The Long Run: I am not a Camel

So I was going through pictures from a recent vacation and found this picture of my sister and my kids riding a camel. I had to explain to the five year why a camel had a hump and how they fill their hump. That reminded me of yet another animal that I may act like at times, but  shouldn't.

I have a bad tendency after a workout, or perhaps just lunch in general, to eat large quantities of food or breads in particular. I eat way way over the suggested serving size. Before my transformation, I would binge almost and not worry about the calories, just eat less for dinner. You can imagine how well this went.  I would try to starve to make up for my overeating, and then binge again until I was overfull because I was so hungry. I was turning my self into a camel, only my hump was my big fat belly on the front.

Now I know better, and make sure I stay within my budget for the day. Yet I am still making this mistake with my portion control. By eating to much in one meal, my tummy gets overfilled and expands.  It doesn't feel very good. Not to mention, you body can only process and use so much food at a time, even after a big run. What do you think happens to all the carbs and proteins that the body can't process? That's right, it turns to fat.

That is one of the reasons we have all heard "experts" suggesting 5 small meals a day. It gives your body a chance to efficient process the fuel it's been given. If I give my body more fuel than it can use at a time, it's going to dump the excess, right on my bum, thighs and belly. Even if I am within my caloric budget for the day.

So I am standing up and saying no more. I am not a camel!! I don't like feasting and gorging and feeling like crap afterwards. Wondering where the entire plate disappeared, or if I even remembered to chew. How is that satisfying? It's not. So in about 5 minutes I am going on my long run, 15 miles today. And when I get back, I will find something to eat and savor every bite instead of shoveling it it and saving it in my hump for later.

Exercise for the Soul: Emotional Eating

My big fat waistline was a physical representation of an emotional issue. They were so inextricably linked, that I couldn't solve one without the other.

I was happy-- I needed cake to celebrate. Rough day-- Ben and Jerry's had a flavor custom made for the heart ache.

I personally had to take a good hard look as to why I was fat, and it wasn't just because of a love of food.

Take a deep hard look at your eating habits and figure out if a love of butter is making you hefty. Or is it more that the self esteem issues are keeping you from getting thin?

Potpourri:10 pounds a year

Here's a little something I read.

If you cut off 100 calories a day, (that's either by limiting your snack intake or walking one mile a day), you should lose 10 pounds over the course of a year.

Conversely, if you add a 100 calories over your daily budget, you will gain 10 pounds a year.

Scary to think that 5 stinkin extra starbursts a day could make you gain 10 pounds if you do that for a year.

Dress for Success: If the Shoe Fits

 

Coolest shoes ever right? They look cool, but they'd be hell to run it.

Take it from somebody who knows, exercise wear starts with your feet. I've made ever mistake you can think of when it comes to shoes. I've bought clearance shoes that didn't really fit, but they were cheap. I've bought the cutest shoes that didn't have the right motion control. I've worn my shape-ups to run - never, ever, ever do this one!! 

Do yourself and your feet a favor. Go to a real running shoe store, not walmart, and get fitted for shoes. Here's an excerpt about my first running shoes from my book Finished Being Fat: An accidental adventure in losing weight and learning to finish coming to a bookshelf near you in January 2013.

            According to all the experts, when you started running, the first thing you had to do was buy a good pair of running shoes.  That couldn’t be too hard right? Go to the store get a cute size seven that’s cheap and be done with it.  When I got the running store I found out how wrong I was. First question the clerk asked me was if I was an under or over pronater? I didn’t think that was any of his business. Then he guided me to the never ending wall of shoes. Apparently there was more to picking a shoe than just color choices. Each pair of shoes had a different purpose - ones for stability, motion control, extra cushion, racing flats, those barefoot thingies that look like socks.  He explained the grave consequences of choosing the wrong shoe; arch problems, IT band problems, planter fasciitis, losing toenails, knee replacements. 

            It should be noted that I have a giant phobia of being wrong. It colors everything I do.  I have trouble picking the restaurant because I’m afraid I’ll pick the wrong one and no one else will like it, or someone will get food poisoning and then it will be my fault because I picked the restaurant. I had been ok with choosing my own shoes when I only had to worry about matching my new running outfit. Now this guy was telling me that my choice had bigger consequences than just a fashion faux pas. That freaked me out! What if I made the wrong choice and crippled myself?

             So as usual, I didn’t make a choice at all. I walked out of the store and started to run in my well loved, worn out hiking shoes. Turns out not making a decision was probably the worse decision I could make. Within a week my left knee hurt if I even thought about running. I had blisters on my heels, between my toes, and I think a blister might have started forming under my toenail if that was possible. Who knew hiking shoes did not make good running shoes?  Aside from you and probably ninety percent of the population, my husband did. That’s why the next Saturday Jarom packed kids in the car and marched me back into the running center.

            Of course the same clerk was there with a huge “I knew you’d be back” grin on his face. If he said I told you so, he could kiss his commission goodbye. Since I still had no idea what kind of shoe I needed, he had me try on a variety in the size sevens I requested.  When I didn’t like the feel of any of those, he wisely decided to measure my feet and then disappeared in the back room.  My best friend Misty had been preaching the religion of shoe shopping for years, but personally I thought this was more like purgatory than heaven. I looked over at Jarom, who was too busy taking a sports bra off my daughter Lily’s head to be of any help. 

            The clerk returned with a box that said Saucony.  Since I have really bad eyesight, I read it as Saucy, so when he opened the box I expected the shoes inside to reflect that and be cute and “saucy” -  maybe even pink. Boy was I wrong. They were ugly white sneakers with a blue slash on the side. But that was not the most offensive thing, the biggest problem was that the tag said size eight wide. Excuse me? Maybe I was being overly sensitive, but I was a little upset that this clerk thought that I had fat feet. When I pointed out that he had obviously grabbed the wrong size, he said nothing and laced them onto my feet.

            And so on my twelfth pair of shoes I had a Cinderella moment. The skies opened up, angels sang a heavenly chorus, and I knew these ugly, expensive, most comfortable shoes on the planet would take me where I needed to go. I was in love.

             I left that store two hundred dollars poor, but gained new insight. How many great things had I missed out on in life because I had been afraid of picking the wrong one? Never again would I let the fear of being wrong keep me from something I enjoyed. From then on when it was my turn to choose a place to eat, I was not going to defer to someone else and eat lukewarm Mexican. No, if I wanted sushi, then by golly we would have sushi and I would love it.

Snack Smart: Snack with intent

How many times have I meant to grab a handful of chips for a snack, then before I knew it the whole bag was gone? More times than my five year old can count.

Easiest solution? Don't go for the open ended snack. Figure out exactly how many calories you have budgeted for your snack, set aside the correct number of your chosen yumminess, then have at it.  When its gone, its gone.

For me at least, I have a compulsory need to finish the plate, the bag, or whatever container its in.  I blame my mother and the whole "Finish your plate, there are starving children in China". So measure and make the bag smaller.

Pay attention to each bite, otherwise, the you might look down and find the bag empty and have no clue where the food went. Aside from the crumbs on your cheek.

Fitness Tip: HIIT

Before you hit the weights, start with 5 minutes of HIIT. High Intensity Interval Training.  It will kick you into that fat burning zone before you do lifting.

Here's an easy way to do it: Hop on a bike. move the resistance up a few notches. The ride at an slow and easy pace for 45 seconds. Then for the next 15 secs. pedal for all your worth. Repeat this four more times for the 5 min total.

The Long Run: Workout Barbie

Barbie: Every woman's has had one, nearly every woman wants to look like one.

How many of us actually do? Not a lot.

I've been going to my Zumba class work about 6 months now. There's a lady I have chatted up many times. Let's call her Workout Barbie.  She looks remarkably like the picture above. This Tuesday, I felt particularly frustrated with her super tight buns as I watched mine jiggle in the mirror. After class I went up to her and asked what I had been wondering for the last six months.

"So do you look like this naturally or does it take a whole lot of work and I'm just not working hard enough."

Luckily she had a sense of humor and didn't smack me. She actually answered.

"Some of it genetics, my siblings are both pretty small. But I come to the gym for at least 2-3 hours a day and starve like a barbie. It kinda sucks."

I laughed out loud. I couldn't believe she was so honest. "But it works. I mean don't take this the wrong way, but you're hot. And your butt is amazing."

"Thank you. I'm glad it looks good. But it still sucks."

That made me think. Would I rather live a happy fulfilling life and keep an imperfect body. (fit, but still a little jiggly around the edges) Or would I rather have the perfect body (as much as genetics allows and 5% body fat) and never look at a carb again and keep up a routine that makes me miserable?

It feels like I am miserable when I am fat. But trying to meet the Barbie standard makes me miserable too.

Guess I'll just have to stay fit and healthy and make peace with my flab-ulous imperfections