1. Go do it and not pay attention to time – which would basically require me to leave my Garmin at home.
2. Do a loop where I could cut it short if I started to feel desperate.
3. Split the run into 6 on Saturday and 6 on Sunday.
4. Skip it.
I figured with all those options I’d work something out.
Saturday morning I got up at 4:30 and spent an hour drinking coffee then drinking water. My stomach was not cooperative so I didn’t manage get anything to eat down. As I contemplated running or not I realized that if I missed this long run, it would be the only one I’ve missed during the entire 12 week training schedule and I just couldn’t get myself to quite let go. I decided to take off for the run with the idea that I would do “only” 6 miles if necessary. After warming up and getting my legs looser I felt like I could go longer. Since I had eliminated Option 1, I was wearing my Garmin and was able to adjust my route. When I finally got to the point where I could go straight and go home thereby cutting the run short, or take the left for a bit over 12 miles, I went straight. Though conditions were just about perfect (65 degrees, low humidity), I wasn’t “feeling” the run. So, I slogged out 11 miles in the end, instead of 12. Actually with my warmup and cooldown (not tracked on Garmin) I did around 11.5. From all my running experience, I know this was fine. So now, this week is the taper with much less running and my race on Saturday.
As I mentioned it was a gorgeous around here this weekend. After the long run and getting the house chores done, Mr. Helen and I decided to head for the beach. Just can’t pass up picture perfect conditions!
As we relaxed on the beach I got a text message from a friend. Cell service is funky at the beach - literally you might have service if you’re standing up, but not if you’re sitting down. Or if your phone is point west instead of east. Anyway, I wanted to answer the text and I had to stand up to do it. As I stood there typing, in my peripheral vision I could see Mr. Helen looking at me very intently. Huh, what’s up with that?
I sent the text off and lay back down on my blanket and he said, “Lanc (one of his nicknames for me), you’re looking pretty slim in that bathing suit.” Oh, so that’s why he was looking at me so hard. My brain is shooting off danger signals and telling me I need to tread lightly here, because my weight and dieting has resulted in quite intense conversations for us in the past. “Well thank you,” I replied. He says, “I think you’ve lost some weight but it doesn’t seem like you’re dieting lately.” That statement opened the door and led us into a discussion about my decision a few weeks ago to stop counting every calorie that went into my mouth. I said it loud and I said it proud: “I know this may not make you happy, or make you think I'm giving up trying to get my slimmer self back, but I cannot live like that any more. It was exhausting me. I had reached the stage where I was fighting everything: my thyroid, my food, my emotions. If this is the size my body is supposed to be, then so be it. I’m trying to make reasonable food choices and be healthy and eat when I’m hungry. If I happen to lose weight, great, if not I’m going to be OK with that too.”
“Good for you! You have no idea how happy I am to hear this. This is the best thing I think I’ve heard come out of your mouth. I am so glad you are letting go of all the years of dieting and feeling like you weren’t OK. You’re OK and I just want you to be happy.”
You could have knocked me over with a feather.
The really interesting thing about that whole conversation is this: In the past if he was eating something and offered it to me and I said no he wouldn’t let up until I took a bite. Since Saturday, all I’ve had to say is no thank you, I’m really not hungry, and he let it go.
So, my weekend was full of victories: exercise, food, marital and emotional. What more could I ask for, really?