Inspiration

Working Out and Working It Out

Six months ago I took a leap of faith and started teaching fitness classes. It was nerve wracking but exhilarating at the same time. And now, six months later I love it and look forward to each class. I also wrote an essay about my experience and I’m so happy (and proud) to share it with you.

I’ve been quiet here. Not sure how to handle this space, how to handle my writing and my hopes for this site, but I think I’m back.

Enjoy! https://whatsgood.vitaminshoppe.com/2017/09/21/fitness-instructor-44-years-old/

Inspiration

Patience

I started running again last week. And it didn’t go well. I typically don’t run over the winter. I don’t like treadmills, I don’t like running in the dark, I don’t like running in the ice and snow. That combination makes it pretty tough to run through a Minnesota winter. But I stay in shape with hockey and boot camp and, this year, some cross-country skiing.

So running last week was tough. A year ago at this time I had my arm in a sling and I was limited to a careful walk. I know, boring. When I was finally cleared to run, three months post, I started where I had left off, with a three mile loop. I did that a few times a week and gradually I developed Plantar Facsiatis and IT Band Syndrome. But guess who kept running?

On Thanksgiving morning I ran a rather meager 5k, my online incentive the cinnamon roll at the finish line. Needless to say, I need help.

I downloaded the Couch-2-5k app and I’m giving it a shot. It’s teaching me patience. To listen to my body. And not push it like last summer. The first two runs were okay. It’s amazing how different running is for your body. That constant motion vs the interval training I’m used to. At the beginning of a run it’s easy to listen to the prompts, but toward the end I find I have energy left and I want to run farther than my body is ready for.

I’ll get there. Someday. xoxo

Running

Two Weeks

My annual triathlon is coming up here in, lets see, two weeks? Actually two weeks and three days. But who’s counting? I started training early this year so I was mentally prepared for the big day, AND because Husband and I did a duathlon the first weekend of May. So really, I was ready to go months ago.

And then I ignored a pain. And that pain grew. And it crept up my leg. And into my hip. It stopped there for a couple weeks and kept quietly calling my name, but yes, I ignored it. And then on a bright Friday morning, when Daughter and I were running/scootering around the lake, the pain moved into my glute and oblique and put a stop to any sort of forward motion. Daughter saw a playground. I saw an opportunity to stretch. And we both were done/scootering for the day.

The following day I could barely walk. I certainly could not do stairs with my left leg. And I couldn’t imagine doing a triathlon in 5 weeks. So, I set to texting some smart friends that know lots about the body and I got a recommendation to a PT, but not just any PT. He got me in the next day (on a Sunday), and while the visit was painful and did I say Painful?, I could feel relief within minutes.

I didn’t run for a week, instead I focused on the swim (which feels great) and the bike (which is still boring, unless I’m with a friend). I ran once with the dog (my right arm is now longer than my left) and once with both dog and daughter (let’s just call that one a walk, okay?), until this morning. When I got out there and gave it my all. No leash, no side ache, no pain. But man, it was hard.

I have some catching up to do in the next 17 days.

Screen Shot 2015-07-30 at 2.05.34 PMBut look who I met on my way home?

So. Worth. It.

dream

The Marathon

IMG_4923

I watched part of the Twin Cities Marathon this morning, mostly because the course goes past my house, but also because it’s such an inspiring event to see in person. From the first wheelchair racers that have faced life-changing challenges, to the leaders who sail past gracefully, to the run/walkers that told themselves they could run a marathon and they’re doing it. It’s amazing.

Daughter and I ran outside just in time to see the leaders run by. She brought her drum, and I brought a mug of steaming tea to keep warm. She banged and I cheered, for the men, the moms, the veterans and the rookies. We looked for my coworker, missing him just as he went past. We looked for other friends, but applauded new ones instead. I cheered louder for the 40-44 year old women, and I told them their hair looked great, that they haven’t even broken a sweat.

This year I helped my neighbors hand out bananas, 600 lbs of them (I might have handed out 1 full lb). I watched the runners reach towards my outstretched arm, their hands and fingers moving unpredictably with the fatigue. Some said thank you, some cheered, some just nodded, completely spent.

Running 26.2 miles is amazing. The farthest I’ve run is 10.  And I barely made it. (Yes, I’ve done a sprint triathlon, but that’s just 5k!) I can’t imagine doing 26.2. But for those that can and those that want to some day, go for it. You can do it. And when you run past, We’ll cheer for you loudly and then hand you a banana.

dream

Nearly Three Strikes

800px-Main_Beach,_Lake_Nokomis,_Minneapolis,_Minnesota_-_20050814

(image from wikipedia)

It’s been a day.

I ran over to the club at lunch to swim laps. I had to talk myself into going. Talk myself into leaving the comfort of my desk, the piles of work that needed to get done. But I knew I’d feel better after I spent a half-hour in the pool. I’d work better, be less distracted, actually get MORE done.  So I pulled myself up and out to the parking ramp and drove the 10 blocks to the club. I plugged the meter, waited for green to cross the street, opened the door and was stopped abruptly by a large sign.

“Club closed due to Water Main Break. Please use our other locations.”

I stood and stared at it. I wanted to swim. I didn’t want to drive somewhere else. I already plugged my meter. I wanted to swim. My pool, and I realized, my suit were behind that sign.

Strike One.

I went back to the office, complained a bit, ate my frozen lunch and then had a Dilly Bar.

Fast forward to the end of the day. We ate dinner. We cleaned up. We even played for a few minutes when we realized we should be outside. The plan was we’d all ride to the lake, Husband and Daughter would play on the playground while I swam, and then we’d all bike home. A perfect plan.

I bent down to fill up my tires, which were just a tad low, and then I heard the hiss. And not a little hiss, but a loud hiss. I felt the tire. It was soft. really soft. Much softer than it had been just a moment earlier when I checked it. Somehow when I opened up the air nozzle the whole thing went flat.

Strike Two.

But Husband came to the rescue. He handed over his bike and said he and Daughter would walk to a closer playground. That’s my guy. So, I hopped on his bike, which I’ve never ridden and popped over to the lake. I spent most of my time on the bike learning his gears and forgetting my feet weren’t clipped in. Imagine me falling at a stop light because I can’t get my feet off his naked pedals. I can.

But I made it. I made it to the lake. And along with probably 100 other swimmers (seriously, there’s a race this weekend, so it was crowded) I swam. I wanted to go across the lake (600 yards) but I wasn’t sure I had time (I had about 25 minutes before the lifeguards left) and my first time in Open Water I didn’t want to push it. Besides, I was alone. And I already had two strikes against me.

So I swam for a while. And then I turned back. The swim back to shore was against the wind and pretty tough. I didn’t panic, and heard Dory/Ellen’s voice as I made it back to shore. I took the long way back home on Husband’s bike and was grateful I got my swim in. Grateful I pushed myself to do it. Grateful Husband understood I needed to ride, to swim.

And grateful I didn’t get that third strike.

I’m going to bed.