Runs with Pen

I completed my first half-marathon this past weekend. It was odd for me, an odd goal, born purely out of my desire to button my pants and maybe wear a bathing suit this summer. But, I suppose that people have accomplished more for lesser reasons than those. While I was training for it, I had a difficult time balancing my writing life with my running life. The running seemed so all-consuming, so opposing the creative life, that my brain couldn't put a sentence together in a logical order. But during the half-marathon, something occurred to me—running and writing are really not that different. You need the same sort of things to accomplish both of them, like:

Inspiration. My inspiration for running and writing come from vastly different sources, but are essential, nonetheless. For running, I'm inspired by people (the very few) who don't do it as well as I do and for writing I'm inspired by the people who do it way better than I could ever dream of doing it. Usain Bolt (or Husband) are not inspiring at all to me when it comes to running. In fact, they frighten me a little and make me not even want to try. But the girl who just started out, who is struggling, but still lacing up her shoes everyday and putting one foot in front of another until she gets her miles in—she keeps me moving. With writing, I look to the writers that I admire and try to dissect what they do. Where do they use humor? How do they weave backstory in so seamlessly? When is it okay to indulge your desire to describe every detail and when do you need to add action? The writers who can do all this, and do it well, are the ones who inspire me.

Comparison will steal your joy. I have to recite this mantra to myself often when writing and running. If I compare myself with Husband who literally runs twice as fast as I do then I'm going to get discouraged and give up, but if I remember that the only person I have to worry about letting down is myself, then it's easier to push through. In writing, it's so tempting to let jealousy take over, but I'm on my journey and it's not going to look like anyone else's journey and that's okay.

Sometimes you suck. Sucking is okay as long as you don't let it eat your brain. You have to use it as a humbling experience instead of an excuse to quit. Let yourself screw up big, but don't quit. We all suck sometimes. Deal with it. At least you tried. Get up the next day and try again.

You need a place. Find your place where you feel comfortable. Husband likes to run down busy roads, I guess so that everyone can see how awesome he is. I like to run down blind alleys and cul-de-sacs, hoping that no one is peeking out of their windows to see my pitiful form lurching down the road. I bought a desk this year that I put in the living room and sat my laptop upon, excited to "write at a desk" like a "real writer." I'm sitting in my bed right now writing this blog post. Daughter uses the desk way more than I. Find your own place that works for you.

You need people. Running and writing are both solitary pursuits. You can do them on your own, but you won't achieve the same things you can achieve when you share them with other people. I have never gone on a run with another person and probably won't ever do it, but I do talk about it with other runners and share my milestones so that I can feel some sense of camaraderie and a feeling that I'm not in it alone. I wrote in isolation for many years and only started to see a significant improvement in my writing when I joined a critique group and opened myself up to the judgments of others. People are essential.

So, go write a book or run a marathon. They're kind of the same.

Ode to Running

One day, (Please be soon for the love of all that is holy!) I will love running again. But until that day:

I will not eat fried foods because I know that they make me nauseous when I exercise and the last thing that me and my lovely neighbors want is my vomit all over the sidewalks.

I will limit alcohol to no more than one glass of wine even on days when First Son refuses to do homework and Second Son spills an entire gallon of lemonade all over the kitchen floor and Daughter will not let me within ten feet of her with a hairbrush for the third day in a row and Husband is out of town and traffic literally did not move for fifteen minutes and. . . Where’s the corkscrew???

I will limit coffee to . . . oh, never mind, we all know I’m not going to do that.

I will keep all of my winter running gear clean so that I don’t have an excuse to not run on thirty degree days.

I will put on those clothes even when I don’t feel like it.

I will lace up my shoes even when I don’t feel like it.

I will stretch my shins, and drink my last sip of water, and start my ipod even when I’m scared.

I will open the door and step out onto the road because I know that once I start I won’t stop until I’m done.

I will take one step and then another and then another and then another and on and on until I have put in the miles that I promised myself I would.

I will do this because with each step I take my muscles get stronger and the lazy person inside of me gives up a little more and I paid ninety-five bucks for that half-marathon in March and I am not paying all that money and not finishing! Do you hear me weak body?!

I will make myself do this every day until the day (Tomorrow would be GREAT!) when I want to do it and will feel blessed to do it and will do without fear and loathing.

That’s why it’s a challenge and that’s what makes it worth it . . . also . . . being able to button my pants . . . that makes it worth it too.

French Revolution

I've always liked the French, if you really want to know. This doesn't make me very popular with my dad, but it has helped me in other areas of my life. I took so many French courses in college that I almost had enough for a minor and I used that to once order a Caesar salad on the French side of St. Martin and even tell the waitress that it was good. Truly, I did.

The love of French paintings, sculpture, and architecture also pushed me to receive my bachelors of arts in Art History which has really taken me far in life. I can go into any art gallery in the world and I know exactly how to stand in front of a painting with my left hip jutted out and my right index finger resting just slightly on my bottom lip and a small furrow in my brow and then I say things like, "I love how the artist used a shifting perspective in this painting," . . . and "Will you look at the perfectionism in this brushstroke!" . . . and "This artist doesn't even care about brushstroke, it appears he painted this work with a palette knife. The effect is breathtaking!" . . . and don't forget, "Isn't it marvelous how the artist completely removes himself from the painting. He disregards the infantile notions in his head and makes the work about purity of art and nothing more." Yeah, I can out-pompous the best of them when I put my mind to it.

But the greatest thing that the love of French has done for me is encouraging me to read French Women Don't Get Fat by Mireille Guiliano. Any diet book that claims one can lose weight while still eating chocolate and bread is the diet book for me! And it works! This book helped me to lose forty pounds three years ago and keep [most of] it off.

I don't know that one needs to be a Francophile for this book to work, but it definitely helps. She mainly just gives some good common sense advice that we have lost in our calorie-counting, food-fearing culture and encourages us to look at food in a whole new light. As she says, "American women worry about what is bad to eat and French women think about what is good to eat."

In one chapter, Guiliano discusses the ritual of eating and she says that for each course, you should use a different plate, so that every course feels special. She goes on to say that you may complain about having to do more dishes, but how does that compare to getting fat?

I gotta tell you, those seven words "how does that compare to getting fat?" are really what drove me to lose forty pounds. I asked myself this countless times throughout the day: "I don't feel like running. How does not going for a thirty minute run compare with getting fat?" "I want a second helping because the lasagna was so good. How does that second helping compare with getting fat?" "I had something salty to eat, so now I need something sweet to balance it. How does that compare with getting fat?"

We tell ourselves all sorts of things when we're trying to lose weight: I don't like carrots, I don't have time to exercise, water doesn't taste good (That one kills me! Water is water! It's not hard to drink! It tastes like nothing! Just drink it!). Ask yourself, "How does that compare with getting fat?" And remember that picky people are usually heavier than non-picky people.

She also recommends that you write everything down for the first few weeks, treat each meal as a special occasion, and eat what's in season. She also gives some good recipes in the book. The only thing about the book that I don't like is how she doesn't stress exercise enough. For me, exercise and eating right go hand and hand. Eating right makes me want to exercise and exercising makes me want to eat right. But as with any life-changing thing you undertake you must "know thyself" and pick and choose what works for You! And . . . drink water.

Just remember, like most things in life, it's a head game. Don't expect to be something that you can't be. Like me, I have . . . well, let's just say that I birthed my 10.1 pound daughter with not much effort and only four or five pushes . . . we can safely call my hips "child-bearing." But I'm okay with that. In fact, I kind of like it. I don't want to look like a teenager, I want to look like a woman. Embrace the things that you can't change about yourself.

Embrace those things and buy this book if you need some good advice.

Group Therapy

Don't know why I feel like it's necessary for me to blog about diet and exercise so much this month. It kind of feels right for this time of year, ya know. So, just go with it.

Today I am going to share my thoughts on group exercise because . . . we all know that I'm an expert on such matters, right?

Trust me, I have a blog.

So . . . Group. Exercise. I am a fan, I have to say.

This is something of a surprise to myself. Before this year I was a huge proponent of the whole a-girl-her-ipod-a-pair-of-running-shoes-and-the-road mentality to physical fitness and I have to say that one does learn a lot about oneself when it is just oneself against oneself with no one else watching and one runs seven miles even though one feels like stopping after two. It's powerful stuff and I still believe in it.

Plus, I kind of am that girl—that weird lurky, loner girl who likes to do things on her own. That's kind of me. And it's not because I'm a misanthrope or anything, it's just that . . . I hate people. Not you! . . . just, those other annoying people.

But there's something equally powerful about going beyond what you think you can do in a group setting. No man is an island, though many men would rather be on an island instead of at the gym. We were created to exist together. There's a reason why we care what other people think about us. We want to stay in the group. We don't want to group to shun us. We need the group. This is no different with exercise.

When I do a strength and tone class, I lift way more and do way more reps than I would on my own, mainly because I feel like if the woman who has just joined the gym can do it, then I have no excuse to not do it. I, literally, feed off other people's energy and motivation. I'm like a parasite. I just show up at the gym to suck up everyone else's good vibes and then use them to my own advantages.

Also, group exercise gives you the opportunity to try things that you maybe wouldn't try on your own. I took a pilates class last week and I was hooked at once. It was phenomenal! Afterwards, I ran around like one of those irritating people who actually LIKE exercise do and ranted about how wonderful I felt. I even danced and sang "Gonna Sweat 'til Ya Bleed" all over the house with Husband following close behind me and nervously checking to make sure that the blinds were all shut really tight.

I would never, ever have rented a pilates video and done it in my living room. Never.

Not everything works out great like the pilates though. Husband and I only thought we were in half-way decent shape until we took a group cycling class. Ha! It was a humbling experience to say the least and neither of us have been back. And my butt still hurts.

Oh, and then there was the Zumba! (I think you have to put an exclamation point after Zumba!) It's not that I can't do it. I can do it, okay. I can do it. I just can't do it sober. And I don't think the YMCA or the highway patrol would appreciate me driving to the gym after consuming the required amount of alcoholic beverages to make me get up and shake my grove thing like that.

But, all in all . . . group exercise . . . it's a good thing.

The Workings of a Madman

What had happened was . . . someone snuck in my room over the Christmas holidays and took all of my clothes to a seamstress and had her make them smaller . . . and then they messed with my scale to make it say that I weigh TEN POUNDS!!!!! more than I did before Thanksgiving . . . and then they messed with my mirrors to make it appear that there are new fat deposits on my body . . . really . . . there's no other explanation for it . . . I can't think of a single other thing that would explain this.

In response to what this horrible person has done to me, I have decided that I really have no other choice but to . . . gulp . . . diet . . . gulp . . . and exercise more 'cause the unimpressive household budget doesn't allow for a new wardrobe. So, I'm hitting the road again with my running or as Husband calls what I do, glorified walking. Thought I would share my playlist with everyone in cases anyone elses needs constant inspiration likes I dos. These are just a few of my favorites:

1. How Do You Like Me Now—The Heavy. This has an awesome beat for running and I sing it from my new self to my old self. I like to talk trash to my old self when I'm running. So I ask my old self, "How do you like me now, old me? You are so jealous of new me aren't you?"
   

   
   

2. Move Along—All American Rejects. This is primo running inspiration, "When all you want to keep is strong, move along, move along like you know you should." I use it in conjunction with one of my mantras when I'm on my final half mile and I feel like I'm going to die, "Just keep running, running, running, just keep running, running."
   

   
   

3. Bet on It—High School Musical. Okay, don't laugh, I have three kids and have therefore seen High School Musical many, many times, but don't count this song out just because it's from a kiddie movie. "I'm not gonna stop, not gonna stop 'til I get my shot. That's who I am, that is my plan, will I end up on top, you can bet on it, bet on it, bet on it." Good stuff.
   

   
   

4. Unstoppable (Olympics Mix)—Rascal Flats. This is for all you country music fans out there. Instead of the usual line, "love is unstoppable," it's "you are unstoppable." I'm not, but I can make myself believe some crazy things.
   

   
   

5. Ali in the Jungle—The Hours. If you haven't heard this song, do me a favor and run on over to itunes and download it right this minute. Really. I'll wait . . . . This song is amazing for the way it reminds me that I don't know a single thing about adversity and that all of my excuses for not going that extra mile are just excuses and that people have overcome things way bigger than not feeling like running today. "It's not how you start, it's how you finish. And it's not where you're from, it's where you're at. . . . It's not where you're at, it's where you're going. And it's not what you've done, it's what you're doing, what are you doin' now." Love this song.
   

   
   

6. You're Going Down—Sick Puppies. Okay, this one has a worty dird in it, but it's still good for trash talking to myself. " . . . I feel the heat comin' off of the black top and it makes me want it more . . . I wouldn't put my money on the other guy . . . one of us is goin', one of us is goin' down." It's old me who can't fit into her pants who's goin' down btw.
   

   
   

7. The Kill—30 Seconds to Mars. I feel two ways about this song. It doesn't have a great beat for running, but it's another good leaving-my-old-self-behind song. "Come break me down, bury me, bury me, I am finished with you." I have a big problem with overcoming myself in trying to achieve my goals.
   

   
   

8. I Gotta Feeling—Black Eyed Peas. I know it's kind of cheesy, but you know, I like thinking this—tonight's gonna be good, 'cause I had a good workout and I feel really good about myself.
   

Hope this helps some folks. If anyone has any good songs to suggest, I'm always on the lookout for things to add to my playlist.

Yeah I’ve Got Your Squat Right Here

Fit people must just be naturally happier than the rest of us. I don't get how these aerobics instructor women can be so cheery first thing in the morning. Maybe it's because by the time I get to the gym I've already done my get-your-butt-up-and-get-moving-because-if-I-have-to-take-you-to-school-because-you-missed-the-bus-I-am-not-going-to-be-happy-do-you-hear-me-not-happy exercise routine for an hour before I even get to the gym in the morning. Whatever the reason, they annoy me.

Here's a typical Wednesday for me:

8:15 a.m. at home

Me (to daughter): Come on girl, let's go, hurry, hurry, hurry, I've got my cardio core class in a few minutes and I don't want to be late. I love cardio core. Love, love, love it!!! I can't wait!

8:30 a.m. aerobics room at YMCA

Little Miss Ball of Energy: Whooooo Hoooooo! Good morning everyone!!!! Let's start running in place! Whoo Hoo! Cardio core, let's go! Let's get those heart rates up!

Me (internal): Crap, I forgot! I hate Cardio Core! Why did I come to this class?

L.M.B.O.E: Whoo Hoo! I didn't even have coffee this morning!

Me: What? No coffee? Blaspheme! No one should speak of such things in my presence.

L.M.B.O.E: Whoo Hoo! Who's heart rate is up?! Cardio core! Whoo Hoo!

Me: Do you think anyone will notice if I leave?

L.M.B.O.E: Whoo Hoo! Everyone stand on your Bosu and jump up and down a bunch! Keep jumping! Keep jumping! Let's do 100 squats! Yeah, keep going!

Me: Bite me.

L. M. B. O. E: More squats, more running, don't you feel so great?!?!?!?!?!

Me: Oh and don't think that you have that perfect body because you live at the gym either. You just got good genes. You're just lucky!!!! DO YOU HEAR ME? JUST LUCKY!

L. M. B. O. E: Okay, time to stretch, everyone relax.

Me: I LOVE cardio core!!!!!! I can't wait until next week!!!!!!

There are times when I find it difficult to be me.

Running on Empty

Let's talk about this exercise thing I've been doing lately. I gotta tell you, I'm not really lovin' it like I should. In fact, the only reason that I still go to the YMCA four times a week and stay for at least an hour, honestly, is that I don't want the child care staff to think badly of me. I suppose that this is one of those times in life that it's good when you care what other people think about you.

I mean, really, if I got off the treadmill when I wanted to, I know they would look at me sideways and say, "You're done already?" Those times when I stay longer than an hour and feel all good and empowered and stuff, I check the sign-out sheet and there is always someone who signed their kid in before me who is still somewhere in the gym sweating their butt off (or yakking to someone in the locker room is what I tell myself). Seriously, though, what are these people doing?

When I run outside and keep a good schedule of running, I can do it (outside) for longer than an hour. But . . . running on a treadmill, I'm totally bored after, like, five minutes. I'll read the CNN closed captioning thing for a while and then they'll go to a commercial and I'll look at the girl next to me out of the corner of my eye and she'll be, like, walking really slow and I'll think—Wow! She's lucky! She gets to walk, while I have to run. How come I can't just walk? Why is she so special? You know, I think that walking is supposed to be better for you than running. Maybe I should walk too. Yeah, I think my heart rate is too high anyway. I bet if I checked it on that automatic heart-check thing, it would be like "Danger, Danger." So, I should walk.

Then I'll look down and see that I've only ran a half mile and I'll think—Holy cow! This would only have been a warm up if I were running around the neighborhood. There's no way I would walk if I were at home, I'll keep running. Hmm, but there's a girl on the other side of me and guess what, SHE'S WALKING TOO!!!! I think that walking is the new thing, I should try it. Yeah, I'll walk. Wait . . . that other girl was just warming up and now she's running too and oh no! she's running faster than me!!!! I can't compete with her, I'm about to die and I've just gone three quarters of a mile and I think my heart is going to explode!

I think my biggest thing is that I don't like for other people to watch me exercise. I'm not the most graceful of girls and my run is really more of a glorified walk and . . . I just feel silly. But I like the way it makes me feel after and I like the break from the little one during the day and I like to be able to button my jeans from time to time. So I do it. And I tell myself, "You don't have to like it, you just have to do it." And then get up the next day and do it and the next day and the next because, it's worth it. It's just sometimes hard to remember that when your heart is about to erupt and you can't control your breathing and your legs feel like rubber. But it always is. It's always worth it.

So get up and go, Hollie.

Yes, right now.

For real, turn off the computer and get your butt to the gym.

I mean it.