the post where i get all serious

I don't remember a time when I wasn't on some sort of a diet. This probably has something to do with the fact that my mother put me on Weight Watchers in sixth grade.  Both of my parents would restrict me from eating or drinking certain things, but seeing my brothers with them would drive me insane. This led me to sneak food into my room, where I'd have late-night binges that would leave me feeling emotionally and physically ill the next day.  This has left me with a skewed relationship with food.  I used to harbor a lot of resentment towards my parents (especially my mother), but now I know that they were just doing what they thought was best. In their minds, if I was thin, the kids at school would stop teasing me mercilessly. They didn't, by the way. After I lost fifteen pounds they stopped teasing me about my body and moved on to other things, like my hair and my clothing. I've let go of a lot of the anger towards my parents, but my relationships with food and my body image are things that I struggle with on a daily basis.

My relationship with food remains.. complicated, to say the least. My weight fluctuatea depending on how diligent I am on my diet, which is usually some version of Weight Watchers. I gained a LOT of weight my first year of college (unless the freshman 17 is now standard). I came home for the summer and legitimately, nothing fit except for stretchy pants. I immediately went back on Weight Watchers because it was the only frame of reference I had for "being healthy". There was no in between for me - I was either eating until I was sick or dieting and cataloging every morsel that went into my mouth.

At my heaviest weight, 171 lbs

I spent most of my college years losing and gaining the same ten pounds. The summer before my senior year was tough - I had ACL reconstructive surgery followed by getting all four wisdom teeth out at the end of August. Oh, and let's not forget the case of mono that I had the March before. I came back for my senior year the thinnest I'd ever been. I looked and felt amazing. After my knee surgery I got thin - partially because of everything I'd been through, add in some physical therapy (three months of it) and a lot of muscle loss.

At my lightest weight, about 138 lbs

I was able to maintain that weight for a couple of years but once I graduated from college, I started to fluctuate again. It's also, coincidentally, when I started running and working out more regularly. I've learned over the years that I build muscle quickly, and it's always most noticeable in my legs (wonderful, right?). It's been six years since I graduated from college (ugh, really?) and I am still struggling to get even close to where I was, weight-wise. Right now I'm about 15 pounds heavier and I wish I could say that it doesn't bother me because I'm a marathoner and I had to deal with another knee surgery and all of that. But honestly? It kills me. I hate that regaining some of that weight back feels like one of my biggest failures. I can't stand that I let it overshadow my athletic accomplishments.

I've gained a lot of perspective regarding food since become more active, especially through running. I've learned that good food will make me feel better, and that eating junk will cause my stomach to revolt during a run. When I'm in a good mindset, food has a purpose. When I'm not, it's something I use to stop me from getting bored, or to comfort me when I'm upset. I am always jealous of people for whom a cookie is just a cookie. I wonder if I'll ever be able to live my life without mentally calculating how many calories I've consumed. And I question whether I can stop sabotaging myself, because working out five or six times a week doesn't matter if I'm constantly eating candy and cookies. I wish I knew how to let food just be food. I wish I could stop hating my body and embrace it because it allows me to run half marathons, and to climb 5.10's at the rock gym. Mostly, I wish I could just feel good enough.

Sorry to get all heavy on you. I'll try to return to my usual sarcasm and humor with the next post!

race report: hyannis half

For those of you who have been reading my blog for a while - you know that 2011 was a crazy year for me, running-wise. I started off the year with the Disney Marathon (my first!), the Hyannis half in February (my seventh!), and then Reach the Beach in May. This was all before an injury that sidelined me from running, and most activity, for almost four months. After finishing physical therapy (twice) I decided that my comeback race would be the Hyannis half. I had fun last year, the course was pleasant (despite the cold and snow), and I'd have many friends down there who were also running the race.

I signed up - hoping that the race would spark something in me and I'd get excited to run again. But, if we're being honest here, training was a struggle. Between indoor rock climbing, fighter fitness and general malaise - most weeks I was only able to get in a couple of runs. Although some weeks I did manage to squeeze in the three that were on my schedule. I did very little speed work and whenever asked about my time goal for the race, my response was always "survival".  I can't tell you how many times I reminded myself that the point of this was to just get back out there, to prove that I could still run a half marathon.

The weather last year was.. unpleasant. It was freezing and snowing for most of the race. This year it was warmer with no snow in the forecast. But it was REALLY windy. And it definitely impacted me when I was out on the course. Also, I think that the snow last year blinded me from noticing the hills. The hills sort of sucked. But with the nice weather I was able to truly appreciate the course - and it was definitely a pretty one. I guess the beauty was lost on my facial expression and body language because looking at my race photos they're all pretty much a variation of this:

y so angry?

I felt pretty damn good for most of the race. However, around mile 10 or so I started to feel like my heart rate monitor strap was too tight and it was preventing me from getting good, deep breaths. And then I realized nope, it wasn't my strap, I was having a (mild) asthma attack. Wonderful! My asthma is a fairly recent occurrence and I'd never had an issue DURING a run, only after I'd finished. As a result, I never carried my inhaler with me. Once I realized what was happening, I did start to panic a little bit, so I stepped off the course. I spent the next few minutes focusing on relaxing and regulating my breathing. When I stepped back on the race course I realized that the only way to finish the last 3.5 miles would be to stay calm. I don't remember a damn thing from the last miles of that race and I have never been so happy to cross a finish line. After posing for this picture:

dinosaur arms. it happens when you run a half marathon

I told my friends that I was having an attack and Juls shot off to find my inhaler. I felt so much better after the inhaler and some water and I looked down at my watch to see my time: 2:21:30. Not my best race by a long shot, but somehow, even in the midst of an asthma attack, I was able to run my second fastest half marathon. I'm still really, really slow, I totally get it. But I still feel like a total rockstar that I was able to keep myself together despite everything that was going on.

a small portion of the gang who was at the race

Oh, and for the record - half marathon #9 will be happening on March 25th. Is anyone running Eastern States (the half or the 20 miler?) - if so, let me know, I'd love to meet up!

Also, I've started using my inhaler 30 minutes before running and haven't had another attack since!

wordless wednesday

three things thursday

1. Run to the Border Half Marathon - I ran a half marathon this past weekend (#8! recap to come) and there's a lot of time between now and Reach the Beach (12 weeks!). I thought that another half marathon would help motivate me to keep up my mileage. I would have preferred an early/mid April race, but I couldn't find a course that was flat enough.

I've run two half marathons in consecutive weekends, back when I was training for the marathon. So, to have a month between races is new to me. It's going to be tricky to fit in a run this weekend - I have a friend staying with me on Friday, and then Saturday morning I'm going climbing and then heading straight for Northampton for a concert. I'll be back sometime on Sunday and exhausted, I'm sure. I'm going to try to fit in a 7-8 mile run at some point, 10 miles the week after, and then back down to 6-7 the weekend before the race. It's a flat, fast course, and I've already done the distance at Hyannis (and it was HILLY and windy), so I won't hike up my mileage too much.

2. As a member of the Boston LUNA Chix, I'm invited to attend the yearly summit with my team mates. We'll spend the first couple of days in Berkeley at Summit - participating in all sorts of fun activities like trail runs, hula hooping classes and morning yoga. Last year's trip was so much fun and what's even better is that we're staying a few extra days to spend some time in Sonoma and San Francisco! Maybe we can go to Bachelor Ben's vineyard. JUST KIDDING! I'd never drink that douchebag's wine - unless it were free. Because really, who can turn down free wine?

3. About a month ago, I received an email from my friend Lori asking if I'd like to tag along on a short trip to Puerto Rico at the end of May/early June. I've never been, despite my coworker thinking that I was Puerto Rican, and it's pretty hard to turn down an island getaway. And then she told me that the hotel was being paid for with points (ie I would only have to pay for airfare and spending money) and I said HELL YES. Well, actually I said "let me check with my boss", but when he approved of the time off I said HELL YES. I'm sure that it's going to be brutally hot, but who cares? It's a chance to spend some quality time with a friend and to lounge on a beach.

Speaking of the beach, I guess that means I'm going to be in a bikini. EGADS. There's going to be some major exercise and dieting going on before that happens.

What are you looking forward to in the upcoming months? Going on an awesome trip? Running a kick ass race? Tell me about it!

remember how i said i wouldn't drink tequila?

My birthday weekend was uh-may-zing. And I know this is delayed but I'm just now having the time and energy to sit down and write about it.

My parents got in on Saturday afternoon a mere minutes after I got back from my run. They gave me my birthday presents - which were awesome and so generous considering I'm (technically) a grown ass woman. But, I will never, ever say no to presents. We relaxed around my apartment for a while before heading down to the North End to eat some delicious Italian food. Of course I made them stand in line at Modern to get some pastries. I got marzipan and it was so good that I needed a moment of silence to mourn when they were all gone.

My parents stayed with me. In my studio apartment. I never thought the day would come when I was fighting with them over who would get to sleep on the air mattress. My dad won. Which really means my mother and I lost because she is the most restless sleeper ever and when she wasn't complaining about it being hot I was listening to my dad shift to and fro on the air mattress. I woke up at 7:30 in the morning and because of where the air mattress was I couldn't even leave to get coffee. I was literally trapped in my own apartment until I decided it was time for everyone to face the day. And then my mother made me flip the mattress. Yes, that happened.

I took them to my favorite breakfast joint and then we spent the rest of the afternoon shopping and walking around Harvard Square. I even took them to Upper Crust and you know what? My pizza snob parents from New York LOVED it. And then they made me sit on the Harvard Law School sign. I believe my mother may have said something along the lines of "pretend you were smart enough to go there!".

After they left I got dressed for my part I of my birthday celebration. We went to a dive bar - ate cupcakes, sang karaoke, did shots of tequila (I KNOW! First one was poured at 9:30. Kill me), and sang more karaoke. It was amazing. Apparently towards the end of the night my friend tried to order another round of tequila shots and the bartender asked if they were for me. She said yes and he pointed in my direction and said, "I don't think I should serve her anymore tonight". And lo and behold, I was resting my face on the bar, with a huge smile plastered across my face.  I was ill all day. I went to yoga at 5:30pm THE NEXT DAY and I was still feeling vomit-y. It was totally worth it.

Also, it's good to know that tequila does, in fact, still make me black out. But, I didn't cry, bite, or get angry at anyone. So maybe we can lift the ban? Not that I ever followed it anyway, but why not just make it official?

SCHWASTED.

That Tuesday (the 21st) was my actual birthday. I got a smaller group of my friends together for a pottery painting party. It was amazing. There was wine, more cupcakes, and tons of laughter. It was the perfect end to the perfct 28th birthday celebration.

multi-tasking

three of my favorites

a monkey for the monkey, and a coffee mug for the caffeine addict

 I came home that night feeling so overwhelmed with happiness and gratitude for all of the people who came together to make my birthday so memorable. It's going to sound incredibly lame, but I actually cried because I have such a wonderful family and amazing friends.  Thank you everyone for making my it so great.