Fast Food for the Soul January 30, 2007

Today was the first weights day of the program. It was rather interesting to do a form of weight training I’ve never done before. I’ve been going to the gym and doing weights and stuff for a few years now, and even did the personal trainer thing for a spell. But at no point have I ever done or been instructed to do this kind of lifting. Historically, it’s been 12-15 reps of a weight heavy enough to be really difficult by the end of each set. Here, it was 20-30 reps of a really light weight. I think at no point did my weights go above 20 lbs. and in most cases it was around 10.

It was remarkable how different it felt–still pushed, still working the muscles, but not quite the…power-ow…of lifting before. This kind of lifting is supposed to help strengthen and tone the muscles for an endurance event, not build mass for the sake of building mass. Which is also interesting to me because, frankly, I’ve got enough muscle. It’s all there and pretty durn strong. I just need to learn to make them work better, and take care of cutting down the extra layers of cushioning surrounding them. I need to be sure I never stumble across a cannibal village. I’m pretty sure I’d be deliiiiiiicious. Nice strong muscle meat, and plenty of fat for flavor.

Yes. These are things I think about.

I also think about what a load of crap the BMI (Body Mass Index) is. If you’re even remotely tuned into the fitness/weight loss/gym thing, you’ve probably heard of it. It’s the latest version of the old-school weight charts. Now, instead of telling you you weigh too much, they take your weight, put it in an equation with your height, divide it by how many times you’ve seen Baywatch, and sprinkle on a little bit of self-loathing to determine how fat you are. If you’re over a certain percentage, you’re obese.

Gee, thanks. I’m so glad you switched the formula, decision makers. I was beginning to be comfortable with myself. Whew! Don’t want that to happen!

I was doing my little lifting thing at the gym and thinking about this whole muscle-to-fat ratio thing because of a note that Coach Joe had in an email to us. He was explaining the weight series and the merits of the lower weight/higher reps program. He said, very simply, that muscle is heavy. You don’t want to add more bulk and have to cart it around during your 13.1 miles.

It may have been kind of ridiculous for me to be all, “A-HA!” about it, but I absolutely was. I am a SLOW runner. I am also a HEAVY runner. I am also quite strong, at least for a chick. There’s a good 20-25 lbs on me that’s muscle that, on the typical person who weighs in at the same place, would be fat. My epiphany on that one came from watching an episode of Celebrity Fit Club (VH-1 is a disease, and I readily admit that I need help. It’s just so delicious.) where all the chunky b-listers were weighing in. I started to hyperventilate when Chastity Bono waddled up and weighed in at the exact same weight I had marked for myself that day at the gym. If that’s what I actually looked like, then I needed to start asking my mirror to show me the future and make some poisoned apples because it was making me look goooooood.

I summoned Alexander, the b-f, and told him that I needed him to be completely honest. This wasn’t the “girlfriend” question of “does this make me look fat” and the only answer can be “no baby, nothing could. you’re my goddess.” This was real honesty and a matter of life or death. This could be my intervention moment, my realization that I need to take the gym thing more seriously, the beginning of my breakup with ice cream on weekends. I aksed him to look at Chastity and look at me. We weigh the same, I said. Do I look like that (minus the butch haircut and regrettable fashion choices)? Am I that big?

We analyzed this over the course of the episode. TV adds 10 lbs they say. Maybe once you get to a certain point the lens distorts and it adds more. Could I look like that? After a point, which was when I realized I didn’t want my boyfriend to equate me with Chastisty Bono, we ruled that I was not so heavy. Chastity was mostly fat, whereas I’ve got the aforementioned cannibal’s delight.

When I got home from the gym I was stumbling around the internet and came upon the BMI calculator. Ok, I thought. For kicks I’ll see where I am. I looked down the list of percentages to see where I fell. Down, down, down….oh there it is. “Obese. Your health is in danger.”

Fan-freakin-tastic. But wait, what’s this? In small print, right underneath: “(Unless you have a high percentage of muscle.)”.

Hey, fatty, you are fat and going to die from fatness, all alone in fatland!….except if you’re not……and thank you, VH-1 for reinforcing that crap with CFC. The episode where Mia Tyler gets into a fight with the angular black man? I wanted to reach through the screen and hug her. It’s ok, baby. He’s just mean to you because he can’t eat pie without an extra helping of self-flagellation.

BMI=crap.

Me=relatively healthy and getting healthier.

VH-1=Fast Food for the Soul.

Ow. January 29, 2007

So there are probably a lot of people out there who do this whole training thing a lot who might smile condescendingly as I say this, but OMFG.

I hurt.

I’m hobbling around like a geriatric. Although actually, as I think about it, I just recently saw my 91-year-old grandfather, and I’m pretty sure he was moving around better than I am today.

I can’t just blame the training. Some of it’s my own fault. To try to get in some kind of shape to start this whole running thing, I’ve been taking some step and spinning classes at my gym. That experience is a horror show in and of itself, but I’ve been doing it anyway, to keep from being absolutely smeared by the race training.

But see, here’s the dumbass part–I kept doing those classes even when the training started. In my head, it all made sense. The more I do, the more I’ll improve, the better I’ll be, the more quickly I’ll defy my body type and years of cultural conditioning and become a peak performance athlete that even the Kenyans can’t beat.

It might have been the fatigue talking.

Because I sure as hell know it wasn’t logic.

So I’m going to scale back the extra junk a little. In hopes of being able to walk without a limp at some point in the near future.

Even my Underpants? January 28, 2007

During the shoe clinic on Saturday, we spent a little time discussing other running apparel. Pants, shirts, socks, etc. The “tech” fiber that’s sort of a poly-nylon blend is all the rage, and helps keep you warm by wicking the sweat away.

I know it’s all true. I seen it my ownself.

But everytime I hear someone utter the phrase “wicks moisture away,” I giggle. I think they use that phrase in maxi pad commercials.  And yes. I also giggle when the words “poo” or “butt” come into conversation. I’m the paragon of maturity.

Speaking of that neighborhood, apparently even my “delicates” want to be a non-cotton material. To help keep the sweat from pooling up and just hanging out. I have mixed feelings about this. On one hand, I’m glad for the tip. On the other, I really don’t want to think about it, and I’m a little troubled that now not only do I have to think about it, but I’m now obsessed enough with this thought that I’m going to spend the next however long it takes going through my underwear drawer and examining my dainties for their moisture-wicking ability.

First Day January 27, 2007

Today was TNT’s first training session. We learned about running shoes and then went for a 2-mile run.

The weather was gorgeous and it was great to be out in it, being all physical and moving in the fresh air and feeling the harmony of being all connected to the world…

At least it would have felt like that, if I’d been able to go more than about a quarter-mile without stopping to walk and wheeze. Other runners breezed past me. Children on bikes and skateboards clipped at my heels. At one point I’m pretty sure I saw n elderly lady in a wheelchair give me the finger.

But no worries, I gasped to myself [when I'm out of breath, even my inner voice needs a respirator]. This isn’t about beating them–it’s about my own challenge! I’m here to push my own limits and challenge mySELF!

Which makes it even more embarassing to admit how freakin ecstatic I was that there was one chick in my group who was even slower than me.Karma being what it is, I’m sure she’s going to improve remarkably and smoke me in a matter of days.

But–bottom line–I did it. I didn’t die, I didn’t give up, and I didn’t pass out in a pool of my own blood. All things considered, I think we should call that a success.

Half-Marathon Dreams January 25, 2007

With a few exceptions like dieting and cleaning the bathroom, when I decide to do something, I tend not to half-ass it.

Ok, it may take me a while to decide to commit….but once I do, half-assing? Nope. Not here.

So in my latest attempt to be a complete ass, I am training to run my first half-marathon. On April 15, 2007 I will run The Race for the Roses here in Portland, Oregon, with the Oregon Chapter of The Leukemia and Lymphoma Society.

Completing a race like this is something that I used to believe I would only
ever do if I was being chased by wild dogs…but hey what do you know: it turns out
that my 30s are bearing a striking resemblance to an attack by feral beasts. At least in the morning.
In an effort to stave off stagnation, and to keep NASA from deciding my steadily
expanding ass is the next dwarf planet, by gum I’m gonna run me a half-marathon.

All that said, I realize that getting up and lugging this (gorgeous but not terribly “petite”) body across the 400 or so training miles it’s going to take to make this thing work…well, that might just be enough labor to make me re-think my position on half-assing versus whole-assing.

So to help make it stick, I am also training for a cause. My own personal goals and hoo-ha aside, if I’m going to run this durn race I need it to mean something beyond my own battle with vanity and the aging process.

Which is why I’ve signed on with the Team in Training, and am using this run to raise money for the LLS. In addition to everyone who benefits from the great work the LLS does, I am specifically running for a woman who is fighting for her life. My Honored Teammate lives in Oregon and is in remission from Hodgkins Lymphoma.

Chantell is a woman not much older than I am, with a loving family and a desire
to have her time here make a difference. Like me, she enjoys, reading, knitting,
listening to NPR, watching funny movies, and gorging herself on Thai and Italian food. Unlike me, she was diagnosed with Hodgkins Lymphoma in 1995. She has been in remission since 1997.

Here’s the inspirational part: When it’s dark and cold outside and I don’t feel like training, and my own personal challenges aren’t enough to keep me moving, Chantell’s struggle to beat her disease, and her commitment to inspiring others with her story and her work with the LLS will keep me going.

And failing that, my public announcement that I’m making this commitment and raising funds for this incredibly worthy cause should do the trick.

Now here’s the fundraising part: My goal is to raise $1,500: $1,000 by March 1st and the remainder by March 30th. This money will be used for research, patient aid, education and community service. If someone needs to fly across the country to receive the treatment they need, the LLS helps them make it possible. If someone needs information about the doctors and treatments that will help them, LLS provides it. If researchers are making progress in defeating blood cancer (which they are), LLS helps keep them funded so that they can continue their important work.

If you know me and want to help, or if you stumbled upon this site and are feeling generous, please give. If you want to track my progress and just think about it for now, that’s fine. I welcome your support and encouragement, both for me and for the LLS.

I’ll be tracking my progress here as much as I can, and encourage you to check back periodically and see how I’m doing.

In the meantime, visit my LLS website and make a tax-deductible donation to a cause far greater than all of us. Please think big and give as generously as you can. Whether you can give $10 or $200, your donation will directly help save lives. To give by check, please email me for more information. To give online, please visit:
http://www.active.com/donate/tntor/tntorTLentz

And here we go!