll be no Homerian rhetoric here--only the unbiased perspective of a true historian. :)

I've Got a Gal from Kalama-zoo zoo zoo...
Ok, let me just say, I was scared to death to run this race.  It's not like I was trying to win, just finish, but 26+ miles is a long way to go and what with the epically awful winter Michigan experienced, I was doubting my training a bit.  So, to ease my mind a bit, I traveled down to Kzoo well in advance--the Friday before my Sunday race.  I used this time to get comfortable in my hotel room, see a few friends, pick up my race packet, and drive to the race start to ogle the parking situation.  If I had been able to see the race course in detail on the tiny internet map printout, I may have attempted to drive it...I certainly thought about doing this.  Needless to say, this may have been overkill on my part.  I know Kzoo, the home of Western Michigan University, where I slogged away at my Ph.D. for several years...part of the reason I chose this marathon...but like I said, I was pretty nervous.

So Much Food, so Little Time...
Eating in the day or two leading up to the race, I was also a little cautious.  Of course, one of the things I loved about the Kalamazoo area was all the non-chain restaurants, so I still wanted to take advantage of that perspective too.  I didn't eat anything too adventurous, but tried to choose well-rounded meals that were not too heavy.  Despite the carb-loading concept, I did not eat excessive amounts of pasta--I didn't eat ANY, in fact.  Frankly, I'm really not much of a fan, and I wanted to steer clear of anything I wouldn't normally eat, so again, I chose well-balanced, protein-veggie-carb rich meals, and also tried to choose lower-fat options.  No fast food!  I may have eaten a few too many brownies at the Martini-Zeller Cinco de May Day party, but I figured, if ever there was a time to indulge in some extra chocolate, probably the night before I run damn near 30 miles, right?

"Make it Memorable"--Race Day!
The catch phrase of the Kalamazoo Marathon was "make it memorable"--something to do with the fact that while not the largest marathon, they have great community participation, so it's a good time-type race.  And after a discussion with my friend Bill about marathoners reinvigorated by cheering crowds and creative signage, I thought I should really try to 'make it memorable' myself...

So, I tuned into the race and off my iPod.  Now, that's a long way to run without music, listening to myself huff and puff, so I turned my iPod on, set it to start tracking my progress, but didn't bother putting the earphones in...until, oh, mile 8 or so.  Instead, for the first leg of the race, I enjoyed the crowds--it was chilly and oh so very windy that day, but I appreciated the "Great Job Random Runner!" and "Smile, You're Not Wearing Underwear!" signs along the way, which did make you lose track (for a while anyway) that you still had to run a zillion miles.

Excitement Zones--No Strippers Here!
The other fascinating aspect of this race was the so-called "excitement zones," including the famous "Bacon

Station," which even made the news due to its awesome bacony-ness.  The first one I came to was on the campus of Western Michigan University.  Here, Buster Bronco and friends were out to sling water and rev up the runners...but they were kind of a disappointment.  I mean, Buster looked pretty hung over if you ask me.  The highlight of the WMU campus crew was really the pair of students randomly singing "Eye of the Tiger"--complete with dancing and gestures.  They totally made mile 6.

As the race weaved into the residential areas of the 'Zoo, I ran across random people with extra water for runners (AVOIDed these people--Kalamazoo water, not known as the greatest...), people who made their own food for runners or handed out candy (again--AVOIDed--I didn't want to get slogged down by a fly-by-night consumed Red Vine at mile 12 or something).  And then there were the block-party-esque excitement zones...

THE BACON STATION
True to its name, this was a half a block-long party with people wearing fruit costumes, bands playing, and yes, people handing out 30+lbs of salty, porky deliciousness to runners.  I did not partake in the bacon--it just seemed like a bad idea...but the guy running next to me told me it was "the whole reason he decided to run this race!"

GIRL SCOUT COOKIE TIME
Further down the way, you ran across the girl scouts, handing out cookies, groups handing out gummy bears and much more weirdness.  Fun? Yes...but I was dead set on finishing this thing, so I stuck to my own fuel, water, and Gu Brew to get me through.  Plus, I planned to eat a bunch of delicious Sweetwater's Donuts afterwards, so I could stand to wait.

POPSICLE HILL
The only foodstuff I decided to partake in along the raceway was the Popsicles handed out at the top of the last big hill before the finish--the station dubbed "Popsicle Hill" as a result.  I think the last time I ate a grape Popsicle, I was like 8, but let me tell you, any Popsicle tastes pretty darn good after running 23 miles.

This is Great! What was I thinking? Strong Finish! Let's do it again!
Despite all the distractions provided by the Kalamazoo Marathon, one thing was for sure--it was still a really long time to run.  Though some interesting characters provided entertainment value along the way--the older, portly gentleman running his first marathon (who, at packet picket, got a "You're running a marathon?!" from race staff) and his companion runner lady friend, who kept telling him there was "no way" he was going to run a 7 hour marathon...the 30-something couple who complimented and quizzed me on my hydration belt for a mile or so...the pair of neon-yellow clad men from whose conversation I learned that some runners mix beer and chia seeds in one of their water bottles because it keeps their muscles relaxed (yuck)-- it's true, you inevitably reach a point where you're just bored from running. 

For the first 19 or so miles, I was feeling pretty good.  Though the wind was really awful that day and I seemed to be always running into it, the sun was out, and it was not as horrifically cold or hot as it could have been.  However, miles 20-23 were really the hardest--physically and emotionally for me. 

In those last few miles, the crowds had thinned, and I was left with my own thoughts.  I had set my sights on

finishing around 5 hours, and at this point, the "5:00" pacer team finally passed me (though come to find out, they were way ahead), and this was a bit depressing.  Thought about everything over the last few months, what mom would say if she knew I was doing this (proud no doubt, but would think I was crazy), how awful the winter had been, and how I didn't have anyone waiting for me at the finish line (because Phil had car issues and couldn't make it down).  All of this was just too Debbie Downer...and on top of it, by that point in the race...everything was starting to hurt.  Knees were pinching with every step, feet were sore, legs were getting stiff, and while all this was easy to ignore with the uptick of adrenaline provided for the first part of the race, and extended by the crowds for a while, it was all catching up to me now.  The mythological "wall"? Perhaps.

But then, I saw the black spandex-clad, sports-bra wearing, otherwise topless, race warrior from the starting line...and guess what, she was walking.  Then I saw fellow-FSARCer, Frank, and he was walking...I assumed he had long since finished...and suddenly, I knew I could do it.  

Admittedly, the last miles were not pretty--lots of running, walking, "ow"ing, but then for the last mile or two, I chit-chatted with the guy near me running--an undergrad at WMU in political science.  He was fresh out of the military and figured, he was used to running every day, so this should be no big deal--even he was ready to give up.  We kept each other company the last leg and ran across the finish together.  He thanked me for being a delightful distraction.

And at the finish line, just what, or rather whom, did I see? But one of my former students at WMU and friend, John!  And then just moments later, my friend Elizabeth!  Refreshed by the appearance of friends, the pain seemed to rapidly dissipate--stiffness remained that night, even after extensive stretching, but a lot of it was mental.  And after a day or two of contemplation--I would do it all again...I'd like to do better training beforehand, but yeah, I'd do it again!  I must be a special kind of crazy.

The Stairmaster and Beyond
So, just for full effect, I did drag myself up and down the stairs at my hotel that evening and next morning, just to satisfy the FSARC crowd that had done their first marathoning a few weeks before--but really, I didn't have much of an issue.  My calves were sore for a day or two, but my knees were OK--maybe it was all those squats I did for the squat challenge the month before? Maybe it was the awesome pain-killing drugs I took the night after the race? Maybe it was the fact I sat in my jacuzzi tub in my hotel room for a while that night? Who knows!  All I know is that pain wasn't really an issue--thankfully!

What was an issue was fluid retention in the days following the race.  Now, I drank lots and lots and lots of extra water right after the race, but the next two or three days, my legs and ankles were really swollen.  Compression sleeves at night helped, as did more water, and the swelling went down, but that was the most alarming physical issue I had. 

As for running--I gave myself about three days off from doing ANYTHING physical--then ran an easy three miles.  Waited a day in between, and ran again for three miles...felt OK, so have returned to regular daily running--but have not yet done a long run.  Hoping to get one in later this week in preparation for my big marathon relay with my friend April and team "Length does Matter" coming up on Sunday. :)

After all was said and done, I feel pretty accomplished.  No, I didn't run fast.  No, I didn't get the race done in four hours or less.  But...I did it! And now, I know...I believe...I can--which is a feeling that had lacking a bit in the past few months.  I'm glad it's back. 

 

Bourbon and Spice, and Everything Nice...

And just what are little girls made of, you ask? Why, "sugar and spice, and everything nice," of

course.  This response, told to me often by my grandmother, was meant to stand in stark contrast to the inevitably more disgusting, and conceivably far more disturbing, "snips and snails, and puppy dog tails" that made up little boys.  I'm certain in its original form this was meant to reinforce the gentle and nurturing nature of women versus the more masculine and rugged disposition of the socially acceptable male.  However, it's 2014, and with Michigan on the cusp of actually, sort of, (let's hope so), joining the modern world and allowing same sex couples to marry, I think we can safely dispose of the separate spheres once and for all, and let the cult of domesticity go down with the likes of the Manson Family and Branch Davidians--in a fiery failure brought on by its own inability to portent widely acceptable standards (you know, minus that whole murder thing.)

So, this begs the question, what are girls made of today? Or rather, what are modern women made of?  Martha Stewart, domestic goddess that she is, who could de-bone a chicken and throw a perfect cocktail party with the best of 1950s womanhood, has illustrated that modern woman can both "bring home the bacon...and fry it in the pan" (I mean, Martha would probably be frying up some kind of fancy, imported bacon, made from pigs who had their own personal masseuses and nutritionists during their stint on the rolling hills of the Schweinecke region of Germany or something, but she would still be able to fry the hell out of it.)

Modern woman is, and should be, made of whatever she pleases.  Be it sugar and spice, and everything nice, from her bouffant hair to her patent leather heels, cocktail in hand for her husband when he arrives home from work...to leather and Harleys...or business tweed. 

Admittedly, I have been struggling with my own self definition lately as a modern woman, hence

the logic behind this post.  Recently, I went on a vacation road trip to Florida for Spring Break (mostly to escape the lingering Polar Vortex), and due to other business obligations, my husband was unable to go along with me.  Me, being me, went anyway, alone.  Personally, I saw nothing wrong with this...I had gone on plenty of solo research trips before...I had the time...and I had some spare cash set aside--so why not?

Needless to say, numerous different people have expressed a kind of "shock" at my solo vacation.  Really? I'd like to think that my husband and I are each individuals...and while married, still possess our own separateness as well--we have separate activities, separate careers, and things we do together.  He made it clear he'd take some crazy risks in life--I made it clear I'd never be a barefoot and pregnant, stay-at-home, Suzy Homemaker.  The deal was done.

Unfortunately, circumstances change and things don't always happen the way we wish they would.  Part of my solo trip was also a chance to take the cliched luxury of "finding myself" or perhaps figuring out just what I was made of.  And what did I find?  Sorrow. Anxiety.  Anger.  Disappointment. 

What would I have found a year ago? Something entirely different, I'm imagining, but a lot can go down in a year, and a lot has gone down in the last year for me.   Not that life is bad, in fact, it's actually pretty awesome by most people's standards--but it's not the same life I thought I'd have at this point--not the same life I planned to have at this point...and that causes me great amounts of stress.  I've always been a planner, an organizer, someone who has things done weeks ahead of when they need to be, and ambitious to a fault--and when things don't fall into place, it freaks me out.

So why the rant?  Well, after figuring out what I'm currently made up of, I've found myself relegated to the more sugar and spice type lifestyle that I personally, never liked and never wanted.  I was always more of a snips and snails kind of girl--give me blue jeans over a skirt any day.  Now I find myself at home most days because I only profess to the masses part time, banished to the kitchen to make dinner for my husband every night.  The real problem?  I was feeling forced into the Suzy Homemaker role.  I actually like being at home...and even like to cook...and I really don't mind cleaning--but it's the very idea that I have to do it because it's my role that tortures me.

You see, even I lost sight of modernity for a moment.  Despite being an historian, and having an appreciation for the past and all its social constructs, I was fighting hard to avoid being pigeon-holed into what I viewed as that uber-tradionale role for women.  In reality, people, myself included, should do what they have to do, to make life work.  Case in point? The television show Modern Family (one of the few I can stand to watch--so check it out if you've never seen an episode!)  Modern can clearly mean a lot of different things!

For the last few weeks since my trip, I've been trying to accept this concept.  Yes, I cook dinner--not because I have to, but because I want to (I mean, I'd rather eat something healthy and homemade, and really, even if hubby wasn't coming home, wouldn't I still make myself dinner?)  So, I've taken up new food adventures in the kitchen--new recipes, new techniques, etc.  I'm kickin' up the Flavor Town highlights a notch, y'all.  It's a good thing.  Tonight's adventure was my own riff on barbeque sauce, and I've included my recipe below...

Likewise, I was perhaps feeling resentful that my career has suffered for my husband's. But you

know, I love teaching and always have (despite temporary bouts of student insanity and lots of moments when you wonder just what planet they've beamed in from).  Yes, it would be nice to be getting paid what I'm worth (cue world's smallest violin--all teachers, everywhere can definitely understand the pay gap--trust me, it doesn't end at the ivy-covered gates of the university either).  And yes, to have a full-time position where I'd have better resources for going about my own research and writing would be great, but I also get to avoid the nasty departmental politics and obligatory meetings that go along with those jobs and so often force teaching to become a secondary interest for professors (There are no podiums in the classroom! There are no white board markers in the rooms--god forbid I have to carry my own!).  And, something that has become much more significant in recent months, my lack of full-time career has allowed me to stay close to family when it mattered most.

So, overall, modern woman--and modern man too--can be made up of anything and still "work" in today's society.  It's not all sugar and snails anymore...

Flannel Bikinis and Snow Blowers...

Well hello again old friends...

I know, it's been a while...a long while.  Since September 2013, in fact.  I've been meaning to get back on the blogosphere since January, but have been suffering from a serious lack of motivation after the trying fall/winter I've had.  Additionally, Michigan has been doing its best to kill my soul, one snowflake, one degree under 0' at a time.  She is a cruel weather mistress and even today as I type this, we are expecting everything she's got--snow, rain, sleet, and temps into the 40s before dipping to the freezing point again.  What a fashion dilemma--flannel bikini or rain galoshes for today's wardrobe choice?

However, after reading my friend Andrea's post about her weight loss frustration, I decided it was high time to get back to it and lend motivation where I could--as we appear to still be basking in the afterglow of New Year's Resolutions and I can feel the tension mounting in workout facilities across the area--the breaking point between the regular gym nuts and the resolution crowd--just one cookie away from falling off the wagon.

So, I'll start out by sharing my own story of winter woes along with offering some sage advice...

For those of you who don't follow me on Facebook, this last fall and winter has been an extremely difficult one.  Already bogged down by a busy semester, I found out at the beginning of September that my mom had been diagnosed with a mysterious cancer, already at Stage 4,basically untreatable and terminal.  A month of tests later, and doctors still weren't sure just what type of cancer--but the end result would be the same no matter.  Given six months to a year to live, mom unfortunately had to say her goodbyes much sooner, and we lost her at the beginning of November...

Needless to say, everything else in life, got put on hold.  Daily life continued, a shadow of what it had been.  Things got done, but lacked the usual enthusiasm, desire replaced by necessity.  We schlogged through the holidays--mom's favorite time of the year--and her absence was all too noticeable.  Making it through, my brothers, father, and I, came out a little stronger on the other side, but a whole lot sadder.  For me, the baby of the family, the hardest part was and is, the thought of all the things mom won't be there for--buying our first house, having kids, etc.  All the things she would have relished being a part of.  

Despite all this, life must go on for the living.  After spending nearly a solid week in a germ-infested hospital--a nightmare for germophobes like me--along with surviving primarily on vending machine chips and cookies from the nurses, I came down with a vicious cold that refused to die.  I think I was sick for a solid month, at least.  Getting well and surviving the holidays became the primary objective of December...and my regular healthy habits suffered.

From fall to winter, I gained about ten pounds.  Not a substantial amount by most people's standards, especially considering that I had been well under my goal weight at the end of summer's running season--but enough to make me paranoid.  Depressed, sick, sleeping more, and running less, I monitored my weight daily per usual, but found it difficult to bring down--or the numbers seemed to go up and down on a daily basis.

Holidays behind me and feeling a little better each day, I was ready to hit the pavement again!  Signing up for a full marathon in May, I began my training at the beginning of the year--the same time everyone else decided they were going to lose weight.  Unfortunately, Michigan had other plans...the Polar Vortex--a term we've come to despise here in the Mitten--entered our lexicon for the first time, bringing with it a barrage of sub-zero temperatures and even lower wind chills.  Cold, I can handle.  Snow, I can handle.  -25', two feet of snow, and 40 mph winds, I cannot handle.  I turned to the exercise bike, treadmill, and gym--which do the job as far as burning calories, but are not the same as logging miles and far more difficult to do for any length of time. An hour, tops!

My story...so here I am, February, back to slowing losing those winter pounds, running when I can and hoping to just make it through that marathon come May, all previous time goals aside...

Sage advice...don't sign up for a marathon! No, just kidding.  My advice is the same as it has been since starting this journey--count calories, eat sensibly, and exercise vigorously for at least 30 minutes a day, at least five days a week.  

In recent months, people have talked to me and acted like "you became a runner, that's how you lost weight--that won't work for me, I can't run!"  People!  My weight loss journey started out, just as yours did--and as you can tell by recent months, has still not been an easy one--I started out simply walking quickly after dinner (the goal is to sweat!) and counting calories on the app on my phone/computer.  It took months and months, and forty pounds of weight gone before I even gave the idea of running a second thought.  

Some real advice for people out there--avoid the fad diets.  This is a warning to be heeded

especially at this time of year when they run rampant in advertisements all across America's televisions.  While you may lose weight drinking shakes, eating pre-boxed, pre-portioned meals, cutting out flour, cutting out sugar, or drinking nothing but grapefruit juice while spinning counter-clockwise, you will never be able to keep this type of diet up in the long run, and never be able to keep the weight off.  

Diets are fads...a healthy eating plan is a lifestyle change that requires a great deal of effort to implement.  You can't just go to a store and pick up a box of "get healthy" and pull it out every night for dinner--you have to think about what you're putting into your body and what you want to get out of it.  Read the labels, count the calories, watch portion size, and buy from the perimeter of the store (fresh produce, lean meats, and lean dairy).  It may seem easier to just buy prepackaged meals--but they won't change the way you *think* about eating, which is really the key to living a healthy lifestyle.  Once you stop eating them, you'll return to your old ways.

Likewise, beware friends who preach to simply "eat better."  Yes, you'll no doubt lose weight by cutting out fast food, beer, or pop/soda, but it won't be much--unless it was a staple of your diet--in which case, you may want to contact a support group while you're at it!  Most Americans have no concept of how many calories are in something.  Just telling someone to eat more veggies, fruit, etc. can be  step in the right direction, but these foods still contain calories and lack the balance of protein with carbohydrates that your body needs to function successfully each day.  Stop, look, and Google.  Pineapple is healthy!  Yes, but high in sugar--how about a cup of strawberries instead?  Green beans on the buffet are a good choice!  Yes, but are they drenched in butter?  One tablespoon of fat = 100 extra calories.  A chicken sandwich is a smarter option than a hamburger--maybe...is it deep fried?  Is there mayonnaise on it? Is it on a larger bun than a burger would be? Get the hamburger.

Spoken like a true academic, knowledge, is power.  The effort you put in, will equal the effort you get out, even if it seems to take a bit longer than a crash diet, and you'll start to replace that fat with muscle, which will make you stronger and leaner in the long run...so you'll look great in that flannel bikini!

 

The Healthy Historian's Healthier Hummus from the Bean & Beet Symposium

Who doesn't love hummus? And it's already awesome for you...but this version, slightly altered from a recipe I recently acquired at the Michigan Bean & Beet Symposium, is about ten calories less per serving than the store bought version, cheap and easy to make, and makes about 2lbs of hummus.

1 lb. dry white beans, rinsed, & soaked

1 head garlic, roasted with olive oil until soft

32 oz vegetable broth

2 1/2 t. cumin

2 1/2 T olive oil

2 1/2 T Tahini

Juice from 1 large lemon

Cook the pre-soaked beans in the vegetable broth by bringing all to a boil in a large pot, then reducing to a simmer for 1 hour until much of the liquid has been reduced and the beans are mushy.  

Drain the beans, reserving the remaining broth.  Remove garlic cloves from head of roasted garlic and add to beans in the bowl of a food processor.  Add cumin, Tahini, olive oil, and lemon juice to food processor.  (I used any pooled oil leftover from roasting the garlic first, then filled in the remaining amount of olive oil with extra-virgin).

Process bean mixture until smooth or desired consistency, adding reserved vegetable broth as needed.  Enjoy on low-calorie pretzels, pita chips, veggies, etc.

59 calories per 2T serving compared to store bought 70 calories per 2T.