Uh, maybe I can do this?

I just looked at race times from 2003 before I got a lot fatter and slower. And then I looked at race times from LAST year--both for a half marathon I did and a full marathon I attempted (before pulling up from heat exhaustion).

Turns out, if I use a "marathon time predictor" it has me coming in at 6:37 for the full (7 minutes after course closing) after using data for both races.

I think I'm in better shape this year (I'm for sure in less pain). So maybe I need to quit with the confidence crisis.

Of course I can do this!

Did ten miles yesterday

Actually 8, biked for 30 minutes for a cardio equivalent of ten. I was supposed to do sixteen but my Achilles were screaming and it was getting to be late morning and I felt guilty being away from the kids.

I'm supposed to be on for 12 this weekend (18 next--uh oh!). I'm 48 days away from the marathon. I'm still fat--heavier than I was at marathon start last year. I'm going to struggle. I'm not really running. I'm struggling to stay at a 15 mph pace for three miles.

I forgot my iPod so I had a lot of time to think. I thought about pulling up, going back on Medifast, and finding a race once my tendinitis resolves. But then I think about all the people supporting my fundraising efforts and all the people affected by cancer. And I think I should be stronger.

I am aware I'm beating myself up. We'll just see how the next few weeks go. I'm going to keep on with training until my body tells me to stop (or until my body screams at me to stop).

Playing to my vanity/getting honest

So I dug out pictures of me from 5 - 13 years ago, when I was thinner. They serve as a reminder that being thinner IS possible for me. I've been there. I need to stop thinking about myself as a troll, a lumbering beast, a monstrosity. I can do this again. Sure, it's vain. I'm slightly embarrassed that my health, setting a good example for my children, and feeling better don't seem to have done the trick to make me have that mental shift. However, seeing pictures of current self in beach wear and seeing the previous incarnation of the thinner me might just be what I needed. Silly, but I'll take it and run with it any way.

I'm almost at my highest weight again (courtesy of my uncontrolled eating last week). But it's ok. I am at where I am at. I'm done beating myself up, dammit!

I started journaling food again in Fitday. I'm at 1200 calories today and still have to four miles and dinner in (because I don't do well being hungry and I sorta binged on low fat yogurt ice cream over lunch--which will probably end up making me shaky if I don't eat dinner).

I can't be in denial if I journal my consumption. It's there in black and white. Even I, the mistress of denial, cannot refute it.

Running with time

I read the following quote in the book In the Company of the Courtesan: "Time is short, and you must run with it rather than against it."

It speaks to me on several levels.

• I can't go back to who/how I used to be. I'm romanticizing the past and I need to focus on the future
• I shouldn't put off the marathon just because I'm not ready. Who knows what will happen over the coming year. I'll just have to do my best if my body will tolerate the miles

I need to try to make it to the marathon thinner and healthier than I am now. I got a bit discouraged in SC--my tendons were killing me and the lower altitude really didn't help that much with my breathing/heart rate. So, the sad reality is I'm less fit than I thought have miles to go before I'm ready. Which reminds me of another favorite quote of mine: "A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step."

Today I focus on getting in my water, restricting my Diet Coke intake, and journaling every bite. Tomorrow I plan my meals and shop for healthy food. It's time.

A little persective never hurt

I've been in Myrtle Beach with my family--and I mean my husband, my kids, his sister, her husband, their kids, his mom, his dad, his aunt, his uncle, their kids, and their friend. Historically these vacations have been a free for all food wise. We consume copious amounts of Oreos, chips, and other food while sitting under the umbrella resting and refueling from swimming, boogie boarding, sand sculpting, shell hunting, etc. Then at night we repeat the mass consumption--often finishing off with Hagen Daz and pie.

This year I gave some thought about going about things differently but failed to plan. So, I fell back into the typical routine. Mid-way through the trip I felt myself (particularly my hips and belly) growing. I swear, it became harder to flip over in bed at night because of the extra girth. I decided I felt much better with my fruits and veggies and started to crave them. So I started to tailor my behavior and sometimes reached for the right foods. I got about sixteen miles under my belt over the ten days (over four outings). Not great--but better than last year.

I started to think about whether or not I should bail on the Chicago Marathon. My ankles/tendons screamed for mercy. My miles were difficult (drinking and binging on food tends to make me a slow, lumbering beast). A few things happened that made me decide to soldier through. Most were insignificant:

• I saw how I really looked in photos taken this trip. I didn't say "oh, it's just the angle." I didn't delete them. I decided they are a historical of record of what I looked like at a certain day and time. And omg, they are AWFUL. Maybe I'll post some later. I'm definitely heavier than last year this time.
  
• I saw a few photos from thirteen years ago when I first started going on these yearly beach outings. I was *thin* and I distinctly recall thinking then that I should be thinner. I was envious of what I saw--I would be over the moon to look that way again. I had awesome, cut arms, well-muscled legs, and a happy, relaxed expression on my face. I realize it's thirteen years, one strained marriage, and two kids later. But still, I am so far removed from that girl, if you put the younger, thinner version of me next to the present me, you wouldn't be able to recognize that they are the same person.
  
• My brother-in-law (who is SO now on my shit list) made a crack about "Look, there's another beached whale" when I rode a wave in on a float and breached myself on the beach at my daughter's feet. Granted, there was a inflatable whale just down from me, but the guy clearly had no sense of survival. He did crack his shin on the trailer hitch of the pickup when we were packing up--Karma's one great bitch--and I love her for it.

A few "heavier" things happened:

• My Father-in-Law made a comment that he was not feeling so well--I *think* implying that he may be pretty sick. It makes me worry for him and for the time my kids have left with him.
• A friend (and former neighbor) lost his battle for survival. He became paralyzed several years ago and recently became sick with pneumonia and a lung infection. The doctors kept telling the family he would pass within the next few hours and he would rally for days much to their amazement. He went into hospice, then to a nursing home. He passed within a few days of his latest move. I am so sad for the loss and for his family.

All these things made me realize I need to keep training despite how I feel. I can do this and NEED to do this. Life is for the living...and to finish the marathon would mean so much to me (even if I am one of the few lumbering beasts on the course).