Marathoning on my mind...

I've been giddy with excitement ever since I got my first two issues of Runners World magazine in the mail on Friday. Since then, I've spent about 3-4 hours at the dining room table pouring over them and taking notes. So far I've been amazed by what I've learned and how they've motivated me.

The first issue focused on hydration. One of the articles was about preventing hyponatremia (low sodium levels due to overhydration) and those who are most are risk:

-Those running in warm climates (check)
-New runers (check)
-Females (check)
-Slow, back of the packers (oooh hell yeah)

Though it's highly unlikely to get it, I suppose (surprise, surprise...) that this still makes me a prime candidate for overguzzling at the water aid stations. And why shouldn't we?! We're pulling up the rear! There's no rush!

In any case, this explains why I was carefully weighing myself before and after my run yesterday. Apparently it's normal (though not ideal) to lose 1-2% of your weight, but that your goal should be to finish your run at the exact same weight (meaning that you adequately replaced all of the fluid you lost). Based on the fact that I jog so slowly and tend to drink about twice as often as most serious runners (every 10 min. versus every 20), I figured I would be as the article suggested- overhydrating if anything. So I was surprised to see after drinking my usual 16 oz. of Gatorade and 16 oz. of water (over a 90+ min. nine-mile run), that I weighed in 2 full pounds lighter after the run.

Interesting. It doesn't mean I'm going to drink more or less for that distance since the amount works for me (it keeps my urine a normal color and doesn't give me any symptoms later in the day of dehydration), but it has given me more confidence about what I'm doing versus my previous uneducated, instinctive approach.

I know this post is boring. Hell, my weekend was boring. The most thrilling moment I had was coming across Roy's box of Peanut Butter Cinnamon Toast Crunch (a word to the wise- AVOID it all costs!!! Save yourselves the two bowls it cost me!!!). But I'm excited, because I learned more reading those two issues than I have in a year of reading Self, Shape and Fitness magazines (which are great, but just aren't geared toward runners). And while I still feel like an imposter (the runs still aren't what I'd like them to be), I'm starting to feel more and more like a runner and believe that they'll come along eventually. The countdown, by the way, is two weeks from today (when I launch the more formal 16-week training program). And I've realized that instead of being scared, I'm actually pretty excited.

Butt sweat & other stuff

I know "Butt Sweat" probably isn't the most enticing title in the world (then again, we do live in a world filled with toe-suckers, golden showers, and other fun fetishes)...but damnit- it's what I've been dealing with for two weeks now. Even though I tested the limits of our dress code by wearing as little as possible today, I still managed to collect a tiny pool of sweat under my arse everytime I sat down. This led to my pants sticking to my behind like a wet diaper. I spent most of the day darting around like a roadrunner so that no one would have to see my sodden behind.

On a brighter note, this morning I ran my new longest training run. I took us on a slightly more ambitious route that had a few more short, moderate hills (they still had me huffing and puffing) and another 1.5 miles of trail running. I noticed that not only did I run out of water on the last mile or two, but I also ran out of gas, so I wasn't too surprised when I later measured the route and found it to be 9 miles! Yippie! I've been running 8 miles twice a week and was just about ready to shorten one of those runs and lengthen the other. My other goal is to add a third short run in there each week once we're into August. Yikes. I can't believe I'm actually starting to do this. A month or two ago I was too scared/lazy to even jog once a week!

The nice part about increasing my running is that I've been able to eat a little more and not really gain any weight. I've been holding steady at around 52 lbs. lost but have been indulging ALOT more lately. I'm kinda surprised I haven't gained more weight, but Hal Higdon (the guru of all things marathon-related) wagged his finger at me and said that if you plan on training for marathon, you'd better not plan on doing it while dieting. If anything, you need to increase your carbohydrates and calories (and let's be honest, you don't need to tell me this twice).

Otherwise, all is well. I can't believe the Floyd Landis doping scandal though. I have to ask...is there ANYONE on that Tour that HAS NOT been disqualified for doping up?!!! For the love of God, you'd think the entire tour sits around at the end of the day sharing needles and shooting each other up full of 'roids.

God almighty it's hot

Sorry no posts this week...you've probably noticed that California (like most other states) is in the middle of a heinous, unbearable heat wave. Everyday for the last week has been about 110-115 degrees, and only drops to around 81-82 overnight.

I wouldn't be bit**ing so much about this heat wave if TWO out of my three offices didn't have broken air conditioners. As a result, on average, I am limp, whiny and covered in sweat 4 out of 5 days week. On top of that, I've been sleeping fitfully since Roy and I try to keep our A/C at a very moderate (i.e- uncomfortable) temperature in the evenings to try and control our skyrocketing electric bill.

Last night we tried to escape the heat by going to a nice Italian dinner and a movie (You, Me & Dupree...that Owen Wilson! He was a fu**ing crack up! Screw the critics!). Even though I'd had a big dinner, I still splurged and got a large popcorn. When the attendant turned around to hand the bag to me, I swear to you- my jaw dropped. The bag was about the size of a medium-sized trash can. My initial reaction was one of horror and disbelief. But my second reaction was of pure joy. I downed that popcorn like I was a starving refugee. But I hope you know by now that I didn't eat the entire bag. I mean, come on, now...don't you think I know better?!? (I left about 8 kernels at the bottom.)

So this morning I weighed 3.5 pounds more. I actually screamed when I saw the number. But I also think its kind of amusing. I mean, when a person gains weight but doesn't know why, it's pretty damn frustrating. But when you inhale a trash can full of movie popcorn smoothered in butter, all you can do is shrug and smirk. I know half of the weight gain is sodium/water retention, but god almighty...that was bad. Oh well, I'm going on a run tonight so hopefully I can shave that number down a wee bit! ;-)

The New Page!

It's up and running! If you have a chance, please check out The Lost Hawaiian's Favorites.

It's a collection/review of some of my favorite things that if used properly, will help you to LOSE 50 POUNDS IN ONE WEEK OR YOUR MONEY BACK!!! ;-)

Quick Hits

• Yesterday I went on an easy hike hosted by the city we live in with Roy and two others. The hike took us through about five miles of desert trails. I know some people find the desert fauna/life calming and beautiful, and I believe we call those people 'desert rats', or alternatively, 'hippies'. That would not be me. I hate the goddamn desert in summer. Not only is it roasting (it got up to 115 the last three days), but it was dusty, dry, brown, barren and filled with lizards. Yech. No more desert hikes for me.

• Roy and I went on our second weekend run this morning. I gave him huge kudos for getting up at 6:30am (after working until midnight) so that I could do the run in 'only' 90-degree heat. As painful as the runs are, they are still the most empowering, feel-good moments of my week. I did another 8 mile run and am planning on working my way up to 9 miles once I get a few more 8-mile runs in. I love the route I do because it allows me to maximize the amount of time I can run on the city's equestrian trails. I have to dart around the occasional pile of horse crap, but the reward of being able to run 4-5 miles on dirt is a great benefit for my granny knees.

• Based on the last two week's twice-weekly runs, I have finally decided on my marathon training schedule. Though Hal Higdon and every marathon resource I own recommend a 4-day a week running schedule (1 long run, 1 medium, 2 short), I think I'm going with a slightly less ambitious 3-day a week schedule (1 long, 1 medium, 1 short). This allows me to both avoid burnout and avoid putting anyone out. I figure I'll do my one long run with Roy on the weekend, my medium run with my brother during the week, and my short run on the treadmill each week. Even though I'm a little worried I won't be as prepared as other first-time runners, I'm excited that I now have a plan that doesn't overwhelm or intimidate me.

• I've also developed a race schedule for the next few months:

1. August 20, 2006 - San Diego Half Marathon

2. December 3, 2007 - Inland Empire Marathon

3. January 28, 2008 - Highland Run Half Marathon

• Beyond that, I have no idea. I'm not even sure if I'll be running that far out, but I hope to. Doing the Highland Run will be symbolic for me since it's the first half-marathon I ever did. It will be motivating to see how much better I do running it instead of walking most of it (like I did the first time).

• I realized this morning that while I cannot really control my hunger/cravings right now, I can control my reaction to it. It's ridiculous to let a few desperate actions dictate how happy I feel throughout the rest of the week. Easier said than done, but it's still something to keep in mind.

• Geneen Roth may be on to something. I went and got the Caramel Apple Oblivion from Outback Steakhouse again last night as my entree and while it was still delicious, I did notice that it wasn't quite as heavenly the second time around. It's still too early to say if Geneen's famous chocolate chip cookies for breakfast, lunch and dinner approach will work for me, but so far, it looks promising.

• And finally...gulp. I am absolutely mortified. I think Courtney Rubin read my entry about her. I got a very polite comment from her regarding an error I made about her eating donuts (she never ate donuts, I just used donuts since I was too lazy to reread the book and see exactly what it was). I've since corrected the error, but now I feel like a giant a**. Because when I reread the entry, it made me look critical of her. What I was trying (and miserably failed) to convey was that I have come to the painful realization that I become the person she once was (which is ironic, since I once could not understand why she ate after exercising so much). You all probably know by now that I have no trouble motivating myself to excercise, but I've had to learn that this does not automatically translate into dramatic weight loss since I have not yet learned to manage my eating issues. In any case, I am a huge fan of the book (The Weight Loss Diaries) and do apologize for the error and haughty tone.

Toodles. Off to the market to grab my basketful of fruits and veggies for the week!

My life as an artist

A few days ago I received two custom-designed pillows I had created by Out of the Box for a coworker's birthday. The pillows are beautiful, thoughtful, and very well crafted...well beyond the scope of my own talents. I am painfully aware that every past attempt I've made toward harnessing my own creative energies have resulted in only two reactions- horror and bitterness.

It's not that I don't try. But I was scarred pretty early on- when I was in the 7th grade my intermediate school decided to expose our little minds to the arts. This meant that even if you were an anal-retentive, compulsively organized, linear little girl with absolutely no interest in the arts- that it was too damn bad. I find it very amusing that we were shoved into so many arts classes when based on our record-setting teen pregnancy rates, the time clearly would have been better spent in sex ed class. (This is with the exception of me, of course, since having my father on campus my ENTIRE high school career didn't exactly result in my getting a lot of action. Although to be fair, it probably didn't help that I sported a rice-bowl hair cut, hung out in the bandroom and played on the high school golf team....but let's just let the blame rest squarely with him for now).

In any case, yours truly was forced to dabble in the arts for a full year. Now you have to understand, I've been hopelessly uncreative and anal as far back as the 4th grade. I distinctly remember the thrill of excitement when I discovered mechanical pencils- YIPPEEE! No more having to sharpen my pencil once every five seconds to make sure the point was still fine! So it took A LOT of effort on my part to get through the following classes:

Band. I sat in that class every single day and somehow managed to avoid having to learn a SINGLE NOTE. Not only did I have to choose the instrument with the least amount of keys (coronet) since I knew my Neanderthal-like brain was not capable of ever reading sheet music, but I also had to have my friend Leeanne write down which keys I was supposed to press at what time each time we had a test so that I could pass with a C.

Art. I know I've previously mentioned getting a D in this class. What I didn't mention is that this D was from a teacher that was a close family friend. Which yeah, pretty much means I should have gotten an F. The only other reason I passed is because two other people always gave me their reject art projects to pass off as my own.

Sewing. This to me was the worst class of all, mostly because sewing requires patience. And manic people don't have any. My main sewing project was a pair of black, acid washed cotton shorts with a draw string waist (and yes, that may have been another reason I wasn't seeing any action back then). I believe my dear mother had to once again compromise her own moral values by having to sew 90% of the thing for me the night before it was due (not to worry though...this midnight oil-burning was an annual tradition for the two of us since she insisted I participate in a 4-H fashion show each year that required us to "sew our own"outfits to model that I never did either).

Cooking. Well you certainly won't hear any complaints from me on this one. Because if I recall, all this class entailed was cooking...and then eating. AWESOME.

Foreign language. I took Spanish. Not because I knew that Spanish would be the second most used language in the US, but because all my friends took it. And how would I pass if I was all by myself in Japanese class? (I thought this was pretty selfish on their part too, but I've sort of forgiven them for this. Sort of.)

So yeah, I was pretty much a waste of Hawaii taxpayer dollars that year. But look at what they DID create! An anal retentive, left brained, tortured, whiny perfectionist!!! Always proud to represent the 8-0-8 state!!!

I am Courtney

When I first started reading The Weight Loss Diaries by Courtney Rubin I wanted to choke the woman. This is because while she was training for a marathon she would sometimes go home and then binge on one desert after the other. Naturally, she wasn't losing any weight. And though I haven't quite mastered the art of 'normal eating' myself, even I was silently screaming "PUT THE FOOD DOWN!!!!" as I read each chapter.

So what I have been up to this week? Hmm. So glad you asked.

On Monday I lifted weights for an hour and then walked 4 miles with Roy.
On Tuesday I walked 8 miles with Roy.
On Wednesday I ran 8 miles with Joseph.

Unfortunately...

On Tuesday I nailed such an enormous amount of cottage cheese I can't even list it here for fear that you would all rally to have me committed to Promises for a cottage cheese addiction. On Wednesday I had two plates of food at PF Chang's and then ate a small mountain of honey-roasted macadamia nuts.

So holy crap. I am Courtney. And that kinda sucks.

The silver lining is that tonight's run was a small breakthrough. It wasn't extremely hot (about 90 degrees), but it was wickedly humid. Joseph and I both battled severe stomach pains at various points (could it have been the, oh...POUND of macadamia nuts rolling around my belly...YOU THINK?!!), but both managed to stubbornly push through the nausea.

So I've been told by two people I know that I whine a bit too much and sound a bit manic. Newsflash people- I know I'm whiny. And I know I'm manic. And I'm not particulary proud of it (a lie), and I want you to know- it ends here! Right now! TODAY. (Another lie).

Life Among The Beautiful People...Iowa, here I come!

Even though I'm finally nearing where I want to be physically, there's nothing like a trip to a beach in Southern California to set you back (as I type this I'm curled into the fetal position, sucking my thumb and rocking back and forth). When Roy asked me to go to the beach with (shudder) "other people" (if you're chubby, you know the panicky, sick feeling), I nervously agreed thinking that perhaps, just this once, I wouldn't be the chubbiest girl in the group.

Yeaaaah. Very 'friggen funny, God. Not only was I STILL THE CHUBBIEST GIRL in the group, but apparently I'm also trapped back in 1982. I was one of the only females on the beach who was not tattooed or pierced, had un-highlighted hair and sporting uneven tan lines...but the worst fashion faux paus of all? I wore...oh god, I can't even say it...a one-piece. I know!!! I know!!! I may as well have strapped a friggen POCKET PROTECTOR onto my bathing suit and waddled around with a calculator! I felt like such a dork (this is when being Asian does NOT help).

So what the hell. Guess I'm not a So Cal girl. Isn't the cost of living in Iowa supposed to be really cheap anyway?

Hell yeah!

I'm out of the funk! I think a huge cause of my hunger is due to that time of the month. Once I get past it, I'm good. It's just that during and before it- it feels hopeless and unending. Hence, the drama, tears, trashing of hotel rooms, bar fights, and arrests. In any case, I've had a nice couple of days this week so I feel a lot better-

• I hit a small milestone this week! This was only the second time in recorded history that I've managed to get my lazy okole out to jog twice in one week. On Tuesday Joseph and I ran 8 miles, and today Roy biked with me while I ran 7 (loved it...he's like my support team!). And the best part was, not only did I run at a pretty good clip (for me, people...for me...), I also felt GOOD while doing it! I actually felt like...a real runner! It was unexplainable, but it was awesome.

• Yesterday we drove out to Orange County with some of Roy's nursing pals for a beach party. We laid out 4 hours in beautiful Huntington Beach near the North Pier and watched people playing beach volleyball, rollerblading, jogging, surfing, and on one section of the beach- hundreds of dogs playing happily with their owners (though scary, still neat to see). I also walked along the beach for four miles and packed us a healthy lunch- fruit salad, Yoplait Light yogurt, and whole wheat pitas w/ eggplant hummus. Later that evening we went out to dinner and I finally gathered the courage to order my favorite dessert (you know the one...vanilla ice cream rolled in candied pecans, covered with caramel, baked cinnamon apples and whipped cream) as my dinner! The waitress even gave me mad props! Not only was it no more caloric than an entree would have been, but I enjoyed it so much I was beaming afterwards. God bless the fine folks at Outback for coming up with such a godly, devine creation! There is a special place in heaven for all of you.

• I took my brother spinning for the first time and he loved it. What this means is, my once peaceful relationship with spinning is about to end- since anything Joseph and I do together ends up taking on some form of a bizzare, disgusting competition.

• We have quite an agenda for the rest of the summer. Roy just told me what we're doing for next month for my birthday- we're going on a hot air balloon ride over wine country! Super, super sweet! It's been a dream of mine. We tried to do this in Egypt over the Valley of the Kings, but there was only one spot left so we had to pass (I also had last-minute visions of shoddy, third-world maintanance standards and us being splattered all over King Tut's tomb, so this was not entirely a bad thing). We hit the skies on Aug. 5th!

• We're going to a Tofu Festival in LA, and since I noticed they're having a Tofu Eating Contest....guess who now has to stage her own?!!! Thaaat's right! I already have three semi-willing participants, and have asked Roy to both officiate and take the official photos. It's no secret that I LOVE TOFU...so I have every intention of creaming those mothers.

• It's official, I'm entering the San Diego Half Marathon on Aug. 20th in the morning, and then later that afternoon, we're going with some of Roys' friends to see a Padres game. The first and last professional baseball game I went to (in Atlanta to see the Braves), the game opened up with three consecutive home runs. I'm expecting similar excitement or demanding my money back.

• I'm working on a new blog. It's basically a list of my favorite things- all fitness/health related. Since I love hearing about great products from others and I know a lot of us are on the same journey together, I though we could use it as a forum to talk about the things we love. It should be up and running in a few days/weeks.

• And last but not least, on the familial homefront- my mother just finished about 20 weeks of chemo (she starts radiation soon), my youngest brother is about to start his first semester at college (I've already got two care packages ready to go!), Roy is about to start his final semester of Nursing School (halelujah!), and of course, I've got that little marathon to look forward too. So everything is looking up right now. I feel like I'm back on top of the world.

PS- Thanks for all the support last week. It sucked (not your support, my week). In case I didn't make it clear though (and I don't think I did) I was never depressed/upset about how I look or how much I weigh. I feel pretty good about myself most of the time, I just tend to get extremely pissed off/defeated about my hunger and the inability to conquer it from time to time. Kinda like us with those crazy-a** North Koreans and Iraqi insurgents. You try and try to impose your brute strength on those little bastards but they just keep coming back! (Yes, I'm being facetious....though they are crazy).

The State of the Josie Address

Believe it or not, this post has taken me about 4-5 days to work on. It's far from being polished but I can't bear to work on it any longer.

I've never really considered myself to be a viable candidate for having 'serious issues.' Sure, I have a few...but I've never been seriously abused, have no major illnesses, am not poor, don't drink or do drugs, and have never been horribly wronged by an enemy, the government, WASPs, midgets, or any other group of people. So I struggle to accept/understand why I have eating issues. Moreover, they only seem to have gotten worse now that I'm cognizant of them (which I understand why, it doesn't make dealing with them any less frustrating).

I've gotten to the point where I am absolutely sick of having these issues. I've tried embracing them, analyzing them, patiently talking myself through them, joking about them., writing about them in a journal, writing about them in the blog, talking to others about them, tagging them on freeway walls (hey, I do live in the 'hood after all)... So what really frustrates me is that every time I think I've moved forward somehow- like say, I go a week without overeating, or have an epiphany that empowers me, I always seem to return back to square one. Because I'm so anal and results-oriented, it's been hard for me accept that no matter how bad I want this and how hard I work toward it, it isn't gonna happen on my timeline (hence, the helplessness, depression and anger).

Though it was pretty easy for me to establish why and how I started overeating, those initial triggers have long since disappeared. We're talking well over ten years ago. I can only assume that since then, those unhealthy, unconcious behaviors transformed into some very addictive habits. While some of those poor behaviors have been easier for me to change (exercising more, eating a healthier diet), others have been nothing short of agonizing (eating less, satiating hunger pangs). To say that I am envious of some of the people around me who have managed to do this without it ripping their f**king hearts out would be an understatement.

I would say on average that I experience 1-2 miserable days per week, and at least 1 miserable week per month. During those periods I am tortured by an unending hunger. I am well aware that it is generally not a true physical hunger, and make every effort to address the hunger in a healthful manner. First I try to establish what is really bothering me and address it. When that fails, I then try to distract myself, ignore it, or eat a small, healthy snack. Eventually, however, the hunger only seems to grow and becomes so pervasive and deep that I can't seem to concentrate on anything else until I satiate it by eating. A lot. This of course leads to disgust, frustration and self doubt. I could (and have) been able to shake off these negative emotions once or twice a month, but it becomes awfully difficult to do when you have them every other day for two straight weeks.

The fact that I haven't lost any weight over the last few months is entirely due to my overeating. I can deal with it though, because I also know that I still have the fire in my belly for exercise and I continue to eat very healthily. And I take alot of comfort in these continued accomplishments. Unfortunately, it's those other 'bad' days mixed in that ultimately set me back and leave me feeling so frustrated and powerless. I've felt this way for 5-6 weeks now and I just can't seem to shake it.

For the record, when I make vague references to 'not doing well' here, I am not referring to me going to a buffet and grabbing 4 plates of food or dusting off a box of Vegetable Things in front of the TV. For one thing, these things rarely if ever happen. And even if they did, I wouldn't beat myself up over them provided they were very isolated incidences. I've learned to shrug those off pretty well and generally don't even blog about them anymore because in the grand scheme of things- not a big deal. Not worth wasting time or emotions on.

No...I'm talking about full-fledged, non-stop hunger pangs that typically last for hours/days that are very emotionally draining and result in me eating an extradordinary amount of (usually healthy) food that day. On those days, I feel like I spend every waking minute of the day fighting the hunger. And not only am I miserable because of the hunger, but on top of that I end up feeling like a miserable, pathetic failure for losing the battle anyway. To me, it's kinda like trying to learn to ride a bicycle every day and still falling off every other minute. Pretty soon you want to take a f**king sledgehammer to the goddamn bicycle and beat the living sh** out of it.

Those days have the ability to wipe out all the achievements I've accomplished because I end up feeling like a fraud and a failure who still hasn't managed to master a basic healthy eating habit yet. What good does running 6 miles one day do if over the next 2-3 days you inhale 3,000 calories each day? I'll tell ya- very, very, little.

So the last few weeks have been rough ones for me. I'm used to the ups and downs of this journey, but the most recent one has been a longer in scope and comes after months of feeling empowered. I honestly thought I had made progress over the last 4-5 months. So it kind of surprised and devastated me to have everything come roaring back.

But I guess if I've learned nothing else, it's that you have good days and bad days, good weeks and bad weeks, good months and bad months. Just gotta keep plodding along and keep the faith I guess.

August 20th...here I come!

It's not 100% confirmed yet, but I think I'm going to do a half-marathon in August. It's in San Diego along the coast, so it should be beautiful. I've been waffling about it for months, but after tonight's run, I think I have the confidence to do it.

I've been going through a really rough spell recently (too lengthy to get into tonight, but definitely on the agenda for later this week). As a result, I didn't jog at all last week, have been eating too much, and been very (for the first time that I can recall in over a year) unmotivated.

Today I decided to stop feeling sorry for myself. Even though I didn't feel like it at all, I forced myself to schedule a lunchtime weightlifting session with a coworker, and an evening run after work with my brother. About two minutes into the run, I suddenly felt invincible/angry/motivated enough to declare that we were going to do our longest training run ever- 8 miles. And we did!

I left the house at 5:30 this morning and didn't get home until 9:30pm this evening (I have a helluva commute some days). I thought I would be more tired from the long day and lunchtime workout, but I took Jonathan's advice from Jack Sprat's Journey and chose to focus on the positive aspects of my run (shady sidewalks, downhill areas, cooler evening breezes) instead of the negative (hills, heat, knee pain). And you know what? It worked. I actually felt pretty good during most of the run even though I hadn't jogged that far since the last half-marathon in April. In fact, I probably could have run another- well...let's not get carried away here. Let's just say I'm happy.

It's a short one!

Yesterday a group of us went to LA to catch a taiko (Japanese drumming) performance at Ford Amphitheater before heading to Little Tokyo. Once there, I inhaled three pieces of fresh mochi, a large teishoku (set meal) of chicken teriyaki, sushi and vegetable tempura), and loaded up on tofu, fresh fruit, Pocky sticks, arare, etc.

I had a good time, but I haven't been in a good place recently. My eating has been atrocious over the last 2-3 weeks (I feel like I've taken ten steps backward and I can't figure out why), and while I've been working out- I have not run in a week. Not good. So I'm huffy. I'm not stepping on that scale until I straighten this all out.

The Sweat Competition!

For once, having an embarassing bodily function (excessive sweating) has actually paid off for me!

Ladies and gentleman- I present to you...the winner of the First (and most likely last) Annual Sweat Contest!!! Put 'yo hands up in the aiiiiiir!!!

Now if only there was also a 'Bad Skin Contest,' 'Short Stumpy Leg Contest' or 'Man-Calves Contest!'

Not only did I accumulate the larger sweat puddle today, but as my coworker kindly pointed out, I also had the largest sweat puddle in the ENTIRE CLASS (bloody amateurs...all of them!)

To be perfectly honest, it really wasn't all that climatic. We didn't smack-talk or try to stare each other down (I tried, but it was unreciprocated). In fact, once the actual 'competition' started, neither of us really cared anymore and just tried to do our personal best.

Nonetheless, about 30 minutes into the ride- I was absolutely giddy with glee to see that I had created the MOTHER of all sweat puddles. I think it was at least THREE times bigger than any previous puddle I've ever made- I'd never seen so many mini-waterfalls coursing down my arms, back, face, chest and legs!

My coworker took a picture of me after class but you can't really tell how absolutely drenched I was. But when I took off my socks, sports bra and shorts later, each one felt as though I'd dropped them in a bucket of water- they were completely soaked through.

So if you're ever in the area and feeling a little cocky, let me know. But you'd better bring your game on, because I am...The Sweating Queen.

Strawberry Fields Forever!

Happy belated Fourth! We went to San Diego yesterday for a day of action packed fun- visited friends, went shopping, ate lunch and about 1,000 peanuts at the Roadhouse Grill (I bet Roy that if I threw up it would come out peanut butter but he wasn't willing to wager), paid twice the normal amount for a basket of strawberries for the fun of being able to pick them ourselves, visited family, and in the evening watched a fireworks show from our backyard while Roy wolfed down two warm slices of homemade chocolate cake while I sadly watched. Welcome to my world!

The picture of me that looks like my face is melting (it's from Roy's camera phone) is of me with a few of the strawberries that I actually put into the basket that day (I'd say a half-dozen went straight into my mouth). Please don't remind me how filthy that was. I was having far too much fun running around and popping the ripest berries into my mouth so that the sweet nectar could run down my chin like it did Ruthie's in the Grapes of Wrath with all the peaches. (At least Ruthie had the excuse of being FIVE YEARS OLD and too young too know any better! I, on the other hand, deserved to eat whatever horse manure I accidentally digested).

Aunty Jo is tired. Sore. And very confused.

I've had three days of solid workouts. Too bad I ate like a professional wrestler on two of those days. On Friday I went spinning and then lifted weights, on Saturday I went on a second run with the new Fuel Belt, and today I went lap swimming.

The run was hard. Though it was about the same length (6.5 miles) as my other run this week, it was a little warmer (about 99 - 103), which made it a lot more difficut. I felt like I was forcing myself to take each step and running through thick mud, nevermind 'getting in the zone' or improving my speed. I have to know- do 'real runners' feel this way too? Or is it just me being melodramatic?

One thing I do know, however, is that once I've finished a run, I look positively frightening. Because in addition to toting around all my gear (FuelBelt, MP3 player and pedometer), my hair also gets soaked in sweat and dirt- which causes it to become stiff/tangled and stick out in every direction. And because I'm also coated in sunscreen, my body gets covered in a gritty layer of dirt that often leads to muddy trails of sweat running down my legs.

I won't deny that the last few runs have been a little trying. I'm only a few weeks into my marathon training (if you can call it that), but I already have aching knees, a few regular blisters, one blood blister and two toenails that are changing color. And though I swear I'm not complaining- don't think the thought of giving up doesn't pass through my head eighty times every time I go out for a run. I start thinking about how little time I have/want to dedicate to the runs, how hot/unpleasant is, how dangerous it is to be running by myself in this town, and most of all- how tempting it would be to just half-walk/half-run the race instead OR postpone it until spring so that I can train in winter instead of summer.

But of course I won't allow myself to do that. Because I know it's just fear talking. The easy way out. The way I see it, if I have to quit because I am physically unable to take another step- than so be it. But I absolutely refuse to talk myself out of it before I've even started. Because if nothing else- just believing that I might be able to do this has already made me stronger. Even though I still run at a laughable pace (and I'm not being modest people, it is very slow) and am miserable out there most of the time, I still feel happy, fortunate and proud to be out there. Does that make any sense?

My only worry is being able to balance my somewhat lackadaisical attitude (Make it fun! Not miserable!) with the actual serious dedication/training required. I feel like I'm more focused on trying to make this an experience a fun one than a challenging one. While I don't want to be miserable training all the time (hence the very laid back approach thus far), will I regret later that I was too lazy? Case in point- I love shopping and researching, and definitely spend more time buying clothes, gear, books, energy gels and shoes than I do actually training. Am I just making a fool out of myself? Am I totally out of balance here and missing the entire point?

Aiii...yi...yi. I guess the only good part about all this fear and confusion is that I have plenty of time to think about it.