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Apr 30

21 on the California coast

After a night without sleep thanks to my insomnia kicking back up, a 3 a.m. wake up alarm, an hour-plus bus ride down the California coast in the dark, a Golden delicious apple and two bathroom stops, I was off this morning at 6:45 a.m.

The Big Sur 21-miler was the most challenging run I’ve ever done (hills, inclement and ever changing weather and  a constantly banked surface), but it was beautiful and memorable. And my legs didn’t give out. Not once. It was only after I walked across the finish line that I started to experience some illiotibial band issues in my left leg.

Total time: 4:42:23

And I kept moving, even when the bottoms of my feet were on fire and blisters were for certain.

My longest training run on my San Diego marathon path is now done.

Full race report coming when I can get my bearings back and my leg doesn’t need constant ice.

Apr 28

Big Sur 21-miler prep

We made it!

I have my bib and my bus ticket! I know what time at ‘o dark thirty I’m waking up! I’m ready, I think, to go!

I’m still more than a little scared, though.

This isn’t an easy marathon. It’s not flat. Crossing my fingers for a good run tomorrow!

Apr 28

Lottery luck

Sometimes I get lucky. Just plain lucky. I owe some great career moves to luck really. I have two great internships out of state because of, what I think, is luck. I have a good job because of luck. I’m lucky in a lot of ways.

Running has never been one of those fields I’m lucky in. Despite giving it everything I have,  haven’t been able to gain speed or do better than a 2:27-ish half marathon. I bust my butt and still, it’s a constant struggle.

Last year, I signed up for a group ID and registered for the Nike Women’s Half Marathon in San Francisco. I waited, lost sleep and kept checking my credit card statement.

I watched the Facebook page all day long. And finally, a day after they started announcing that they were selecting entries, I as notified I hadn’t won a coveted spot.

I was crushed. I couldn’t believe that the one half marathon I’d wanted to do since I started running was now off limits. I was so upset I didn’t really let reality sink in. That’s probably why, months later, I was still looking for entry. And, as I started this blog right before I ran that race, I think it’s now known that I found a way in as part of a sponsored team.

Four weeks ago, I applied to run this year’s half marathon. Yesterday, I got in. I was greeted at 6 a.m. when I woke up with an email in my inbox that said the following:

Whether it’s your first or fiftieth race, there really is no other feeling quite like standing at the starting line.

We’re so glad that in 2012, you’ll be sharing that moment with us.

That’s right, you read that correctly. You’ve officially been selected to run in the 2012 Nike Women’s Marathon in San Francisco. Congratulations!

I’ll admit it: I did a happy dance.

Why? I love, love, love this race. I love to run in San Francisco. I love my Nikes too. I’m thrilled to be running it again. So thrilled.

But with luck also comes disappointment. On a whim, I also applied to run the New York City Marathon. Because I’m crazy? Because I really needed to off and fly 3,000-plus miles away for a marathon?

Actually it’s because after my visit to New York City last summer on vacation, I kind of fell in love with Central Park and Staten Island. (Two very different places, yes.)

I actually imagined going for a run in Central Park. But we stayed on Staten Island in a not so view friendly part of town (I did see the tip of the Bayonne Bride from my window, though). I thought it would be thrilling to run New York.

But it wasn’t to be.

Instead, after all the Wednesday fanfare and realizing that my credit card hadn’t been charged (these days a tell-tale sign of “getting in”), I knew it wasn’t happening for me.

Only today (seriously two days later) did I receive the email notifying me that I didn’t make the cut.

Well snap.

After last year’s Nike rejection, I kind of felt as if I’d been in that place before. I didn’t hurt as deep. I didn’t feel betrayed. And I shouldn’t have really.

A race is a race.

Many big races nowadays use lotteries because they are so in demand. (I wonder how many people opted NOT to sign up for the Nike event in San Francisco, though, because the company is now going a half next spring in Washington, D.C.)

To be fair, though, I’m still a little shocked I got into Nike via the lottery this year. I had planned to take quite a bit of time off from long-distance running this summer/fall and into the winter. My goal was to reclaim my diet and cut back on mileage.

Now I’ll be training into the fall.

So I’m considering doing the Big Sur Half Marathon again. I’m also considering running the California International Marathon for a second year. Wow. I never thought I’d write that sentence.

But then I’d be in a perpetual state of marathon training for more than a year. Big deal? Maybe. I’m not quite ready to take the plunge and sign up yet.

I may after I get through this weekend, though. We head to the Big Sur/Monterey area tomorrow morning for the Big Sur 21-miler on Highway 1. I’m excited, but very, very nervous. I have a nice time limit, but the hills, I hear, are kind of killer.

And I haven’t had enough outdoor running lately. Nervous. Tense. Scared. All of those things. I’ll get through this weekend before I make any huge plans for the rest of the year.

 

Apr 25

The will without the energy

Ever felt this way? All you want to do is go home and run five miles. Then you come home and look at the time and say: “There’s just no way.”

That’s kind of my life over the past four or five weeks. Between my full time job and my part time job, I work about 10 hours a day, sometimes 12. On days when news breaks or big things happen, it sometimes stretches into the evening.

I’m fatigued. And my legs are giving me problems now.

For the past three days, my legs have been so heavy I haven’t wanted to do anything. Yesterday, I wanted to run five miles. Instead I pulled out my Reebok step and did 30 minutes of step aerobics. Just so I could move. Just so I could feel like I did something. (Now, on second thought, this would have been a good chance for me to mount the bike I’ve been sorely neglecting.)

I forgot how much step can make me sweat.

That’s an “after” shot. You can’t really see all the sweat, but it’s there.

I took two Ibuprofens last night. Then I spent about 45 minutes to an hour massaging my legs. I slept in compression socks. I woke up feeling better, but by the end of my lab with my students, I knew my legs weren’t 100 percent. And they wouldn’t be. Unless I took action.

I called Massage Envy, where I have a membership, and scheduled a hot/cold massage for my body, with particular attention to my legs. It will cost me $60 because it’s outside of my membership time. But my legs need it.

Especially because the 21 miler in Big Sur this weekend is now seeming very, very scary. I’m really worried about how this is all going to go. I’m worried about my training. I’m worried about nutrition. I’m worried about whether or not I can make it.

I have the will. I don’t have the energy. I’m not sure I can make it through.

Hopefully the rub out will do the trick. It kind of has to. I can’t show up to the start line with legs that just say no. It’s not a 10K. It’s 21 miles.

Apr 22

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3.47 miles of mud and fun

I figured I’d start out this post by putting up the photo that best represents what I know people are going to want to know about this mud race: “How muddy do you really get?”

The answer: Covered. Head to toe. In your ears. In your hair. The mud is everywhere. My husband had to hose me down when I came home. And I had already gotten a bunch of the mud off me. You are covered, literally, within the first couple minutes.

And it just keeps packing on throughout the 3.47 mile run.

The before picture is when my husband was waiting for my wave to begin. I actually ended up in an earlier way. Only by 15 minutes, but still earlier than I thought. There was no one patrolling the start line. People just kind of kicked back and wait for it to begin. Of course there were those crazy types who hit the ground running immediately. I wasn’t one of them.

I consider myself more of a middle packer.

And so I was off at 2 p.m. We climbed a hill, which I was able to run up completely, and went down into the first pit. Then through some bungee wires. Then we ran for a good while before hitting a slide. I didn’t get far with the slide, literally only a couple feet before I had to get up and walk. then I ran, at an average pace, for a good while before coming to the 4X4 planks to cross over a ditch.

It was kind of one thing after another with about .25 to .50 of a mile in between.

The most terrifying initially was the walls to go over. I did that fine. I did rip off my number, though. I had to fumble for a minute or two to put it back on and tie my shoe.

Then over a 20+ foot cargo net, which, yes, was scary. I’m afraid of heights. I had to take a moment to compose myself at the top of the stack. Then slowly work my way back down.

After those obstacles, I made my way to the water station. The volunteers were awesome at handing out water quickly. But the water was warm. I just happened to be running at the hottest part of the day too. Meh. It was unpleasant.

Then, on to the trench. This had to be the most difficult of all the obstacles. I literally had to take sow, deliberate steps to get my way out. My shoes almost came off numerous times. I keep hitting the muddy walls.

I literally have scratches all over my body now, particularly on my knees.

That’s more than four hours after the fact. Pretty gnarly. And it hurts really bad too. I think I’m going to put some antibiotics on both knees before bed. I have a feeling this could get bad if I don’t do something about it.

So, back to the race. It was hot. And I was covered in mud past the trench. The mud literally went up to my thighs. I walked for a good while before hitting the monkey bars. My arms, at that point, were not having it.

It didn’t help that people were going out on one, dropping down and running.

We hit a nice 3/4 mile area where we ran back into the main area at Dell’Osso Family Farm and hit a cargo net. It’s there the waiting for things began. I waited to get a good spot on the net (which still wasn’t that good). Then I waited to get over the hay bails.

Then up and down stairs twice. Stairs? Did I say stairs? Oh yes. They were part of the mud run. After the first obstacle, you’re like “really, stairs, I can do stairs.” By the time you actually get to them, you’re like “WTF STAIRS! NO! NO STAIRS! DIE STAIRS!”

Or maybe it’s just me.

Then runners/mudders hit a grand finale area where you cross over large cylinders, or go under. I went over and fell hands first into the mud three times. Then over a muddy mountain. Then through tubes that were about twenty feet long.

Too bad I had no one running with me to push me through the tube initially. I needed a push. I literally waited in front of a tube for more than 3 minutes waiting for someone to push me. Finally a guy did. I love that guy. I felt helpless. These are runs you really shouldn’t do alone. That guy saved me. I was ready to give up.

The only problem was I went on my back and had to propel my way through like a snake or something.

Then, with uneasy feet I headed to the finish line. My bib was hanging on by one safety pin. No one could see my number. I was thirsty and tired. A guy with a nice smile handed me a banana. Another opened a bottle of water. And, as I was drinking, a volunteer gave me a medal, inside a little baggy.

The medal, sans baggy, after I cleaned up and finally got a look at it. That’s a nice medal, definitely.

I wandered around for a good minute before Thomas found me. I’ve never been more glad to run without Gertrude the Garmin or my phone. I was caked in mud. And the finish line was an array of crazy.

That’s my butt covered in mud to the right. I know, it’s hot to see me carry my extra shorts that fell off in one of the pits. (Thanks random chick for handing them back to me!)

My final time: 54:18

For a first time mud runner and, after acknowledging my time probably would have been better if I wasn’t so patient with people, I think that’s pretty good.

I decided, after seeing the ridiculously long lines for the showers, to bypass one and just pop in the car for the less than 20 minute ride home. (Seriously, I’m so glad this race was in Lathrop. Anywhere else and I probably wouldn’t have done it.)

As we walked through the parking lot, we saw the remnants of runners past.

Thomas took these photos. I didn’t want to risk touching the new iPhone with muddy hands. And I was caked. Just caked.

By the way, you know your husband loves you when he hoses you down in the backyard when you’re wearing only a sports bra and underwear. And that’s exactly what he did.

After that, he let me go in the house.

I showered to get all the nasties out of my hair.

After the hosing, before the shower. And this is as close to naked as I’ll ever, hopefully, be seen on the Internet. (And I know you envy my husband’s awesome Budweiser towel.)

After all of that, I officially survived. I even have a shirt to prove it.

And overall, I enjoyed myself.

The good: Organized start. Decently challenging obstacles. Nice flow. Water station in the middle. Nice medals. Fun field. Lots of variety.

The bad: Waiting at the obstacles. The weather (I know it’s not something that can be controlled, but it was hot.) Warm mud. Getting kicked in the head. Nearly losing my shoes.

In the end, you end up looking a little gnarly with mud on your teeth, but it’s worth it.

By the way, it pays to be friends with a professional photographer. My buddy Craig was shooting the event for the newspaper and he snapped this picture of me. I might frame it, I love it so much. I look so happy. That’s so rare.

At the end of it, I came home, helped my husband move some rocks to the backyard and then ate a champion dinner from The Squeeze Inn.

It looked a little like Heaven.

Seven hours after my wave began, I’m tired and my knees and killing me. Would I do it again? I’m not too sure. But I definitely enjoyed myself.

For those wondering, my essential gear worked good. The shoes stayed put, as they were tied tightly, and the top and sports bra stayed in place. The extra shorts did not. I’d avoid those next time, if I go again. Those are the shorts that actually slid off. The “sports bra” and “booty shorts” actually stayed in place very well.

And now, next week, I have a 21-miler along the California coast on Highway 1. I’m a little tired today after this one, so I’m hoping for an equally good experience next week.

Apr 21

Gearing up for a muddy run

Do you know how many times I’ve Googled “what to wear to a mud run?” this week? It’s not even funny how many. I did it at school. At work during my Weight Watchers lunch break. At home in the evening. Even this morning.

You know what I found? Little to nothing. Lots of reviews. Nothing tell me what I should wear outside of “not something you love because it will likely be stained.” Well, yes. I figured as much.

The shoes, above, were easy.

That specific pair of Nike Equalon’s have been sitting in my garage for more than a year. I wore them during the Brazen Mount Diablo 10K in March 2011 because it was a wet, rainy day, which kind of turned it into a mud run in itself. I actually lost one of the shoes in a ravine and had to chase after it for a good while.

I had phased this pair out four weeks before. The week after I was running my first half marathon. So they were essentially “retired” when I last wore them. And they are still covered in mud. Perfect, I figure. No problem on the shoes. (Though I do need to track down some innersoles for them since I don’t want to wear my nice ones.)

But what else?

I asked my running club this week. I was told a sports bra and “booty shorts.” Ha. I couldn’t pull that look off it I tried on one of my skinniest days. I did enjoy the conversation that ensued on Facebook with the club, though.

I started going through my clothes last week and suddenly realized I faced a challenge: I had nothing to wear.

Why? Because here’s the point in which I sound pretentious. I have nice running clothes. After the first 10 months I ran in cotton, I decided to invest in some seriously nice clothes. Now my cheapest pair of capris is a $55 pair of Nike Relay pants. My most expensive? Lululemon Run: In the Sun capris.

So I stopped by Target (I love Target. I hate how you can walk in there for one thing and leave with 10, but I love the low prices and good quality) and picked up some new, inexpensive clothes, which can be used again if I can get the mud out.

A new Champion shirt for $15. I’m 100 percent sure I can wear this again too because it’s black and the material is slicker than most shirts. I don’t think it was absorb any of the mud/dirt.

And some colorful shorts. These were a steal for $10. I wanted something, anything with color. The best part is these are reversible. So the blue will likely get destroyed, but the black side will be good for gardening and other housework I usually do now in my Nike running shorts. So, really, I can wear both of these things again for the money.

I’m wearing a pair of my Nike socks too, but only because they have holes in the big toes and I’m about ready to throw them away. Too bad too, because they are still good, but I can’t exactly fix the hole. I tried on another pair and the seam just rubbed my toes the wrong way.

I actually decided to wear a pair of compression shorts underneath the blue shorts too. I’m hoping it prevents mud from getting up in places I don’t want it.

Even better, this week I got a new special edition of Runner’s World Magazine.

And, if you look closely, you can see why I was more than a little excited.

The magazine had a really good article about how mud runs are growing in popularity. Want proof? The one I’m running in today launches 300 runners every 15 minutes from 9 a.m. to 4 p.m. My way isn’t until 2:15 p.m., which is why I’m sitting at home writing a blog post instead of out running. I did do four easy on the treadmill this morning just to warm my legs up.

And I figured it would be OK to run because this afternoon is more endurance, slow run and fun than it is a real run. (Is that bad to say? Mud runs aren’t runs? I don’t know yet. I haven’t done one. This is my first today.)

I finally had a chance to read it and loved the little primer on mud runs and how to prepare.

This has basically answered many of the questions I’ve had about what to expect and what the experience will be like. This is why I love Runner’s World. I swear, the magazine is great for both experienced and new runners. And it seems to answer my questions before I even know I have them.

So what else am I taking to the mud run? Nothing. Maybe some cash, but otherwise absolutely nothing. Not even my phone. (I literally just got a new phone two days ago because my Android X decided to finally cut out on me. What did I get? An iPhone 4S. I’m a big girl now, really.)

Because the mud run is midday for me, I decided just to throw on my clothes after my four mile run and shower this morning.

Look! I have bathroom vanity doors again! To be fair, I’ve always had them. I finally decided to finish them. Half hearted, because they didn’t turn out as well as I want, but still. And that’s my dog Beau. He likes to photobomb. It’s how he rolls. Even better, this photo doesn’t show the tire in my abdomen I’ve been carrying around for the past couple months.

I’m also planning on wearing contacts and slathering on the sun screen.

My husband asked me why I was wearing black, particularly because for the first time this season it’s supposed to hit 90 degrees in the valley. I wouldn’t be so upset about the heat if we had actually had a winter. We didn’t, for real. I had about 10 days where I had to wear my Nike thermal compression shirts underneath my clothes, but that’s it.

We didn’t even have a lot of rain until a couple weeks ago. So summer temperatures this early? Not cool.

I’m hoping the mud isn’t too warm today.

But I’m outfitted for this run. Am I ready? Maybe not.

I mentioned that last night and was told that I’m making other people nervous. But really, I don’t know what to expect. Besides mud. I expect mud. But what else? Can I really climb a wall? Can I handle the monkey bars? Will my thumb continue to be a problem?

I only have a couple hours before I find out. The clock is ticking…

Apr 20

Getting mud run ready

It’s time.

After months of not training for the mud run that I’m doing tomorrow, it’s happening.

I have to say, my training lately has been sub par. And I’m supposed to run a tough 21-miler in Big Sur next weekend. Yikes.

I have an inkling of what to expect on Saturday.

I even bought some new clothes as to not have to destroy my Lululemon or Nike gear. I found some seriously cheap clothes to get dirty which, hopefully, will clean up well after.

Now I’m scared.

The number I was assigned doesn’t help.

I’ve read reviews about the toughness of the course, despite it only being 3.47 miles. I’ve read that, in one area, runners can experience some claustrophobia. That kind of scares me a little. The whole getting dirty part also does too.

And I’ve been freaking out all week about what I’m going to wear. I’ll write a more extensive post about the conundrum of that tomorrow. I just finished an eight-mile run on the treadmill. Now I’m whipped. And ready for bed.

And so glad my wave of the mud run doesn’t happen until 2:15 tomorrow.

I’m sure I won’t sleep well, though. I think I’m more nervous about this race than I’ve been at any lately.

Hopefully the nerves translate into a cool start at the race tomorrow when the temperature is high (it’s expected to me in the 90s in Lathrop).

Ugh. I hate nerves.

Apr 15

On tired legs

This is probably the most unflattering photo of my legs ever, particularly because they look extremely thick. It’s the angle, I promise. My legs are actually very trim.

I ran eight very hard miles on my treadmill yesterday morning. That should have told me that I wouldn’t be able to launch into the double digits today. But I went out to Mountain House to run with Jennie anyway.

We got three miles. And then I came home and ran another on the treadmill. Just to make it to the 20 for the week and 55 for the month.

My legs are tired. It’s likely because I’ve had a very tiring week. I’m refusing to use the change in diet as an excuse. My legs are just tired. And today it really showed.

So we ran a little, as the sun went down. The trail through Mountain House surrounds a nice marshy, preserved area. Today, the water was incredibly high. We’ve have a lot of rain later.

By the time I said goodbye to Jennie, it was too dark to shoot a photo of the water.

So I tried to get the sunset.

I took quite a few days off this week, so maybe my legs will recover quickly. Today, though, I just kind of dragged when I ran.

 

Apr 14

Making better choices

I’m pretty sure Lululemon did a ton of research when considering the “manifesto” to put on the bags you get at the store and withe everyone online order. I’m currently alternating between a black bag and a red bag for my carrying my lunch to work. I have a lunch bag that keeps things cool, but I now have a refrigerator/microwave in my office at school.

Plus, the Lululemon bags are much cuter than that one.

And it screams “I work out! Yes I do!” to everyone who cares. Which is likely no one at either job.

But I digress.

I saw the featured part of my bag the other day, about stress being related to illness. My first thought: “Oh yeah.”

I mentioned in my somewhat more open previous post that I had a stomach issue that forced me to have an unplanned surgery in July 2010. I’ll explain more.

I had pain. Horrible pain. For about two years, I just kept letting it go. It would come at night mostly. It would hit me hard. I thought it was kidney stones.

Kidney stones run in my family. So it made sense. I had tests run. Lots of test. Lots of uncomfortable peeing in a cup. Yep, I said it.

I had a bunch of blood tests too. Not as many as when I diagnosed with high blood sugar a few years before. But many. No root cause. Nothing that would indicate a condition underlying.

“Perhaps you should consider that the pain is a physical manifestation of your stress,” the doctor said.

“Seriously?” I said, half astonished, half sarcastic.

It was and wasn’t in the end. Surgery proved that.

Still, it made me think.

Stress. Ah, stress.

I’ve spent most of my recent life in some sort of stage of stress. I pushed myself to graduate from college in three years. I’m still not sure how I did it.

In graduate school, I developed an ulcer from the stress of working on my masters project and running, quickly, out of money (thanks Grandma for saving me! If it wasn’t for her unexpected checks here and there, wrapped in tinfoil for a reason only own to her, I wouldn’t have made it to my summer internship in Dallas).

Then I took a job with no time off between it and my internship. And I immediately plunged into wedding planning. For eight months I came home and planned during my off hours from work. Moved into a rental house 25+ miles from my job two days before the wedding. Then had to adjust to the commute.

Then we bought a house.

Stress. Yes. I know stress well.

But last night and today, I officially decided my new mantra is “make better choices.”

In life. In fitness. In my goals.

How did I start? With a strawberry Chobani yogurt for breakfast. A Weight Watchers lunch. And pretzel chip snacks.

I’m getting a little hungry, but I’m making it through.

Today, I start making better choices in general.

That means not going for a run to make a quota, but because my body wants to. Today I slept in and got up and ran eight miles on the treadmill. Every step I wanted to stop (because my legs are more tired than usual), but I didn’t. I kept going.

I started this blog to share my views on running. I’ve been reluctant to really get into anything about my diet or my weight just because I didn’t feel as if it would “fit” here.

Well, it’s my blog and I can complain if I want to. I’m not changing the theme, I’m adding more variety.

It makes sense to me. So I’ve added a category, the first in a long while: “Making better choices.”

So here I start. Today and tomorrow and on and on are about making better choices. I’m hoping to continue my path by going to the store with my husband this evening. We haven’t been for awhile together. Either or the other goes. But when we used to go together, we’d eat better.

I want to start that again.

And it’s a step, right?

Apr 13

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It’s not really about the shoes (and other weighty issues)

Today, I bought a pair of shoes. They are a deep teal color and oh so perfect. The moment I put them on, it felt like heaven on my feet. So comfortable. They were $85. And I immediately felt guilty buying them.

It’s not because I’m in debt and the money needed to go somewhere else. In fact, I’ve been making extra payments on my student loans recently in an attempt to get them down. It’s not even because I felt somewhat bad buying something nice for myself.

It’s because buying shoes means something than entirely different to me than it does to most people.

It means I’ve gained more weight than I should have.

I hopped on the scale when I cam home today. I had just eaten. I weighed 174 pounds.

I can’t help but feel like a failure.

Two years ago when I was fed up with my weight I was nearly 200 pounds. I ran my ass off over a four month period, literally. I ate right with the help of Weight Watchers online. My weight bottomed out at 154. For the first time in a long time, I was happy.

My face had thinned (which is good because any weight gain for me automatically means my face balloons). My arms had too. I hadn’t looked that good in years. Really. It was life changing, game changing.

I followed the plan really well until sometime in May. Then, life happened.

My husband and I bought our first home. The day we moved in, I got a call to interview for the part-time position at the college I now teach at. It took us more than three months to settle into our new lives in a new house. For me it meant a somewhat longer commute, now across town before I got on the freeway. Lots of changes.

Then a very unplanned surgery for pain I’d been having in my abdomen for some time. It needed to happen. But I let it go and go until on the days it was bad, every step I took was excruciating. That set my running back for about six weeks. It also was my “fall of the wagon” moment.

I’m ashamed to say, I never got back on.

The two jobs didn’t help. I was crazy taking a part-time job when my full-time job was already stressful.  My diet got way out of whack. I wake up at a different time. My schedule is never the same from day to day. My husband has a hard time keeping track of me.

I have excuses.

Lots.

And I didn’t need the shoes.

I already have lots. (This is only one snapshot of my closest. I have lots and lots of boxes.)

I bought the shoes because shoes are kind of one size fits all. That size for me is an 8 1/2. Whether I gain or lose weight, the shoes will fit. (I have flat feet, inherited from my grandfather along with a predisposition to diabetes).

One size fits all. No matter how round my stomach is. No matter how fat my arms get.

I realized it almost immediately.

Probably because I headed over to Old Navy and started looking a shirts. Specifically a striped shirt. That’s not bright for a girl whose curves now seem over exaggerated and out of focus, wrongly proportioned.

I settled on two shirts that would hide my belly and cover my arms.

And a tank top. Because wearing a tank top under my shirt helps smooth out my belly hanging over my jeans.

I’ve failed myself.

Because this wasn’t the first thing I bought for myself with the same mentality.

A couple weeks ago it was a scarf at Target. I grabbed a bracelet somewhere else.

On payday this week, I bought a necklace.

It’s never about the shoes. There’s something much deeper at work here.

I need to drop those 20 pounds. I need to get back to where I was two years ago. I need to do better.

I need to make better choices.

Because right now I’m buying accessories to avoid buying clothes. I’m wearing cotton shirts and avoiding all other clothes because I need strength and comfort.

I’ve tried and failed in the past three weeks to start back on Weight Watcher again. I keep making up excuses about how I need more food in me to run, how I’ve have no energy if I don’t have the extra taco, etc.

But the truth is, I need to do better.

My wallet will thank me. But my body will too.

Here’s to finding a path back to 154.

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