Thursday, February 17, 2011

Blame It On the Rain (Yeah yeah)

Blame it on the rain that was falling, falling
Blame it on the stars that did shine at night
Whatever you do don't put the blame on you
Blame it on the rain yeah yeah....


So. My excuse for not working out came in the form of a song this evening. (Shout-out to Milli Vanilli, you guys may have lip-synced but I've got nothing but love for you.) And yes, it is raining here in Southern California. It is also Wednesday, which is supposed to be my official day off, but since I didn't work out on Friday either, ummm...let's just say Wednesday is the new Friday. (And Bitter is the New Black and Orange is the New Pink and Excuses are the New Opening Line.) On actual Friday, I skipped swimming because the pool closed early, which I would have known about if I'd checked online (which I didn't.) Always plan your workouts in advance, gentle readers, and be aware of things such as early pool closures. Or roadblocks. Or potholes. Or that Chipotle is on the way to the gym and you remember that today happens to be "50% off burritos" day, and suddenly the tapeworm in your belly awakens and demands burritos, which you have to eat to appease that growling monster, but now you're full and can't complete your workout. See? Awareness. It's what's for dinner.

Reza and I recently discovered that our gym membership includes free bowling at the 12-lane bowling center on the university campus, so instead of swimming like I was supposed to, I decided to dust off the old bowling shoes and show him what I was working with...


Needless to say...."What I was working with" was.....part-time, minimum wage, and not up for promotion anytime soon. I think my all-time high score in bowling hovers somewhere near 85? Anyway, I did not expect four strikes from him. Lesson learned: Do not challenge American-Persian-Canadians to a bowl-off, it will not end well. Chubby Bunny is NOT a bowler. Baller, yes. Bowler, no.

Saturday I was good and went for a long brisk walk, somewhere around the 3 mile mark. No running involved. It felt nice to be outside though.

Sunday Reza and I decided to celebrate Valentine's Day and go out to dinner, so I wanted to get a run out of the way early. I whipped out my trusty I-Phone and figured out the distance it would take to get me to a place I'd been eyeballing since moving into my new house: South Sun Beads, also known as the Jewelry Makers Shangri-La. It is a building the size of Costco, filled with aisle after aisle of beads, interesting stones, pearls, turquoise, etc...and an outside area where every time I drive by it appears they are having a sale! 75% off of everything I want and NOTHING I need. Oohhhh. So my thought process was this: South Sun Beads is 2.2 miles away from me, if I run there I can window shop while I catch my breath and then I can run back and feel wonderful about myself because 4.4 miles is a long way and gosh it will be so great. (And as a P.S if I run that far, when Reza and I go to dinner I can eat anything I want to and NOT feel guilty!)



Reality bitch slap: Who do I think I am kidding? Yes, the person writing this sentence is the same one who wrote that I almost vomited a week ago from running 1.2 miles. So, contrary to the marathon pace and confident stride I had envisioned for myself, I ran sloooooowly/walked all the way to South Sun Beads. It took about 40 minutes. But, I was feeling good, had an excellent Pandora (Internet radio I-phone FREE brilliant app) techno mix pounding in my ears, and really only walked for a little bit when I got a side-cramp and a cramp in my collar-bone. (Is this normal? I am not lying, I had a raging cramp in my right collar-bone. Owwwww.) I finally made it to South Sun Beads, and before you can dial the phone number to Hoarders Anonymous I had a basket full of jewelry making supplies. Yippee! Bracelets for everyone!!



Since I didn't have a backpack, I didn't know how to get myself and my new treasures home, soooo....I called Reza to see if he could come pick me up. (Truthfully, I was exhausted and could have cried at the thought of having to run home.) Since he is a very good boyfriend, Reza picked me up, and then just shook his head at me when I showed him my purchases and told him I was going to learn how to make jewelry. I even offered to make him a bracelet for being so sweet and picking me up, but for some strange reason he didn't seem too interested. Apparently I pick up a new (often short-lived) hobby about every two weeks. In my own defense, I DID finish the mosaic table I decided to make for him last summer. And it's pretty and he loves it. So there.

Our Valentine's celebration dinner was at this amazing Creole place in San Diego called Gulf Coast Grill, and it's faboosh.  Amongst other things, we had raw oysters and mojitos, mmm. When it came time to open cards he handed me a gift-wrapped box...yay a present!!! Is it pink? Is it blingy? Is it a puppy? No? Can I eat it? (Next best thing to a puppy is something edible, I suppose.) Guess what was inside?


Pink running shoes!!! Pink AND silver (can I call it platinum?), high-tech, gel soled, squishy, cute comfy running shoes. (Specifically for beginner runners with wide feet, Reza very sweetly pointed out.) Well, quack quack-- I was thrilled. I love when people buy you gifts because they are paying attention to your needs, and know your style. Pink shoes are pretty much the best gift ever. Happy Valentine's Day!

Tuesday night Reza and I swam a relaxing 1,000 yards, but I didn't feel like I pushed myself hard enough. I felt a head cold coming on, and wanted to get home and bundle up before I got sick. (Too late, felt like crap today.) The outdoor pool is really lovely at night, and because it's winter we pretty much had the whole pool to ourselves. Wish it would stay that way year round!!

Below is what my training schedule was supposed to be this week. I am going to try to salvage as much of it as I can for the remaining 3 days:


Sunday
Monday
Tuesday

Thursday
Friday
Saturday
Week Tot.

Run (med)
Swim (med)
Bike (long)
     
Run (long)
Swim (long)
Bike (med)

R: 0.80 miles
11m
S: 600 Yd
14m
B: 5.10 miles
19m

R: 0.90 miles
14m
S: 750 Yd
17m
B: 4.10 miles
15m
S: 1350 Yd
41m
B: 9.2 Mi
45m
R: 1.7 Mi
33m

After careful review, I’m not too badly positioned after all. In all honesty, I didn’t even read past Tuesday’s workouts until posting today, because I was worried I’d feel like I let myself down. But, at least the horses didn’t completely trample me after I fell off the wagon! Through Saturday I plan on doing at least one double-workout including both biking and running. That should put me back on track. I think. I hope. IT WILL DAMMIT!  Failure is not an option.

A classic motivational mental image for me while working out has always been Rocky Balboa. Everyone loves an underdog, right??  No matter how tired you are, or how shitty you feel during your workout, watching Rocky throw up those raw eggs after running miles and miles always makes me feel like I am going to be okay. (The fact that he is a character in a movie is irrelevant to me.) 

Yoooo Adrienne!!!!!


 Yours Till Next Time,

Chubby Bunny

Friday, February 11, 2011

Four Days In and NOT Feeling Like Flo Jo Yet...

It is 11:29 pm on a Thursday evening. Typically I will have been asleep for about 2 hours by this point but tonight I am awake because I just got back from the gym. See, earlier I almost pulled an "old me"--it's cold, I had a really stressful day at work, I was tired, my boyfriend Reza is really cute and I just wanted to stay home and be cozy on the couch with him. At about 8:45 I felt myself nodding off, without having gone to the gym yet today. No! Bad Chubby Bunny! So, I put on my sneakers and yoga pants (side note: yoga pants are very slimming, and every girl should own a pair... or 10. I feel like Sporty Spice when I wear them, so I do, constantly, even when I have no intention of exercising) and promised myself at 9:00 I would drive to the gym and get my run out of the way.



Even though I started writing this blog 2 days ago, I actually started training last Sunday....but gave myself a full 48 hours to back out. See? What a wuss I am!!! Now, 4 days in I realized I.Am.Committed....so I stuck to the program. And I live in sunny San Diego...how does anyone who has to brave an actual winter get their bums off the couch to the gym?!? (Shout-out to Jess in Ohio...somehow you do it, you brave girl.)

I signed up for a free membership on a website called Beginner Triathlete, which allows you to create customizable workout plans. It's easy, fun, and only mildly embarrassing when you have to print out a schedule filled with goal-times of 12 minutes miles. Flo Jo eat your heart out.

Here is my workout schedule for Week 1:

     
 

   
Sunday
Monday
Tuesday

Thursday
Friday
Saturday
Week Tot.

Run (med)
Swim (med)
Bike (long)

Run (long)
Swim (long)
Bike (med)

   Week# 1
   2011-02-06
   Base
R: 1.20 miles
18m
S: 950 Yd
23m
B: 8.10 miles
30m

R: 1.50 miles
23m
S: 1150 Yd
29m
B: 6.50 miles
24m
S: 2100 Yd
1h 08m
B: 14.6 Mi
1h 12m
R: 2.7 Mi
54m

So on Sunday, also known as Day 1, I mapped .6 miles from my house on my nifty I-phone, which happened to conveniently be exactly the distance to a liquor store in my neighborhood. I walk there all the time (to buy ummm....milk, and eggs, certainly not wine and definitely not delicious local micro-beer), and figured a quick jaunt down the road and back would be easy. I made it about .3 miles without stopping to walk. HOW DO PEOPLE RUN SO EASILY???? It hurts!!! And it's really hard. Somehow I got through my first training session of a 1.2 mile run, and it took me about 20 minutes. I made it home, bursting through the front door like a rabid moose, wheezing, coughing, out of breath, my face the color of a tomato, and headed straight for the bathroom. (Editor's note: if any of my gentle readers suffer from constipation, ditch the prunes and go for a run. It works like magic!)



Monday, Day 2...Swim Day. Yay!!! My workout schedule consisted of 950 yards. An average lap pool is 25 yards across, so that equates to 38 laps. One of the greatest perks about swimming is you can really stretch out your muscles, which I needed because my right calf was sore from my run. And yes, smart ass...you can be sore from a 1.2 mile run. Swimming is the 1/3 of this race that I might actually beat one another competitor at, so it's fairly important that I do push myself in my training. I decided to start with 30-seconds per lap, or 2 minute "100's." That seemed to be a fairly doable pace, which I managed to keep up. Probably burned about 400 calories--wahoo me-- soooo I went home and ate 4 Girl Scout Cookies, @ 70 calories per cookie. 70 x 4, munch munch munch = I should have swam longer. :(



Day 3: Bike Day!!!! 8.10 miles on a stationary bike....OR, 50 minutes of spin class.  Lazy me on Day 3 moved too slowly and missed spin class, so I rode extra hard in the "Random Hill" workout on the bike, varying between a Level 10-15. Ok ok ok....on the hills I was definitely at Level 10, occasionally an 8. Only once a Level 5...for like two minutes, so it doesn't count.

Something else I should mention that makes this training process even more painful than it needs to be: the gym I go to happens to be a college campus gym. So I wait in line patiently for the elliptical or the treadmill or the bike, while skinny, perfectly tanned sorority girls in designer gym outfits take their sweet time on the machines, jabbering away on their cell phones, burning away loads of calories they are surely not eating anyway. Harumph. (There is only room for one bunny at this gym, and Chubby Bunny has taken over. Hop along.)


Wednesday--Day off!!! Taco night! Yay!! Very fun and relaxing night with Reza and friends. Felt mildly guilty for stuffing my face with guacamole on a non-workout day....but not guilty enough to stop doing it. Haha. While clearing the dishes off the table, I danced over to the sink, 3 feet away....and yes, I am counting that as a workout.

Thursday--today: Day 4: Running. Again? UGH.  Waited too long. Not feeling it. Tired. Finally put on slimming yoga pants and forced myself out the door at 9:15 pm. Entered gym to see lots of college kids working out like it was 8 am. Ohhhh that's right--college kids don't sleep! Outta my way, sonny...Gramma needs to warm up on the bike. The nicest thing about the stationary bike is that you can plug your headset into your own personal TV while you work out and pretend you're at home being lazy. Brilliant! Oooh Lifetime Original Movie is on! Don't judge me, you know you watch them when you're home alone.


After a brisk 8 mile warm-up on the bike, I made my way over to the treadmill. My theory was that positioning myself next to a really strong runner would motivate me to keep up, but I quickly learned I just end up feeling even more pathetic and clumsy. The gazelle next to me never even broke a sweat, and after sneaking a peek at her mileage counter I could feel my previously enthusiastic face fall as I saw that she had run 5 miles already. What an over-achiever!!! I am forced to hate you on principle. Here is a photo of how far this overachiever went without stopping to walk:


 .71 miles running the whole time.  It only took me...10 minutes. The same amount of time it would take a Ugandian to run a marathon. Uggggh. Wheeze. Cough. For the record, the speed of 4.0 you see was when I slowed down to walk. My running speed was 5.5 and it felt really Speedy Gonzalez fast, until I realized that still equals about a 10.9 minute mile. I am no Flo Jo....Fo sho. I eeked my way through the remainder of my run, vacillating between wanting to pass out and wanting to vomit, and then trying to force myself to smile as I remembered that this torture was self-inflicted. Splotchy skin and greasy hair is hot huh???



Yeeesh. My heart rate was 180 at its highest, and I sucked in huge breaths of air while blasting music on my trusty I-pod. I kept waiting to feel a "runner's high" but after awhile called B.S on that whole thing...what does that mean anyway???? Let's Wiki for a minute:


"A publicized effect of endorphin production is the so-called "runner's high", which is said to occur when strenuous exercise takes a person over a threshold that activates endorphin production. Endorphins are released during long, continuous workouts, when the level of intensity is between moderate and high, and breathing is difficult."

Please believe this Chubby Bunny when she says that the statement above was written by a smug runner. A heartbeat of 180 is definitely considered "strenuous" and I may or may not have had the munchies after my workout, but that's about all I have that resembles any sort of  high. Boo.

Tonight's workout was made possible by the truly fabulous Sophie Ellis Bextor. "Murder on the Dancefloor" gets me shakin it every time....





 Till Next Time,

Your Chubby Bunny

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Words are just words until you get your ass out there and do something

My whole life I have been fairly athletic: swimming competitively from the time I was 3 years old all the way through high school, including 3 years on the varsity team. I was on the first female water polo team at my high school, and continued to play water polo for a couple of years in college. Swimming was always my greatest love with regards to sports; the feeling of weightlessness you have when your body is submersed in water, the fact that you can't hear anything but your own heartbeat when you're speeding down a swim lane...ahhhh...there is nothing like it. It's so calming.  I used to imagine that I was a mermaid and I'd hold my breath as long as I could, lying on the bottom of the pool gazing up at the surface, watching my air bubbles float upwards and hoping I could stay down there forever. But after about a minute or so, my face would start to turn the color of an over-ripe beet as I struggled for air, and I would rush to the surface, gasping and sucking in big gulps of air, remembering that I was a mere mortal who needed oxygen to survive. Darn.


Likewise, in the ocean I was always carefree and overly confident in my skills. When I was about 5 years old, I was cruising along on my boogie-board, way out past where the waves were breaking, next to the surfers who must have been all of about 12 years old and who I thought were the coolest people ever. My mom became worried seeing me so far from the shore and sent a lifeguard to come get me, who dragged me back to the beach. I remember being so insulted at the time, that someone thought that I, Mermaid Super Swimmer, looked like I needed help or that I appeared tired, which I did not and was not thank you very much...the ocean is my playground. To this day, I can frolick in the waves for hours without tiring.

Ahhh...memory lane. Cute right? Have we bonded yet? Are you wondering what the f'ing point of my blog is? Is your impression of me so far that I just need attention? (To clarify, that part is true. If you haven't already, please sign up to follow my blog. And leave me comments. Nice ones. Telling me I'm pretty.)

But here's the kicker: Nowhere did you read anything about soccer, softball, or any other sport (what else is there? Lacrosse? Field hockey?) that involves running of any kind...did you? Um no. You most certainly did not. Why? Because I literally do not know how to run. When my feet move quickly...typically in 5 inch heels.....it is called speed walking. My on-going joke to myself was that if my house ever caught fire, I wouldn't run for safety; I would saunter rapidly out of harm's way. With hips swaying seductively for the good-looking firemen, of course. When I was a kid, and running a mile was part of the 7th and 8th grade Physical Education fitness requirements (damn you state of California) my fastest mile EVER was about 11 minutes. And typically, I would throw up afterwards. And then lie on the ground and feel sorry for myself. My friends who all played soccer would look at me with big eyes and ask if I was okay, which noooo I wasn't okay, I hate running!!! I hate it. I suck at it. If you are in need of a visual at this point, here is what I felt like back in those days. With a little longer hair. But not too much longer, and the facial shape is truly an uncanny resemblence. Let's face it, he's my doppelganger.


Soooo here we are, about 15 years later, and my 30th birthday is looming.... June 16th, approximately 4 months away. Eeek!!! My running skills have not improved. If I am perfectly honest (and what is a blog without total honesty?) I will say that I haven't exactly given them a chance to improve. Meaning....I think the last time I ran a mile I was in 8th grade.

Growing up in the swim community, most of my friends have gone on to continue to be stellar athletes in their adult life. Not many of them ever really struggled with their weight like I have and still do, and most of them actually enjoy breaking a sweat. They trade gym stories like ex-marines trade war stories, one-upping each other with horrifying tales of whose toenail fell off from working out too hard, and who has the worst shin splints but continues to run half marathons. Ho hum, I just threw up in my mouth. Call me crazy, but I like my toenails right where they are. Preferably painted with flowers and peeking out of peep-toe high heels.

I am an inherently lazy person. And being lazy and liking food do nothing positive for each other!! Especially if that food is cheese, which I like. To quote Jim Carey from Dumb & Dumber: I like it a LOT. So while my friends have all grown up to be lithe, gorgeous athletes who carve out time for the gym, I can find almost any excuse in the book not to go. (Here's a list if you are looking for some not-so-creative ideas.) I work hard, I am tired, I have to clean the house (Ha!! No one believes that one) I need to cook dinner, my feet are sore from wearing heels all day (this one is usually true) I need to read a book, I need to be somewhere fabulous that does not involve grody sweaty people who may or may not give me ringworm from sweating all over the machines and gym mats....the list goes on. And on. And on.

Triathlons have always intrigued me, mostly because I wondered how in the hell anyone could do all 3 sports (Swimming, biking, running) so well and all at once? Triathletes are always skinny, and look sleek and machine-like running in their spandex. Well, you have my word that there will be NO SPANDEX now or ever for this Chubby Bunny, but the time has come to do something that will shake me up. And probably make me vomit. So here it is:

Encinitas Sprint Triathlon May 15th 2011

Ta da! It is the Encinitas Sprint Triathlon on May 15th, 2011 and it involves the following: 750 meter swim, 20k bike, and lastly a 5k run. I am not overly worried about the swim part of this event (see "mermaid" reference above) or even the bike necessarily (although how does one actually exit the water and slide like a wet slippery fish onto a bicycle seat? OUCH.) No, the part I am most worried about is The Run. 3.2 miles in a row. I have never, in my entire life, run that many miles in one week, let alone in a row after swimming and biking. Am I nervous? Hell yes I am. But, that is the whole point in doing this, my friend. I am not raising money for a charity (although donations of wine and cheese will be graciously accepted), I am not bringing awareness to anything, I am just going to attempt to start and finish something that will push ME in a way that I haven't done in a long time.

I am not saying I won't complain during this process, because believe me I will!!! As good as I am at being lazy, I am an even more proficient complainer. I apologize in advance to my loved ones. But, my hope is that if I chronicle a play-by-play of my workouts, and pain, and frustration, and embarrassment at times, perhaps I will not only hold myself accountable, but hopefully I'll inspire someone else out there to push themselves too. We owe it to ourselves to make the most out of every day and the body we have, and leaving our comfort zone is the only way to do it.

I will also keep an ongoing compilation of songs that motivate me and that I am actually using to workout to. One thing is for sure: I need music to convince myself that being sweaty and out of breath is a good time. So here is the first song to get us started:


I love the line in the song "Get out and wiggle it, oh, oh, oh." So hurray for an awesome song to kick this off.

Until next time,

Your Chubby Bunny in Training