Monthly Archives: August 2015

Uncategorized

Grains of Sand

Sometimes, life is a challenge. Not the ‘one big challenge’ but several small challenges that simply wear us down. I’m asking myself, in the frequent conversations with me and myself, “How do I respond to these challenges?”

Scenario: For several months I had a small bump on my forehead – right in the middle, front and center – where a bike helmet would rub, or a cap or visor band would, too. I thought it was a zit, or an irritation, but it didn’t go away, and it started to get bigger. Frugal me didn’t want to spend $25 to see my primary care physician, but after about five months, I did. He referred me to a dermatologist who collected another $50 co-pay and $90 more for a biopsy.

After walking around for another week looking like I took a rock hit to the dome, I received the call. Basal cell carcinoma. OK. I live in the desert southwest. Anyone who lives here long enough is probably going to have a BCC spot. It’s really not a big deal. Really. But it’s still sort of weird. Still feels kind of scary. Still have to have surgery to get it all removed. On my face.

So each little thought is a grain of sand: how much is this going to cost, will they cure it, are there more spots, is my face going to be a mess, will it hurt, how much time off work will I miss, how much time will I have to take off from training, I just spent $145 to register for El Tour de Tucson, will I be able to train enough to ride well, will I get stitches, will I get headaches, what if it comes back again? Before I know it, my head is pounding and I feel the grains of sand filling up the space behind my eyes, the pressure seeking release, but no tears. Just that ‘my face must surely be showing this’ can’t cry, don’t know if I want to cry, maybe I should cry countenance. No current resolution. To be continued.

Gym Time

Why I Have a Trainer

Yes, I have a personal trainer. His name is Daniel, he’s 27 and super cute. I see him twice a week, and it’s a love/love relationship. I love his personality, the fun we have and how much he helps me grow. And I admit I love the way he kicks my butt. I’ve always been drawn to challenges.

I started playing sports in 7th grade at the small Catholic school I attended. We had a fierce Catholic school sports league in my hometown, and my tiny school was often league champion in both boys and girls sports. I’ve also had ferocious asthma since the day I was born. (I’ll write more about my dad later, but all credit goes to my dad for not allowing me to be the ‘sick kid’ but instead, take charge of the asthma and not let it wreck me.) Anyway, the point is, I’ve been athletic most of my life.

I played HS volleyball, basketball, softball, track, and even badminton. I started in Judo in 9th grade and then Tang Soo Do (Korean Karate) when I was 19. I competed in both Judo and Karate until my son started school in 1986. I ran for fun and did 5K/10Ks until the turn of the century when I trained for my first marathon. Since then, I’ve competed in marathon, 1/2 marathon, triathlon and cycling events. I’m a seasoned veteran. So why a trainer? Even trainers have trainers. Here’s why:

  • We don’t know everything. No matter how experienced, we can and should learn new things
  • He or she will show us what we’re ‘doing wrong’ and correct our form and technique
  • We like comfort and our ‘rut’. A trainer will push us out of our comfort zone and somehow get us to do things we thought were impossible. I would not do squats, lunges or dead-lifts on my own. I just wouldn’t
  • We take the workout seriously when we’re paying for it. We show up when we have an appointment and we don’t skip or slack
  • We share our goals and our trainer will create a program specifically designed to meet those goals
  • They help us with nutrition and diet, making us accountable for what we consume
  • They come up with crazy, fresh and fun ways to work out that we can’t even imagine – until we do it
  • They celebrate our victories and encourage us to be our best!
Food, Uncategorized

The Summer Food Blues

Why is it that when the training is spectacular and glorious and I feel like a straight up beast, the nutrition is all wacky and subject to multiple personality disorder? Why can’t the intake and the output be at maximum efficiency at the same time? I’m hitting my ‘working bench press’ (for me that means about four sets of 15-20 reps) at 105 lbs. That feels really good. My cycling is pretty strong and I just completed a +45 mile ride at 7,000 ft elevation and didn’t die.

But this crystal bowl etched with a map of the continents and filled with mini York Peppermint Patties, Rollo’s, and Peanut Butter Cups won’t stop running through my mind. I took that bowl from my office across the building to a training room…and I still can’t stop thinking about walking over there to grab a handful of Rollo’s. I work out really hard. I train A LOT. But I need to lose at least fifteen pounds. And I’m not doing it. The adage is true, “You can’t out-exercise a bad diet.”

So what do I do? Do I give in and go ‘hog’ wild? Just eat all the candy and sweets I can fit in my mouth? Do I grit my teeth with forced determination and discipline, refusing any kind of ‘bad’ food? Honestly, right now, neither. I’m trying to give myself some grace, and live with some balance. That means three – ok six – Rollo’s and then that salad with turkey breast for lunch. Here’s my message for you today. Don’t beat yourself up because you’re not at 7% body fat. Don’t stress about your imperfections. But…do something. Make some – even tiny – change. Go for a walk. Go to the gym. I belong to three different ones. I can hook you up. Eat a few green vegetables and some fruit. Drink a cup of black coffee, but skip the soda. And if you feel like you gotta have them, pop a Rollo or two.