Things That Motivate Us

What motivates you? This is something I try to figure out about myself quite a bit. I even took a test that would tell me what "motivational type" I am, since procrastination seems to be my favorite pastime. I'll find the results of that later to share.

The answer came today in the form of a graduation party for my friend Tanya (pictured left, procrastinating with me last year -- or eating crabs, one of the two) and on the right in high school, before I discovered wine. Let's hope my preference in eyewear, bathing suits and reading material have improved with age. My decision to attend her graduation party was an easy one. Life is just too short to miss these events.

The party is in Maryland on May 23rd, where there will be yet another pool involved. You know what that means.....pool + drinking = potential spontaneous cannonball and that would lead up to the two most dreaded little words known to woman: Bathing Suit. Eek. Although the alternative, which is "no bathing suit," would be a lot worse, especially for party-goers. No sooner did I hit the "buy ticket" button on the Southwest website, did those two words fill my mind, and anxiety start to set in.

So now I have exactly five weeks to try to get into somewhat better shape so that I don't ruin any of her graduation pictures. No chance of that happening with my mother's camera, considering she mostly takes pictures of her fingers. However, like at most "monumental events" in a person's life, there will surely be photographs from all angles and in most angles at the moment, I have a double chin -- not more than a Chinese phone book, but at least one that needs to go, and heaven forbid if someone catches this porker in a bathing suit with a camera. Not in the world where Facebook has taken over.....No way - it cannot happen. More stress.

Now with motivation on my side (or panic as the case may be), I came back to the little townhouse home-away-from-home gym tonight after work and tried out something that we were discussing today in the office: interval training. I started out at a good trot of 4.5 mph on the treadmill for one minute, revved it up to 5.5 mph for two minutes after that, one minute of 6.0 mph followed and in the end, one minute of 7.0 (which is almost a sprint for me), then back down to 4.5 mph again to do the sequence all over again. When I got back to the 4.5 mph (and could breathe again), I took my heart rate and at one point it was up to 180 -- I'm surprised I didn't pass out and fly off the back of the treadmill. 35 minutes and 3.25 miles later -- talk about sweat. I might just be onto something. Tomorrow I might get a kettlebell, which could help ramp up the progress a little bit. I even toyed with the idea of doing the Master Cleanse again if I get really desperate. That's still in the back of my head, although drinking immediately after coming off of that detox might prove to be deadly. Plus, I still can't even think about maple syrup from the last time I attempted it.

New plan of attack - working out more, drinking less wine (if any), and in five weeks - hopefully will be 10 pounds down. This is going to be quite a challenge since I will be Chicago next week for a conference -- which usually consists of more eating and drinking than humanly possible. Will pack my running shoes, keep the big picture in mind and hope for the best.

Crazy Little Thing Called Mud

Sunday started out rather lazily - as Sundays should. Trying to get motivated and waiting for the coffee to give me a burst of caffeine induced energy that never came, I tried to plan something "active" for the day. According to my body bugg, I have to burn about 2200 calories per day and consume less than 1300 in order to reach my goal weight by May 31.  Rather difficult when you factor in that wine probably takes up half of my calorie allotment any given weekend day. That, and the fact that my fat cells are conspiring against me.

My fat cell conspiracy theory, however, is a whole nother story, so we'll stick to the day at hand. Since procrastination is my middle name, I did everything I could to avoid getting my butt in gear. I took the furry ones outside to run off some energy, and hit golf balls into the back 40 (lost about 10 of them). Finally when I couldn't think of another reason not to pack up my gear and head out, I decided to soak in the nicest Central Oregon day we've seen in a while and take Kooper for a hike. 

We ended up at the Deschutes River Trail with all good intentions of hiking to Dillon Falls - as the sign says, a mere 3.5 mile one-way hike.  That would burn those evil calories in no time. Heck, if I have enough of a deficit, it's justification of a post-hike glass of wine. That's motivation to keep on trudging.

We couldn't have ordered up a better day if we tried. The temperature was in the low 60's with nothing but blue skies and sunshine. My usual reluctant hiking companion was busy sniffing out the menagerie of smells left behind by other hikers and their dogs, and it seemed like a great hiking day was in the making.

Getting down the path a ways, we ran into the hazard of early Spring hiking: mud, and lots of it. Run-off from the melting snow created giant mud holes all along the trail. Add the vast number of people who also had the same brilliant idea that we did - to get out and enjoy the gorgeous day - and what you ended up with in the long run is a muddy mess. I knew I should have gotten those Gore-tex trail hikers at the Nike outlet when I had the chance.

Not to be deterred, we made our way to Benham Falls - .5 miles into the hike - where we decided we'd poke around a bit and check out the beautiful scenery that we're so fortunate to have practically in our back yard. Here we are, trying to get the whole timer thing right, unsuccessfully. The falls were the other direction -- we could hear them, just not see them at that point.

Despite the mud on the path, we (I say this as if Kooper has a choice in the matter) decided to trudge on to our intended target - Dillon Falls.  The further we went, the muddier it got. I should have packed those boots that clammers wear when they go out clam digging. Kooper sunk almost up to his chest (happily, I might add) at one point and that was it. I didn't need to try to pull a "Man vs. Wild" moment in order to save him from a giant muddy sink hole. In my mind, I could already read the headlines in the Bend Bulletin tomorrow -- "Local woman's fat cells conspiracy finally pays off - she sinks in giant mud hole (ass first) trying to save her dog -- Dog fine - Film at 11." 

A few more minutes down the path and no hope of solid ground in site - we had to turn back and make a break for it. My little pig dog, who loves the mud, was not pleased. He'd rather wallow in it, given the chance.

We made our way back to the car - both of us muddy messes, when I let Kooper get take his first plunge into the Deschutes River, which as a Labrador is his birth rite. As soon as his butt hit the water he turned into "wild dog" and was ready to swim down the river after a couple of unsuspecting ducks, almost pulling Mom (and all of my gadets) in with him. At least it washed off most of the mud.

All mud holes aside, hopefully this weather holds out and it's finally the beginning of Spring. I've said that before, only to be shocked by a number of freak snow storms after 60 degree days. Fingers crossed. Until then, we'll plan out all of our Spring and Summer hikes. Driving out of today's hiking spot, I noticed a lot of "trail" signs on the side of the road. There's a lot of ground to cover, apparently and we are up for the challenge. Our goal: South Sister Hike by September.

Favorite Running Accessories

After running for any length of time, you start to figure out little things that you think will make your runs a little more bearable. One of my biggest challenges is trying to keep my hair out of my face. I know this sounds rather trivial, but trust me, if you have a lot of hair then you know what I'm talking about. It's downright annoying. No matter what, my hair normally finds a way to wiggle its way out of any contraption I can find to try to keep it pulled back.

There's been a lot of trial and error in finding a device that doesn't slip down, come undone or, in the worst case scenario, fall off completely. I'm uncoordinated as it is - trying to readjust a headband while jogging proves to be quite a challenge on a moving treadmill (definite running hazard). A headband, I found, has been the best to keep the bangs at bay, but nothing I've stumbled upon seems to work with much success. Most are just way too thin to keep the mass quantity of hair I have where it's supposed to be.

So, a couple of weeks ago when I was out stimulating the economy single-handedly, I picked up a buff from REI that claimed to actually stay in place. There was a picture of rather active looking women with more hair than I have, frolicking around -- "in motion" with the buff firmly in place. I picked one up off the rack, and haven't looked back. Until tonight that is. 

On the treadmill, cruising along at a nice pace, I looked up (they are cruel enough to put a mirror wall in front of the cardio equipment), I caught a glimpse of myself and realized that I looked a lot that guy from Loverboy. Seriously, no one should go out of the house looking like that. I was surrounded by possible part-time neighbors. Embarrassing. I'm thinking we're sure to be evicted.

Finishing up my 5k, in record breaking time, by the way, I mosey'd back to my home away from home, feeling rather self conscience. A few minutes after settling down, I proceed to chat away with a friend who wants to log on to see any progress I've made via video -- he's tech savvy like that. No way, I say. Not while I'm still in my dorky doo-rag, not to mention sweaty. The only thing worse than the look of a rather wrongly situated buff is taking off the buff and having "buff head." This is not to be confused with butt-head, mind you. Either way, there is no glamour there what-so-ever.

So my new find is great for the task at hand - getting the hair out of my face. It is, however, bad for making a fashion statement, which really is what running is all about. No? My next run is scheduled for Friday when I will be a the Treehouse where over-alls are the fashion statement of choice. And since tomorrow is Thursday, and I am working up to my run on Friday -- consider me "working for the weekend." Oh come on, sing it - you know you want to.

What's Next?

With the Shamrock Run behind us, it's time to start thinking about what the next great event will be to keep my running momentum alive. I write this as I sit with a glass of Korbel Rouge Champagne, so possibly I'm feeling a bit over-ambitious but will regain my senses as soon as the champagne wears off.

So what's next? I've been thinking about this for a few days. My girlfriend Tanya wants to run in a 10k the day after her graduation party (doesn't sound like the best timing for running a 10k......no?). Ross has been sniffing around the Bridge to Brews 10k site, although it seems a little too ambitious, considering it's right around the corner on the 18th of April. I'm thinking of something with more of a view for the next run (even more motivation). Although maybe that's a bit over zealous. I'd run straight to the first swim up bar I could find.

Believe my new goal is going to be to beat my previous 5k times and just get a bit faster before moving on to the torture of going longer distances. The first 5k will be easy to beat, considering we were passed by giant running beers. I'll beat those Guinnesses next year for sure. Sara and I are committed to the Doggie Dash - which is only 2.5 miles, so it should be do-able with our beasts in tow. Kooper is gearing up for it already.

There's not a lack of 5k's to choose from, whether it's in Bend or Portland or anywhere in between. On my list this summer will be the Pacific Crest 5k which is close to home in Sunriver, which works out very well, considering I can keep running to Sunriver Resort and the spa when the race is over. Bonus. Shortly thereafter, the Deschutes Dash 5k comes down the pipeline, and that looks like a must-do event.

If all goes well, an 8k by the end of summer would probably be a realistic goal. Next year I plan on doing the Cascade Lakes Relay, providing I can find 8 - 10 more folks who embrace my insanity and agree. More R&D required. Getting off my butt is also required. So is getting past my lameness of blowing off running when I know I should -- instead of drinking champagne. But, let's face it, champagne is so much more fun.

Onward & upward. Let the training begin...I mean continue. I'll toast to that.

Shamrock Run - Portland

It started out as a rather harrowing morning when the alarm clock rung out and shook me into reality. It was a cold, sunless Sunday with the wind whipping the rain in every direction. The morning progressively got better when I found an awaiting text message on my phone from my fellow 5k runner Sara that said, "Dude - it's pouring rain. I can't run in this." After a bit of persuasion, okay, a lot of persuasion and a promise of coffee that wasn't fulfilled, I coaxed her into coming downtown to the starting point of the race to make a decision on whether or not we'd partake in this year's Shamrock Run. It was still two hours away.

Driving downtown, I thought for sure no one would show up for this event. I mean, who would be insane enough to put themselves through the sideways blowing, freezing rain to run -- on purpose? We picked up the t-shirts yesterday (my motivation for running, anyway). But when I parked the car and started to walk to towards the park where the participants were gathering, there were people everywhere -- dressed up in their best St. Patrick's Day garb, some with strollers and kids in tow, others with giant beer hats on their heads and lots and lots of green. Yes, Portlanders are die hards, apparently. It didn't seem like the weather had deterred anyone from venturing out.

And here we are -- three of the some 20,000 runners that braved the weather to run. That's my co-worker Ross in the smart, shiny yellow jacket (he is the only 'die hard' of the group, by the way) and Ms. Sara, 5k neophyte and reluctant rain runner. Trust me when I say, that smile is all fake as she was not pleased to be out in the elements...can't you tell? I'm the only dork wearing an ear bud (note to self: remove all visible gadgets before photos).

With the thought of victory beers at the finish line in mind, we lined up with everyone else and prepared for take off. It was a sea of people. As we stood there waiting for the signal, it started to pour rain and when the horn finally blew to kick off the race, the crowd took off -- into a walk that is. Congestion prevented anyone from really moving too quickly. After a while the wall of people spread out a bit and we were able to break into a slow jog, but the vast amount of bodies was difficult to maneuver. Our go was slow but, eventually, we were making decent time around the streets of Portland. I learned that the one thing the treadmill doesn't really prepare you for is the little fact of life called "hills." And yes, there were a couple of hills in this 5k, but Sara decided she would only run downhill, so that kind of took care of that factor.

On the approach to the final turn heading to the home stretch, we were actually passed by a giant running Guinness. And there he goes..... I attempted to catch up with him but he was simply too fast for me and not even a giant running beer could get Sara to initiate a chase.

We finally crossed the finish line and migrated our drowned rat selves to the tent that had the reward for all of our hard work of the morning -- the post-run beer. Leave it to the city of Portland to have a beer company as a sponsor of what should otherwise be a healthy event -- it doesn't get much better than that. The 9 a.m. post-run breakfast beers were definitely well needed and well deserved. My Nike+ said we burned off 355 calories running the 5k and common sense said we consumed 355 calories of dark beer afterwards. Easy come/ easy go, apparently.

This time, Sara's smile was the real deal - happy it was over and beer in hand. The only thing that could have been better would have been a space heater and dry clothes -- it really was freezing out there. And finally, hours after the 5k has long been over, the sun has finally made an appearance.

All in all, 2009's first 5k run was quite a success and I'm feeling a little rugged for having completed it under the circumstances. It should make for future Spring and Summer runs a jog in the park -- literally.

Next.....? Stay tuned.

Back in the Saddle

With the Shamrock run being slightly over a week and a half away, the countdown to successfully crossing the finish line on my first 5k of the year is rapidly approaching. Tonight when I jumped on the treadmill after a couple of weeks hiatus, I felt like the girl who showed up to class where there was a pop quiz and I hadn't read the material. 

Taking two weeks off for things such as snow and injuries, etc., should be expected - I mean, sh*t happens, as we all know. But never again - it's just too hard to get back into the groove once it's lost. And let me tell you, my groove is not only lost, it has most definitely left the building, maybe even the country.  If it's gone somewhere warm with a swim-up bar I might actually try a little harder to find it - wherever it may have wandered off to.

The words "swim up bar" insinuate the two most frightening words of Summer: Bathing Suit. We might be easing our way into Spring, but in a few short months, it will officially be bathing suit weather. Stores are already putting them front and center as a constant reminder of what's coming down the pipeline. Not to mention, time flies when you're unprepared. And you can't really show up at a swim up bar without a bathing suit

(unless you're at one of those kind of resorts - the ones I won't be frequenting, no matter what -- or if you are fortunate enough to have a swim-up bar in your own backyard). These little tidbits of impending doom (or to avoid being confused with a scene out of Free Willy as I grab my drink and swim away) should be ample motivation, if nothing else, to stay on track, re-find my groove and embrace it, even when it's not always convenient to do so. Come to think of it, if I don't get back on track (and quickly -- I mean, where the heck did January and February go???), I might scare innocent by-standers while in a bathing suit, and heaven forbid I give up swim-up bars.  This is rapidly becoming a matter of public safety and needs immediate attention.

With this in mind, I'm going to go pin a bikini up on the wall here to remind me every single day that, inevitably, time will move forward (quickly at that) and before we know it - summer will be here. You guys will thank me later for it. Two months and counting.....and I will not be showing up in one of those bathing suits with the little skirts.

Braving the Elements

We've had, for the most part, a rather mild Central Oregon winter. I have been snowed out of Portland moreso than I've been snowed-in this year in Bend. That's a first. As of a few days ago, we had enough rain with the warmer temperatures that the snow seemed to be an almost distant memory, and my thoughts were shifting from indoor treadmill to outdoor freedom.

Imagine my surprise when I woke up this morning to nothing but the white stuff (we're talking snow here) falling from the sky and apparently, it had been falling all night long. Snow was everywhere - on the trees, on the rooftops, and it completely blanketed the ground, where it looked pretty deep. There went my dream of hiking along new trails in the very near future. It's now back to Winter, snow shovels and snow shoes. Is it ever going to stop, or am I just destined to live wrapped up a parka looking a bit like the Michelin Man until June?

While the new-found twist in the Arctic weather is rather tragic for my running endeavors, it is all fun and games for some members of the household, namely the dogs, who love going out for a lunch-time romp to break through the new snow, not to mention the needed break I get in the middle of the workday.

As you can see, like mother/like son with the header's in the snow. He doesn't seem to be phased too much by it. My shoulder, on the other hand, has yet to make a full recovery.

Between my injuries and the snowy weather, this down-time is giving me the opportunity to do a little R&D on all of the events we can participate in once the latest deep freeze melts and we can actually see the ground again. Gives us something to look forward to. Until then I will just have to live off of my fat reserves and hope for a quick defrost.