FINALLY!

The scale budged. Only a little, but it budged.

206.8.

I've been challenged lately, because we've had quite the heatwave here in Chicagoland. Even if I get up early in the morning (which I did on Monday) ... it's too hot to run. This morning when I walked out the door, it was already 86 degrees. So, my running has been sporadic at best. Walking at lunch has been difficult at best; my threshold is about 90 degrees; hotter than that, and I'm just too miserable to even think about it.

All that is simply to say, hallelujah, I lost half a pound. And seeing a different (and smaller) number on the scale makes me feel like I can do that again.

What will next week bring? Hopefully a smaller butt.

Still stuck

It's been a bit since I've posted ... mostly because I am still weighing in at 207.4.

Maybe it's the menopause, but DAMN am I hungry. I could eat pretty consistently all day long. So it's no wonder the weight isn't budging! This is going to be a pretty busy/crazy weekend, to I'm going to be logging the food but not obsessing. Next week, I'll be talking to Donna, a personal trainer and nutrition guru at the gym, and see what she thinks I can do to try and ease a pound or two off. I'm so ready to be under 200!

Meanwhile, back in Stressville ...

I've been feeling a little off lately. Turns out, there's a reason.

September 5 will be my 45th birthday. And now - right now, as you sit there reading this, while I'm hanging out with my still-44-year-old self, I'm having a hot flash. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, it would appear that yours truly is once again an overachiever. I've reached perimenopause early. (Kinda like the way it took my husband only five years to get to his seven-year itch, but different.)

Anyway, we seem to have begun the trip to Old Lady Land. At FOURTY-FREAKIN-FOUR! Are you shitting me, body? Really? WTF, mate?

So that explains why I can't remember the last time I was visited by Nature's Special Time. And the night sweats. And the emotions that are running even weirder than usual. While it's nice to have a reason, it sure as hell sucks to be doing this about 10 years earlier than I'd planned. Fuck you, hormones.

Honestly, I feel like my body is betraying me at every turn. Early menopause? Check. Fucked-up Achilles? Check. Bad attitude brought on by the other two? Check and mate. So I saw the orthopedic doc yesterday, and he agreed that my Achilles isn't healing as we'd like it to. It's very big and swollen and gross and still pretty painful lots of the time. GAH. Can't it just get better now?

Okay, how 'bout now?

Fuck.

Anyway, I'm trying to power through. Trying to understand that some of the ravenous hunger is likely due to my prematurely aging body, and maybe not a true need for actual mass quantities of real food. Trying to realize that athletes sometimes get injured and the damn Achilles maybe isn't a sign from the universe that I'm not supposed to work on this athletic thing.

So here's the skinny: Dr. P says there might be little tears in the tendon. That's what we're looking for in the MRI. If that's the case, we'll need to do some therapy and see how we heal. Then we'll do some gait analysis and measurement so we can figure out why mechanically my legs cause me trouble, and how we can avoid it as much as possible in the future.

Meanwhile, my weight has stayed the same. I'm hopeful that this weekend we won't put on a whole lot of weight ... then after I get back, and my MRI results are in, we'll batten down the hatches.

Again.

Stuck?

I am actually eating a donut hole while writing this. How sick is that?

These days, my body (and my appetite) seem to be betraying me. I am constantly hungry. I swear, I can feel food being metabolized. As soon as I eat it, I feel like I want more. So I rationed out four donut holes and walked away. I could go back and eat the rest of the box. I don't think I'm exaggerating.

Is this what plateau feels like? Or am I just crazy?

I'm grateful, though, because my weight is holding. Sure, it's holding at 207.4 enormous pounds, but it's holding. I swear to sweet Jesus, if I can just get down under 200 ... hell, I don't know how I'll celebrate. But I'll celebrate! (Not with cupcakes; seriously. I was thinkin' maybe a new bathing suit.)

So anyway, it's been really rough lately! I feel stuck. And hungry. I'm sure part of it is because I hurt all the frickin' time. Between the cramp in my calf (we're almost at the two-week mark with that little bastard) and the Achilles (which is still very painful, sometimes) I just don't know what to do. I take on what I can, but I hold back when I think I need to. Maybe I don't need to, but when you're as injury-prone as I am, ya get a little gunshy.

I'm seeing the orthopedic doc next week, and we're gonna ask some important questions. Like, "What the hell is (physically) wrong with me?" and "How can I stop getting hurt?" and my personal favorite, "Why the hell is my Achilles still a pain?" So we'll see where this goes.

In the meantime ... please keep your Maggie and your donuts separate.

I didn't know I could do that

Okay, first things first: I weighed in last week, and stayed the same - 207.4. Not thrilled, but much happier than I would be if we'd gone up, so I'll take it.

No, on to today's post.

Ouch.

Saturday was the Warrior Dash. I did not die.

Warrior Dash is a 3.28 mile run/hike/stumble with 10 obstacles. Except this one had 12, plus two very steep, muddy hills and a creek that didn't count as obstacles but ... were. No, the obstacles were walls to climb over, fire to jump over, and a big mud pit, among other things. There were a few I was sure I couldn't traverse, but did, in spite of myself. There were a few I didn't trust myself on, so I didn't complete. (If I'm shaking on my first step, that's probably not a good sign!) All told, I completed nine of the 12. And I have the bruises and aching muscles to show for it!

If you want to know the whole story, you can find it here. Suffice it to say I can't wait to do it again, which sort of surprises me. This wasn't easy. It was by far the toughest thing I've ever done so far. Lots of climbing. Lots of upper-body strength. Lots of balance. Lots of trusting myself. And I did it!

I didn't know I could scale a wall. I didn't know I could climb cargo nets. I didn't know I could leap over fire.

I can. And I will again.

Obsession v. Habit

When I re-ignited this quest for physical health, I'll admit, I was obsessed. Tracking every calorie, watching every moment of cardio, and monitoring my progress toward the appropriate differential. Yes, I elected to do math, trying to ensure I had taken in 3,500 fewer calories each week than I'd worked off, and therefore ensuring myself of a one-pound weight loss.

Crazy. But it worked.

See, obsession - when you acknowledge it - leads to education. All this attention eventually became a habit.

My obsession with running is now just a fact. I'm the girl who wakes up at 5 a few days a week to get the run in. I'm the girl who simply will not miss a weight-training session, because I've seen results. I don't have to obsess about these things any more, because they've become part of my life.

The food thing is harder, perhaps because my appetite is off the charts! But even still, when I look back at my old eating habits, the way I naturally eat now is so much better. When I pig out, it's on organic gelato or hummus, instead of a half-gallon of Edy's ice cream or onion dip. (Not together. Ew!)

Little changes over time get you where you want to go. Tracking intake and progress builds good habits. And from here, I don't know who that girl was who preferred the sofa and slippers to the gym and running shoes.

Maggie 2.0 is so much more in line with who I want to be!

Running with the marathon woman. And a deer.

Yesterday, June 7, was hot in Chicagoland. A balmy 93 degrees when I left the office at 6 p.m., but that didn't stop me from meeting up with my girlfriends at Busse Woods for a little run.

My friend Linda and I have been training together since November. We've had to take time off for injuries and work schedules, but we always come back to running. This run was different, however, because our tour guide was our friend Eileen, an accomplished marathoner. She describes herself as a new runner, having only been at it for six years. Really? I guess I'm really new, then! Anyhoo, we met up with Eileen at the forest preserve, where we were joined by Esther, the mobile water unit. She rode her bike alongside us, with a cooler full of water. How cool is that?

Running through Busse was gorgeous. There was a breeze to distract us from the difficulty of the run, and the true beauty of being in nature didn't hurt, either. Eileen powered on ahead (she has a much faster pace than we) and Linda and I began to enjoy the journey.

After about two miles, Eileen turned around and caught up with us, so we headed back toward the cars after a wee water break. Linda and I were on a walk interval when we came upon the sweetest little fawn, munching on a dinner of prairie grass. We stopped and said hi, and she flipped her little fawn tail at us ... then went right back to her meal. Sweet! I will definitely come back here for more runs; it was too beautiful not to. (It should be noted that this was my first time back to Busse since the fateful day of March 21, when the Achilles told me to fuck off. It was nice to be back and not in pain!)

Back at the car, we took a Gatorade break and a photograph. No way we could let this sort of activity go by without a record of the event! So here we are, four sweaty girls, on a 90+ degree day in Chicago. We wouldn't have it any other way.

Left to right: Linda, me, Eileen and Esther - the Salsalicious Racers!