WeVerb14: Day 4 – Rebuild

Rebuild: What do you plan to pick up or rebuild this year?

health-quotes-sayings-being-healthy-lifestyle

[source]

We can rebuild her. We have the technology. We can make her better than she was before. Better…stronger…faster.

Our work is never over.

Ahem. Sorry, Daft Punk has that kind of effect on me.

So in 2014, my plan is to rebuild myself. I won’t lie – I’m not in a very happy place with my weight at the moment. Even though I carry my weight well, I’m extremely self-conscious about my waistline. I alternate between grabbing and trying to conceal the extra bulge. I get nervous and anxious when the mister hugs me and rubs my back because “The Bulge!” This is not a good way of living.

My goal is not to become skinny but to simply be healthy. I miss the confidence I had in myself when I was healthier, I miss not worrying about “The Bulge,” and I definitely miss the energy I had. My plan is simple two-step process: snack less and move more. Genius, right?

Part 1: Snack less. Since I started working from home, I noticed  my snacking grew exponentially. When I was at an office, I only ate what I had on hand in my desk so often I’d just suck it up and push through any slight craving. But now that I’m home and have access to the kitchen, if I feel even slightly hungry, I head to the kitchen for something. While I’m not sure if I can reduce the amount of snacking I do, I can at least swap my snacks of whatever’s on hand (usually toast) for fruit or small servings of cheese. Also, I’d like to inject some more vegetables into my diet just because.

Part 2: Move more. I always feel better when I’m being active, whether through sports or working out. I always run into trouble during the winter months when I don’t run and I need to find some outlet for movement. That was why I started going to the gym. But then I realized that I’m not accountable to the gym and because it was just a “weight and machine” only gym (which was why it was only $10 a month!) I became bored quickly and didn’t want to go anymore. So I quit the gym (thankfully it was less painful than that) in favor of classes where the routine changes and I’m held accountable for attending. The barre classes I’m taking are amazing and I always feel pumped after class. It’s surprisingly tough (especially on the thighs!) but I feel so accomplished when I manage hold a plank longer than before.

My plan isn’t revolutionary but it will hopefully lead to healthier habits and a lifetime of feeling fabulous.

You can’t outrun pancakes and bacon

It’s been a long time, I shouldn’t have left you. Without a dope post to read through.

Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.

You remember my last attempt at running the Healdsburg Half last year and how I spent the majority of the race alternating between being pumped and being miserable while pretending to run and then ultimately walking? To make up for that laughable experience, I was determined to turn in a better race this year (that competitive nature of mine strikes again) and spent the summer training. I was serious about it: I signed up for 2 races (a 5k and a 10k) and set up personal mileage goals to keep me motivated, bought a new pair of running shoes to reduce blisters (my other shoes were too tight) and even accidentally picked up fancy custom insoles (yes, accidentally). See, serious. I hit a good stride with my training and was well on the way of meeting my goal of 13 miles by the end of September, leaving me with enough time to hit 14 miles before the race. Needless to say that didn’t happen.

Even though my last month of training stalled due to weird weather systems, weddings, birthday parties, visitors, and general oversleeping, I still felt pretty good that I would be able to deliver a decent performance this time around. The morning of the race soon came and I dragged the mister out of his warm bed so he could stand around in a random vineyard too early in the cold, dark morning with a bunch of strangers. That’s love.

Trentadue Winery - Healdsburg Half

The calm before the storm.

I was very awake very early in the morning.

Soon we were off and I was feeling really good. The race directors created a new route so I couldn’t really gauge where I was in reference to the end of the race, but we did run through parts of last year’s course so that was fun. Aside from seeing what other people dressed up as, one of my favorite things about this race are the girls from Girls on the Run at the aid stations throughout the course. They were always ready with cheers, smiles, and encouragement. I looked forward to seeing them while passing an aid station and was a bit bummed when I passed a station and they weren’t there. Those cheers does wonders to a runner’s soul. At the last one, some of the girls gave out stickers to runners so I stopped to get some (also, it gave me a great excuse to walk).

hbh 2013 - stickersEnjoying my new stickers
[Source: Finishers Pix]

Overall, while my time was longer than last year (my official time was 3:16:03), this was a much better experience. I was in such a good mood and feeling my music so much that I wanted to stop for a dance break in the middle of the race. Instead, I ended up singing along to a few of the songs, but not too loudly since  I can’t carry a tune in a bucket. Anywho, since I wasn’t busy bemoaning how miserable I felt, I spent my time thinking about food. Around mile four, I started thinking about how amazing bacon would be. Then somewhere around mile six I started obsessing over pancakes. Bacon. Pancakes. Pancakes. Bacon. OMGIWANTBACONPANCAKES!

Then I started singing the Bacon Pancakes song:

Do you know how distracting it is trying to run while thinking about pancakes and bacon? I was so hungry that the race felt like it was never going to end. Each step brought me closer to pancakes and bacon. I started counting down the miles separating me from pancakes and bacon around mile nine. Four miles until pancakes and bacon. Three miles until bacon and pancakes. Two miles until pancakes and bacon. I nearly lost my mind when I passed the 13 mile marker.

hbh 2013 - finishI’m excited for two reasons: 1: I’m done and 2: PANCAKES AND BACON!
[Source: Finisher Pix]

My phone promptly died shortly after crossing the finish line so I don’t have my customary post-race photo, or one of my stickers, or of my plate of pancakes and bacon from IHop. Yes, we stopped at IHop on the way home because when you’ve been thinking about pancakes and bacon for almost 10 miles, you get pancakes and bacon.

And they were the best pancakes and bacon ever.

Don’t call it a diet

Last November I embarked on an effort to get healthier. I had gained a lot of weight and wasn’t happy with that. So my plan was to go back to the gym and start cooking more and rely less on processed foods in an attempt to get my eating under control.

I started and it kind of fell off in December (the cooking; the gym thing held on). For the most part, I’ve been hitting my twice a week goal. There were some weeks where I only went once or didn’t go at all but for the most part, I’d make it to the gym. Now that Daylight Savings is here and it’s still light after work, I’m hoping to add a day of running during the week which is important since race season is upon us.

So I’ve been working out, eating more healthily, and planning my meals. I’m trying to snack on fruit more often and even reduced the amount of sugar I consume by simply changing my tea cup (I switched out my 16 ounce cup for a 10 ounce cup) and enacting a one-cup maximum per day. Before, I had been drinking upwards of 2 cups a day, which was technically 4 cups. So it’s like I cut out 3 cups of tea per day. Isn’t math fun? One of my newest obsessions has been steel cut oats. The best thing is you can make a big pot on Sunday and eat them all week long. And the even better part is you can make a big pot in your slow cooker (I have one of those now. Best thing ever!).

So far my efforts have been working. I’ve really cut down on the amount of processed meals I’ve been eating and I feel much better. Combined with the workouts, I’m feeling pretty unstoppable. I’m down 11 lbs so far (and even kept off some of the weight I lost during my church’s annual fast at the beginning of the year) and I’m about 8 pounds away from my goal weight.

There has been some happy changes to my routine so it’s been a little bit of a struggle to maintain my gym nights but I’m encouraged that I’ll be able to keep things up. I like the small changes I’ve made and after almost 5 months, they’re still in tact. I look forward to my gym nights and while trying to figure out what to cook everyday is pretty hard, I enjoy cooking (though I still have my occasional bowl of cereal for dinner).

I’ve made a lot of small changes but do feel this way is more sustainable. I’m optimistic that I’ll be able to lose those last few pounds but mostly I’m excited that I’m on the road to a much healthier lifestyle.

Where we say goodbye to Schmidty, part 2

Not to worry, I totally did not forget that I left you hanging about my surgery to forcibly evict Schmidity from his resting place in my breast. In case you don’t feel like clicking that link, in our last episode, I prepped for surgery by worrying about what I was supposed to wear and bring the day of and trying to eat as much as I possibly could the night before so I wouldn’t wake up hungry. Key takeaways: comfy clothes and Gremlins.

Anywho, the day of the operation went on without a hitch. Basically it’s a lot of “hurry up and wait.” I showed up with my mom to the surgery clinic in the morning, signed in, and waited to be called to register and get my ID bracelet. Then I waited some more before being escorted to the pre-op staging area by the nicest hospital volunteer ever. He was a Korean War vet and noticed that my listed ethnicity was ‘Korean’ (I totally saw him reading my form) and when he called me up, he started practicing the Korean phrases he learned on my mom. And he was pretty good! Great, another non-Korean person who speaks Korean better than me. We both had a good laugh and he shared a few more stories while we made our way to the holding area. He showed me to my bed and left me to myself business as I completely undressed (so much for wearing my good pair of panties, right? I know I’m not the only one who makes sure to wear her good panties at doctor’s appointments) and put on the hospital gown where your naked butt hangs out if you don’t hold it correctly. I had to take another pregnancy test, which was interesting because, remember, I wasn’t allowed to eat or drink after midnight because of the gremlin thing. Okay, it’s because of the anesthesia thing but whatever. Gremlin sounds more fun.

So I waited some more. While I waited, the nurses began to prep me for surgery, attaching several monitoring things on my body and finger, wrapped my legs with some weird pressure cuff, and inserted the IV needle in preparation for the anesthesia. For a moment my mind drifted to my Dad and how he was always hooked up to machines and wondered what he felt as they prepped him for his transplant when I was distracted by Santa Claus. I kid you not. I heard the Korean Vet say something about Santa and another hospital volunteer walked by and I thought, how cute, they nicknamed him Santa because he as a beard. That’s when I saw Santa round the corner. In full gear. I nearly died from the absurdity.

There’s really nothing to do but sit and listen to what’s going on, so I eavesdropped on the conversations happening around my bed. A few beds down, I heard a surgeon talking to a patient about his surgery and I thought he sounded an awful lot like Greg Proops. It wasn’t until my surgeon popped into my area to check up on me that I realized Greg Proops WAS my surgeon! I had been trying to place his voice since we met and I’m glad I didn’t figure it out until then and this made me glad I would be out for the surgery because otherwise I might have trouble taking him seriously.

I got word that the previous surgery was being cancelled and mine would be moved up and there was suddenly a flurry of activity at my bed. I was introduced to my “surgical team:” the RNs and my anesthesiologist (who I made jokes with about wanting to simply wake up at the end), and was prepped for the IV and then waited with my mom, who was called back by then, to get marked up by my surgeon. Then before I knew it, the anesthesiologist injected the sedative into my IV and I was pushed down the hall.

Then this happened:


There may or may not have been dancing fairies and a maypole.

The sedative worked quickly. I’m not sure how far I made it, I know I looked back at my mom as I was wheeled down the hall and I think I remember seeing some kind of operating room but I honestly can’t tell if I actually made it there or if I was remembering the clip from Brenda’s surgery on 90210. Either way, I woke up in recovery with an ice pack on my chest and a nurse checking my vitals, mumbling instructions. Then my surgeon came in and said something about something (I don’t know why they are so intent on talking to you while you’re waking up from the anesthesia).  Then I was wheeled in the last waiting room to make sure everything was kosher before getting the all clear to change and head home.

Thankfully I wasn’t in too much pain following the surgery, nothing a little ice and Vicodin couldn’t fix and I was more excited that I was able to start weening myself off the pain meds the following Wednesday. I was determined to be better since I had a date that Friday with one of my college roommates to tour Alcatraz.

Yeah, I scheduled an outing the week of surgery. I’m that girl.

But in all, I’m glad I did finally opt for surgical removal. It feels good that I don’t have to worry about Schmidty (and the scar I have isn’t so bad!) anymore and I’m believing in God that there won’t be any juniors running around either.

Where we say goodbye to Schmidty, part 1

I made it through my surgery on Monday and Schmidty has been forcibly evicted from my body. I’m recovering at home, helped along by an ice pack and a prescription of vicodin. I don’t know what the incision looks like since the bandage that’s in place practically covers my entire breast and as curious as I am to see it, I’m too scared to peel back the bandage so unless it falls off between now and my post-op appointment I’ll have to just wonder about how it looks.

Since this was my first surgery, the days leading up to it was kind of a mystery. I had a ton of questions mostly surrounded around how to prepare, because I like being prepared like a Boy Scout. What can I expect the day of? What about pain meds? Will I be prescribed something or did I need to buy some OTC? And if so, which kind? What kind of anesthesia was I going to have? How “out” was I going to be? When can I play badminton again (yes, badminton. Sounds weird and random but I decided to play again. Two weeks before my surgery. I never said my timing was the greatest)? What do I wear? I mean, what was I supposed to wear? I couldn’t imagine wanting to zip up a pair of jeans afterwards and dressing super cute seemed a bit misguided. So I did the logical thing: I Googled “what to wear to surgery” which helped me to relax about the one thing I could control: what I wore.

I traded a few emails with my surgeon and discussed a few more of my questions with the anesthesiologist who assured me that I would not see or feel anything. Apparently the setup would be similar to what was shown in that clip from 90210, with a curtain like thing separating my head from the rest of my body so I wouldn’t be able to actually watch what happened. My goal was to get my medication and then wake up in recovery like I did when I got my wisdom teeth pulled. The anesthesiologist said that was what would most likely happen.

I received my appointment time last Wednesday, yes, right before Thanksgiving, and was given this list of things to bring/do that was basically the same as the lists I had previously Googled:

1. Bring my medical card and photo ID
2. Bring a method of payment
3. Come completely natural: no makeup, lotion, deodorant, nail polish, etc
4. Leave valuables at home (no jewelry, including piercings)
5. Wear something comfortable
6. Do not eat or drink after midnight (because I’m a gremlin?). This includes gum and candy. If I needed to take any medication the day of surgery, I can take them with a sip of water. And they are totally not kidding about the sip.

All that was left at this point was to sit and wait. My mom would be taking me to the hospital the day of and based on my prior conversations with the surgeon, this would be an out-patient surgery so I estimated I’d be there for about 5-6 hours before coming back home. Easy peasy right? A few people asked me if I was nervous or scared and I honestly didn’t feel much of anything. I wasn’t nervous or scared because, well, I knew things would turn out fine and it was something that needed to be taken cared of anyway. I had prayed about it on my own and again the Sunday before with my Pastor and felt covered. To be honest, I was kind of weirdly looking forward to it. I don’t know why but that is kind of within character for me. Who looks forward to getting cut and stitched back up? Why can’t I be normal?!

You’ve grown on me…

I don’t remember when I first happened upon the lump in my breast but I do remember waiting a bit before finally getting checked out. Silly, yes, especially considering what we know about the risks of breast cancer and what not, but I think I was a bit afraid of what it could be and kind of told myself it wasn’t a big deal. I did such a great job that I forgot it was there.

It wasn’t until two years ago, that my current doctor noticed the lump and finally made me confront the issue. She was fairly certain it was only a fibroademona, a benign tumor, and scheduled me for a fine-needle aspiration to see if her assumption was correct. My appointment was scheduled the day Michael Jackson died. Freaky, eh? So whenever someone asks me where I was when I heard the news, I get to say I was on my way to get a needle stuck in my breast. Yay! Anywho, the biopsy wasn’t too bad. The doctor was older and very to the point, swooping in to stick a skinny little needle into the lump and give me his preliminary diagnosis (a fibroadenoma) and reassure me that it wasn’t cancer, won’t turn into cancer, and didn’t occur because I was hit really hard in my breast (really? That was an option?) before slapping on a band-aid, handing me a pamphlet (“So You Have a Fibroadenoma…” totally kidding, I don’t remember the name of the pamphlet), and sending me on my merry way.

Up until this point, my only other exposure to a fibroadenoma was a “very special episode” of Beverly Hills 90210:

I will go through everything that is wrong with this depiction in a future post. Possibly with John Madden like telestrations. Oh yes I maybe will!

I had a few questions: what did this mean? How did it get there? What do I do now? Why does Wikipedia refer to them as “breast mice?” WTH, why are there mice in my boobs?! My options for treatment was either take a “wait and see” approach or opt for removal. I picked the path of least resistance (and admittedly, the easier choice of the two) and kept an eye (or hand…hehe) on it. Fast forward to September of this year and the bf started asking questions about it, seemingly concerned about its apparent growth and my disturbingly nonchalant attitude. With his prodding, I returned to my doctor who repeated his concerns with the growth and scheduled me for an ultrasound.

This is where things flipped into light speed: My OB-GYN appointment was on a Friday. She scheduled my ultrasound for three hours(!) later, where the ultrasound tech and doctor didn’t like what they saw and requested a surgery consult, which ended up being scheduled the following Monday. There, I had a core needle biopsy for a final test to make sure nothing’s changed. I received the test results a day or so later and ended with a tentatively scheduled surgery for its removal (apparently they like to remove them when it’s 4cm long. Mine was 5cm. Even my tumors are over-achievers!). A week later I was back in for a pre-op consult where we discussed the procedure and possible complications, two weeks after that I was back to do some blood work for my labs, including a mandatory pregnancy test (I was really tempted to text the bf, “Guess what? I’m NOT pregnant!” but I figured my humor might not go over too well) and a few days after that, spoke with the anesthesiologist about what to expect for surgery.

The thought of having surgery is a little daunting to wrap my mind around. Of course there is the obvious, cosmetic concerns: the scarring, how will my breast look post-surgery (I’m not that well-endowed and at this point, the lump (ooh, double brackets! Anyway, I’ve resisted the urge to name the lump but I can’t hold out any longer: I shall call him “John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt,” but I think I’ll call him Schmidty for short) makes up a small chunk of my breast) and the really important concerns: will I lose feeling in that nipple? Will I be able to breastfeed normally post-surgery. Both of those latter questions are unknowns. It really just depends and I’m the first person the surgeon’s operated on that hasn’t already had kids so up until this point, he hasn’t come across that concern before. Dammit Schmidty!

Oh yeah, that name just paid for itself. IT’S GOLD!

But I’m confident in God that everything will be just fine. I’m covered by Him and will all turn out well. I’m already blessed that it’s not cancer! So hey, point for me.

There’s so much more to say but I won’t say it all now because that would make this one insanely long post about my breast and that’s kind of weird. But I do plan on sharing more of my experience as things wrap up because it’s a narrative that should be shared. So get prepared to know more than you ever needed to know about my boob.

Boom.

Doctor, Doctor

It’s not everyday you can say that you love your doctors, but I definitely do. Honestly, I would hope I would love them since I picked them out. Thanks to my hospital, I’m able to look through the primary doctors (Internal Medicine and Women’s Health) biographies and select whomever I choose to make as my primary doctor(s). This is cool on two levels: one, it’s nice being able to see who my doctor would be and get a little background information on them, and two, I spent a summer going around several hospitals interviewing some of these doctors for my intern project so finally being able to see what some of my work helped to create is really awesome and ego-stoking.

That said, as with a lot of my decisions, I picked my doctors on really random qualifiers (when everything else is the same, what else would you use to pick something?) like whether or not I thought they looked like they would be cool. Yes, I’m shallow. I know that. What are you? New here? In the same vein, I will admit I avoided the doctors that went to Ohio State out of principle. Though, it has to be said that my current OB-GYN was not my initial pick (I believe she ended up being second), but I ended up switching to her after having an appointment with her (when I couldn’t get one with my chosen Doc until 2 months later!) and finding her to be absolutely charming. Anywho, even though I’m relatively healthy and see them probably the minimum amount during the year (basically for my annual check ups) it’s kind of a bummer because when I do show up for an appointment, I’m reminded about how awesome they actually are.

My OB-GYN always seems generally excited to see me. I know she’s probably like that with all her patients, but allow me to feel special okay? She does a great job of keeping the exam light-hearted, which is key because if you’ve ever had a PAP smear then you know how awkward those exams can be. We chat through the whole thing and it really makes the time speed by that much quicker, which I really appreciate. Also? She warms the instruments beforehand. Seriously, A plus.

But my favorite is my Internal medicine doctor. This guy is something else, is pretty interesting, and is the focus for most of my attention. He this big, jovial Asian man who has a pretty loud laugh and a great sense of humor. When I mentioned my frankenfoot, he laughed and countered with his own similar story, he tolerates my incessant questions and knows to wait until I’m done rambling before answering. Though, the main reason why I heart him so and look forward to my appointments with him is simply for the sheer curiosity of what he will be wearing that day.

He has a fashion sense that is really hard to describe but is absolutely fascinating. He has this, urban cowboy vibe going on and I’m often wondering just how tight he can get his pants. And once, he wore a purple paisley shirt with his tight blue jeans and cowboy boots. I nearly fell off the examination table thing. I am in platonic love with his audaciousness. The thing is, I can’t decide if he’s being ironic or if he’s serious with his wardrobe. A big part of me thinks he’s serious. I really hope he is.

Running on Asphalt: Weeks 13 and 14.11

Week 13

I was forced to take this week off due to health reasons. I was getting over a sore throat that decided to get weird [seriously, a sore and visibly swollen throat but with no signs of strep throat or a fever even though I was hot to the touch - even my doctor was bewildered] so my mom suggested that I not risk things and relax. It was a tough week to stay inside since it was absolutely beautiful and would have made for some good running weather.

Week 14

This week was a bit of a struggle since I hadn’t run in over a week so I knew I would have to ease back into my routine. Even though I had mentally prepared myself for a tough return, I was still disappointed that my mileage was way off. It’s not like I could have expected to come back and instantly run 4 miles after not running for a full week but it still burned the ego since I was so excited and ready to get back out on the pavement. I did improve with each workout so that was helpful. Hopefully when I get back on the road this week I’ll be closer to 4 miles again.

Day 1

Distance: 3.21 mi
Time: 35:03 mins
Notes: I had to stop to walk at 1.76 miles and it was a S.T.R.U.G.G.L.E. just to get there. While I felt excited to get out and run, my body felt so heavy and sluggish.

Day 2

Distance: 3.13 mi
Time: 33:55 mins
Notes: I was able to push myself to hit 2.41 miles before stopping to walk. This run was a test of mental strength as I was hit with some massive side stitches midway through. After some prayer while on the go, I was able to keep skipping along.

Week 14 totals:

Total distance:
Total time:
Weight: I haven’t weighed myself in two weeks because I’ve had some conflicts. How can one have weigh-in conflicts? Last week I was out of town at a ministry event and this weekend I didn’t have time to check before heading out to play paintball…which I WILL be recapping this week.

I also signed up for two more races for the summer: a 5k trail race at the end of the month [my first trail run ever!] and a 10k in August. Yes, you read that right. a 10k. That’s 6.2 miles. Honestly I’m a little nervous about it because I figured that I would be able to run a 10k by the end of the year so moving it up to August was a bit of a push. I know I can do this, seeing how I broke the 4-mile mark about a month earlier than I had estimated so I’m sure it’ll be the same here. If I can run consistently.

If all else fails, I’ll just blame Pat for convincing me I could do this.

Don’t count on it

For the past month or so I have been working hard on watching what I eat and decided to use the LoseIt app to help count calories. My main issue has always been portion control; my servings were, without a doubt, bigger than the suggested servings. It was silly of me to think that what I assumed was one serving was actually one serving. Half a pizza does not count as one serving.

Sorry self, even your math isn’t THAT fuzzy

Counting calories helped me to begin to gain a better idea of how serving sizes actually work. I did take the extra step of measuring my food to make sure I was calculating my calories correctly. Plus, watching the effects of exercise on the amount I can eat was really gratifying. It was like I earned an extra meal! The most encouraging thing was knowing that I could still fit in the occasional snack of milk and cookies or ice cream or splurge on a burger and fries but still remain within my daily caloric allowance. It was dieting without the dieing part.

I did find it hard to calculate calories when using a recipe that didn’t already list the calories [though I did find some nifty recipe calorie counting apps to help] and it was incredibly hard to figure out the calories in food I didn’t prepare, whether it was from restaurants that weren’t already included in the list on the LoseIt app or available online of from when my mom would cook. Half the time I wouldn’t know what went into a dish or the amounts she used and had to guestimate. Because really? How many calories are in the red bean buns without the red beans? Or kimchee fried rice? Do you see my conundrum?

Another issue I faced was the demotivating affect of watching what you eat without experiencing any weight loss. Before I was diligently watching what I ate, it was a little disheartening to not experience a weight loss [and worse, a gain] but I couldn’t really say I was eating well. Now that I was more aware of how much I putting into my body and working out, maintaining the same weight week after week was not fun and quite frustrating. I did end up dropping a few extra pounds but that was when I had my sore throat and couldn’t really be bothered to eat anything anyway.

Taking all these feelings into account, I’m contemplating stopping actively counting my calories. I will still look at the caloric information for everything I eat and do my best to maintain some semblance of moderation, but I’m not planning on cataloging my calories anymore. Instead I’m just going to try to make more of an effort to eat more smaller meals throughout the day, which I suspect was part of the problem during my calorie journaling. Hopefully I can eat something every few hours without starving myself, which is a good way to keep your metabolism humming along and stop your body from going into starvation mode and hording any nutrition it can get. I just need to get smarter about what I eat.

We’ll see what happens. Hopefully this works and is something that I can stick with and integrate into my current lifestyle.

Running on Asphalt: Weeks 11 and 12.11

I’ve been majorly slacking on writing my running recaps but seriously, I’ve also been kind of slacking on my running, less from a lack of trying and more from uncooperative weather. Stupid rain. So in two weeks, I was only able to run four times, including my first 5k race of the year. Crazy, I know. Even crazier: I totally failed to properly set my sportband so my mileage for the race wasn’t tracked! Urg!

Week 11

Day 1

Distance: 3.68 mi
Time: 40:09 min
Notes: I had to take my walking break at 3.16 miles because I had stupidly eaten breakfast before running. I usually run on an empty stomach [sometimes I'll have a piece of fruit] but since it was really foggy when I woke up, I decided to wait to see if it would lift before going out since it would be safer. Even though I run on sidewalks, I still didn’t want to take that chance since I do have to cross some streets. Anywho, my mom surprised me with crepes and I went all out. I rued that decision later.

Day 2

Distance: 5.01 mi
Time: 53:59 min
Notes: This was my longest official run! And I ran all the miles, unlike the previous high of 4.6 miles because that included my walking breaks. I took my break at 4.05 miles and felt pretty strong. Since I was so close to 5 miles by the time I made it back home, I decided to just push for the extra 0.20 of a mile and got it! So exciting.

Week 10 stats

Total distance: 8.69 mi
Total time: 1:34:08 mins
Average mile: 10’49”
Weight: 145.7 lb

Week 12

Day 1

Distance: 2.21 mi
Time: 23:06 mins
Notes: This week I intended to take a break on mileage in preparation for my 5k race on Saturday. However, we had rain all week [including the morning of the race] so I wasn’t able to run the rest of the week, which was utterly disappointing.

Week 12 stats

Total distance: 2.21 mi
Total time: 23:06 mins
Average mile: 10’27”
Weight: 146.3 lb

Mileage to date: 96.53 mi

My 5k race was a lot of fun. It was raining before we started and the rain slowed to a drizzle while I was out running. The view was ah-may-zing; overlooking the Artesa Vineyard in Napa and I couldn’t help but get lost in it while running. Its one of those views that you want to stop and take a picture of but all you really want to do is just live in the moment and soak it all in with your eyes and not through some viewfinder:

My official time was 36:44, which isn’t too bad since the course was a bit hilly and we had to run up a hill to get to the finish line. I was pleased that I wasn’t caught too off-guard since my regular jogging routes include hills of some sort so I was actually quite prepared for the final stretch.

The whole race itself was a lot of fun. Since it was raining, the organizers, the Carneros Volunteer Fire Department, had to scramble around to set up the back up plan but did a great job. The atmosphere for this race was unique: they started the race by sounding the fire truck horns and served us a pancake breakfast following, including a glass of white wine [a pinot grigio and something else; I'm not sure since I requested a wine glass sans wine] and everyone was super friendly and excited to be there in spite of the weather. I’m definitely going to keep this run on my calendar for next year. I had such a great experience that I’ll definitely show up for a repeat appearance.