She'sWrite: God Help Me, I'm Training For Another Race

Why do I do this to myself? Why do I ever think these things are a good idea or worse yet, fun? What in the hell have I gotten myself into?

Photo by afagen on Flickr.I kept asking myself these questions while walking to my first training session for the SkyRise Chicago. A race up the Sears, ahem, Willis Tower. All 103 floors. All 2,109 steps.

I’ve always wanted to do a run up a skyscraper and when my trainer organized a team for SkyRise Chicago, I thought it sounded like fun. Of course, it’s all fun and games until you’re staring at the endless flights of stairs.

Earlier this summer, Hubby and I did the Rock n’ Roll Half Marathon and when my training started for that, I also had cold feet. But I’d run road races before. This SkyRise Chicago thing is stairs, stairs, stairs and more stairs.

*sigh* But I signed up for it so there I was getting ready to meet Matt, a hulking trainer who looks like he enjoys opening up a can of whoopass with his teeth. I was nervous to meet my teammates too. Were they going to be a bunch of buff bodies who prattled on about their latest triathlon? Use cool endurance-athlete lingo like: Boston. Lake Placid. Kona.

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She'sWrite: Rockin' at Chicago's Half Marathon

We did it. Last weekend, Hubby and I ran Chicago’s Rock n’ Roll Half Marathon. Our feet carried us 13.1 miles or over 230 football fields, or up and down Willis Tower about 16 times or … You get the idea. It was a long haul.

But we did it.

Our day started off at 4:15 a.m., after I’d hit the snooze button a couple times. We had stayed up too late the night before and loathed dragging our carcasses out of bed.

On the drive downtown, I was a nervous wreck. My poor Hubby. I was doing what we call “schpindling,” where I prattle on about anything and nothing. It’s nervous energy.

I couldn’t believe we were about to run 13.1 miles. I wished I’d trained more. I worried about my shins. I worried I’d have another bad race like the Shamrock Shuffle. Worry. Worry. Worry. Why did I ever think this was a good idea?

Then there we were, in our corral, waiting for our turn to go. Oh God… I started to pray, but I couldn’t even think of what to pray for. A fast, pain-free race? Good weather? Not to die? Then we were off.

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She'sWrite: An Exercise in Time Management, AKA Training for a Half Marathon

OK, I admit it. I was wrong. I thought with proper time management Hubby and I could easily train for the half marathon.

Clearly I was smoking something.

The boys konked out after a recent run.When I told him I was going to do Chicago’s Rock N’ Roll Half Marathon, part of him wanted to join. I warned him that if he did, I’d be more bullish about my training than I was with the Shamrock Shuffle. Since the Shamrock was his first race, I pushed him hard to train, but I didn’t do a great job of training myself.

This time, I said, I’d put myself first. In the beginning it was easy. I trained in the late morning, he trained once he got home from work. We did a few runs together on the weekends, but that didn’t always pan out because of a napping or screaming child and/or parent.

Then the runs got longer. The weather got warmer. Our legs weaker. (I had shin splints, he twisted his ankle.) Running ate up our weekends. We didn’t do the long runs together, so I’d leave to pound the pavement for 7, 8, 9 or 10 miles while he had the kids, then he’d hit the gym to do the same.

By the time we checked “Running” off our To Do list, more than half the day would be gone.

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She'sWrite: The Battle Against the Bulge Continues

Well, I’ve been trying to lose 30 pounds for the past four months. I told myself that after I dropped my first 10, I’d blog about it. If you follow this blog much, you’ll note that I haven’t really written about my weight loss.

Photo by GenBug on Flickr.It’s because I’m not really losing. I’d lose 10 pounds then gain back two. Then three. After a bit, the scale would start to drop again, but never the steady decline that I hoped needed expected to see. I’m down two sizes, which is great, but I still can’t fit comfortably into most of my wardrobe.

I’ve been doing OK on my workouts. I admit, I’m bummed about my shin splints, and when I bike ride or hit the elliptical, I don’t push myself as much as I do when I’m running. It’s a motivation thing, or lack thereof. I’m working on getting my mojo back.

Where I’m really lax is the eating front. I love food. Love it. And I’m a damn good cook. I was eating “clean” for awhile and Hubby and I were devouring Tosca Reno’s recipes. That was the problem. I’d fix a properly proportioned plate. Eat it with a glass of wine or two. Then, since dinner was so tasty, I’d decide to go back for a smidge more. That would be followed by more wine and a smidge more dinner. (I’m cringing as I type this because reading about my weight battle in black and white doesn’t seem as complicated as it feels.)

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She'sWrite: My 30 Days With Jillian Michaels

Today our regular guest columnist She'sWrite updates us on what she's calling her "Blubber Battle."

Not too long ago, Jillian Michaels asked me to hang out with her. She said if I gave her quality time for a month, she’d make a difference. Well, maybe it wasn't like that really, but I did spend about 25 minutes with her each day for 30 days straight and she was right, I noticed a difference.

I just completed Jillian’s 30 Day Shred. It’s an exercise DVD that I’d do every day and it’s the same work out for ten days, and then you move up a level. Though I’m not “shredded,” I’m better than I was before. I lost about 5 pounds and 4 inches.

Unfortunately those aren’t “Biggest Loser” type numbers, but I’m telling myself: slow and steady wins the race. I’m breastfeeding and watching that my calories don’t dip too low so Ethan can still have enough to eat. For some nursing women it seems the pounds simply melt away at lightening speed, while for others of us, not so much, at least not without affecting our supply.

The big thing I gained from the workout was confidence from my commitment to not miss a single day for 30 days, regardless of my kids’ or my hubby’s needs. I prioritized Me. There were some workouts that took place right before bed, others I had to hit pause while I got Ethan back to sleep. And his big brother, Logan, even joined me in a handful of workouts.

There also were days where my whine gave my 3-year-old a good run for his money: “I don’t wanna wooooorrrrkkkk ouuuutttt. I’m tttiiiirrreeeedd.”  But then I’d do it. Very grudgingly.

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