Biggest Loser, Marathon Training, and...Pinkberry!

Post 10K Wadi run this past week.  Before the sunburn set in.
I'm not gonna lie - I'm totally exhausted in this photo!

Cairo's Biggest Loser came to an end this week.  Seventeen weeks long, my minimum goal had been a weight loss of 12 pounds, my mid-goal was 16 pounds, and my it'll-probably-never-happen goal was 20 pounds.

I stepped on the scale this week, and was 15.5 pounds lighter than I was in February.  Soooo close to the mid-goal (!!), but very pleased with my results.  8 inches off my hips, 5 inches smaller in the waist.  I can now open my closet and wear anything my heart desires.  It all fits.  In fact, some of it is too big.  Not a bad excuse for some retail therapy!

And a NEW countdown commences.  I have 20 weeks until my marathon.  20 weeks!  I started a sorta-training three weeks ago, but didn't really focus too heavily since I was still so far out from the marathon.  But now it has to begin in earnest.  I'm honestly a bit frustrated that I most of my training will be on a treadmill.  I am able to do my weekly long run on Friday/Saturday in the Wadi, but dang.  EGYPT IS HOT.  Like it's already hitting 100 degrees Fahrenheit hot.  And dry.  And that sun!  While I looooove the sun, it doesn't love my very pale, very European heritage skin.  But I'll deal, one way or another.

WHAT I HAVE GOING FOR ME:

*I have nothing to prove.  I've never run a marathon before, so just finishing it will be good enough.

*I have one hour at lunch everyday at work that I can hit the gym.  My co-workers are really supportive. The fab hubby works out with me, so I have nowhere to hide when I start thinking "I don't want to workout today."

*The fab hubby also hounds me at home about running, so on the weekends he's the one pushing me out the door.  

*I have two good friends who like to run with me.  In the Wadi.  Crazy supports crazy.

*I have a running group that meets every weekend.  If only they didn't meet at 6:15AM!  But I'll be running with them from time to time when they are doing longer distance days.

WHAT I DON'T HAVE GOING FOR ME:

*It's hot.  I can't say it enough.  I feel crispy already.  I forgot my sunblock yesterday and my back is fried.  I'm getting too old for sunburn.  Not to mention I'm like the worst nurse example of healthy sun use.  Note to self:  sunscreen and a hat.

*The long distance (14 miles +) runs for training are going to be hard to do here.  The fab hubby says he'll follow behind me in the SUV when it comes time for those distances at the Wadi.  To beat the heat, we'll have to go early.  And I don't do early well.

*I'm NOT a natural runner. Not by any stretch of the imagination.  Now, I feel incredibly powerful when I run.  But I certainly don't look it!  And my knees and my hips are a constant reminder that I'm getting a wee bit older (notice I did NOT say OLD).

WHAT SORTA HELPS TO GET ME PAST THE THINGS I DON'T HAVE GOING FOR ME:

*We'll be in the U.S. for 4 weeks, mid-July through mid-August.  I'll hit the bike/hike trail near our home in Ohio and push for some long distance runs for my training.  It's a bit early on the training schedule, but I really think it will help me.

*I'll be at Ft. Carson, CO (Colorado Springs) for 2 of those weeks during our R&R for my annual Army Reserve duty time.  There will be a couple of days I can do some running, and the high altitude (6500 feet) will help with my training.  I just won't be able to do any really long distances while there.  I'll shoot for 8 miles at the most.

*The heat here will taper a little bit in September, allowing me to put a in couple of long distance training runs before my marathon.

*I'm committed to the marathon.  I fact, my airline ticket is non-refundable.  There's no turning back now!

And, oh.  On a really positive note.  Pinkberry came to Cairo.  Pinkberry!  My beloved frozen yogurt from Los Angeles.  What does this have to do with my weight loss and marathon training?  Absolutely nothing.  But it sure does make me happy.  A friend flew in and visited us this past week and we went to the movies and then Pinkberry.  It was totally divine.

Pinkberry!

Happy.

Sad.

Saddest.

I Still Got It

One of the things I love about being in the Army Reserves is that it pretty much forces me to stay fit.  Because every year, I'm required to participate in the Army Physical Fitness Test (APFT).  Oh, and I have to pass the test.  Which always makes my palms sweat.  This year?  It was even worse, because it's been three years (yes, three!) since my last APFT.

*gulp*

Let's see...last year during annual training at Ft. Carson, Colorado, I wasn't permitted to do my APFT test because of the 6500 feet above sea level issue.  Apparently, when you go from sea level to an altitude of 6500 feet, it's harder to breathe.  NO KIDDING.  I personally found this out when I was poo-pooing the "you're not gonna do a PT test because you don't have enough time to acclimate to the altitude" when I ran for the first time there.  On the day I flew in and thought a run sounded like a good idea.  I found my heart thumping out of my chest, and me desperately trying to take in air.  Yes, if you're not acclimated to the altitude, it's not a good idea to run.

The year before that?  I was pregnant with Kellen. I call that a fine excuse for a no-APTF year.  He was, after all,  8 lbs, 8oz at birth, and even though I ran until I was 7 months preggo (when I could no longer lace up my own sneakers), I can't say it was efficient running.  I still, however, give myself street cred for running while knocked-up. 

So my last APFT test was in summer 2009 when I was in Officer's Basic at Ft. Sam Houston in San Antonio, Texas.  We were living in L.A. at the time, and I had been running 4-5 times per week, training for a 1/2 marathon.  Only two kids under my belt (Owen was 6 and Abby was 4), I was feeling good and prepared for the test.  I ran my 2-miler in 18:20, did 20 push-ups, and 50 sit-ups.  All within the requirements of the Army.

And here were are.  2012.  At 0600 Monday morning, latte in hand, I arrived at the track where the test was held.  Four people from the Navy and four of us from the Army, although I was the only Reservist.  I've been preparing for this test for the past few months, but running with active duty soldiers is a bit unnerving.  These people are fit.  As in uber fit, young and old[er] alike.

However, my worries proved unfounded. Turns out, I still got it.  Well, whatever 'it' is!  I finished my 2-miles in 18:40, did 48 sit-ups (which turned out to be my worst area, but dude!  I have popped THREE kids outta this body.  My abs simply ain't what they used to be!), and 30 push-ups.  All far surpassing the minimum requirements for my age group.  Which, while I complain bitterly about my aging knees and hips, at least the Army cuts you a break for being (*ahem*) older.  The Army standards for required time for the run and number of sit-ups/push-ups are significantly less for my old[er] age group than that of an 18-year-old soldier.  Finally, a benefit of age!

And speaking of running, I recently knocked out an 8-mile run with a running group that I've been swearing for MONTHS that I'd run with. Please, don't judge me!  Thee peeps meet up at 6AM every Friday, which is really way too early for me.  But now that I'm training for a marathon, it's time to suck it up and get up EARLY because the Egyptian sun shows no mercy in the summer!

Anyway, the run was awesome.  We ran Saqqara to Dashur, finishing at the pyramids at Dashur.  It was absolutely amazing.  We ran through a few small villages, an agricultural area, and finished in the desert.  I made some new friends, and have promised to run with them frequently.  This group is definitely going to help me prepare for my marathon!

Finally, and this is the last of the week's brag.  I'm now down 15 pounds!  Biggest Loser is coming to an end next week, and I have but 1 single, itty bitty, little pound to go to get to my goal.  Oh, painful!  I'm so close...we'll see what happens on Wednesday's weigh-in day.  Stay tuned...

And now, a new countdown begins.  21 weeks until my marathon in San Francisco!

The runner's group enjoying the agriculture area.

Camel guard.  The beginning of the desert.

Up-hill run with the Red Pyramid in the distance.

View to the end of the race!  So close...

At the Bent Pyramid in Dashur.  End of the race!

Why Not Give It Up?

Running, that is.  I said this to my husband the other day:  "I might just have to give it up."  He looked at me like I was smoking crack.  "You can't give up running," he said to me.  "It's part of who you are."

But my hip.  My knee.  And the muscles between are killing me.  I had taken a hiatus from running a little over a week ago to recover from the pain.  Actual pain - not just muscle achiness from running and working out.  Not the kind of second-day sore that makes you realize that you did an awesome workout.  No.  This was actual pain.  The kind of pain that reminds you that you're not 18 years old any more, and that all of that pounding of pavement will catch up with you, and your knees, eventually.  Eventually, of course, being right now.

I fretted.  I frowned.  I stomped around the house a bit.  And I ate.  It's hard realizing how easy it is to fall back into the old bad habits of wallowing in chocolate and cookies to ease my troubled thoughts.  If I couldn't run, what would I do?

"Well, maybe you're just not the 1/2 Marathon kinda runner any more.  Maybe you need to be better to yourself and cut down the mileage and be a 5K kinda runner.  You love running.  It's part of who you are, and it shouldn't matter how far you run, so long as you run.  You run simply because you love to run."  That's the fab hubby again.  Being way too fabulous.  He's such a know-it-all I thought. And I was grumpy all day with him for being so right about it.

"Willpower is a Muscle," he said to me.  I thought I might scream.  Where was MY willpower?  Where was my "THIS IS NOT THE POINT THAT I QUIT" that I so breezily wrote about just a few weeks ago?

"You haven't even taken the two weeks off that you said you would."  Dude.  My husband is driving me nuts.  If he says one more that that is absolutely-spot-on-right, my head will explode off my shoulders.  "You need to stretch, you need to ease into it, you need to run the treadmill and terrain that causes less pain.  More elliptical, more stretching, elevate it, and take some ibuprofen.  Oh, and stop whining."

Ouch.

He's right.  I avoid looking him in the eyes.  I don't want to be the type that quits when it gets hard.  I do love running, but it's time to reevaluate how I run.  How much I run.  How far I run.  And all the things I need to do to be able to run.  I used to be able to just slip on the shoes and run out the door.  Stretching? Non-existant.  5 Miles, 10 miles.  It didn't matter.  I'd just go run it.  But I can't do that anymore.

"You run. Run until you can't run anymore, but you can't quit.  You're a runner."  There's a reason I've been married to this man for over 13 years. Sometimes, I think he knows me better than I know myself.

It's been just a bit over a year since he last had to give me a kick in the butt to run.  He always knows exactly what to say.

So here I am.  At a crossroads.  Fighting for my running survival.  If you're a runner, you understand.  You love it, you crave it, you need it.  There will be a point in my life where I will no longer be able to run --- next year? Five years from now?  Twenty years from now?  This, I don't know.  But I do know in my heart that right now is not the time.

At Jason's urging, we ran - choosing the kids' school track for it's nice, spongy kindness. I hit two miles before the pain started.  True pain.  Not just burning lungs, not lactic-acidy arms and legs.  But, true, shooting pain.  But I didn't just quit.  I DID however stop running and stretch.  I gave myself the time I needed to take care of the issue.  And you know what?  Six minutes.  That's what it took to walk it off, to do the stretches I needed to do to care for the hip/knee pain.  And then I started back up, slowing my pace, concentrating on my stride.  One more mile to that 5K point.  And then I stretched some more.  The hubby checked up on me and encouraged me, despite the fact that I'd been a raving psychopath to him the preceding two days.

The next day, I hopped on the elliptical and concentrated on the stride.  Working that knee and hip - stretching it out.  Wishing I could run, but knowing I had to care for the injury.  I did some free weights, and focused on some exercises specifically geared toward my injury.

I have so far to go, so much more to do - because this injury isn't over. It may take weeks, even months to fully heal.  And I may have recurring issues where I need to slow down, back up, and care for the hip/knee again.  But I DO know how to manage it and to treat myself right.  And I also know, that if I don't care for it right, it won't improve, whether I run or not.

 Looking back, I realize I was wallowing in the fact that I just wanted it to be better.  And I wanted it to be better right now.  That I was looking for the easy answer.  Give up running.

Thankfully, I have a fab hubby to put my head back on right.  He knew that this wasn't the answer.  And he kept after me until I realized it wasn't the answer, either.

What an idiot I've been.  Now, I don't know if I'll ever do a Half Marathon again.  I truly hope that I will.  But what I do know is that I can be a 5K/10K kinda runner. I can be a 2-mile kind of runner.  Because I am a runner.

This is not the point where I quit.

This is NOT the Point Where I Quit

A friend ran with me at the Wadi this week.  Our initial plan had been for a 10K, but when we parked the car, we noticed it was overcast and windy - a sandstorm was definitely on the horizon.  So we talked about it, and decided we'd just go for 4 miles instead.  I wasn't overly saddened - to be honest, a 10K was sorta freaking me out.  I mean, I had just re-embraced running three-ish weeks ago.  Who was I to demand a 10K of my body?  And what if I couldn't do it?

As we took off, I found my stride.  It was chilly and windy, and the occasional puff of dust would whip through my body.  But otherwise, I was surprised to find that I wasn't struggling to keep up.  My friend has a similar run pace, and we were within eyesight of each other as we came to two miles, our preplanned half-way point.  We'd already been hit a few times with sand, so why not go it further?  How much worse could it get?  We decided to keep running - and go for the 10K (6 miles).  

Onward we ran.  My friend was slightly in front of me, and as we reached the 5K mark, she made the loop to turn back.  As we began the return journey, my heart pounded, my mind raced.  Who was I to do this?  I'd done a 4.5 mile run last week, but I had broken it up with some short bursts of walking throughout.  Today, I hadn't walked a single step yet.  I looked ahead of me, and the air was thicker, hazier, and it was obvious the sandstorm was coming in a bit quicker than we had thought.  I could see my friend off in the distance - her pace had picked up slightly, but we were still within eyesight of each other.  

I could quit.  Walk my butt back to the car.  Admit defeat.  Give up running.  A lot of people would do that, I thought.  Many of us have struggled with this.  It's so hard just to lose one single pound; it's so hard just to run one single mile.  But what is the alternative?

This is not the point where I quit!  I put this thought in my head and kept going.  I am a runner.

More thoughts streamed though my mind - This isn't just who I want to be.  This IS who I am.  A runner.  Someone who cares for her body.  I'm strong.  I can keep going.  This is not the point where I quit.  Forward, running, one foot in front of the other.  Focusing on my music, enjoying the run because I love the run.  I feel the pace, find my stride, feel the breathing.  

Another mile down.  My right knee was creaking.  My shoulders sag, I feel old.  I stumbled on a rock and nearly tweaked that knee.  The sand was blasting against my face and I needed a moment.  Two minutes - I gave myself two minutes of walking.  It's ok.  Gotta strrrrrretch-it-out.  But this is not the point where I quit.  Others would.  I don't.  I could still see my friend running.  Her silhouette moving forward, the sand whipping around.  The air was thick, but she was still moving forward.  I took a deep breath and began running again.  

One mile left to go.  I keep moving forward.  My lungs burn, my right knee seems to hate me, but I keep moving forward.  This is not the point where I quit!  I told myself over and over.  I am a runner.  I can do this.

I look up, and I am nearly to the end.  A wide smile across my face.  I catch up with my friend, who had finished just ahead of me.  My time?  1 hour 5 minutes.  Yes!  Who was I to do a 10K?  A runner, that's who.  My lungs still burned, and I hobbled a bit on that right knee, but I had proven something to the person who matters most in this:  myself.  

I wiped my face on my sleeve and it's covered in dirt.  I've done that 10K in a small sandstorm.  Oh, I'm feeling successful!

Four weeks done in the Biggest Loser competition.  I'm now down 10 pounds.  Of the 12 I've gained since arriving in Cairo.  It feels good.  I'm running, I'm working out, I'm eating healthier.  I still have some very rough days.  And some days where I slip.  But I keep moving forward.  Because this is NOT the point where I quit.

Keep moving forward.  Taking care of myself.  Improving myself.  It's a long journey and I'm committed.  Because as my friend Matt points out in his blog, there really is no other choice.   At least no other real choice with the only acceptable ending.

I'm headed to Bangkok this coming week for work, and I'm really excited.  I've never been there (to be honest - our move here to Egypt is the first time I've ever been outside the U.S.), and I have a medical conference to attend.  I'm pleased with my weight loss and improvement in running.  My goal for the next week is to maintain my weight (Since I'm traveling, I won't have a lot of time to workout, so I'm keeping my goals realistic!).  I'm also going to hit the gym at the hotel at least 3 times while I'm there (unless outdoor running turns out to be an option!).  

But no matter what, this is not the point where I quit.

Sandstorm rolling in!

So Much Can be Accomplished in Just One Week

In the week since I blogged about joining the Biggest Loser competition at work, so much more has been accomplished.

I am now able to run 5K+ distances.
I am fitting back into my regular pants.  That don't involve elastic waistbands.
I am eating healthier.

I still enjoy chocolate.  But in moderate quantities.
I still enjoy coffee.  But probably in too large of quantities. [Note: some things are really hard to change.] Oh, but with much less sugar in each cup!

I am stronger.

But most importantly, I simply feel better.

Since the fab hubby is pretty security-conscience (duh), I decided to take it to heart when he said he's really ok with me running the Wadi by myself.  So I got past the 'it feels so desolate here!'  Twice this week I ventured out solo to the Wadi for a run.

I still feel like I'm going to be attacked by this.

 I'll admit - it's still kinda creepy.  A good part of me feels like I'm a character in Star Wars about to be attacked by Tusken Raiders.  Turns out the desert part of Star Wars was filmed in Tunisia.  Ummmm....hello!  Tunisia is totally two countries to the west of here.  No wonder it looks the same.

In any case, I rocked out a a 4.5 mile run today, and it felt good.  (And if you're wondering, I was not attacked by Tusken Raiders.)

The rest of the week's workouts were spent at the gym or on my own elliptical at home.  I've also thrown in some free weights and the fab hubby taught me some great upper arm exercises I can do with the free weights that were different from the routines I've been doing.

Things I tell myself?  Even if it's only 20 minutes on the elliptical, it's worth it.  Because it's much more than I was doing before.

If I eat too much, I'll be uncomfortable.  And I don't miss the elastic-waist pant.

If I eat too much, I'll also have to work out a lot more, and I'm already short enough on time as it is.  At work, I spend my lunch hour at the gym.  There is only one lunch hour.  Not two!

This coming week?  I'm adding more free weights.  More time on my runs (headed toward the 10K distance!).  And I'm also going to work on getting to sleep earlier.  My friend Jen recently blogged about giving up being a night owl for Lent.  I think I'm going to hop on that train as well for Lent this year.  Since I'm focused on taking better care of myself, this is definitely something I need to do.

It's been a good week!  3 weeks down in the Biggest Loser, 6.5 lbs lighter, 13 weeks to go.  I'm not going to say it's been easy - because it certainly hasn't been.  But I feel like I'm on the path to success.

Half -way through my 4.5 mile run today.
It was awesome!

Twelve Pounds

Twelve pounds.  As in the number of pounds I've gained since arriving in Egypt.

As in the number pounds it took to crumple my self-esteem.  Put on in a mere five months.

I suppose I could blame it on the stress.  A new country, a new culture, a new school for the kids, a new job for me, new...new...new.  Chocolate helps.  So does a sweet yummy latte.  Sometimes I'd wallow in cookies.  I've got lots of other excuses.  No place to run safely.  Don't like the gym.  Working long hours.  No time to work out.  Just had baby #3 a little over a year ago.

But I've dealt with stress in the past.  I know the best ways to handle it.  I know exercising and healthy eating are essential.

But the more I gained, the worse I felt, and the less I worked to fix the issue.

I used to be a runner.
I used to be in shape.
I used to eat healthy.
I used to feel good about myself.

I don't want to be those things.  I don't want the best run I ever did to be over with already.  I used to be a runner.  It tears at the very definition of myself.  Was a runner.

So what am I now? I ignored that voice in my head.

Unable to fit in my jeans, I found myself wearing stretchy yoga pants and slouchy shirts at home.  Baggy clothes to work, trying to hide the pounds that seemed to pile on so easily.

Ignoring my health for what?

I used to be am a runner.
This is from my favorite 10K ever.
Santa Monica, CA - Fall 2009
I'm the chick in the "I *heart* LA shirt.

I am angry.  I miss running and I hate that I can't find my stride here in Egypt.  Can't run safely in the streets.  Can't make it to the Wadi as often as I thought.  And honestly, I feel uncomfortable there by myself.  It feels so desolate. So unsafe.  I admit it.

But it's not a good enough excuse.

I have an elliptical in my living room.  It was gathering dust.  I have free weights in my living room.  They were tucked away in a cabinet.

Choices.  Poor choices to be honest.  Feeling trapped by my choices.  And the weight piled on.

::Deep Breath::


That's the thing about life.  So many choices.  I have choices.  New choices.

The embassy is currently sponsoring a 'Biggest Loser' contest.  I signed up and it began two weeks ago with some friends (and the fab hubby) - and we're dedicated to losing 10% of our body weight.  It feels good.  Having a goal.  Having a support group.

It was HORRIBLE stepping on that scale the first day.  Having to admit all those choices I've made over the last five months.  But I was tired of it owning me.  Tired of the weight following me around and dictating who I was.

I work out.
I eat healthier.
I know what I want to be.

Two weeks later, I'm six pounds lighter.  And I know I have so much more to do, more to lose.  But I was able to button my jeans again this week.  Building that self-esteem back up.

The elliptical and those free weights are no longer covered in dust.  I run at the kid's school track.  I hit the treadmill at work.  I absolutely loathe the treadmill.  But it's what I've got.

It's not the kind of running I love, but it's the running I can do right now.  Because I am a runner.

Next July, we'll be in the U.S. for four weeks.  And of those four weeks, I'll spend two of them in Colorado Springs for my Army Reserves Annual Training.  I love Colorado Springs.  I love running Pikes Peak and Garden of the Gods. [I went back and looked at my blog from when I ran Garden of the Gods last year.  It's really a beautiful place to run.  Here's the blog entry if you'd like to read about it.]

Garden of the Gods is some of the greatest running I've ever done.  If I don't run now, I won't be able to run then.  The altitude is killer and I have to be in good shape to run those trails.  I won't let that happen.

Two weeks down, and fourteen weeks left to go in the Biggest Loser.  10% of my body weight to be shed.  Miles to run.  Good food to eat.  Skinny jeans to wear.  These are the choices I make now.

The 1/2 Marathon I ran in 2010.
Almost 2 Years to the date of starting
the Biggest Loser Contest I'm in now.

That's me in the 1/2 Marathon.
I'll be that again soon.