I AM the Stairmaster!

So I was at the gym last night, treadmilling away in silence (Damn you, iPod!), giving the whale eye to the behemoth StairMaster beside me, as always.  Nobody ever goes on that thing, EVER - it's just too scary!  Once I saw the gym attendant flick a towel at it and then run away and hide behind the rack of kettle bells....that's how intimidating this thing is.

But I'm on a mission to get stronger legs now that I've clued into the fact that weak legs are what's holding me back in the running department (Sunday's incredibly painful but mercifully brief bike ride put THAT piece of the puzzle firmly into place - I thought cycling would be a breeze now that I'm nearly 40 pounds lighter and have an awesome new bike.  But no.  An epic struggle.). So I swallowed my fear, mounted that big beast, gave it a good dusting (did I mention nobody goes on it?) and pounded out 20 stories in 6.5 minutes.  Pow!

That's right, I AM the Stairmaster, baby!

Bootcamp Week 1 Results

So I'm a week into the April bootcamp in which I plan to lose massive amounts of weight and inches, and the results are less than spectacular.  I'm down a whole pound to 176, and the measurements are just wonky: 41, 37, 46.  Basically everythings half an inch bigger than a week ago.  PFFFT!  I can't expect real results if I don't put in real effort.  I feel like I'm back on track now - three days properly following Weight Watchers, and I'm 3 for 3 in excercise (twice to gym and a big walk yesterday).  Admittedly it was a rough week last week: we weren't sleeping much on account of the rats, and suddenly there was chocolate and hollandaise sauce everywhere due to it being Easter and all.  And the weather SUCKED!  But all that is past me now and I'm moving on.

What I cannot figure out is why it's so damned hard to RUN!  I feel like I've been working away at it for MONTHS and I seem to make no progress - I still cannot get much past the two minute mark without bonking - heartrate in the 170s, gasping for air, legs failing me.  I look around me at other people on the treadmills: old, young, svelte, chubby, whatever, and they seem to just glide along at a 5 or 6 mph, whereas it's an epic struggle for me.  I had the asthma test a few weeks ago, in hopes that we'd discover that a few puffs of the inhaler was all that's been standing between me and my running career all this time.  But no, just some very, very vague hint that there might be some very, very mild something (or nothing at all).  The doc seemed to think we could leave it at that. 

And so it goes, going nowhere two minutes at a time.  On the plus side (cause there just always has to be one), I know that the exercise is helping me lose weight and improving my health and fitness level, even I'm not seeming to much better at running.

Living a Lie

So last night I was getting ready to head out to the gym for a little walk-run treadmill action - cause I'm one of those people who works out regularly - and I caught sight of my profile in the mirror.  I was stunned by how small my chesticular region looked.  At first I thought my boobs had just been compressed by my new sports bra, but then I realized they really ARE that small!  I guess the weight's been coming off all over because I've become quite petite along the bustline, and hadn't really noticed, until last night, that is, that I've been walking around for months now decieving everyone with my miles-too-big bra.  Not much in there but air and foam - like smoke and mirrors only not so gothic.  I only wish that one day I could have the same revelation with a pair of underpants - "Oh goodness, all this time it was just the puffy panties making me look fat!"

Anyway, I'm sorry everyone, that I've tricked you into thinking I had such a great rack.
(And by the way, I ran for ten two-minute intervals without dying - I am making progress!  The right shoes - Asics Gel Kayanos rock! - and a good sports bra really help, although if I keep this up I may not even need to wear a bra for much longer.)

Take THAT, Canada Fitness Test!

So I have recently committed to kicking the ass of running - it makes me absolutely FURIOUS that, my whole life, I have let running defeat me.  So many buses never caught.  So many races finished last (or not at all). So many calories not burned.  So many years spent believing that I couldn't. 

Forget about it - I am no longer letting my past define me.  I refuse to continue identifying with the girl who was awarded nothing but a "participation pin" from the Canada Fitness Tests (a plastic pin?  Come ON!  Not even a bronze badge?  Nope - not for that soft clumsy girl, the one the other girls called spaz, the one who looked for any excuse to sit inside and read for fear of being stuck being "it" for the thousandth time in tag.) For so long I've looked at people busy using their bodies and thought "not me".  I actually turned down an opportunity to play softball once because I didn't own a pair of runners or sweatpants - I actually hadn't for several years!  Now I just put that kind of gear on as soon as I get home from work (my play clothes, I call them), so I'm ready to go when the spirit moves me.

Canada Fitness Awards - clearly not from my personal collection!

But how did I get here?  Not to the elite land of the uber-fit; to be honest I'm not even close to being fit - but to the place where I can walk into the gym, head held high, and feel like I belong there? To a place where I want to grab running by the throat and let it know who's boss?  I honestly don't know; it just happened very slowly.  A waterfit class here, a tennis lesson there, a hundred walks, some yoga, some kayaking, bellydancing, a little advice from a trainer...and then one day I thought screw it, and I signed up to participate in a 10k with some people from work.  That was two years ago.  I walked it, very slowly; and I walked it again last year, albeit at a slightly brisker pace.  This year I will run at least part of it.  I know I can do this because tonight I held running to the mat for a 120 count. Yep, I ran for two entire minutes without stopping, and after a two minute walk, I did it again. And again. And again.  I really got that I'd changed when I invited a couple of friends to come and work out with me.  You know, like, just for fun!

Hey Canada Fitness Tests! Take your plastic pin and stick it someplace really uncomfortable, cause that's not who I am.


How many thousands of Canadians once wore this badge of shame?