Before we go back to our regularly scheduled blog programming (which for this blog would be a post in say, eh, two months from now?), I wanted to say thanks for all the supportive words.
In typical M form, I felt all embarrassed immediately after I put up that post - like, now everyone can see my big old public meltdown. But whatever - it is what it is. It happened (is happening) and that's life. It can't always be puppy dogs and rainbows all the time. Well, it can, but then I would want to know what medication you were on.
There were also a few things that I failed to say before my brain vomit took over. The first is that I have reached out for help, though I would admit that it was probably not as much as I need to. My family does live close to me, and they have jumped in here and there to help (like taking Baby D for a few hours so I can go a meeting or to the gym), but they all have their own families and lives, so it's hard to ask them to drop their families just to help take care if mine. Both of my sisters have careers and barely see their own kids, so asking them to come over and spend time with mine seems...not okay. My mom also has helped out, but she lives far, and most of her free days are spent taking care of her sister or babysitting my nieces and nephews. And I am super uber grateful for any help that they have provided, but I just have a hard time asking for it.
But in the last few weeks, I've just put these thoughts aside and asked for help - I figure, if they can't help, they will just say no. But it can't hurt to ask. It's hard for me, but I've been trying to do it.
Also, the person that really has the shit end of the stick is my husband. It's kind of shitty of me to complain about having to hang with my kid every day when he goes months without seeing him. I can't even imagine what it must feel like to have see your child grow up through pictures texted to him, or a Skype session every now and then. It would suck, I tell you. And he's super isolated for weeks on end. But I know that he is sacrificing for the best interest of the family, and in the near future (to be discussed next post), we will be in better place all around, and my husband will finally be able to be off the road.
So yeah. That's that. I'm getting back on my feet, slowly but surely. Thanks again for the kind words. At some point I'll get to my race report. Probably around the time I run the next one in 10 days.
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
Monday, May 7, 2012
Climbing Out of the Well
And I’m not just talking about racing (but there is racing only
it’s coming in the following post).
Listen, I’m just gonna be real for a few minutes. There's no funny in this post, because there hasn’t
been a lot of funny in the last few months.
See, I actually wrote this post twice – the first time was
in March, and then the revised version was about three weeks ago. But something kept me from hitting “publish.”
I am not sure why – I don’t usually hide “me” from this site
(as evidenced by my gross-ass pregnancy posts), but there is something about
what was going on for me in the last two months that I wasn’t comfortable just
putting it out there. Shame? Maybe. But my career is mental health, so I am not
sure why when it comes to my own, I hide it.
So here goes.
Basically, I’ve been wallowing in a black hole of depression
for about two months. Not of the
post-partum variety, but more of the my-husband-is-gone-for-three-months-and-I’m-tired-and-stuck-and-overwhelmed-and-overworked-and-my-life-is-unrecognizable-and-I-feel-like-shit-about-myself.
Sort of along those lines.
It’s kind of hard to sum up in way that is not so whoa-is-me
(maybe that’s why I didn’t publish the previous post – because I sound so
whiney). But basically my husband’s been
gone, like, for the last thee of the five months. So it’s been me. Just me. And baby. All day.
All night. Just us.
And I work from home too – which on the surface sounds
ideal, but my job is a 16-hour a day ordeal – so balancing a newborn/infant and
a grueling job for months on end – well, my life just sort of because me, work,
baby. No running, no gym – fuck, most
days no showering, toothbrushing or fresh air.
Some days would be so bad I would realize I hadn’t left the
house I a few days, so I would just pack up the little dude and walk around
Target. Just ‘cause.
I'm not articulating this well, and there’s way more to it – but I’ll leave it at that. I was just super depressed, which was compounded by extreme fatigue. I still am, and everyday is a battle, but I am trying hard to shake it off.
So here I am with my mental and physical health both on a downward spiral. To top it off, I had registered for a half-marathon, thinking that May would definately be enough time to get back on track. And it would have been, if I actually had a
second to myself. But by three weeks pre-race, my longest run was 6
miles, and I hadn’t run for the two weeks after Easter. For the second time in my life (the first
being my first IM attempt), I was sure I would have to DNS a race.
And the icing on my misery cake? The stress of my job and
single parenting (and gross lack of self-care) decreased – and then terminated –
my breast milk production. So on top of
my failure at life, I was now a parenting failure. I couldn’t even be trusted to feed my own kid
with my boobs.
And that was the worst of all. When I came to terms with it (I was trying to
pump out every last drop for a few weeks), it just sealed the depression. I
hated my life, I hated my job, and I hated being a parent. I didn’t hate my child, but I cried almost
every day because it all just felt so endless, exhausting, and miserable. I don't even know how to explain it - how bad I felt.
But then my husband came home for a few days, and I had to make a decision - sit in my own shit, or take some sort of control. So like a light switch, I flipped it around and got my
mind right – I took advantage of his presence, took some time off work, and had
some private time (even it was only to get a pedi, some coffee, and drive around without a diaper bag and kid screaming in the back seat).
Oh, and I ran. I just ran.
I went to the gym, I got an 8-miler in, and actually did a few speed
workouts. And even though my husband left
again six days later, I felt like I could participate in my life again. Just getting out for a few days for some "M
time" made all the difference in the world.
And at the end of it, I decided that – no matter what – I would
race. I would gut it out because I
committed to it. I would show up because I needed to finish what I
started. I knew it wouldn’t be my best
time, and I knew it would hurt. But I
would do it.
And I did.
More on that later. But before I put that race report in the next post, I am
going to leave you with some pictures of my little man – growing so fast, it
squeezes my heart. I feel so horrible
when I get to the dark place, because this little guy doesn’t deserve
that. No matter how bad I get, I work
hard not to let it show to him (and some days, wow, that’s hard). And I'm really proud that he's a super happy and strong kid. So here is what I’ve been developing in my
two-month blog absence:
"Did someone need directions to the muscle beach?"
Easter weekend at my mom's
Don't we all have our deepest thoughts in the tub?
Sweet angel. Fat, sweet angel.
Cowboy Easter, yo.
"Great ham, grandma. What's for dessert?"
Fun with stickers. Eye brow raise courtesy of his momma's genetics.
Looks like he's got some peaches stuck in his cheeks.
The afternoon following a morning of screaming bloody murder - him, not me. Surprisingly.
Who is this lady with make up and real clothes? Is that perfume I smell? Call 911! I've been kidnapped!
Workday fun.
And some more
First zoo trip!! Someone is unimpressed by the enormous swimming BEAR in the background.
And then unimpressed with bath time. Man, I can't win some days.
Big enough for his cousin's saucer! Or as mom likes to call it, "Mom's morning coffee time babysitter."
16 years from now, some hussy is going to make him swoon. My heart is already breaking...
"Aw don't worry mom! You'll always be my favorite!"
Nap time's over.
"So then I was like, 'Girl, no you didn't with those skinny jeans!'
And then she's like, "Oh yes I did!'
And then I'm like, "Oh snap!"
Dad's home!
I remember this guy!
Busy time with his saucer.
Dad love.
"Mom you're so silly! Stop with the pictures! Or at least get my good side."
Why am I on my belly, you ask? Well, because I rolled over onto it! I RULE!
The coffee time babysitter saucer is back. "Hey mom, I made a surprise in my pants for you, so hurry up and finish your coffee!"
First attempt at real food!
Toe jam. It's what's for breakfast.
My love.
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Catching Up
Well hello there!
It's, uh, been quite a while, eh?
Truth told, I tried posting twice before - with weeks worth of daily updates on the fitness front. But blogger ate them up before they actually published, leading to a string of curses and me breaking up with it. But now I'm back. Let's see if this actually takes this time...
So, what's been happening in this corner of the blog world?
This:
Yeah, that's pretty much it. It's sleep, wake, feed, play, work, work, work, work, eat, feed, sleep, wake....and so on. Between taking care of this growing man, and managing the madness of my job, it's been crazy around here.
Baby D is doing great though, if I do say so myself. Turns out, I'm not such a terrible mom after all. I mean, in practical terms, he's healthy, chunky, gaining weight and getting long, all thanks to the milkies that I manufacture. So that's pretty cool - you know, how the human body works and all.
And he's a super happy kid. 90% of the time, he's super chill, and seems to only fuss if he's sleepy or cutting teeth (which he is, albiet somewhat early). He's rolled over already last month, but hasn't done it in a few weeks, despite my prompting during daily belly time. He was getting super close to sleeping through the night (he did once, and has only been waking for one night feeding for some time now), but he's started to fall back into multiple wakings. Not sure what this is about - again, it could be the teeth thing, it could be a response to us trying to put him down a bit earlier. But whatever the case, the nights have been a slight struggle these last two weeks.
Oh, and the little dude took his first airplane trip! Went to visit the inlaws in Kansas for the weekend and he was great!
As for my fitness? Eh, it's coming. And then going.
I was doing well for a few weeks, dropped eight pounds pretty quickly (funny how clean eating and running does that), but then life hit - and by life, I mean stupid crazy work. And when work stress increases, so (oddly) does my intake of Oreos and Mike n Ikes.
And MnMs.
And newly - Ben and Jerrys.
GAH!!!! Is there no end to this list of shame?!?!?
There would be days where I would be up with the kid at night, then sit at my work computer at 8am, and not get up or look up until 7pm or later. Well, let me clarify this: I do a lot of my work from home, and you might think this would make for an ideal work sitaution. But when you work from home and have a newborn, you are basically doing two full-time jobs. And the same time. Yeah, the upside is that I get to see my kid all through the day (yay!) but the downside is that I spend my days on the phone, answering emails and reading reports - so most of thse tasks are done while I am simultaneously nursing or soothing the kid, pumping milkies, washing pump stuff and bottles, picking up the house, etc.
But please don't read that as a complaint - again, I am completely aware of the benefit of being able to work from home. I wouldn't change it for anything - I can't imagine being away from him for 8 hours at a time. It's just slightly tough some days, that's all I'm saying. And it's a lot harder to just walk away from the (endless) work at the end of the day when people need everything Right.This.Second, rather than leave it at the office. Hence, gym time can easily get pushed to the side. Over and over.
However, I have definately learned that (sorry if this sounds like some sort of cheesy inspirational poster) I am a much better person after I get a run in. I come back home, and feel like I can tackle anything baby or work. I just feel healthier, eat healthier, and much friendlier (ask my husband). Sure, right now they are hard, laborious, and I am still heavy in my weight. But a nice sweat does a body and mind good.
But there was a two week period last month where I went without working out. Not once in two weeks. So yeah, you can imagine what a sweet pea I was to be around. It got pretty ugly. And last week I only squeezed three runs in. Again - not great. And as we all know - once you miss one run, it's eaier to miss another, then another, then another. And the next thing you know, you're five pounds heavier and your muscles have started to atrophy.
Couple that with some serious binge eating (sad side effect of work stress) - and needless to say, the weight has been slow to come off. Even all the breastfeeding doesn't really seem to be making a dent, but I certainly hold myself accountable.
So that's where I have been. I'd promise to get back more regular on the posting, but I'm going to be honest. I can't hardly find time to shower some days - but I'll try to do better about it. In the meantime, here's a few picture of my porkchop. Once I shed a few more pounds, I'll get back to posting pictures of myself, but for now, this blog is only big enough for one fatty. And here he is.
He's like the King of Fatdom, looking down his belly at all the lowly subjects in his land. "Get me some more milkies, you peasent!"
Bathies are his best.
Blue Steel.
He's sitting upright on his own! Well, on his own in the Bumbo, but still. Yay for neck control! And camo pants!
"Welcome to my playmat!"
Eh, just handing in my new jeans. You know, no biggie. Just being cute, is all.
In ihgh pajamas at the airport, right before getting on the plane. He passed out shortly thereafter.
Rolls, rolls, rolls...
This guy.
It's, uh, been quite a while, eh?
Truth told, I tried posting twice before - with weeks worth of daily updates on the fitness front. But blogger ate them up before they actually published, leading to a string of curses and me breaking up with it. But now I'm back. Let's see if this actually takes this time...
So, what's been happening in this corner of the blog world?
This:
Yeah, that's pretty much it. It's sleep, wake, feed, play, work, work, work, work, eat, feed, sleep, wake....and so on. Between taking care of this growing man, and managing the madness of my job, it's been crazy around here.
Baby D is doing great though, if I do say so myself. Turns out, I'm not such a terrible mom after all. I mean, in practical terms, he's healthy, chunky, gaining weight and getting long, all thanks to the milkies that I manufacture. So that's pretty cool - you know, how the human body works and all.
And he's a super happy kid. 90% of the time, he's super chill, and seems to only fuss if he's sleepy or cutting teeth (which he is, albiet somewhat early). He's rolled over already last month, but hasn't done it in a few weeks, despite my prompting during daily belly time. He was getting super close to sleeping through the night (he did once, and has only been waking for one night feeding for some time now), but he's started to fall back into multiple wakings. Not sure what this is about - again, it could be the teeth thing, it could be a response to us trying to put him down a bit earlier. But whatever the case, the nights have been a slight struggle these last two weeks.
Oh, and the little dude took his first airplane trip! Went to visit the inlaws in Kansas for the weekend and he was great!
As for my fitness? Eh, it's coming. And then going.
I was doing well for a few weeks, dropped eight pounds pretty quickly (funny how clean eating and running does that), but then life hit - and by life, I mean stupid crazy work. And when work stress increases, so (oddly) does my intake of Oreos and Mike n Ikes.
And MnMs.
And newly - Ben and Jerrys.
GAH!!!! Is there no end to this list of shame?!?!?
There would be days where I would be up with the kid at night, then sit at my work computer at 8am, and not get up or look up until 7pm or later. Well, let me clarify this: I do a lot of my work from home, and you might think this would make for an ideal work sitaution. But when you work from home and have a newborn, you are basically doing two full-time jobs. And the same time. Yeah, the upside is that I get to see my kid all through the day (yay!) but the downside is that I spend my days on the phone, answering emails and reading reports - so most of thse tasks are done while I am simultaneously nursing or soothing the kid, pumping milkies, washing pump stuff and bottles, picking up the house, etc.
But please don't read that as a complaint - again, I am completely aware of the benefit of being able to work from home. I wouldn't change it for anything - I can't imagine being away from him for 8 hours at a time. It's just slightly tough some days, that's all I'm saying. And it's a lot harder to just walk away from the (endless) work at the end of the day when people need everything Right.This.Second, rather than leave it at the office. Hence, gym time can easily get pushed to the side. Over and over.
However, I have definately learned that (sorry if this sounds like some sort of cheesy inspirational poster) I am a much better person after I get a run in. I come back home, and feel like I can tackle anything baby or work. I just feel healthier, eat healthier, and much friendlier (ask my husband). Sure, right now they are hard, laborious, and I am still heavy in my weight. But a nice sweat does a body and mind good.
But there was a two week period last month where I went without working out. Not once in two weeks. So yeah, you can imagine what a sweet pea I was to be around. It got pretty ugly. And last week I only squeezed three runs in. Again - not great. And as we all know - once you miss one run, it's eaier to miss another, then another, then another. And the next thing you know, you're five pounds heavier and your muscles have started to atrophy.
Couple that with some serious binge eating (sad side effect of work stress) - and needless to say, the weight has been slow to come off. Even all the breastfeeding doesn't really seem to be making a dent, but I certainly hold myself accountable.
So that's where I have been. I'd promise to get back more regular on the posting, but I'm going to be honest. I can't hardly find time to shower some days - but I'll try to do better about it. In the meantime, here's a few picture of my porkchop. Once I shed a few more pounds, I'll get back to posting pictures of myself, but for now, this blog is only big enough for one fatty. And here he is.
He's like the King of Fatdom, looking down his belly at all the lowly subjects in his land. "Get me some more milkies, you peasent!"
Bathies are his best.
Blue Steel.
He's sitting upright on his own! Well, on his own in the Bumbo, but still. Yay for neck control! And camo pants!
"Welcome to my playmat!"
Eh, just handing in my new jeans. You know, no biggie. Just being cute, is all. 
In ihgh pajamas at the airport, right before getting on the plane. He passed out shortly thereafter.
Rolls, rolls, rolls...
This guy.That is all.
Friday, January 27, 2012
Super Fast
Workouts:
Wednesday - nothing.
Why? Had a breakfast meeting with my boss, came home to a breast-feeding frenzied baby, followed immediately up with a visit from my mom. By the time it was all said and done, it was late, my husband wasn't feeling well, and I was pretty much on baby patrol. It was one of those days that I know I will have a lot of in the future (the ones where the baby takes over and it's easy to make excuses), and I just need to plan better (like staying awake after the 5am feeding and going to the gym, instead of getting another hour of sleep. This continues to be my daily goal, but I have yet to acheive it).
Thursday
Total cardio - 55 minutes
44:45 min run for 4 miles (not sure why this one was a touch slower than previously).
10 min WU/CD
Today (Friday)
Nothing - had an early work meeting on the far south side of Chicago, a sick husband and a child that only slept 2 hours. ALL NIGHT. And because of sick husband and the need to get out of our germ infested house, I spent the rest of the day at my mom's house. Got home around 530pm, but (not surprisingly) with a creeping illness that I suspect has something to do with my husband's. And because of said sick husband, there was no one to take care of the wee one so that I could squeeze in a morning workout - even if I had the energy.
Tomorrow:
I am planning a 5 miler. Since I am going to be on my own for the next week (possibly four) and getting in my runs will require extreme strategizing, I am taking FULL advantage of some free time to get it done tomorrow.
Despite the two off days, I still feel okay about the fact that at least I didn't juts lay around the house on the couch - I managed to get out and do stuff. Moreover, my eating has been very much under control (slips are minor and infrequent). So not all was lost...
I know this post sucks - reflects my current energy level. Perhaps I'll have some more wit tomorrow...
Wednesday - nothing.
Why? Had a breakfast meeting with my boss, came home to a breast-feeding frenzied baby, followed immediately up with a visit from my mom. By the time it was all said and done, it was late, my husband wasn't feeling well, and I was pretty much on baby patrol. It was one of those days that I know I will have a lot of in the future (the ones where the baby takes over and it's easy to make excuses), and I just need to plan better (like staying awake after the 5am feeding and going to the gym, instead of getting another hour of sleep. This continues to be my daily goal, but I have yet to acheive it).
Thursday
Total cardio - 55 minutes
44:45 min run for 4 miles (not sure why this one was a touch slower than previously).
10 min WU/CD
Today (Friday)
Nothing - had an early work meeting on the far south side of Chicago, a sick husband and a child that only slept 2 hours. ALL NIGHT. And because of sick husband and the need to get out of our germ infested house, I spent the rest of the day at my mom's house. Got home around 530pm, but (not surprisingly) with a creeping illness that I suspect has something to do with my husband's. And because of said sick husband, there was no one to take care of the wee one so that I could squeeze in a morning workout - even if I had the energy.
Tomorrow:
I am planning a 5 miler. Since I am going to be on my own for the next week (possibly four) and getting in my runs will require extreme strategizing, I am taking FULL advantage of some free time to get it done tomorrow.
Despite the two off days, I still feel okay about the fact that at least I didn't juts lay around the house on the couch - I managed to get out and do stuff. Moreover, my eating has been very much under control (slips are minor and infrequent). So not all was lost...
I know this post sucks - reflects my current energy level. Perhaps I'll have some more wit tomorrow...
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
And For Today's Update...
This seriously must be some sort of blogging record for me.
Today's Workout:
Total cardio: 62:30
Run: 44:30 for 4 miles, 3 min WU, 5 min CD
Elliptical: 10 min
Today I decided that my new goal is to run off my inner thighs. I HATE the way they rub together now, not to mention the lunch buffet they make out of my running shorts. It's like my shorts are on the losing end of a Hunger Hungry Hippo game. Nom, nom, nom.
At some point, likely Thursday, I am going to start doing more strength training in addition to the cardio. But after trying to integrate into those intial workouts with dreadfully painful results, I decided to lay off until my legs were a little most acclimated - and now I think it's time.
I still had a mindful of madness today, but it was a bit better. And wonders of wonders - so was the run. It definately makes me hopeful, as each run seems to be bring me back to normal. In addition, starting next week, I would like to reintroduce my legs to speedwork, and start working off some of those mile times.
And fitness aside, I have a totally random thought I want to share:
You know the downside of having an "easy" baby? I was SOOOOOOO looking forward to using a screaming inconsolable baby as payback for the regular raging LOUD 2AM parties my downstairs college student neighbors like to throw (they were EPIC during my pregnancy). Alas, it was not meant to be, as my child is far too sweet to use for such glorious revenge. Perhaps I will have to "accidently" drop a doody diaper on their back steps when I take out the garbage next time.
Oh, and speaking of the little porkchop:
Handsome little man:
Guess who got a swing (read: Baby Ambian)?
Why hello there...
Today's Workout:
Total cardio: 62:30
Run: 44:30 for 4 miles, 3 min WU, 5 min CD
Elliptical: 10 min
Today I decided that my new goal is to run off my inner thighs. I HATE the way they rub together now, not to mention the lunch buffet they make out of my running shorts. It's like my shorts are on the losing end of a Hunger Hungry Hippo game. Nom, nom, nom.
At some point, likely Thursday, I am going to start doing more strength training in addition to the cardio. But after trying to integrate into those intial workouts with dreadfully painful results, I decided to lay off until my legs were a little most acclimated - and now I think it's time.
I still had a mindful of madness today, but it was a bit better. And wonders of wonders - so was the run. It definately makes me hopeful, as each run seems to be bring me back to normal. In addition, starting next week, I would like to reintroduce my legs to speedwork, and start working off some of those mile times.
And fitness aside, I have a totally random thought I want to share:
You know the downside of having an "easy" baby? I was SOOOOOOO looking forward to using a screaming inconsolable baby as payback for the regular raging LOUD 2AM parties my downstairs college student neighbors like to throw (they were EPIC during my pregnancy). Alas, it was not meant to be, as my child is far too sweet to use for such glorious revenge. Perhaps I will have to "accidently" drop a doody diaper on their back steps when I take out the garbage next time.
Oh, and speaking of the little porkchop:
Handsome little man:
Guess who got a swing (read: Baby Ambian)?
Why hello there...
Monday, January 23, 2012
Moving Right Along....
No post yesterday - I was too exhausted to even look at the computer, much less make it to the gym (and weigh myself). I guess when you have a nursing newborn, you're just going to have those days when you can barely lift your head off the pillow. Yesterday was one of them. Eh, maybe it's an excuse, but I pretty much knew from the moment I woke up that it wasn't going to happen. That's how tired I was.
But today - still tired - I pulled it together and hit the gym.
Workout:
Total Cardio: 65 minutes
30 min-elliptical
32 min - run 3 miles (1 minute faster than yesterday! It's a slow climb but a climb nonetheless!)
3 min - warm-up/cool down
Every day, including today, it's getting better. Both sets felt good, and I actually felt like I could keep running. But since I promised everyone (read: husband and doctor) that I would take it easy, I stopped once I hit my planned 3, and then planned to try 4 tomorrow. And wonders never cease - I am actually looking foward to it!
Perhaps today's workout was good because there was a lot on my mind. Changes are afoot here at the Project - in a major life-as-we-know-it kind of way. As a result, I had to break some bad news to someone right before I went into the gym, and it was hard to take my mind off of the whole situation. Can't say much more about it all just yet, but once the pieces are in place, I'll put it out there for consumption.
Later.
But today - still tired - I pulled it together and hit the gym.
Workout:
Total Cardio: 65 minutes
30 min-elliptical
32 min - run 3 miles (1 minute faster than yesterday! It's a slow climb but a climb nonetheless!)
3 min - warm-up/cool down
Every day, including today, it's getting better. Both sets felt good, and I actually felt like I could keep running. But since I promised everyone (read: husband and doctor) that I would take it easy, I stopped once I hit my planned 3, and then planned to try 4 tomorrow. And wonders never cease - I am actually looking foward to it!
Perhaps today's workout was good because there was a lot on my mind. Changes are afoot here at the Project - in a major life-as-we-know-it kind of way. As a result, I had to break some bad news to someone right before I went into the gym, and it was hard to take my mind off of the whole situation. Can't say much more about it all just yet, but once the pieces are in place, I'll put it out there for consumption.
Later.
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Keeping My Word
Today's Workout:
Total Cardio - 73 minutes
30 min - Bike (on trainer - first since March!)
43 min - Treadmill (Run 33 minutes for 3 miles, walk 10 min warm-up/cool down)
Weight:
TBD tomorrow
Thoughts:
Finally, a workout that I didn't want to cry about.
Granted, the trainer ride was primarily an easy spin (yeah, not hitting the speed and hill intervals just yet - but I still worked up a decent sweat), and the run is still minutes/mile off my pre-pregnancy time, but I don't care. I got 3 in, and I know I won't be as sore tomorrow as I was after last week's 3. So, all-in-all, progress.
But dang, this is a far longer road that I was anticipating. But I'm not getting down on that because I know my body is being used for so many things right now (like keeping my kid alive) that it's going to take a while for it get used to giving even more. It's just a huge wake-up call.
So on that short note, I'm out.
Total Cardio - 73 minutes
30 min - Bike (on trainer - first since March!)
43 min - Treadmill (Run 33 minutes for 3 miles, walk 10 min warm-up/cool down)
Weight:
TBD tomorrow
Thoughts:
Finally, a workout that I didn't want to cry about.
Granted, the trainer ride was primarily an easy spin (yeah, not hitting the speed and hill intervals just yet - but I still worked up a decent sweat), and the run is still minutes/mile off my pre-pregnancy time, but I don't care. I got 3 in, and I know I won't be as sore tomorrow as I was after last week's 3. So, all-in-all, progress.
But dang, this is a far longer road that I was anticipating. But I'm not getting down on that because I know my body is being used for so many things right now (like keeping my kid alive) that it's going to take a while for it get used to giving even more. It's just a huge wake-up call.
So on that short note, I'm out.
Friday, January 20, 2012
Plugging Away
Accountability.
I can’t escape it.
It’s on blogs. It’s on status updates. It’s all around.
Mostly, I’ve seen it in regards to people’s New Year’s resolutions or the start of many a-training season and race goals. People coming clean about weight/eating issues, people calling themselves out when they half-ass workouts.
So as I embark on my own personal goals post-pregnancy, I have decided to hold my own self accountable - come clean about my own shortcomings or shame-based behaviors.
First, in regards to my fitness. I mentioned that I signed up for a half-marathon in May. Early May. So that means I need to be flushing all my excuses down the shame-toilet and hitting the gym daily. Right now, this does not happen. Why? Because after multiple all-night feedings, my mornings usually consist of handing the offspring to my husband, and either:
A) Going back to bed for a few extra hours or
B) Sitting on the couch, inhaling hot coffee, and staring blankly into the television (which sadly is usually on Kelly Ripa because I am too damn tired to change it after the early morning news ended prior to it) while I wait for said offspring to wake from his all-too-brief nap looking for his milkies.
The day then unfolds with a series of feedings, diaper changes, and quality time. The next thing I know, it’s 10pm, and I’ve managed to make excuses all day to avoid the gym.
I made it to the gym three times last week, and even got in a 3-mile run Sunday (which I then paid for with excrutiating muscle soreness for the next two days, courtosy of my 3-month hiatus from anything more physical than climbing the stairs to my 2-floor apartment, and that didn’t even happen everday. Shit, when I see it on paper, it hits me how lazy I got in those final months, bedrest or not.)
So I went back twice this week, and got in a 60-minute workout both times, which included 30 minutes on the elliptical and a 2-mile run with a warm-up and cool down. And it sucked the whole time. Both times.
No, seriously. Like, I finally felt a warm kinship to the contestants on the Biggest Loser during their first few weeks. Quite a change from where I was 10 months ago, when you would have found me sitting on my couch, calling them cry babies, and screaming at them for not respecting their amazing opportunity.
But I’ll go back. Again. And again. And then at some point, it won’t actually suck. As much.
So accountability goal #1 – post every workout, which includes doing something physical everyday – even if it means walking around the dang block. This way, I am forced to actually leave the house, move my body, and continue getting my fitness back so that I can actually tolerate myself. Oh, and also finish the race.
Next up – weight. Now, while I can’t actually bring myself to post the number of my current – ahem – situation, I will post the amount needed to lose, and the amount lost. So, at my doctor’s appointment Monday, I weighed in at a heafty…number. The number was 27 pounds over my normal weight (3 down from the initial 30, so some early progress?) So once a week, I will check in with my progress and post the amount lost that week – kind of like a poor man’s version of a Weight Watchers meeting. But without Jennifer Hudson singing empowering songs in the background as my own personal soundtrack.
And in order to do this, I will need to post more – even it’s just a numbers update, sans (questionably) witty commentary. Once daily - a workout post. Once weekly - a weight update.
Now that I’ve put that out there, I need to follow through. And this will be hard because I go back to work in a week, so I'll be fullt-ime mom and full-time psychologist again. But I want to do this for at least the next month, because I figure that will be enough time to actually get me back on track to the point I actually like being healthy again. Because right now, the only thing I really like is laying on the couch, streaming movies from Netflix, eating cheese puffs and cake frosting from a plastic jar while hanging with my kid and making funny faces to get him to smile (though not necessarily in that order – but wouldn’t it be shameful if I liked cheese puffs and cake frosting more than my kid? Shit, I’d need more than blog accountability – I’d need an intervention from child protective services. And a nutritionist).
And naturally I can’t end a post without a picture (or ten) of my offspring. Yeah, I’ve become THAT mom.
My husband calls this SuperBaby. That's his cape.
Morning after a long night. In my robe that I almost never take off. It's covered in spit-up but I don't care. Yeah, I've reached that point in new motherhood where I just don't give a shit anymore. Unless there is literally diareha on it (mine or his), I'll wear it as long as it's conducive to warmth and breastfeeding.
Daddy time.
I can’t escape it.
It’s on blogs. It’s on status updates. It’s all around.
Mostly, I’ve seen it in regards to people’s New Year’s resolutions or the start of many a-training season and race goals. People coming clean about weight/eating issues, people calling themselves out when they half-ass workouts.
So as I embark on my own personal goals post-pregnancy, I have decided to hold my own self accountable - come clean about my own shortcomings or shame-based behaviors.
First, in regards to my fitness. I mentioned that I signed up for a half-marathon in May. Early May. So that means I need to be flushing all my excuses down the shame-toilet and hitting the gym daily. Right now, this does not happen. Why? Because after multiple all-night feedings, my mornings usually consist of handing the offspring to my husband, and either:
A) Going back to bed for a few extra hours or
B) Sitting on the couch, inhaling hot coffee, and staring blankly into the television (which sadly is usually on Kelly Ripa because I am too damn tired to change it after the early morning news ended prior to it) while I wait for said offspring to wake from his all-too-brief nap looking for his milkies.
The day then unfolds with a series of feedings, diaper changes, and quality time. The next thing I know, it’s 10pm, and I’ve managed to make excuses all day to avoid the gym.
I made it to the gym three times last week, and even got in a 3-mile run Sunday (which I then paid for with excrutiating muscle soreness for the next two days, courtosy of my 3-month hiatus from anything more physical than climbing the stairs to my 2-floor apartment, and that didn’t even happen everday. Shit, when I see it on paper, it hits me how lazy I got in those final months, bedrest or not.)
So I went back twice this week, and got in a 60-minute workout both times, which included 30 minutes on the elliptical and a 2-mile run with a warm-up and cool down. And it sucked the whole time. Both times.
No, seriously. Like, I finally felt a warm kinship to the contestants on the Biggest Loser during their first few weeks. Quite a change from where I was 10 months ago, when you would have found me sitting on my couch, calling them cry babies, and screaming at them for not respecting their amazing opportunity.
But I’ll go back. Again. And again. And then at some point, it won’t actually suck. As much.
So accountability goal #1 – post every workout, which includes doing something physical everyday – even if it means walking around the dang block. This way, I am forced to actually leave the house, move my body, and continue getting my fitness back so that I can actually tolerate myself. Oh, and also finish the race.
Next up – weight. Now, while I can’t actually bring myself to post the number of my current – ahem – situation, I will post the amount needed to lose, and the amount lost. So, at my doctor’s appointment Monday, I weighed in at a heafty…number. The number was 27 pounds over my normal weight (3 down from the initial 30, so some early progress?) So once a week, I will check in with my progress and post the amount lost that week – kind of like a poor man’s version of a Weight Watchers meeting. But without Jennifer Hudson singing empowering songs in the background as my own personal soundtrack.
And in order to do this, I will need to post more – even it’s just a numbers update, sans (questionably) witty commentary. Once daily - a workout post. Once weekly - a weight update.
Now that I’ve put that out there, I need to follow through. And this will be hard because I go back to work in a week, so I'll be fullt-ime mom and full-time psychologist again. But I want to do this for at least the next month, because I figure that will be enough time to actually get me back on track to the point I actually like being healthy again. Because right now, the only thing I really like is laying on the couch, streaming movies from Netflix, eating cheese puffs and cake frosting from a plastic jar while hanging with my kid and making funny faces to get him to smile (though not necessarily in that order – but wouldn’t it be shameful if I liked cheese puffs and cake frosting more than my kid? Shit, I’d need more than blog accountability – I’d need an intervention from child protective services. And a nutritionist).
And naturally I can’t end a post without a picture (or ten) of my offspring. Yeah, I’ve become THAT mom.
My husband calls this SuperBaby. That's his cape.
Morning after a long night. In my robe that I almost never take off. It's covered in spit-up but I don't care. Yeah, I've reached that point in new motherhood where I just don't give a shit anymore. Unless there is literally diareha on it (mine or his), I'll wear it as long as it's conducive to warmth and breastfeeding. 
Daddy time.And now, here's the picture I promised in the last post. The first is my son at about three weeks.
And this is me at about six months.
So now that we've clearly confirmed who the mother is, I'll get back to you when we find the dad.
And this is me at about six months.
So now that we've clearly confirmed who the mother is, I'll get back to you when we find the dad.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
So That's Where They Put the Gym!
Wanted to first say that I appreciate all the well wishes and comments on the previous post. I usually try to respond to all email notifications of the comments, but for some reason when I hit reply lately, it just gives me that generic “no-reply blogger” email address. It only lets me respond to a handful of people, so I apologize if I can’t get to your email. But I really appreciate them.
To that end, there are a couple of things that I wanted to respond to from the comments:
1. In regards to breastfeeding – I too have come to walk around the house in my nursing bra and/or nothing at all – heck, it’s my house, and the nips need a breather, you know? Many a day you might see me lounging on the couch, dark circles under my eyes, baby passed out with the milk-drunks next to me, and a shirt nowhere to be found. Some days, especially the ones when he feeds every hour, it’s simply not worth the effort to keep putting it on and off. The only time this didn’t work was when my in-laws were in town for a week for Christmas. After all, we may be close, but we are not THAT close. The last thing any of us need is for my father-in-law to be making a midnight potty-run and see my big old milkers hanging out in the living room, baby on one end and half-asleep mama on the other.
2. You haven’t lived until you’ve literally sucked the snot out of your child’s nose. With your own mouth, yo.
3. I mentioned this in the previous post, but it’s worth reiterating – doody does fly. And airborne doodys are (ahem) messy. And stain.
4. Been living in my sweats for a while (post-pregnancy gift from my friend A, from Victoria’s Secret, size Large, and oh-so-comfortable). My husband thinks I’ve become one of those women who have just given up. Not true, I say. “Giving up” happens the day I ask for a minivan.
But the wonders of motherhood aside, I’d also like to proudly announce that I did make it to the gym – four weeks and one day since my stomach was cut open and my world changed with my new little man (although coupled with the previous few months of bedrest and inactivity, it’s felt like a year since I broke a sweat not related to my intake of French fries, pie or hot wings). I didn’t get medical clearance yet, but I was getting sick of sitting around complaining about how jiggly and heavy and I was, and needed to do something about it.
Also at the gym, I had the displeasure of stepping on a scale since a week before delivery. The way I figured it, I had gained somewhere around 45 pounds during pregnancy, and estimated that I had about 20 pounds of residual baby weight to lose. Turns out that it’s, uh, slightly more than 20 pounds. I mean, 20 pounds was bad enough, and I felt mentally prepared to deal with the scale’s reality, but nothing prepared me for the number that I actually saw.
So here goes my admission. My ground zero. My starting block. The largest weight hurdle I have ever had to overcome.
I am 30 pounds over my pre-pregnancy weight.
To.The.Pound.
And yes, that’s with the baby OUTSIDE my body.
Granted, some of that might have to do with my cartoonishly large bosoms, but seriously – the rest of it is in my belly, ass, and thighs.
Possibly a few pounds in my neck and double chins.
Maybe a few in my elephant-ears upper arms.
Ugh. I’m gross. Just GROSS. I want to barf Pop Tarts just thinking about this mess I call my body.
But instead of crying (I save that for the 3am feedings), I sucked it up, mounted the elliptical, and pressed Start. I made it through 25 minutes, and oddly considered that a victory.
And then after that, I got on the treadmill. Can’t run just yet, but I jacked the incline and walked as long as I could before I could no longer tolerate the moldy stink coming from the man next to me. Which was 20 minutes.
And then I hit some quick weights.
And then my boobs were going to explode and I knew there was a one-month old about a mile away wondering where his lunch was, so I called it a day and headed home.
Overall, I feel good that I did it. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. And considering I was ready to make yet another excuse this morning to NOT go, I consider it a win (and I had a REAL good one to skip yet again, be it that the previous night was our most challenging yet, with Baby D having a cold, difficulty breathing, and thus difficulty feeding. Cue a major crying episode – both mama and child – and 5am was a bit of shit show at our house.)
(Side note: I know I am making motherhood sound awful, but the truth is, minus a couple of rough moments, our kid is great. I need to give the little chubby pork chop some credit – he’s in this crazy unfamiliar, loud, and bright world filled with all sorts of confusion, and yet he seems to handle it like a champ. He’s gaining weight, getting long and even gives us a smile here and there. But who wants to hear about all the awesomeness when there are dirty diapers, erratic sleep, crying jags and gassy infants to wail about, right? Right.)
As for the fitness, I don’t have much time to be making any more excuses anyways – I registered for the Wisconsin half-marathon – to continue my streak of running that race every year – and it’s a mere five months away. I don’t anticipate a PR (which I had two years ago there), but I know I can finish if I get my training in order.
Plus, my ass needs a healthier goal than “how many times can you eat at Five Guys in six months time?” Shit, I PR'd that bitch back in pregnancy month 6.
And here' is what I have to show for that nutritional acheivement:
How I spent my New Years Eve.
First bath - success!
Tryin' to be all fancy and stuff. At least he knew to color-coordinate his outfit to with his soothie. He's smooth like that. And not at all like his hygeine-and-fashion-challenged mother.
Well, I think we know who he got his forehead from.
One month old in this picture. My son and his baby Buddha belly. This kid barely misses a meal, lemme tell ya.
Almost outgrown his bassinet in just four weeks. He'll be stepping it up to the crib soon!
To that end, there are a couple of things that I wanted to respond to from the comments:
1. In regards to breastfeeding – I too have come to walk around the house in my nursing bra and/or nothing at all – heck, it’s my house, and the nips need a breather, you know? Many a day you might see me lounging on the couch, dark circles under my eyes, baby passed out with the milk-drunks next to me, and a shirt nowhere to be found. Some days, especially the ones when he feeds every hour, it’s simply not worth the effort to keep putting it on and off. The only time this didn’t work was when my in-laws were in town for a week for Christmas. After all, we may be close, but we are not THAT close. The last thing any of us need is for my father-in-law to be making a midnight potty-run and see my big old milkers hanging out in the living room, baby on one end and half-asleep mama on the other.
2. You haven’t lived until you’ve literally sucked the snot out of your child’s nose. With your own mouth, yo.
3. I mentioned this in the previous post, but it’s worth reiterating – doody does fly. And airborne doodys are (ahem) messy. And stain.
4. Been living in my sweats for a while (post-pregnancy gift from my friend A, from Victoria’s Secret, size Large, and oh-so-comfortable). My husband thinks I’ve become one of those women who have just given up. Not true, I say. “Giving up” happens the day I ask for a minivan.
But the wonders of motherhood aside, I’d also like to proudly announce that I did make it to the gym – four weeks and one day since my stomach was cut open and my world changed with my new little man (although coupled with the previous few months of bedrest and inactivity, it’s felt like a year since I broke a sweat not related to my intake of French fries, pie or hot wings). I didn’t get medical clearance yet, but I was getting sick of sitting around complaining about how jiggly and heavy and I was, and needed to do something about it.
Also at the gym, I had the displeasure of stepping on a scale since a week before delivery. The way I figured it, I had gained somewhere around 45 pounds during pregnancy, and estimated that I had about 20 pounds of residual baby weight to lose. Turns out that it’s, uh, slightly more than 20 pounds. I mean, 20 pounds was bad enough, and I felt mentally prepared to deal with the scale’s reality, but nothing prepared me for the number that I actually saw.
So here goes my admission. My ground zero. My starting block. The largest weight hurdle I have ever had to overcome.
I am 30 pounds over my pre-pregnancy weight.
To.The.Pound.
And yes, that’s with the baby OUTSIDE my body.
Granted, some of that might have to do with my cartoonishly large bosoms, but seriously – the rest of it is in my belly, ass, and thighs.
Possibly a few pounds in my neck and double chins.
Maybe a few in my elephant-ears upper arms.
Ugh. I’m gross. Just GROSS. I want to barf Pop Tarts just thinking about this mess I call my body.
But instead of crying (I save that for the 3am feedings), I sucked it up, mounted the elliptical, and pressed Start. I made it through 25 minutes, and oddly considered that a victory.
And then after that, I got on the treadmill. Can’t run just yet, but I jacked the incline and walked as long as I could before I could no longer tolerate the moldy stink coming from the man next to me. Which was 20 minutes.
And then I hit some quick weights.
And then my boobs were going to explode and I knew there was a one-month old about a mile away wondering where his lunch was, so I called it a day and headed home.
Overall, I feel good that I did it. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. And considering I was ready to make yet another excuse this morning to NOT go, I consider it a win (and I had a REAL good one to skip yet again, be it that the previous night was our most challenging yet, with Baby D having a cold, difficulty breathing, and thus difficulty feeding. Cue a major crying episode – both mama and child – and 5am was a bit of shit show at our house.)
(Side note: I know I am making motherhood sound awful, but the truth is, minus a couple of rough moments, our kid is great. I need to give the little chubby pork chop some credit – he’s in this crazy unfamiliar, loud, and bright world filled with all sorts of confusion, and yet he seems to handle it like a champ. He’s gaining weight, getting long and even gives us a smile here and there. But who wants to hear about all the awesomeness when there are dirty diapers, erratic sleep, crying jags and gassy infants to wail about, right? Right.)
As for the fitness, I don’t have much time to be making any more excuses anyways – I registered for the Wisconsin half-marathon – to continue my streak of running that race every year – and it’s a mere five months away. I don’t anticipate a PR (which I had two years ago there), but I know I can finish if I get my training in order.
Plus, my ass needs a healthier goal than “how many times can you eat at Five Guys in six months time?” Shit, I PR'd that bitch back in pregnancy month 6.
And here' is what I have to show for that nutritional acheivement:
How I spent my New Years Eve.
First bath - success!
Tryin' to be all fancy and stuff. At least he knew to color-coordinate his outfit to with his soothie. He's smooth like that. And not at all like his hygeine-and-fashion-challenged mother.
Well, I think we know who he got his forehead from.
One month old in this picture. My son and his baby Buddha belly. This kid barely misses a meal, lemme tell ya.
Almost outgrown his bassinet in just four weeks. He'll be stepping it up to the crib soon!
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