Days 33-38

I’ve gotten so behind on the blog because 1) I really wasn’t able to get out and walk this week due to forgotten homework, volunteer work and yes, laziness. 2) my internet being out for five days 3) So many thoughts buzzing around my head that it was better that I left my hands off the key board …. I’ll leave you with these words of insanity as a make-up.

Have I ever told you that I hate running “straight-aways?” You know, races or parts of races where you can see the path out in front of you “running straight out to the skyline.” I hate them. It almost feels like an extra 20 lbs was added to your already heavy load because you know how far you have to go and the road (or track) seems to be getting longer and longer.

I prefer running the curves. It just seems easier when there is something obscuring your view or you have to concentrate on staying in your lane. In high school, I ran the mile relay, the 800m dash and my main event was the 400m dash. Anything to avoid running something without a curve on it. The straight-aways were hard, but for some reason the curves were easy to run. I was always able to find my groove there. If I was behind in a race, that would be where my adrenaline would kick in and I’d be able to push myself forward. (Remind me some day and I’ll tell you about the first and only individual race I ever won.)

But now day’s things are different. When I was younger it was easier not to know what the next thing was around the corner. Life was fun and exciting and even though I was nervous about the future, the mystery of what lay ahead was what life was all about. It was okay to take chances because hey, we were only making decisions that would effect the rest of our lives. Life was full of “curves” and that all right.

I’m older now and in real life, I still hate straight-aways, the running ones (I mean). I don’t mind living them. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve come to realize that I like knowing where the next paycheck is going to be coming from and what the next crisis will be before it falls in my lap like a dirty shirt. I like knowing that my children will be safe spiritually because we’re reading the scriptures as a family and including family prayer time in our day. I love knowing that my husband will be coming home to us every night and not having to worry that one day he might not show up because of infidelity or some other problem in our marriage. I love having faith in the concrete aspects of my life and knowing that even though I will have “curves” in my life, the gospel helps those “curves” bend back into shape a little sooner than they would be otherwise. It takes the worry out of what might be hiding in the shadows ahead.

So in the end I’ll keep running and wogging and walking and hobbling through this marathon, but in the end of that “race” we call life, I know that I’ll be glad that I finished it with my family beside me and a smile on my face.

As for the daily marathon, today I did 5.85 miles in about 1 hour 28 minutes. I finally was able to donate blood platelets yesterday (after having to run and get a burger because I was .4pts too low at my first attempt that morning). I was worried about how I would feel today, but I feel great. The scale still doesn’t like me, but I don’t remember saying I ever liked it so I guess we’re just going to have to have that kind of relationship. At my last weigh-in I was 162. Five pounds. Not bad for 8 weeks work (Ugh.) Where's Jillian Michaels when I need her?

Day 30

Day 30. No, you're not missing anything. Day 30 is where we're starting and it's only out insanity of that any days after 30 will follow. While I was attempting to kill myself by walking a crazy seven miles today, it finally occurred to me that I ought to leave something behind for posterity. I finally thought that combining my two favorite things --writing and wogging (walking and jogging)--would be a great place to start. I can write about everything that is driving me crazy while I run and get some writing time in too.

So here's a quick catch up for those of you who might not have been bored by my status ramblings on Facebook. :):

This summer we decided to transfer our two youngest boys to the school that is in our neighborhood. Our oldest son is autistic and all three have been attending his school. Next year, he will be attending middle school at totally different school than the mainstream children. In order for the two younger ones to have some friends by the time they reached middle school, a move was necessary. We also thought it would save gas money and get me a little exercise in the process.

It's 30 days in now and the kids are adjusting to the new school well and have even figured out how to ride their bikes and scooters. The ride time has definitely shortened...for them. For me, things have definitely taken a turn. When this whole transfer idea was tossed around, I thought it would be great. Half mile walking to drop the boys off and a half mile back home. Two miles a day would be a great start to getting me back into shape. But then again I was already in shape, "round is a shape."

The first day of school was all nice and fun. I thought, "Maybe this just seems long because I haven't walked that far in a long time." On the way home, it was equally long only this time the 65% humidity and the 98 degree heat really got to me. The next day I decided to GPS the trip. To my great sadness and regret, especially for the boys, the trip was approx a mile each way. So not only was I tired walking 4 miles each day, but the boys were tired from school and now were having to walk two miles.

But like I said at the beginning. The boys have adjusted. They're riding their bikes and scooters and I sometimes ride my bike in the afternoon to pick them up. It's just the mornings that are getting harder.

In 70 workouts, I've gone approximately 99.09 miles (13 of which were just my wogging workouts on Monday and today). For some reason, I thought that if I kept walking I would get into shape or our puppy would be calmer in the afternoon or that I would lose lots of weight. So far none of that has happened. I mean, yes my clothes (blouses) are fitting better, but that's about as far as it goes. I'm so frustrated. It's not like I'm pigging out or eating horrible amounts of fast food or drinking gallons of soda. In fact, I'm doing the opposite, but I would like to see the scale go a different direction. I am 6 pounds lighter than my all time heaviest, yes I admit --167.8 pounds which I accomplished earlier this summer. For my little frame and short stature I should be around 124-130. But is it happening? No. Is the weight coming off? No. My pants fit me the same as always and that really stinks. My hubby says he can see a difference, but that isn't what I see when I'm sucking it in to button my pants. Ugh!

Tomorrow will be a light day and I'm going to try to add some weights in the groove. Let's just see how things go. Hopefully, today's workout doesn't decided to finally kill me in my sleep.

Today I weighed in at 161.4 after the walk. Breakfast: ate 1/2 cup bowl of Grape Nuts with 1/2 cup of 2% milk for breakfast. Lunch: ate a burrito bowl at Chipotle's with rice, roasted pork, lettuce and tomatoes. Dinner: Who knows.