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Going to run, going to run, going to run.

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

I've decided that the only way I'll stick to my goal-seeking mentality is to put some money on it. Really. Money is a motivator, particularly when I'm the one who's spending it.

I'm signing up for the Cleveland 1/2 Marathon; I figure that I have until May to train, and I can be more than ready. I used to love running (still do!), and I'm hoping that with the concrete goal in the distance, I will be able to run every day.

Even though I tend to despise what I look like (now is a particularly bad body-image time), I'm hoping that I'll release a lot of good mental juju and stop focusing so much on what I DON'T look like and start to like what I DO. I lead such a sedentary lifestyle (helloooooo dissertation) that I need to focus on my accomplishments bit by bit and forget all the negativity wrapped up in how my clothes fit. It's a goal--one that is the hardest to acheive, especially in myself. I should start taking my own advice, since I tell my friends that every little win is huge. Duh, Erika, LISTEN! :)

  Member Comments About This Blog Post:

OBXFIREGUY 9/29/2010 10:54AM

    Well, lace up the shoes and hit the pavement. Just remember to train smart and safely to avoid injury.

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Tasty broccoli and other miracles

Thursday, January 07, 2010

Sometimes it's hard to believe how many changes I've made in my habits, especially when I step on the scale. That's when it really REALLY hits home--this is a process, and a loooooooong process at that. A frustrating process. A process that makes me scream at scales, want to fudge the weekly results (oooooh fudge), and try to find ways to cheat and still have the results I want.

It's the post-holidays letdown/motivating time. You know, that weird intersection of "Wow, did I really just eat my weight in tasty, yummy, sugary molasses cookies" Street and "Okay, I'm completely motivated to get back on track and crave some broccoli" Avenue. I'm so there. After traveling almost 2000 miles in 8 days in a packed car with my husband and 2 kids, I totally fell off the wagon of healthy eating. It seemed temptation was EVERYwhere. . . starting with the cabinets. It got to the point where I felt like complete crap, stomach aches, headaches, the whole shebang.

And then it happened--I WANTED A BOWL OF PLAIN (okay, maybe some garlic powder) BROCCOLI. Seriously. It had to be broccoli. It almost reminded me of the cravings I had for frozen green beans when I was pregnant with my oldest son. Strange stuff. Since we've been home, my husband and I have cooked cooked cooked. Fresh stuff. Tasty stuff. No pounds of butter, no cups of sugar, plenty of habaneros.

And then the REAL miracle happened--my 7-year-old son ate 4 pieces of broccoli, telling me that "he likes the leaves the best." Granted, they had a nice low-fat beef-with-broccoli sauce on them, BUT HE ATE BROCCOLI!!!!!!!!!

This is how I know that miracles happen. Miracles like missing my routine of exercise. My motivation to reintroduce yoga and good juju into my life. And my ability to eat until I'm satisfied, not until I'm stuffed. That last one has only happened once in the last week, but onwards and upwards. It's a start.

It's a process. A very very loooooooong, but possible, process.

  Member Comments About This Blog Post:

ENGLAND7039 1/7/2010 11:21AM

  Awesome! It's great that your body is craving the healthy food it needs. Your entry gives me hope - my husband and daughters are ridiculously picky and it makes cooking healthy family meals a real challenge. If your son can learn to like "green stuff", maybe my family will too! :)

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Thoughts from August

Monday, August 31, 2009

I just re-read my birthday blog. Wow, can you tell that I was down. Things are looking much better today, the last day of August. So much has happened since May. I ran a 4-mile race. . . the whole way. . . .on July 4 (and I wasn't last!). I've established a walking routine with a great walking partner. I've lost 36 pounds since we started this, and I'm not totally disgusted when I look in the mirror.

There are still some days where I desperately wish I could just chuck the whole program and cook some really rich food (thanks a lot, "Julie & Julia" movie). On the upside, though, I am going through my extensive cookbook collection, figuring out where I can trim the fat on some really great recipes.

And I started a blog. No, not just this blog, but a blog on Blogger. "The Ambivalent Epicure." Wow, does that title sound snooty. In any case, though, I'm trying to document my struggle with loving food a bit too much and learning how to make it work for me. I don't know if it's going to work, but you never know 'til you try.


It's been a rough day, and some birthday blues.

Thursday, May 07, 2009

Before I begin, I know what people say about turning 29. You're staring 30 in the face. As my father would say, it's all downhill to 50 (thanks, Dad). Almost 1/3 of the way to 90. Whatever. It's not the turning 29 that bums me out. It's all tied to the food.

Here is where this blog totally links to the point of SparkPeople. I'm plugging away at my health goals, my eating goals, my body-image goals. I'm tracking my food intake every day. I'm tracking my physical activity every day. I'm seeing results. Honestly, I'm FEELING the results.

The problem? I can't open a refrigerator, watch TV (amid any number of food-based commercials), go out to a restaurant, or get online (often to SparkPeople) to peruse recipes without thinking to myself, "This is going to put me over on calories" or "Does this give me enough protein or too much fat today?" This is probably a positive change. It shows that I'm aware of what's going in, physical activity, etc. It also feels like I will never enjoy food again.

I can't just eat any more. I can't just cook or bake any more. I couldn't go out to dinner for my birthday without feeling immensely guilty, KNOWING I would go over on calories and fat intake today. I want to be able to relax about the food I eat, not to excess, but enough to where I don't feel anxiety. It's frustrating. Extremely frustrating. And I'm afraid that my frustration will be counterproductive. Sigh.