Water on Stonecrop

Soap as Saviour?

Sometimes, a girl has to indulge. Today was such a day. I had to run an errand at lunch. I was hungry on my walk back to the office. Rumbly-tummy hungry.

This is the kind of hungry that makes me want to stop at the drive thru and order a double-quarter pounder with cheese and bacon with fries and a shake, and then eat it all before I get home.

Not kidding.

That was before. This is now. The craving is still there, but I have to say no.

H-e-llllllll NO!

As I was walking, I knew if I did not steel myself to the onslaught of smells (OMG Beavertails stand, are you kidding me?) I would break down and go get something I should not. I had to be strong, but it was very, very hard. I could almost feel the sweet, sweet rush of carbs loading into my system. I could practically taste the yummy goodness.

I rushed forward and dove into the LUSH store to relieve myself of the sugary fried food aromas before I dropped gibbering to the street in front of a bunch of tourists, or pried a Kilaloe Sunrise out of someone’s hands and ran screaming “I have you now, my precious!”.

Yeah… That kind of hungry.

Can’t you just smell the clean?

As I breathed in that famous cloying soap smell, I remembered that I really liked a sample of some soap I got from here. I had brought the soap home for hubby to try, since I like using shower gel. But then I got curious and tried it for myself one day.

That soap rocked the house, man. I really liked it. I was all clean and minty and refreshed. If I was made of rubber, I woulda squeaked as I walked.

Wait, I sometimes do that anyways… Never mind.

I’m not sure we have any of that sample left, so I decided I would splurge and get some more. The best part about LUSH is that you can get as much, or as little, as you want. Yay! It was like buying cheese, but not edible, and less smelly (in some cases)

It was my little reward for passing by the yummy food, and saying no to the bad-for-me calories. Even though I didn’t need it, it immediately made me remember my goals, since I bought it to refresh me after a workout.

Which is the opposite of a burger and fries in my world right now. So I win. This time.

Take that, craving! HAH!

Wanting to be Wild

This is also Not a Cupcake

Strawberry cupcake anyone?

Ok so this IS a cupcake, but not the kind that go straight to my hips and arse. Heh.

I used to hate wearing these ear buds, but I changed out the wee itty rubber bit that goes in my ear* for a smaller set, and tried them out today. They worked very well! These let in more ambient noise than my regular running earbuds, so I want to use them when I am running on streets, y’know, for safety and stuff.

I would love to have a set (like this) with a volume and track skip on the wire like my spiffy black ones, but hey, sometimes to be fashionable you have to suffer, right?

Oooh, that reminds me. I saw some blingy swarovski-crusted ones in a store recently. Maybe for Christmas, dearest hubby of mine? *bats eyelashes*

These cupcake earbuds aren’t anything special, you can likely get them anywhere. I saw them one day in Chapters. There were wee yellow duckies, some adorable skulls (of course), and I think some run-of-the-mill teddy bears. But these ones, well, they spoke to me. They said “Sabby! take me home! You want to listen to Rage, Rob Zombie, and Disturbed through these pretty-in-pink frosted tips!!”

Or something like that…

Anyways… They were cheap, less than $20, and have survived for over two years without dieing on me.

This is a miracle, considering how easily I can trash a pair of earbuds. Seriously, y’all, its also like sunglasses. I never buy them expensive, because I break them. But these have lasted, so perhaps the curse is broken. Except that I sat on my sungalsses this morning…

Oh well. Its all good, because I went running with cupcakes in my ears today. Awesome.

*Yes, that is my ear. I think the camera adds ten pounds to ears too. *pinches earlobe* they certainly don’t feel that fat…

Purple

These flowers are the show-offs in a Spring garden. If they could, they’d play basketball.

My Tired Tookus and the Zombies

Last week, I did not run.

I wanted to, I really, really did. A sick baby meant I was up all hours of the night, dragging my tookus ten feet behind me because of the lack of sleep. Work deadlines meant I was dragging that tookus into a chair and not leaving, hammering away at my technical diddley, even through lunch.

I considered going out in the evening, but by the time we did dinner, spent time playing with the kids, bed time routine, and house chores, my tookus was way too tired to even contemplate squeezing into spandex to go out and run in the twilight (my most hated time of day to exercise), and instead wanted to sit and play Plants vs Zombies on my iPad.

I really dislike those pogo zombies, ya know? And the ones with zambonis and bobsleds…

Anyways, I guess you could say a perfect storm of conflictsexcuses resulted in a zero gain on mileage. If this keeps up I’ll be walking that 5k in September, not jogging.

I need someone to tell me that this is normal. That working moms struggle with fitting their exercise time in as much as I am right now. That no motivation to get up at 5:30 A.M. to run, after 2 hours of sleep is ok, and not making me a horrible person. That working through my lunch isn’t a cop-out when I’m super busy, and not wanting to run in the dark at night isn’t being a pansy.

That stress relief (when my tookus has had enough and needs to plop in yon comfy living room chair) in the form of squishing zombies with menacing squash does not make me weird.

Yeah…

Ok so maybe a little weird. I really like blowing them up with potato bombs…

The jist is this. I have to be more active. The Diabetes Beast has caught me. I must lose weight and become fit to prevent my Diabetes from being a thing I live with. I want it to be a thing I beat into submission using my defined bicep and a running shoe, to be triumphant in my well-toned glory.

Take that blood sugars! Take that pancreas! HAH!

But, when two young children, a husband, a disaster areahome, and a full-time career are all bleating for my full attention, what gives?

My time, that’s what. It is frustrating as #@%*, and I need advice on how to get past it.

A Date with a Mountain

On the holiday Monday, I had a date with my husband.

Instead of a movie where we shared popcorn and a drink the size of a small bathtub, or sitting in a restaurant trying to find a menu item that I could actually eat without going into a Diabetic sugar high coma, we decided to do something different.

We drove to a mountain. Then we climbed it.

We are romantic like that.

We are lucky enough to live near Gatineau Park, so we took the time to drive out to Luskville Falls and climb the waterfall trail. Its a popular picnic spot, and the lookout halfway up is gorgeous. I recommend it if you want a challenging work out, and a reward that is second to none when you get to the top.

Wear long pants, and ankle support. Bring a walking stick to help yourself up the big steps if you are wee like me. Bring water, don’t drink the water from the waterfall. We watched people doing this, and I could just imagine the sick that would take place in their life on Tuesday.

Helloooo, protozoa. Heh.

As we ascended, my tiny stature meant that each step on the rocky climb was a bit (read: *#@%) more work than that of my husband. Hopping from rock to rock was sometimes a huge step up for me, and I was regretting not bringing a walking stick. I was literally scrambling with my hands and feet at some points, whereas my long-legged significant other was stepping normally up the natural stone steps. By the time we got to the first lookout, I was sweating and red-faced and people were looking at me funny.

Never mind the fat girl wheezing over here folks, enjoy the view that way!

At one point, I just felt embarrassed and fat, and stood to the side so all the skinny girls in capris and flip-flops could bound past me. At other points, I felt strong and empowered and climbed doggedly on. My legs were feeling the burn and it was really great to know I was working some muscles that don’t get as much attention when I jog.

I had been to this particular trail a few years earlier, when I was in actual shape, and could bound up the rocky trail with the enthusiasm of a 20-something. The gentleman I had gone with was of equal fitness, and we had a great time being monkeys on the steep incline.

That was a long time ago. That was before two-kids and 70 pounds of weight that mysteriously found its way to my tummy, hips, and ass.

It was a lot longer than I remember it. It was a lot steeper than I remember it. It was a $@#* tonne harder than I remember it. Those damned rose-coloured glasses made me remember a lovely hike followed by a rest by the waterfall to contemplate the scenery.

I think I may throw those glasses out.

But, the positive to come out of this was a great work out with my hubby that did not involve him once complaining that I was too slow. It was a lot of fun to introduce him the beauty of this natural waterfall, and I was encouraged by his enthusiasm to do more hikes like this as dates.

I agree. I can’t wait for the next one!

Once I can stand without wincing.

Flowing

Oakily-Dokily

A Trail of Broken Hearts

I am feeling Dicentra-cal today.

Caging the Self Critic Beast

When I first started running, one minute of successive jogging was all that I could handle during a workout. It was insane how hard it was! The huffing, and the puffing, and the red faces were likely the most hilarious thing people on the street that I passed witnessed all day. Frumpy, fat girl running! Look out!

I kept going though, and then the nerves hit.

I was so nervous to move on to the next Couch to 5km “week” that eventually I gave up trying to use the program and just went with my own intervals, set up on my Runkeeper app. Bringing the exertion level control back to me was a epiphany. I had much less nerves before my runs once I did that. Cto5k wasn’t bad, in fact was great! Just not for me. I want to be my own master of pain and torturey (Is that a word?). With my visualization, and focusing on the feeling, I was now looking forward to runs, instead of trying to calm the shakey hands and drowning out Worried Self with loud music.

Today, I finally did a two minute jog segment walk/jog.

I did not die.

I am progressing very slowly in this jogging thing, and today was a wicked confidence boost. Having calmed the Nerves Beast, I am now dealing with the You aren’t doing good enough” Self Critic Beast”, and perhaps this helped a little in getting rid of the hairy, stinky thing (the beast, not my husband, I love him and want him to stick around. He’s useful.) or at least making it harder to defeat my will to get better.

This beast is ugly, and bigger than the last one. This one can actually make me cry. Yeah… Crying and running is so not elegant nor recommended.

It all started a couple of weeks ago after one of my hubs and my “date runs”. I am slow (read: short stubby legs), and my husband complained that every time we run together that his legs hurt after because he has to go so slow to pace me. This devastated me. I felt horrible for holding him back, and I don’t want to run with him anymore, because its obvious I am not doing well enough to keep up to him anymore. (read: he is already doing further faster distances than me with this running thing. Just once I want to be better at something than him! Yeesh…)

Self Critic Beast jumped for joy at my sulking and said “See? Why bother? You aren’t getting anywhere, you haven’t lost much weight (Hubby has lost 15 pounds, argh) and you see no improvement to your health! Your husband is going to get fit and you will still be fat and ugly.”

I was low, low, low. Pair this with a new health reality of Diabetes, and it was all I could do to function normally and put on a brave face for all the folks who were giving me Diabetes advice and support in the week following.

Diabetes sucks, y’all. Just sayin’…

Today, I am a bit more proud of my progress, and glad I have kept at it. I have to go slow, I know this, and sometimes I get frustrated that I am not already jogging further/faster than I am after a month and a half. My knees, hips and shins however, are just fine with my fitness plan. It is important to progress at a pace that is both physically and mentally comfortable. I know this. I rode horses for 20 some-odd years and never once did I push past what I knew I could comfortably do, without becoming complacent in my routines. Push, strive for new achievements and levels of excellence, but at my own pace.

So Self Critic Beast is hanging on, and he’s poking me with his big stupid stick. I need to find a cage for him, but it too, is slow.

 

 

Support

Some days you just need something to lean on.

Reaching

Worm’s eye view on Nepean Point.

Inspiration

A Case For More Than Basic Black

<rant>

You know, I have a beef to pick with the Diabetes paraphernalia manufacturers. Specifically, those wonderful companies that make yon trusty glucose meter.

A very useful tool, indeed, I know, since I use one every day. It goes with me everywhere, because it has to. It slips into my pack for work, and into my nightstand at night.

(Public service announcement: Hey folks, don’t keep yer meter in the bathroom! Humidity can be harmful to the itty bitty electronics and you won’t get accurate readings.)

But, there is one thing about my meter that is decidedly uninspiring. No, its not the pokey thing that makes me cringe each time I torture prick my finger to test.

It’s the case. They’re always UGLY!

Why oh why do you, Accu-Ultra-Chek-OneTouch Meter Co. have to make cases in basic, boring black, with no design flourish, no panache except a really loud zipper (Seriously, it sounds like I’m unzipping pants over here) and perhaps a bas relief logo? I mean come on! I’m secretly a girly girl (shhh!) and I want pretty patterns, flowers, or even just a different colour than black. Would it hurt to have blue, maybe a nice green?

In this case (pun!), it is NOT like a little black dress hiding all your wee bumps and lumps. That neoprene block that I put the meter in? Yeah, it kind of stands out amongst my floral motif purse and red lunch bag. Everyone who sees it is like “What’s that?” and then I have to tell them. If it was a purple paisley print, no one would ask. They’d assume it was for tampons or makeup.

What? A girl can’t say “tampon” in her blog? Tam-pon… Heh.

So now I am on the hunt. I have these pretty bags at home to keep my extra supplies for my meter, ironically decorated with bumblebees and hives with the words honey on the side. I want to find a nicer case for my meter. Something with some pink, maybe even some flowers.

Cuz honey, if I gotta carry it everywhere, its gotta look like something I would carry everywhere.

</rant>

Wordless Wednesday

Rainbow Socks for Skinny Feet

Of all the weird shrinky things going on in my body as I journey towards fit-dom, the weirdest is that my shoes are now too big.

Yes, my shoes.

Apparently my feet were fat.

This means I must be resized for running shoes when mine give up the ghost. I am in 9’s right now (I am a midget with snowshoes for feet, yes, I know), and the heel is a little loose. I compensate with a new lacing pattern that the cool people at Running Room showed me, but I also have to wear really ugly man-socks when I run to prevent the agony of a blister.

I want rainbow socks with a wee pom-pom on the back. Those are totally awesome. And girly. But mostly awesome. Where does one procure rainbow pom-pom socks? (Hint: These would be a lovely Mother’s Day gift). I remember as a kid I had rainbow toe socks. I wore them until they fell apart. Those would be fun too. Would they suck to run in though?

Maybe I’ll have to hunt down a pair and try.

I suppose it is normal for feet to lose inches along with the rest of the body when you start to fit up, but I’ve never had such a phenomenon happen before, unless you count my feet impersonating balloons after I had my babies.

That was fun… Not.

Maybe, if my feet lose enough weight, they will be able to slip into a pair of sexy black field boots, and confidently step into stirrups when I get back on a horse! Or perhaps even some slinky black flats. That would be lovely. The possibilities are endless!

The only problem with my feet’s new size? I need a pedicure. Pronto.

Wordless Wednesday

It’s almost time!

Inspiration in Shiny Shoes

Dear Random Runner,

Today I was walking towards Parliament Hill to attend the first Yoga on the Hill session of the summer. I was feeling down on myself for still not seeing much weight loss, and not running since Saturday.

In my navel-gazing, I nearly didn’t see you, but then you ran past me, and your bright gold and green shiny running shoes poked through my pity party fog.

You weren’t wafer-thin. You weren’t whisping along feather-light and perfect, nary a drop of sweat beading on your forehead. You weren’t dressed head to foot in expensive spandex. You weren’t serenely stepping at an even pace, your muscles flowing as an example of mechanical greatness in its perfect, human form.

No, random runner, you were huffing, puffing, red-faced and jiggly, with earphone cords flapping. You were jogging along at a pace I could keep up with, and you were sweating.

In other words, you looked like I do when I run.

So thank you for being out there, doing it, and inspiring me to remember that I am doing it too, and that we will achieve. And, even though I haven’t ran a metre since the weekend and feel all stiff and tight and twitchy to go, I’m not derailing on this running thing yet.

So if I see you again, I’m going to give you a high-five. Be ready.

Signed,

Another Random Runner

PS: Your shoes are awesome.

Don’t Settle

Found via Swiss Miss this morning, and now I am all thinky. Swiss Miss

“Sometimes life hits you in the head with a brick. Don’t lose faith. I’m convinced that the only thing that kept me going was that I loved what I did. You’ve got to find what you love. And that is as true for your work as it is for your lovers. Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven’t found it yet, keep looking. Don’t settle. As with all matters of the heart, you’ll know when you find it. And, like any great relationship, it just gets better and better as the years roll on. So keep looking until you find it. Don’t settle.”

-Steve Jobs, 2005 Stanford Commencement Speech

I wish it was that easy.