So, not much news on the babyweight front. I think a few more pounds have come off, but they seem to reappear every once in awhile, so I'm not going to get too excited.
But I thought I would report that, in light of the recent babyweight stalemate and our upcoming beach trip (in 2 weeks we will be at Pawleys Island with some of my favorite people in the whole entire world, and I cannot wait!), I've decided to mix it up a bit and start running again, and I'm trying limit my carbs a little.
As for the running, I should probably explain my use of the word "run." If you're reading this and have ever seen me "run," you probably already know what I'm about to say. Despite my high school friends' habit of calling me Forrest Gump, my college phase of running long distances at random times alone (oh, how I miss the days when I could run in the dark, to a place I've never been, without fear of loss of life and/or limb), and my two completed half-marathons, I am NOT a "runner" and I harbor no pretension about this. At most, I am a jogger. But, probably most accurately, I am a shuffler. I am slow, and my feet hardly come off the ground. You know those really old people who "run" by walking fast and moving their arms quickly and emphatically? I'm about 2 paces ahead of them, and probably only because of pride and my competitive nature. After seeing me "run," my brother in law coined my awesome nickname, Shuffles, and not even I could argue - it was completely fitting. Dang it.
But for this post, I'm probably going to use the term running, at least most of the time. Because it flows better than jogging or shuffling. And, it sounds way more awesome.
Here is video proof of my shuffling - I'm the one in the gray running tights with the white shirt on and the green shirt tied around my waist (p.s. this is the only proof I did the St. Jude Marathon in 2007 - I'm pretty sure that Scott had the settings messed up on the camera and meant to take a picture. Or, hey, maybe he really wanted a video of my glorious shuffling):
Beautiful, isn't it? (and by beautiful, I mean terrible. Even Scott admits it. This shuffling video is awful.)
Although I tore my acl when I was 14 and skiing above my skill level to impress some boys, I can't really blame that, as it has been a problem my whole life. At one point my dad wanted me to get a running coach to help me out with sports, as both soccer and softball were pretty much impossible because of my turtle-like speed, and my tendency to trip over my own feet and get distracted by shiny things. I am a beacon of athleticism.
Anyway, when I was pregnant, I gave up running. I was completely and inexplicably paranoid about the bouncing effects on a fetus (which is truly idiotic, given the fact that many women run marathons while pregnant), tired, and probably too busy eating. Whatever it was, it just wasn't my priority.
And when I went to my six-week OB visit after Bailey's birth, my OB was a bit reluctant about my plans to start running. While she didn't necessarily discourage me, she told me it would probably be better to start after I'd lost the next 10 pounds (I was only down 25 out of 52 pounds at that point). My first instinct was to ignore this advice - I mean, have you seen the Biggest Loser? These people are 100, if not 200 pounds heavier than me, and THEY freaking run. But, in all honesty, when I tried to run for even a few steps, it felt all jiggly and awkward and awful. So, I took her advice to heart. Maybe because I'm a little bit lazy.
So, the first time I tried to jog was before Easter, when we were in Louisville. I had no other option - when I'm at home, we have an almost-gym-ready elliptical in our cardboard box apartment, which I insisted we get before we even thought about to get pregnant, as the elliptical was pretty much my exclusive gym activity when I was "skinny" (at least, skinny enough - that's a whole other post). Thankfully, my wonderfully husband gave in after I insisted this was a necessity to having kids, and I use it daily, just like I did at the gym. While I am a huge fan, it had become something of a crutch, and I needed to mix it up.
So, in Louisville, I had no crutch, and, for summary - here's what happened, as documented in the texts to and from my sister right afterward:
Yes, I jogged for 37 minutes. Then walked for 12. Then jogged for 12. The entire time, I ignored the shooting pains in my right knee - I mean, it was my LEFT knee that had the torn acl in 1995, so what could the problem be?
Well, as my genius sister was smart enough to know from the beginning and as I figured out pretty quick, when I could barely walk three hours later, I definitely bit off more than I could chew that first time out on the running front. It was so weird, I was literally limping on my right knee. That night, we went looking for a new, big girl car seat for Bailey, and I was hobbling around Babies R Us with Tracy and Scott like a crazy, vulgar old woman, randomly crying out in pain, and whining like a B about the pain. They made fun of me humored me, and were more patient than I ever would have been, and thank goodness, the terrible pain in my right knee was gone the next morning (after B made me wake up 17 times that night to her crying because she was sleeping in the pack n' play and she's not used to it. Can't wait for the beach.)
So - my new running plan. I started with 20 mins, because I did that easily and it didn't make me hobble and complain like a crazy lady. At first, I planned to start slowly, and add a minute a day, but since I have no sense of moderation or self-control (even when wine isn't involved), I have since gone up 5 minutes a day, and I'm up to 35 minutes already after starting this weekend. Even though I'm trying to say we won't be here, as we hopefully will have moved to Knoxville - I'm not going to rule out a run at the St. Jude Half-Marathon again this year. And if, by some amazing miracle, we make it back to East TN, I would love to do the Strawberry Plains half again. We shall see!
I'm also trying to cut out some carbs. In all honesty, the only eating/exercise plan that has ever worked for me has been to eat whatever I want (with some severe portion control) and to exercise off whatever excess I eat.
But I think I'm eating too many chips, and probably not portioning correctly. And at this point, I need all the help I can get. Because these 20 pounds are not going to lose themselves, and I'm at my breaking point. It's just TIME. So, here goes~
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