Monday, May 30, 2016

Some Shit Happened and I Took Pictures

It's been a while since I sat down and blogged. Just haven't been feeling the urge lately. Like running. I haven't been feeling the urge to do that either. I ran a half marathon at the beginning of May after being sick as fuck for 2 weeks. It went fine, I just had no desire to participate. I was supposed to make a run at a sub-2 half marathon on 5/22...except I thought the race was on 5/21. And we left for vacation early on 5/22. So I didn't run it. Part of me is sad that I didn't get to PR...but part of me is kind of relieved that I didn't have to run. You know, because I didn't really want to.

The Door County half marathon was #25 for me. Woohoo and shit. I thought it would be a bigger deal to me, but it just wasn't. It's not like I'll never run again, or I won't try to get faster...but I might be done with distance. 3-5 miles is nice. Fun. Something you can run with a friend on a whim. Training for a half when you actually train (like a communist) is time consuming...and no one wants to do it with you. And if people DO want to do it with you, invariably they never run at your pace (at least that's been my experience).

Here I am with my 25th half marathon medal. I dressed up fancy figuring that even though I still couldn't breathe easily without coughing, at least I'd look cute. But I don't really do "cute" so instead I just look like an asshole as usual.

Standard asshole, complete with asshole sunglasses.

So yeah. You won't be seeing running pictures. I know you're sad. You will be seeing squatting pictures. Sorry in advance. I set up my home gym and earned some more plates for Mother's Day, which means I've been squatting 3-4 times a week in the basement along with whatever we do at CF. I will not have a flat 40-year-old ass. And I WILL squat 200# or fucking die trying.

Maybe purple plaid isn't the best look. 

My hair looks gray in this picture. It's not. It's teal. Why teal? Because I've been pussy-footing around fantasy color for a year. Because my hair bores the fuck out of me and if I'm going to keep growing it out I have to do something. Because my work now no longer allows make-up, nail polish, or jewelry, and my hair has to be up. Because it's just fucking hair and why the hell not? 

Before. Blonde and fucking boring.

After. Motherfucking mermaid.

My plan is to eventually ditch the blonde altogether and go full teal, then as my hair grows out transition to blue and then violet. I love it.

I got my new look two days before leaving the country for my 10th wedding anniversary trip with fantastic husband. The whole "look like your passport photo" thing didn't cross my mind...fortunately it ended up fine.

Yeah. So I've been married 10 years. Fantastic husband is fond of saying I've given him the best 7.5 years of his life. I tell him that I'm happy every day. Not all day every day, but every day.

What can I say? Love is some sappy bullshit, yo.

Last year we went on a cruise with some friends and one of the places we stopped was St.Maarten/St. Martin. We went to Orient Beach, which has (among it's beauty and many recreational activities) as it's claim to fame Club Orient which maintains a clothing optional beach in front of the resort. It is not a *ahem* lifestyle beach. It's a clothing optional family resort. All beaches in St. Martin are topless, full nudity is only allowed in front of Club Orient. While we were there on our cruise fantastic husband and I said "fuck it" and went over to the nudist side. Flapping around naked in the ocean was fucking bliss, so when it was time to plan our anniversary trip? I found us an apartment in Orient Village (no, we didn't stay at the nudist resort) within walking distance of the beach. 

I also booked us First Class airfare. It really wasn't much more than what checking bags and eating/drinking on the plane would've cost. Knowing that fantastic husband gets airsick and that we would be flying for 6+ hours, I decided to treat him. Holy shit is first class amazing. I've never flown first class in all my life. Kudos to American Airlines for the most pleasant flights I've ever had (aside from Qantas-they are still the best). 

Flying first class to the islands called for an island themed look to go with my mermaid hair. Thanks to Athleta and Stitchfix for some supercomfy gear. Going through TSA (don't even get me started) I got told to empty my pockets. 

Pockets? Bitch I ain't even wearing a bra.

Some TSA flunkie called me "sweetie". I fucking hate that. It was condescending as hell. "Right over there, sweetie". This isn't my first flight, asshole. You can feel free to call me "ma'am". If I wasn't afraid I'd get arrested and miss my flight I would've told him exactly where he could stick his sweetie. 

We arrived in Philipsburg intact and on time. We picked up our pregnant rollerskate and headed out to Orient Bay.

It's so tiny I wanna DIE!

And then about a mile out of the rental agency we hit a pothole and got a flat.

FUCK.

We couldn't change it on our own, because even though we had a full-sized spare? There was a lug lock on the tire and the key wasn't with the tools. After waiting for an hour in the mid-afternoon sun, the Budget mechanic showed up with the key. We got the tire changed and were on our way. 

Budget charged me for the tire. Then they tried to sneak a "miscellaneous charge" on top of it. I paid for the tire, but I'm really fucking bitter about it. An email will be written, and I will get my money back.  

But we found our apartment, and it was perfect. No harm, no foul. We cranked up the air and went into town to find some basic groceries and dinner. 

Here's a bunch of pictures.

View from our balcony.

I spent a bunch of mornings like this. Book, coffee, sunshine.

The beach bar at Club Orient. Cops like to be nude, yo.


Do nothing beach day. I got slightly sunburned and slightly intoxicated.
Or more than slightly.

Marigot from Fort Louis.

Gods, the pastries. Living 100m from a bakery would be deadly.

Fantastic husband brought patches to trade. 
He accosted a couple of gendarmes and was fucking giddy.

Did I mention bakery? There are so...many...bakeries.

I got a harebrained idea one night on shift. I read a blog about an island called Saba that is a 10 minute turbo-prop flight from St. Martin. It's the tip of a dormant volcano, and you can climb to the top. Guess what we did on Wednesday? All my 3am ideas are good ones.

Shrouded in clouds. We climbed it.


It's the only real pocket of true rain forest in the Carribean.
It rained.

View down The Road in Windwardside.

Saba was an amazing daytrip. It has world-class scuba diving as the coastline is all protected marine park. Maybe we'll go back for our 15th and dive certify. The village was lovely, and the people are a really interesting mix of native Sabans, Dutch, ex-pat Americans (there's a medical school here), French, and anything else you can think of. 

After returning from Saba we hit the grocery store (I love grocery stores. They fascinate me.) for some sodas and frozen pizza. Then we went home and watched a movie. It was the perfect end to a physically demanding day. 

We visited 2 CrossFit boxes while we were on St. Martin. The first was outside. I loved it. The coach was really friendly, the set-up was interesting, and we could walk there from our apartment. I kinda wish we'd gone back again. Discover CrossFit if you're ever on the French side. Friday we went to Philipsburg to CrossFit SXM. The workout was long and ridiculously sweaty. It made me miss my home box.

Shirtless WOD. So sweaty.

The town of Philipsburg was underwhelming. It's a shopping mecca. I don't like shopping. Unless it's for activewear. So we walked around and then decided to go home.

We did go out for a nice dinner in the village. We had Thai food. There was a large table of Americans near us, and I heard a phrase that should never be uttered. "I love the Holocaust" I almost choked on my shrimp. I think the teenaged girl who uttered it meant the time period? But still...just...mais non. 

Ten years. Son of a bitch.


Saturday we hit the beach, then did laundry and finalized our plans for leaving on Sunday. We went out for dinner, watched the locals play bocce, then headed home to snarf down some ice cream bars and enjoy doing fuck all for the last 12 hours of our trip.  

I love huge chunks of unstructured time. That drives some people crazy, but I love having no plan, no obligations, no demands. I do this thing called what I want...even if what I want is not a goddamn thing. 

Oh, a word on the nudity thing. I've had more than a couple of people express surprise that we did that. Honestly? It wasn't a big deal at all. I felt far less self-conscious out of my swimsuit than in it. When everyone's flaws are on display you don't really notice any of them. It's very freeing. I walked around with more body confidence this last week than most of my life. I wore short shorts, padded around the apartment in my underpants, sat on the balcony in little more than my skivvies, and felt utterly and completely at peace with my body. I've been at war with my body for decades...but not this last week. What an incredible thing.

Of course, now we're back and I'm back at war, how fucked is that?

No more pastries for breakfast. Not that this is a bad thing.

I was determined that the ocean water, sand, and sun wouldn't dull my new hair color. I ordered a product to help and I took some with me on vacation. I treated my hair twice while we were gone. 

Smells like mint.

I treated it again today so it'll be bright and shiny for my first night back in the salt mine. Back in the salt mine without mascara. Goddammit. 

I can't wait to try the deep conditioning treatment.

Of note, aside from eyeliner and mascara I didn't wear make-up at all the entire time we were gone and it was fine. But I will mourn the loss of the ability to wear mascara to work forever and ever amen.

So there you have it. That's what I've been up to. This morning I did a half-Murph and I ate enough veg to kill a small horse today. Tomorrow it'll be back to Costco to stock up on all the things I should be eating to fuel my goals for the summer. I have 6 weeks until I go back to Nutritional Healing for my follow-up BIA and I want to have some amazing numbers to show for it. 

This was disjointed as fuck. Sorry. I'll do better next time.

Tomorrow is my CrossFitaversary I'll have to go in for a WOD. 


























































Saturday, April 23, 2016

Success Tastes Sweet, Like a Red Pepper

I made it to the end of my program at Nutritional Healing on Friday morning.

Wednesday night was my last night on shift. It was a busy night, and I didn't sleep all that long during the day, so it was a little rough. It was the last one though, and the business at least kept time rolling for the most part. It's a lot easier to deal with slight sleep deprivation when there's plenty to occupy your mind.

I had my dinner.
Salmon, rice, broccoli. Pretty standard.


I did some work.

I had a snack.
I have to eat red peppers every day. 
I'm vaguely obsessed.


Did some more work.

And since Thursday was my transition day, instead of coming home and going to bed I made myself some breakfast and prepared to go to the gym.
Eggs, spinach, mushrooms, and chevre for pretention.

The workout was rope climbs, these weird jump lunge thingys, and jerks. I went light because no sleep + overhead movements = badness. I made it to the beam on every rope climb, and felt good about most of them. I can get the ceiling in 3 pulls 95% of the time. I think if I could convince myself to jump up on the rope I might be able to do it in 2. Maybe someday. The jump lunges were supposed to be with a 15# dumbbell in each hand. I used 10s, because tired. Holy BALLS did those things suck. They were exhausting and somewhat difficult to execute and Friday morning? My legs were totally fucked. 

After the WOD I realized that I'd managed to rope burn my shins. Again.

I do CrossFit because it makes my legs look
so fuckin' sexy. 

There was an exciting development in home fitness this past week. I said "fuck it" and ordered a flat bench, a squat rack, and some flooring for our basement in order to make myself a home gym. I've been telling fantastic husband that I wanted to clean up the unfinished part of the basement and make it a gym. He's been insisting that we need to finish that part of the basement...for *ahem* a while with no progress. So I cleared the area, ordered my shit, and told him after the fact. Easier to ask for forgiveness than permission amirite?

So I built the stuff and he helped me secure the pull-up bar across the top. Voila. Home gym.

FUCK YEAH, SQUAT RACK!
And mismatched flooring, but whatevs.


I took a short nap, which was probably a bad idea, because I felt like a zombie when I woke up. I couldn't even tell you what I did in the afternoon or what I had for dinner. Something? I think? But fantastic husband made yonanas, so I had some of that. I haven't eaten bananas in 12 weeks (they're not on the approved foods list for NH because of the high sugar content-serving size is like 1/3 of a banana), and I didn't really miss them. I'm kind of over bananas, but this was good. Tossed on a few cocoa nibs for crunch and chocolatey flavor.

Just a little bit.

The kids wanted to go for a walk after supper and I was all "HAHAHAHAHA no". But my wonderful husband took them out, and by the time they came back I was in bed. Where I slept like a corpse for about 13 hours.

Before my BIA I can't workout for 12 hours, eat for 4 hours, or have caffeine or alcohol. Most of that isn't a big deal. My main challenge is hydration. I've been drinking water like whoa for the last 3 weeks, but I was concerned that not drinking for 13 hours before the test would be problematic. I did NOT want my final result to be skewed. So I pounded water all day while I was awake and 2 liters right before bed. 

I woke up at 2am to pee (surprise!) and pounded another 40 ounces while I was in the bathroom before going back to bed. I had asked fantastic husband earlier to remind me to drink water whenever he saw me without my water bottle. I came back to bed, he rolled over and mumbled "Did you remember to drink water?"

Is he a great husband or what?

So I woke up, got dressed in exactly the same clothes I wore to my first appointment (I want my datapoints legit, bitches), pounded 2 liters of water and headed out.

And my final results were...fucking incredible.

While I was having my weight and measurements done, Kirk the Nutrition Guy and I were chatting and he mentioned that we would be reviewing my labs. I said something like "Oh, I'm looking forward to that, I love numbers" and he got all "Spoiler alert-they're awesome" which made me smile. 

My final weight was 157# on the nose. 8.2 total pounds down. Whatever. Weight loss wasn't the goal. He measured my waist at 28.75". UNDER 29 INCHES?!?!?! What the actual fuck? I have been fighting for years to get my waist below 30, and I have once or twice, but it never stays below 30. And now it's UNDER 29?!?!

I did a little dance.

This means I lost 2.25" off my waist over the course of the program.

Next we measured my hips. 39.5". UNDER 40"!!!!! For a total loss of 1.5" off the hip. I may have danced again. Maybe.

Then I had the electrode dealiebob and Kirk recorded my numbers and put them in the whiz-bang machine.

Over the last 12 weeks I shed 5.6% body fat. I hit 21% on the dot, which was my goal. 21% body fat. Holy shit. I cannot believe I lost 5.6% body fat in TWELVE WEEKS. That is RIDICULOUS. In other numbers, I lost 11lbs of fat. Remember how I said I was down 8.2lbs? Yeah. It was ALL FAT. The difference is extra muscle and better hydration. You will never see shit like that on Jenny Craig, yo.

That number was pretty fucking exciting, but even moreso for me was my percentage of body muscle. When I started I was at 19% which is pretty damn good for an old gal like me. Yesterday? 20.3% I made it OVER 20% muscle mass!!! That's the target for dudes. 

Now I wonder if I can make those numbers intersect. Because apparently I am never satisfied with anything ever.

Perhaps even better than all this shit is my labs. They were basically fine when I started with a slight irregularity in my thyroid and insulin numbers, and a very low Vitamin D. At the end? All my numbers were fucking perfect and my vitamin D went from "Do you even go outside, bro?" to "Hey, you're scraping the bottom of the normal range!". That was pretty cool to see. I'm so shit with compliance on vitamins and stuff, so even with my spotty consumption of my vitamin D supplement I was able to make a substantial difference.

As an aside, fantastic husband has informed me that he'll "give me the D" whenever I want. How kind.

So what does all this look like? I don't have a "before" picture really, since I didn't really feel like a "before" when I started. Here is the after as of this morning.

I swear there are abs there. 
There are. 

Not exactly competition ready, 
but not too shabby.

There you have it. My final results. This whole thing has been amazing. Eye opening. All this? During this entire process I took only fish oil and vitamin D as supplements. I think I had like 2 protein shakes the whole time. This was all food. My activity level was precisely the same as it was before I started. I will repeat: THIS WAS ALL FOOD. No shakes. No pills. No powders. No special drinks. JUST FOOD. Two thousand four hundred calories of food. Errrryday. 

It was so hard at the beginning. It seemed impossible. But it is clearly not. I ate out. I had the occasional alcoholic beverage. I had a few pieces of Easter candy. I wasn't perfect, but I stuck as closely as possible to my checkboxes and I never wrote off a day. If I went out, I made the best possible choices. If I drank, I kept it moderate. If I caved and had some chocolate I didn't let myself slide into a sneaky hate spiral-and I never cheated myself out of the food I needed because I slipped. I learned that my body needs food. Good food, wisely chosen and mindfully eaten. 

There is no miracle, no gimmick, no fad. The results I got were from excessive, relentless self care. I have no intention of stopping. Why would I? I feel great, my clothes fit, and I've been making gains like fucking crazy in the gym. 

I would like to sincerely thank the staff at Nutritional Healing, in particular Kirk who was my nutritionist for the last 12 weeks. Everyone was so nice, and I looked forward to my visits every 2 weeks.  I'll be back in 12 weeks to check my continued progress and keep myself honest. 

Here's a picture of my brunch after my 15 hour fast. It was delicious, it was almost filling (seriously, what a difference from 12 weeks ago), and it was all on plan. I considered "rewarding" myself with something shitty after my appointment. But you know what? That's stupid. So instead I had this.

And it was awesome.


Friday night I celebrated with a concert. Mumford&Sons. It was a great show. I even had 2 beers beforehand, because beer is delicious.
The encore.

And now if you'll excuse me, I need to make a huge breakfast so I can be fueled up enough to perform 3 of my least favorite CF movements in about an hour.

Fucking thrusters. 


















Friday, April 15, 2016

Day 16 of 23: I Need to Stop.

Buying pants. I need to stop buying pants.

BUT LOOK HOW CUTE THEY ARE!

I justify this by buying only stuff on clearance. I've only purchased one regular price fitness item in this whole endeavor. But clearance stuff adds up, too. Since I pretty much only wear gym clothes this is totally legit though, right?

Don't worry, I haven't spent myself into a hole or turned to a life of crime or anything, but I'm definitely a little out of control. With this delivery I've officially replaced every pair of pants I gave away. I have 6 pairs of perfectly acceptable shorts, and I definitely don't need anymore tanks or shirts for working out.

I'm just giving myself plenty of incentive to stay on the wagon. All part of the grand plan.  No it's not. I just love the shit out of this stripey fabric and I must have it in all the colors OH MAH GAH. 

Yesterday I took a rest day. This is how a rest day looks for me. Sitting in a chair, feet up with my sheepy shirt on. Yarn to my left, laptop open to my knitting website. I drank coffee and worked on my Zodiac blanket. Pretty much all day. I did take the dog for a walk, but that was it.

Resting makes me antsy. If I didn't knit I'd go nuts.

Now, I love doing nothing. I really do, and rest is vitally important to any fitness program. But I haven't taken many full-on rest days lately and it was harder than expected. What saved me was the Hero WOD programmed at the box. "Adrian". I'm not a fan of that workout...because I can't do somersaults. For real. No matter how I'm instructed, I always end up landing on my neck and my head, neck, and shoulders hurt for days afterwards (and I mean they hurt not they're sore). So I skipped it. Thanks for the rest day, Coach. 

Since I was resting, I had a carb heavy breakfast. That sounds stupid, but I can't eat oatmeal before a hard workout. I burn through it too quickly and brown out. It's delicious, and I love it, but it's shitty workout fuel for my hyperactive pancreas. 

With blueberries and some nuts 'n seeds.

The rest of the day I spent picking at snacks and dicking around. Laundry folding, trying to nap (unsuccessfully), doing dishes, knitting, and finally heading off to work. When I got there I was handed a surprise in the form of "Hi! Signing off now!" at 10pm from our northern partner. Uh, okay, I guess I'm on double hospital duty my whole shift now. 

It's cool.

Last night was a weird one. It wasn't busy exactly, but we had a few oddball things pop in and out overnight. That always makes things exciting. I pounded down 72oz of water before midnight to complete my water for yesterday and shot for 24oz of water every 90 minutes for the rest of my shift. I made it.

I also made a lot of trips to the bathroom. 

Dinner was slightly delayed by a flurry of activity, and then delayed again with another. So I ate this lukewarm. Oh well. If I'd reheated it the fish would've just turned into jerky. 

I decided to go with legumes.

The night passed fairly quickly. I made a bunch of IVs, did a CE seminar, refreshed my memory on some stuff for the NICU rotation I'm going to help precept in May (yeah, that's right, they're going to let me participate in the education of young pharmacists), and ate snacks.

SNAAAAAACKS!

I made a pot of Deathwish at the start of my shift and had a couple of cups. I switched to tea around 2am. At around 5am I broke out my second snack. I wasn't exactly hungry, but sometimes shit blows up right before 0600 and I didn't want to miss it completely.

Blueberries and coconut yogurt. NOM.

I didn't make it down to the cafeteria for my usual eggs at 0630, so when I got home at 745 I was really hungry and also stupid tired (no nap Thursdays suuuuuuuck). I just ate a little something to quiet my guts and then I was face down in the bed, dead to the world.

Ezekiel toast, I heart you.

I slept reasonably well today. Only woke up once to go to the bathroom, and mercifully fell right back asleep.

Drink All The Water Pee All The Time Meme - Funny Gym Meme #fitness #funny #workout:
I see this image used all the time. It's originally from Hyperbole and a Half

Once I decided I was up for the day, I made breakfast (which is kind of dinner, but not). I still had lots of veg available, so I did it up big.

A little goat cheese in the eggs because I am a fuckin' foodie.

I debated going to the box at 4:15, but my calves were still in knots so I rolled them out and headed to happy hour yoga instead. The first time I ever went to Jenstar was for Hip Hop Happy Hour just about 2 years ago. I hadn't done yoga in a studio really ever, just at the Y, and the instructors always played New Agey "Woo" music and that just isn't my bag. So when my co-worker told me about non-woo music yoga, I agreed to go. That was the start of a long, challenging journey through yoga for me. Now the Friday happy hour schedule is a rotating one, but my favorite instructor had her turn tonight (Hi, Jen!) and she loaded up hip hop for us. It was fucking delightful. One of the things I deeply appreciate about all the instructors at Jenstar is the general lack of Woo. Shit stays low key. The music is typically contemporary (sometimes throwback) but only rarely Woo music. Sometimes there is silence, which can be very calming. I started doing yoga for the workout and the stretch, and it's definitely that. I kept doing it for the stress relief, attention to breath, and sense of balance it provides. I think I have a lot more control over my physical being than I ever did before. I've had nights when I felt energy in the room and left feeling grounded and centered. It's not...transcendent exactly, but it can be emotional (in a good way). As I'm sure you know, I really don't buy into metaphysical claptrap. I do believe that there is something to being fully within yourself and aware of the energy of the people around you. 

At any rate, I did a little dancing in down dog and fell the fuck out of boat pose. It was awesome. Oh, and that standing posture where you hook your fingers around your big toe and push your leg out straight in front of you? I'm totally going to get that shit. It's gonna take forever (thanks, stupid hamstrings), but I'm gonna get it. 

I wore some new pants. Not the ones I got today. Other new pants.


I told you I have a problem. 

When I got home I made myself a yogurt snack. I'm out of the salted caramel flavor, but cocoa nibs are pretty boss mixed into the coconut flavor as it turns out. It ain't exactly chocolate chip ice cream, but I feel waaaaaay less shitty about myself after chowing this down.

Zesty's was open today. This ain't Zesty's

In a minute I'll pack my lunch and hop in the shower. Night 2 of 7 on tap. 

I'll be packing my gym clothes so I can go straight to the box after work in the morning. I don't like to be out of the gym 3 days in a row. It's pretty much my social hour. Then yoga, then a run, then leading a meeting. Once that's all done I'll come home and crash. Since there's no one here but me I can sleep until 8:30 and then just go straight to work. We'll see how that pans out. Luckily my run is only 5 miles at 11+ min/mile so I can full on dog it and still have technically accomplished something. 

Oh gods. The cropped version of my favorite lulu pants just showed up in the clearance section.

They have my size.

Send help.



















Wednesday, April 13, 2016

Day 15 of 23: 800m Repeats Can Suck It

I was all excited for Spring to be here...and it was. In the form of April showers. Sigh. I still wore fucking shorts, because it is APRIL. And wet pants really suck for running.

This morning I got up and headed to the box for the 515. We squatted and rowed and a bunch of other stuff. I was proud of myself for squatting 125 x 5, since that's only 5lbs (10lbs? I can't remember if my max was 130 or 135 suddenly) below my max and I failed the fuck out of 140 a few weeks ago. Stupid lazy glutes. I've gotten lazy with my heavy bridges, since I don't have a flat bench at home and to use the downstairs ottoman I have to shovel a metric ton of shit out of the way. Time to get back on that wagon. Swimsuit season is a-comin'. I wore a new pair of pants today and was again astounded by the fact that through squatting, rowing, snatching, deadlifting, and goblet squatting I never had to pull up my pants! Not once!

I have to eat before I work out. I cannot do it on an empty stomach. So many people can run or whatever with nothing but coffee in their guts, but not me. I can't go hard with no calories. This morning I tried out a Wellabar as a pre-WOD snack. 300ish calories with a nice mix of protein and carbs.

And Deathwish. It's 4:30am for fuck's sake.

After the WOD I did some GHDs and then headed home. Fantastic husband had breakfast and lunch for the kids handled, so I finished my coffee, made another cup, and after the smalls left for school? I made a giant breakfast. If I'm being honest it was a complete bribe. I hate 800m repeats. But if I eat this much I have no excuse not to run fast, right?

EAT ALL THE FOOD.

It was 36ish degrees and raining lightly when we got back to the box. Fantastic husband did the WOD, and I went out for my run. 1.5 miles around the industrial park. Honestly, the temp was fine even in shorts. I wore knee high smartwool socks and I wasn't cold. The wind was kind of evil down Glory Rd, but out of the wind it was fairly pleasant. I did my repeats with a 400m recovery interval. I normally walk at least part of the recovery, but it was too wet for that today. I ran the whole deal, just not as fast at the repeats. Once I finished my 800s, I decided to run a slow mile as a cooldown. During my final mile it started sleeting. By the time I got back to the box I was soaked to the skin. After rolling out my legs (which were bright red from the cold) I changed clothes. Every single layer I was wearing was saturated and my hair was dripping. Spring, my big white ass.

Oh, I also got splashed by a truck. That was fun. 

After his workout, fantastic husband worked on pull-ups and I rolled out my calves (which hurt like a bitch for some reason). Basically we were killing time until HuHot opened at 11, because I was hungry. I had a huge plateful of meat and veg. I love HuHot.

Get in my belly!

After lunch we headed home. I turned on the fireplace and folded laundry while I enjoyed a nice cup of coffee full of booze. Can't be perfect all the time. It was after noon...

Valhalla with Kringle Cream.

One of the things I always found frustrating about training for distance is the hunger. I used to use running for weight loss (which is laughable because it didn't work AT ALL) and the hunger would drive me insane. Now that I eat every 2 hours or so it's less problematic, but the ferocity of it startled me a little today. Must have been the combination of fresh air, cold, and hard intervals.

Snacks. NOM.

Fantastic husband took the smalls to CF kids and then for haircuts, so I was on my own for dinner. I have yoga at 6:30, so I ate early. It's either that or wait until 8 tonight to have my dinner and we all know that's crazy talk. 

Work hard, eat well.

I am very much looking forward to hot yoga tonight. Dreary days make me cold, especially after a strenuous run. I recover too far in the other direction. My heart rate drops through the floor and I get chilled to my bones. Stretching in a hot room will be divine. My legs can definitely use it. 

Tomorrow I'm going to play it by ear. I'm sure I'll go to the box at some point, but I also need a nap before heading back into the salt mine. Something tells me that Friday and Sunday I'm going to do fuck all, so I may need to push myself to be active tomorrow. The weather is supposed to improve pretty markedly. I'm hopeful. 

Goal for this week at work: GET ALL MY WATER. Eat a shitload of veggies. Be as active as possible. 

Try on a pair of extra-small scrub pants. 

Final stretch, then I'm on my own. Strangely, I feel very confident that I can keep this up without oversight. I am going to miss the data, though, because as you know...I love being an experiment of one.