So, if you've been following my blog, you are aware that I have a race this Saturday. It's the Cedar Rapids Run the Flood, a new one for me. Races are fun. Typically, everyone is excited to run for the particular cause we are there for, some have personal records they are aiming for, and weaving in and out of the laughter and excitement is an adrenaline rush that eventually makes it's way to each and every participant.
Up until Saturday, I will have only run one mile races and 5Ks...this is a 7 mile race, folks, and I'd be lying if I told you that I'm excited for the race.
7 miles....7 miles.....7 miles....double a 5k....7miles...7 miles...I hope I don't die.
This is the string of thoughts that has been running through my head constantly the past few days...oh, and "What the hell was I thinking?!"
I know what I was thinking. When Tony told me about this race, he promoted it to me as a good training race to prepare me for the half marathon in October. That made perfect sense at the time because you have to build mileage in order to finish the 13.1 miles of the half marathon...but recently I've been shying away from committing myself to the half marathon. I won't go into the details because if you've been following me along this journey, you know the reasons.
You'll see in my Running Log that I haven't run in over a week, and I'll tell you now that I probably won't run again before Saturday's race. I have changed up my workout routine in hopes to bust out of the rut I'm in, but that change doesn't include running...unless I have a desire to log some miles. I've started a Spinning class and a weight lifting class at Aspen, and I'm hoping the change will boost my metabolism, improve my endurance, build muscle, and lose some inches. I'm not sure what it will do to my marathon training plan, but I'm having fun again, and right now, fun is what I need, or otherwise I will stop doing anything.
So, I ask that all of you out there think of me, offer any advice you may have...and if you dont' have any advice, prayers are very much appreciated. Prayers that I won't die Saturday, that I'll finish the race, that I'll find the fire within me that I need right now, and that I'll make a decision on the half-marathon so I can pull myself out of limbo are all accepted :o)
Thanks guys :)
Who am I?
A runner....or Herky the Hawk?
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Why weight?
Okay, quick review of Saturday's race: Ran the 5K, forgot to set my timer, so guesstimate time was 31:30 because we had to stop for traffic twice. Was windy as hell, group consensus was that we had a head wind for 80% of the race. And it was chilly. BUT I finished my first REAL 5K of the season (let's be honest, the Bar Run was not a real 5K because it was interrupted by alcohol and food...AWESOME time, but definitely not a real race). So I finished my first 5K of the season and was rewarded with a giant piece of apple pie a la mode...YUM!
I want to turn the focus to a topic that has been weighing heavily on my mind lately (pun intended)....the female obsession with weight and our negative perceptions of our bodies. My personal struggle started back when I was a teenager. I started comparing myself to the girls in Seventeen magazine and the girls on TV, and then of course the girls in school. Fortunately, I loved being active so burning calories came naturally. I have an athletic build, so I frequently heard comments about my "guns" and my strong legs...which looking back now, is pretty cool...but rather than embracing my athleticism and being proud of it, I was embarrassed. I didn't want to be "strong" because another word for "strong" is "thick" and "thick" meant "fat" in my mind. I wanted to be dainty, I wanted to be thin. You have to remember that Kate Moss was the ideal woman, so the "waif" look was in.
I'm sure you're all thinking, "Okay Danielle...no epiphanies here...tell us something we don't already know" so let me tell you know that there won't be any epiphanies...just some things that hopefully you can reflect on. Besides, this is my blog right? Which pretty much means that most of these blogs are brain dumps...
Anyways....so a marriage and 2 kids later, I still struggle with my body image. So much that I have sent myself into anxiety attacks over the first signs of "muffin top". My anxiety comes from my frustration that only 4 months ago, I was a size 2. I was the smallest/thinnest I have ever been...and my desire to get back there has been overwhemling to the point of unhealthy. I easliy forget that the reason I lost all the weight was due to a high level of anxiety and circumstantial stress, so I had no appetite and only ate so I had enough energy to be able to run over my lunch. I forget the frustration I had every morning because I couldn't find anything that fit, everything would just hang off of me. I remember the comments from Yashmine that I had become the typical WG (White Girl)...meaning I had no booty. And again...I WASN'T happy! As I began to heal, the appetite came back (Tony's cooking helped with this, of course), and I began to enjoy life outside the gym again. I now understand what the phrase "Fat and happy" means now, but the "happy" is starting to be hidden by the shadow of a growing poor body image.
The funny thing is...if another female friend of mine comments on how she looks, I'm the first to stop her and tell her that she looks great and that I wish I had her curves...which is true! Curves are beautiful...they're what make a woman attractive. But why can't I appreciate mine? So I want to throw this out to the ladies reading my blog...or heck, you guys can chime in too about your frustration with women and our obsession with our looks. Ladies, why do we look at each other and think, "I wish I looked like her"? I mean, think about it...odds are there is someone out there that has thought that about you...yet we continue to criticize ourselves. So if you have an opinion, please share. Hopefully we can work together to keep each other in check.
I want to turn the focus to a topic that has been weighing heavily on my mind lately (pun intended)....the female obsession with weight and our negative perceptions of our bodies. My personal struggle started back when I was a teenager. I started comparing myself to the girls in Seventeen magazine and the girls on TV, and then of course the girls in school. Fortunately, I loved being active so burning calories came naturally. I have an athletic build, so I frequently heard comments about my "guns" and my strong legs...which looking back now, is pretty cool...but rather than embracing my athleticism and being proud of it, I was embarrassed. I didn't want to be "strong" because another word for "strong" is "thick" and "thick" meant "fat" in my mind. I wanted to be dainty, I wanted to be thin. You have to remember that Kate Moss was the ideal woman, so the "waif" look was in.
I'm sure you're all thinking, "Okay Danielle...no epiphanies here...tell us something we don't already know" so let me tell you know that there won't be any epiphanies...just some things that hopefully you can reflect on. Besides, this is my blog right? Which pretty much means that most of these blogs are brain dumps...
Anyways....so a marriage and 2 kids later, I still struggle with my body image. So much that I have sent myself into anxiety attacks over the first signs of "muffin top". My anxiety comes from my frustration that only 4 months ago, I was a size 2. I was the smallest/thinnest I have ever been...and my desire to get back there has been overwhemling to the point of unhealthy. I easliy forget that the reason I lost all the weight was due to a high level of anxiety and circumstantial stress, so I had no appetite and only ate so I had enough energy to be able to run over my lunch. I forget the frustration I had every morning because I couldn't find anything that fit, everything would just hang off of me. I remember the comments from Yashmine that I had become the typical WG (White Girl)...meaning I had no booty. And again...I WASN'T happy! As I began to heal, the appetite came back (Tony's cooking helped with this, of course), and I began to enjoy life outside the gym again. I now understand what the phrase "Fat and happy" means now, but the "happy" is starting to be hidden by the shadow of a growing poor body image.
The funny thing is...if another female friend of mine comments on how she looks, I'm the first to stop her and tell her that she looks great and that I wish I had her curves...which is true! Curves are beautiful...they're what make a woman attractive. But why can't I appreciate mine? So I want to throw this out to the ladies reading my blog...or heck, you guys can chime in too about your frustration with women and our obsession with our looks. Ladies, why do we look at each other and think, "I wish I looked like her"? I mean, think about it...odds are there is someone out there that has thought that about you...yet we continue to criticize ourselves. So if you have an opinion, please share. Hopefully we can work together to keep each other in check.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
I ain't skeered of no rain....
The treadmills were full today. As I walked by them, my excitement to run in the rain and thunder grew. I LOVE TO RUN IN THE RAIN. A rainstorm is actually my ideal weather condition for a good run. People look at me like I'm crazy when I announce this, so let me explain.
When it's not raining, the air is still and the sun is usually beating down, a combination that produces heat, and lots of sweat. So in the still, hot air, I am left to try to think about how awesome I feel while running, how all the hard work is going to pay off and eventually I will have rock hard legs and no more cellulite. Pffftttt.....Yeah right! Sorry, I couldn't even type that with a straight face. Don't get me wrong, I TRY to think these things, but I always end up thinking the same thing "This sucks. My legs hurt."
But the rain....the rain, my friends, is the perfect distraction. I love the feeling of getting pelted in the face and legs and arms by cool raindrops. And when it's raining so heavy that I have trouble seeing because my hair is so drenched that the rain is dripping into my eyes...I am in Runner's Heaven, if there is such a place. Because while I'm focusing on the rain drops, I'm not thinking about my sore legs or the heat, and before I know it, I've already put in some decent mileage.
Is it all making sense now?
Yeah, so clearly I didn't hate today's run...Yay! Mini-victory for me! Actually, I can say that I don't hate running this week. I even signed up for a 5K on Saturday. I've had two 3.3 mile runs this week, and with a Zumba class tomorrow and a short run on Friday, I feel confident that I will earn that piece of pie at the end of the race.
All together now....Hip hip hooray for motivation!
When it's not raining, the air is still and the sun is usually beating down, a combination that produces heat, and lots of sweat. So in the still, hot air, I am left to try to think about how awesome I feel while running, how all the hard work is going to pay off and eventually I will have rock hard legs and no more cellulite. Pffftttt.....Yeah right! Sorry, I couldn't even type that with a straight face. Don't get me wrong, I TRY to think these things, but I always end up thinking the same thing "This sucks. My legs hurt."
But the rain....the rain, my friends, is the perfect distraction. I love the feeling of getting pelted in the face and legs and arms by cool raindrops. And when it's raining so heavy that I have trouble seeing because my hair is so drenched that the rain is dripping into my eyes...I am in Runner's Heaven, if there is such a place. Because while I'm focusing on the rain drops, I'm not thinking about my sore legs or the heat, and before I know it, I've already put in some decent mileage.
Is it all making sense now?
Yeah, so clearly I didn't hate today's run...Yay! Mini-victory for me! Actually, I can say that I don't hate running this week. I even signed up for a 5K on Saturday. I've had two 3.3 mile runs this week, and with a Zumba class tomorrow and a short run on Friday, I feel confident that I will earn that piece of pie at the end of the race.
All together now....Hip hip hooray for motivation!
Thursday, May 5, 2011
And......I'm 30
I said farewell to my 20s on Saturday, and I did it in style by spending the weekend in Kansas City with some good friends of mine....who didn't let me forget that I was turning 30 :o) Thank you to everyone who wished me happy birthday via text or Facebook. Without my family and friends, my life wouldn't be worth living....or nearly as much fun! Stay tuned for an update on my running coming very soon.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Grand Blue Mile Run
Everyone who has been around me the last couple weeks knows how excited I've been for this race. I ran it last year and was incredibly nervous, but ended up kicking tail. Last year, I had signed up for the Competitive Division, but then dropped out when I was logging 10-11 minute miles and it was recommended to have a sub- 9 minute mile pace. I ran in the Recreational Division, which was a lot of fun, and I ended up getting a time of 8:10 (that's 8 minutes, 10 seconds for you, Mom). I was extremely proud of myself and instantly became excited for the 2nd Annual Grand Blue Mile Run. I had planned on signing up for the Competitive division this year, but decided not to when my co-workers who I had convinced to sign up with me signed up for Recreational.
I was ready to blow away last year's time because I've been training much longer than last time. My goal was to get under 8 minutes.
The race ended up not going as smoothly as I'd hoped. It was windier than I remembered, and there were twice as many people registered this year than last year, which meant a lot more weaving in and out. I even had 2 instances where I almost ran into/tripped over a kid. Despite the announcer reminding the participants 37 times to line up with runners in the front, joggers in the middle, and walkers in the back....there were still walkers in the front that the runners and joggers had to dodge. Sorry to sound pretentious, but it was annoying and dangerous.
Anyways....
I was a little too ambitious and started out too strong, and by the time I was 3/4 done, the following thoughts went through my mind:
I was ready to blow away last year's time because I've been training much longer than last time. My goal was to get under 8 minutes.
The race ended up not going as smoothly as I'd hoped. It was windier than I remembered, and there were twice as many people registered this year than last year, which meant a lot more weaving in and out. I even had 2 instances where I almost ran into/tripped over a kid. Despite the announcer reminding the participants 37 times to line up with runners in the front, joggers in the middle, and walkers in the back....there were still walkers in the front that the runners and joggers had to dodge. Sorry to sound pretentious, but it was annoying and dangerous.
Anyways....
I was a little too ambitious and started out too strong, and by the time I was 3/4 done, the following thoughts went through my mind:
- "It's windy out here, that kind of sucks"
- "Am I even half-way yet?"
- "Kid!"
- "I have to pee"
- "I'm tired"
- "This isn't as much fun as I remember"
- "Kid! Dammit, get out of my way!"
- "I have to pee"
- "How am I ever going to run a half marathon?"
- "I really have to pee"
- "Why don't I see the finish line, dammit?"
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Another fallen hero...
On Saturday, April 23rd, another Iowan soldier was killed fighting for our country, the third one in 13 days. Learning of a soldier's death always weighs on my heart, this one weighs much heavier. Staff Sgt. James Justice was the husband of my close friend Amanda, and daddy of Abby and Sydney's friend, Caydence.
I can't shake the memory of receiving AJ's (Amanda) call. I almost didn't answer because I was in the middle of a card game, but I did because she doesn't call just to chat. We work next to each other 40 hours a week, there's no need to. My cheerful "Hey, what's up?" was greeted with a cracked and quiet "Hi". I knew something was wrong...but the news that she was about to share hadn't even crossed my mind. James hadn't been in Afghanistan very long, a little over a month. This was his fourth tour, he knew what he was doing. He knew better than to put himself in harm's danger. He was James Justice, always a party, but could easily turn bad-ass serious when necessary. It's not that bad over there...aren't they just playing with the children? These were all thoughts that immediately went through my mind, the last one I'm particularly ashamed of.
My thoughts of denial were reflected in my response: "No AJ, he can't be. Are you sure he's not just missing? Are they sure it's him?" And I didn't believe it until the press conference Sunday night.
It was him.
I've always appreciated the men and women who are fighting for my freedom and security so I can go to work and take my daughters to the park without worrying about our safety, but losing James and seeing the swollen red eyes and tear-streaked faces of his family on Sunday was a painful reminder of how expensive the cost for my freedom and safety is. It's sad how de-sensitized to the war we have become. When it started, 9 long years ago, we were vocal with our patriotism and pride in our troops...but over the years, we have gotten caught up with our own lives and routines and forgotten that there are still men and women fighting a war, not only fighting for us, but fighting for the innocent civilians in these countries. And living among us are the families who have graciously sacrificed their time with their loved ones so we can spend time with ours. James' sacrifice woke me up to the fact that there are men and women who die for our country every day. Every day, families receive the same news that Amanda and James' parents received on Saturday. Every day, there is a fallen hero that goes unnoticed.
Staff Sgt. James Justice was a husband, a father, a son, an uncle, and a best friend. He loved to remind AJ how lucky she was to have him...and he was right, we were all lucky to have met him and shared in his laughter. My favorite memory is the last time I saw James. He was making a trip out to Wal-Mart and he was wearing his sweatpants that were pulled up to the tops of his combat boots. I teased him about his outfit before he left, and when he returned from the store, he jokingly told his wife of all the underage girls that were hitting on him because of his sexy outfit. AJ rolled her eyes at her husband, unsuccessfully holding back a smile. My older daughter, Abby, remembers him as "a good dinner-maker, and funny". We all have our own memories of James that will now be our last.
James, I'm sorry I never had a chance to thank you for the sacrifice you made for me and the ones I love. However, it is a sacrifice that will never be forgotten.
I can't shake the memory of receiving AJ's (Amanda) call. I almost didn't answer because I was in the middle of a card game, but I did because she doesn't call just to chat. We work next to each other 40 hours a week, there's no need to. My cheerful "Hey, what's up?" was greeted with a cracked and quiet "Hi". I knew something was wrong...but the news that she was about to share hadn't even crossed my mind. James hadn't been in Afghanistan very long, a little over a month. This was his fourth tour, he knew what he was doing. He knew better than to put himself in harm's danger. He was James Justice, always a party, but could easily turn bad-ass serious when necessary. It's not that bad over there...aren't they just playing with the children? These were all thoughts that immediately went through my mind, the last one I'm particularly ashamed of.
My thoughts of denial were reflected in my response: "No AJ, he can't be. Are you sure he's not just missing? Are they sure it's him?" And I didn't believe it until the press conference Sunday night.
It was him.
I've always appreciated the men and women who are fighting for my freedom and security so I can go to work and take my daughters to the park without worrying about our safety, but losing James and seeing the swollen red eyes and tear-streaked faces of his family on Sunday was a painful reminder of how expensive the cost for my freedom and safety is. It's sad how de-sensitized to the war we have become. When it started, 9 long years ago, we were vocal with our patriotism and pride in our troops...but over the years, we have gotten caught up with our own lives and routines and forgotten that there are still men and women fighting a war, not only fighting for us, but fighting for the innocent civilians in these countries. And living among us are the families who have graciously sacrificed their time with their loved ones so we can spend time with ours. James' sacrifice woke me up to the fact that there are men and women who die for our country every day. Every day, families receive the same news that Amanda and James' parents received on Saturday. Every day, there is a fallen hero that goes unnoticed.
Staff Sgt. James Justice was a husband, a father, a son, an uncle, and a best friend. He loved to remind AJ how lucky she was to have him...and he was right, we were all lucky to have met him and shared in his laughter. My favorite memory is the last time I saw James. He was making a trip out to Wal-Mart and he was wearing his sweatpants that were pulled up to the tops of his combat boots. I teased him about his outfit before he left, and when he returned from the store, he jokingly told his wife of all the underage girls that were hitting on him because of his sexy outfit. AJ rolled her eyes at her husband, unsuccessfully holding back a smile. My older daughter, Abby, remembers him as "a good dinner-maker, and funny". We all have our own memories of James that will now be our last.
James, I'm sorry I never had a chance to thank you for the sacrifice you made for me and the ones I love. However, it is a sacrifice that will never be forgotten.
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