Keeping Pace

Keeping Pace

The inequality of salads

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I spent a lot of time on Friday creating a diet plan for my upcoming week. My weight loss has halted, although it goes up and down a pound or two from morning to morning – it is essentially the same. With my training moving into the serious stage, I am concerned about getting enough calories in the upcoming weeks. I researched the amount of calories burned for 4, 7, and 14 mile runs as well as for 60 minutes of cycling. I input the information into the spreadsheet, added the baseline JC foods, and then began supplementing until I reached a reasonable caloric deficit. Then I brought my spreadsheet to my JC appointment. This week’s order was pretty small since I have somehow gathered a stock of JC foods in my freezer.

I only ordered:
7 Strawberry Bars
2 boxes of (vitamin fortified) Peanut Butter Bars
7 Toffee Bites
1 Double Chocolate Cake
1 Lemon Cake
7 Balsamic Dressing Packets

Patti, my usual JC girl, was off this week. I was looking forward to seeing someone else. Patti pretty much lets me dictate what I want; I am sure that she realizes that she doesn’t have the nutritional information level that I need. I have become more and more resistant to seeing her because she says, “AW” entirely too much. I feel like she is belittling me as she says it when I explain that the weight measurement at 1:45 pm is not accurate. If I’ve just run for 2-3 hours, then it is likely to be too light due to sweat loss. It takes a while for me to drink up the lost fluids. But as my appointments have been later in the day, the weight is then too heavy due to my drinking. She can write down any number that she wants, I just want her to quit saying, “aw.” But, I could never *tell* her to stop, so who am I to complain. Instead, I am just changing centers – which is what I discussed with Patti’s substitute consultant.

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Suck It In

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I have these really cute and comfy pants that my boys gave me for my 40th birthday. The waistline is low-raise and, since they are made for skateboarding, they are made with material that stretches. I love them, but I have to keep pulling down most of my shirts to keep my back from getting cold. Over the weekend I found a shirt to match them that is made longer so that it pulls over the top of the hips. Being so short, I could probably pull it down over my whole butt. Anyhow, this shirt is only as flattering as my stomach is flat so I’ll be sucking it in all day long. I hope that will burn some extra calories.

At lunch, I had a good work out in the fitness center where I did my 3 mile run followed by the required strength work. I focused on arms and core, with just a touch to my legs. Consequently, my salad felt heavy in my arms as I climbed the 3 flights of stairs to my office.

In the fitness center, I was happy for the mirrors. Not only does it remind me to suck it in, but also I can see the muscles working. I love that. It’s so rewording to actually see the cuts developing. If only my stomach responded as well as my deltoids have to the added attention. I’ll be patient for now and, in the meantime, I will continue to suck it in.

Casual Friday

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I wiggled out of the middle of our queen-size bed at about 5:40 am. YaYa had crawled into bed with us in the wee hours of the morning. This usually translates into a less than optimal sleep. We were all a little tired when the time to wake up rolled around.

I made my way in the dark, down the stairs and into the kitchen for some coffee. I checked in the dryer for BoBo’s football pants to see if they had dried completely. They were gone; BoBo must have retrieved them last night.

I returned upstairs with 2 cups of coffee. I left 1 by Tom’s side of the bed, and went to the scale prior to taking a sip. 122.5 lbs – 20% BF. *sigh* My weight yo-yoed up a 1/2 pound. I took a sip from the cup. Whatever.

It’s Friday. Friday means a forced rest day. It also means “casual” dress at work. In California, casual Friday means jeans.

I searched high and low for my jeans. I looked in the clean clothes on the couch, and in the dirty clothes by my dresser. I even looked in my dresser drawers. No jeans.

So, I headed to the garage where I found a pair of jeans that I had placed in a bag of clothes to be donated to charity. I pulled them on. They’re snug. But there minimal muffin-top effect. My loose fitting jeans are beginning to be too loose. I might just have to keep these jeans after all. If I ever get those last 5 pounds off, they will fit quite nicely.

Sweatin’ Up a Storm

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I held my head down as I pedaled away on the road to nowhere. Actually, it is hard to go anywhere when your bicycle is connected to the stationary trainer. With my iTunes playing, I pedaled to the music. A nice quick tempo took me on a hard ride. Sweat beaded up on my shoulders and all down my arms. It rolled from my forehead, downward along my face and into my eyes. It dripped from my nose and mouth; I closed my eyes, held tight to the beat of the music, and tasted the salt as it crept into my closed mouth.

In 35 minutes, I’d soaked my shirt, sportbra and cycling shorts with sweat. I took it as a sign that I’d done well, though I probably didn’t undo my extra caloric intake of the day. The darn chips and salsa were my downfall. They are always my downfall. But they sure are good.

The Not-So Long Run

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We all survived the Birthday Bash. For a small celebration, it sure took it out of me. The gang of boys was late in getting settled in the tent. I stayed up a bit longer to be sure that all of the little boys were asleep and happily dreaming. The dog sat guard outside the tent all night long. I had high hopes that these boys would sleep in a bit, but no such luck.

At 7 am, I heard the sliding glass door open and all four of them came into the house. It’s funny how those little bodies can make so much noise when the walk. It sounded much like a stampede might sound. I made my way downstairs to be parental, but was more like a sleepy child until the 2nd cup of coffee kicked in.

I was tired and my eyes hurt. By 10 am, I was ready for it all to be over and began to worry that the parents would not be coming for their offspring any time soon. These kids sure had energy. They were back at it – tackling each other in the tent, playing tag, and doors were slamming shut all over. I gathered up each child’s things and piled them together with the “goodie bag.” I wanted to be ready when the time came for each to depart.

My head was swirling, and I was figuring in my head how I would get the required 6 miles done. Thank goodness that this week is a step-back week. 6 miles is not a hard thing to fit in and I planned for YaYa to ride his bike as I ran behind him on the bike trail. But, I didn’t have to do that even.

Things were nice a quite after the last kid left and my husband agreed to stay home with the kids. They were planning to go through the neighborhood selling the coupons that the football team has to sell – $200 worth – due on Monday!

Anyhow, I went to the bike trail anyways and managed to fit in a 5 1/2 mile run before my JC appointment. I kept trying to remind myself that this was supposed to be at “long run” pace even though the run was no long at all. I didn’t pay much attention to the pace reading on garminia, but watched the distance and the time of day closely so as not to miss my appointment.

I tried not to be too upset when the girl in turquoise blew past me in the last mile. I heard her coming; her footsteps were quick. After she passed, I marveled at her defined arm muscles and made a note to be more diligent in getting my strength workouts completed.

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