Hitting The Wall

Alternate Title: The Great Slam Into the Wall

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Well, I wouldn’t…because the wall presented itself, and I chose to slam into it rather than climb over it or knock it down. I was finally seeing results. Lost a few pounds, felt great in class, overall good spirit…and then I lost my forward momentum. It may have been the time change. For some reason, it really hit me hard this year. Exhausted by 6? Unusual. Falling asleep after 9? Not so out-of-the-ordinary. I got a little sick, even had to get a sub for my Tuesday Pedal Power class one week, and ate horribly. Lots of candy and sweets.

This past week, I made a conscious decision to get back in the groove. I needed that low to remind myself that I like how I feel when I’m working out and making wise food decisions. I become sluggish and cranky when my eating and/or exercise are out of sorts. I definitely let “the wall” own me. The frustration of slow progress, the anxiety of planning meals, the mere consumption of time…it wasn’t hard to let that become overwhelming and ultimately defeat me for a while. I recognize my mistakes, but no good will come from dissecting every poor decision I made or longing for that lost time. For now…onward and upward.

Yesterday was a major turning point. A former elementary girl now attends the middle school I work at. She happened to be on my Girls on the Run team, and participates in Girls on Track (the middle school program, obviously) this year. Their big 5K is on December 12, and she requested me for her Running Buddy. I took time to onsider the offer, and ultimately decided to take the plunge and do it. I believe I have professed my hatred on more than one occasion through this blog, and certainly verbally. Well, after the intention of starting the first week of November…I took my first run in about 4 years. One loop around our neighborhood is .44 miles. The last time I remember doing this (I think it happened once before…), I made it almost once around the loop, then became alarmingly aware of the heavy wheezing sound emitting from my mouth and the terrible aches and pains shoot up my legs, not to mention the awkward plodding motion I was considering to be my jogging pace. Thus ended the desire to ever run again. Now, with all the spin classes and workouts I’ve been teaching and doing, I considered that my performance would improve slightly, but I gave myself a healthy dose of reality and did not raise my expectations.

The beginning was rocky, at best. My first trudging steps were heavy and uncomfortable. Running is such a foreign concept! Luckily, Blink 182 rocked me through the first half of the loop. “Say it ain’t so, I will not go…” and soon, one lap turned into two. Still feeling frisky – wait, I felt frisky?! I didn’t want to collapse in a heaving pile…it MUST have been frisky-ness! – I bounced on. Well, that second lap evolved into three, and three into four. All during the fourth lap, I felt that I could continue, but I knew that I’d be rocking my joints rather hard and spin class would be very miserable with a sore instructor. I decided to continue into a fifth lap…yes, that means I was approaching 2 miles of unadultered plodding jog. Along the last straightaway, I picked up my pace. Who was this person consuming my body? Was I actually becoming Wonder Woman?! Then…in a glorious display, I finished my excursion with a sprint. Yes. This was a speed only reached by small children on big wheels. I finished the rest of the loop with a brisk walked and stretched out in our backyard.

Naturally, by the end of Saturday, the evidence of my exertion was in each attempt to sit down or stand up. Thankfully, there are no steps to use in our little home. The Chad, of course, was impressed (see also: shocked) by this effort on my behalf. After the initial accolades, he reminded me that I would need to continue this practice in order to be prepared for the 5K. Damn.

Luckily, I wasn’t as sore as I anticipated this morning, and Pedal Power had a rockin’ playlist. I promise to post that ASAP. To top off this banner weekend, The Chad and I were cleaning out some rooms, and I made chicken and spaghetti squash. Oh, spaghetti squash…how I love thee. And I love that I get to eat most of it all by myself because The Chad will not eat something that tries to disguise itself as pasta.

So, one wall down. Hopefully there’s a little reprieve before the next one pops up.

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