Impossible is a typoRunning my pants off and loving myself along the way

FatGirl Rant:
You’ve got to be freakin kidding me! A half marathon?? What the hell did you register us for a half marathon for? Don’t you realize that’s 13 miles. Wait no, it is THIRTEEN POINT ONE MILES. Point ONE for god sakes. Do you know how much work will have to go into that. When the hell are we going to have time for that? Hm? Missy answer that. We have a long commute, a new job, this stupid class, we don’t have time for this nonsense. And I am so not waking up at the crack of dawn to go running or hit the gym. That’s stupid. THIRTEEN POINT ONE MILES. That is the most stupid thing I’ve ever heard.

Yup. Fat Girl is running a half marathon.

I am, apparently, a lunatic. Or that’s what my inner Fat Girl was trying to tell me as I was leaving the house shortly after 5am to run. ON A SUNDAY.

Sunday’s are meant for breakfast in bed, doing the crossword puzzle and staying in your jammies for as long as possible.

Unfortunately, I long ago lost the concept of what Sunday’s are supposed to be about. I’ve been working Sunday’s for a really long time. When you work weekends, you sort of lose how special weekends can be. For me, its just another work day with lots to get done.

Also, my mother, in her infinite wisdom declared that Sunday Mornings would he Weight Watcher days. So regardless of work, I’d be up at 7:30am to face the scale.

Today is the last Sunday I have to work. I’m rather not excited about that as I seemed to have filled the next six Sundays with other stuff, so I’ll have to wait till fall to experience that lounging about in your jammies kind of day.

I’m starting a new trend… drum roll… May I present… Running Jammies!!

Yeah, that’s right, I slept in my running gear last night. Capri yoga pants, red sports bra, pink short sleeve top but not my socks or shoes. Those were right next to my bed with my iPod. I figure at 5am if I don’t have to worry about finding my gear to put on… if I ALREADY have it on, that will shave a few minutes off my morning and help this 5am running thing work. So All hail Running Jammies!

My life recently expanded. New job, new commute, an evening class, meeting with a client one night a week, and you know, trying to have a social life and stuff. And then of course that’s exactly when I decide to take on training for a half marathon. Noooooo, I couldn’t do a half when I was working part time and had no life! Of course not. I have to be super complicated. Obviously, out of the millions of people who train for endurance sports, or any sport really, contend with real lives that are real busy and they successfully complete there events, so intellectually I know that it is not IMPOSSIBLE.

But I’ve really had it in my head that it is IMPOSSIBLE for me to wake up at 5am or earlier and work out. I’ve tired before with every good intention but somehow my crazy inner Fat Girl always won the Snooze Button Battle and I’d end up sleeping in.

Well now, I came to a moment of choice. There are things in my life I want. I want to work in NYC. I want to not be broke. I want to participate in this class. And I want to run a half marathon. Oh yeah, and its become crystal clear to me that I cannot function on less than 7 hours of sleep a night. I could sacrifice one of those things and have an easy life.

OR

I can make it possible to have it all. This is a blog about making the impossible possible after all. So the way to have it all is to get super intentional about life. And live it exactly how it needs to be lived. And that means getting up at 5am and running twice a week. That means making bold requests of friends, family and colleagues that we meet later and in a location where I can show up sweaty from the gym. That means standing up and saying “I need to be on this train so I can get 7 hours of sleep”.

And what makes all of this possible is that I have found and cultivated a deep commitment to myself and living an awesome life and I am no longer willing to settle for less. And if that means 5am runs, I’m going to make that possible.

Oh crap, my 15 mins of blog time is up. There’s oatmeal to eat! A train to catch! LIFE TO LIVE!

I’ve gained weight. 14 pounds. That’s what’s so. There’s no judgement in that. That’s just reality. What’s so is I was sick, then sick and tired. Then I got into this space of not caring, of wanting to binge on junk and I did that. And that is completely out of whack with who I am. I’m not really a mopey whiney little girl but I guess I had to visit the Land of Woe is Me for a little while.

So how did I get here? I’ve been playing this game that I deserve to cheat the system, that I don’t need to count the points of the handful of Fritos I just downed. That I’m dissatisfied with my job so its ok to eat my way through it. That I don’t need to work out. That I’ll start again tomorrow.

Well tomorrow is here.

I’ve become very clear in the past few days that what I’m committed to is having an awesome life. I’m committed to me being awesome. And it doesn’t work when I get all funky in the present. The present is so fleeting. See? The preset, just now, became the past and you got a little bit of tomorrow. Hm I think this is another post.

So today, right now, in this moment, I’m committed to living that tomorrow.

I wrote two different Fitbloggin recap posts. Everyone else was doing it so I figured I should too. I’m a joiner like that. Neither post really speaks to me about what Fitbloggin was and wasn’t. You want a nuts and bolts recap of what happened? Go here. Read away.

What Fitbloggin was in my eyes was the creation of a community.

FitBloggin was Tara, compelting a 5K and then walking The Mile with Jess, not because he needed, but because she wanted to be part of the journey.

FitBloggin was DubyaWife running a 5K and realizing she CAN.

FitBloggin was about realizing that YOU make a difference in the world and maybe THE difference.

FitBlogging was about putting names to faces and accepting yourself just as you are

FitBloggin was about learning that you, just as you are, are enough.

FitBloggin was about being accepted and loved where ever you are in your life for who you are and what you do.

Oh and yeah, FitBloggin was about tutus!

The secret to FitBlogging success was not the panels or the food or the sponsors, but the people and the experience of love and acceptance.

DubyaWife’s snarkyness caught my attention on Twitter. Then she had to go a throw her own little Whine and Cheese party about how she was NOT a runner, even tho she was training for a 5K. Once we got THAT nonsense resolved and she declared herself a RUNNER, THIS is what became possible.

OMG What am I doing by Dubya Wife

The EXACT moment DubyaWife turned IMpossible to I'Mpossible

I hardly slept the night before.  New town, new people, new bed.  This whole Fitbloggin thing was new to me, but I was excited.  I rustled in the bed switching from side to side, hoping not to wake up my roommate.

Get some sleep, DubyaWife, you’re gonna need it.

Finally after trying to think of happy things… rainbows… fairies… unicorns pooping cupcakes… my eyes shut and I was out.  What seemed a moment later, the alarm clock ran, and I jumped out of bed eager to get on my running clothes.  I’m not sure why I was so eager but the nervous anticipation had me racing around like a rabbit in heat.

See DubyaWife, you CAN run! FatGirl told you so!

I made my way downstairs, across the lobby where I began to hear the chitter chatter of peoples.

Oh my gosh, all these people are here.

The nervousness set in more.

More people to watch my struggle, more people to pass me by.  More people to watch me fail.

I’d always imagined my first 5K to be at home, locally.  Not in Baltimore.  Perhaps running with my sister or my brother, who kept pace with me and encouraged me on.  All the while I was knowing that family and friends waitied at the finish line, ready to hug me, to give me a high-five, to cry with me.

This would not happen.

I was a face among a crowd.  I was in a strange city with strange people.  Only very few of them knew my 9 month struggle.  Would they know what this was worth to me?  Would they keep pace with me?  Would they cheer for me?

We made our way down to the starting line.  Nerves set in as a jumped up and down in place.

I am so nervous.  Omg, What am I doing!? WHAT AM I DOING!?!

I had been training since September of 2009.  I’ve had a popped bursa sac in my right knee,  stress fractured in my left knee, and up until this point hadn’t run 3.1 miles at all.  I hadn’t actually ever done this.  I was petrified…. and yet, excited at the same time.

Off we go, down the harbors of Baltimore.  There were many turns and streets we had to navigate, but I had some friends who were right there with me.

“We’ll keep pace with you, go as fast or as slow as you need us to.”

Right.  Great.  Breathe.  Slow.

As I went I listened to their conversation as they effortlessly talked during their run.  Envious a bit, I pushed the thought out of my brain.  It’s not about being like them.  It’s about completing this race.  One 5K – jogging the whole way.

My feet pounded.  My arms swayed.  My breathing rhythmic.

I can’t do this.  Eventually I’ll start walking.  And then I’ll hate myself for it.  I may be running now, but it wont last… just like all the times before.

Get that thought out of my head.  Get it out right now.  Remember what your friends said.  Slow pace, focused breathing.  Checklist of your body.  If you’re not injured, about to throw up, or close to fainting, keep going.  Once foot in front of the other.  One stride at a time.

And so I kept going.  I kept running.  Across wooden docks with the salty, fishy sea air.  Across cobbled streets with Old American architecture-like houses.  A gray haze was over the sky that day, no sun, so that’s good.  Perfect weather.  Perhaps this is the ideal situation for my first 5K.

My heart is pounding… My lungs are having difficulty breathing in and out… And every time I cough it feels like my throat is on fire.  I can’t do this.  I’ll finish this portion and then walk.

One foot in front of the other, DubyaWife.  Focused.

We get to the half way point… or at least close to the halfway point.  I get excited to see that I’m halfway done.

I’m only halfway done!?!? Hell no, I’ll never make it through this.  I’ve gone only halfway and I feel like I’m dying.  My heart rate is through the roof.  Only halfway!!!

Keep going.  One stride and then the next.  Focused breathing.  Listen to your friends conversation.  It will distract you. They are here with you.  They are running with you.  Look at your friends as they give you high-fives for making it half way.  They support you.  They want you to succeed, and you do too.  You can do this.  Keep going.  I find my friend FatGirlsCanRun.  She says she wants to run part of the race with me.  I’m inspired.

And so I keep running, making our way back.  I can’t talk and jog at this point, it’s too difficult.  The crowd is more sparse now.  Only me and my two running friends.  But they’re here with me, they won’t leave me.  I run beside another friend who seems to be struggling.  We focus our breathing together.  It helps me, I hope it helps her too.

I stride.  I stride and I stride and I stride.  We’re getting close at this point.  I look up and see the hotel that is our starting point.  That’s gives me some hope.

Omg, it’s so far away.  I’ll never make it to that building.  It’s so very far away.

I keep going.  I feel like I may cough up my lungs.  Back through the same path, twists and turns, salty harbor air, with wet ground beneath as my feet labor with each step.

I feel heavy.  My legs are heavy.  I want to give up.

The hotel is getting closer.  I can see that I’m closer now.

I’m almost done now, I can just walk the rest of the way… I should just walk…

I want to run in!  I want to run in and know that I finished it the way I started.

You can’t do it.

Yes I can.  Yes I will.

A couple more steps.  A frog develops in my throat.  Tears fill up my yes.  I see the corner where we started, but no one’s there.

See, there’s no cheer.  Your family isn’t here.  No one’s there.

I turn the corner.  I stop.  I look up as my lungs finally start to breathe.

And I’m bombarded with cheers… with hugs… with high-fives… with pictures.  With smiles.  I sob (and almost hyperventilate) cause I’m so happy.

I look up at the sky….

You did it.  You did it.  Be proud.  You did it.

I smile from ear to ear as I grab my phone and call my husband.

Me: “Baby, I did it!  I ran a 5K!”
Dubya: “That’s great!”
Me: <sobbing> “I can’t believe I did it, I ran the whole thing!”
Dubya: “I’m so proud of you!”
Me: “Oh I wish you were here, everyone’s cheering.”
Dubya: “I wish I were there too.  I’m proud of you.  Congrats, baby!”

And so something I thought was impossible was possible. Through the power of positive thinking and a little help with my friends.  

Dubya: “Now get off the phone baby and breathe, you sound like you’re about to die. Ha!”

Special shout out to: @262milejourney @runningknitwit @shrinkinggretch who ran with me and of course @FatGirlsCanRun

An unexpected business call this morning derailed my morning run plans. My Crazy Inner Fat Girl didn’t mind at all as she got to sip a smoothing in her jammies and not get sweaty. And low a train delay is now derailing my afternoon meeting plans. AND I have to figure out how to get my 10000 steps in for the day without a run. So I’m figure why not walk the length of the train platform once or twice to get a couple of hundred steps in.

FatGirl chatting with Dr Fitness and the Fat Guy

Fat Girl: OMG I can believe we’re going on an internet radio show and we’re going to tell the WHOLE WORLD that we’re *whispers* F A T.

Fit Girl: I wonder if we should hydrate before the interview. I don’t think we’ll need to carbo load tho.

Fat Girl: Holy Handbags! What do we wear?? Will these yoga pants make my butt look big on radio? Does this mic make my voice sound fat?

There was a time in my life where I was doing a lot of television appearances, and I had a weekly radio show. I was living overseas, and as the token white chick in the government, they had me in front of the camera as much as possible. I remember coming home one day after being surprised by camera crews who wanted the local ex-pat opinion a boycott of French wines and good. I flipped on the TV and there I was. EEP! I dove for the remote. It’s amazing how fast a fat girl can move when properly motivated. The only problem – the interview was on the two other channels also. I promptly left the house for medicinal donuts and  sake.

At Fitblggin, I had the opportunity to be interview by Dr. Fitness and the Fat Guy for their radio show. It was a delightful experience and the guys are awesome. Their show is live every Thursday at 11:30am EST. Put in in your schedule and make it your medicinal donut for the week!

Holy cow! Jillian Michaels new book AND the new New Balance sneakers. Oh and popchips!