Zombies

It's easy for me to look back at the mutant-monster B-movies of the 1950's and see how they reflected society's anxiousness over the advent of the Atom Bomb; so what does our current obsession with the Zombie Apocalypse say about us? Or, more specifically, me? Because I really, really love how zombies inject all kinds of fun into otherwise mundane aspects of life. For example:

I've mentioned the Run for Your Lives race before-- which is a 5k obstacle course crawling with the walking dead-- but recently, I discovered the perfect way to train for it! It's an app called Zombies, Run! and it turns my dreaded sprint intervals into a life-or-death escape from the zombie hoards. The fitness app is cleverly disguised as an interactive game; I'm cast as Runner 5, and am sent to collect supplies for Abel Township, a survivor camp. The story is interspersed between music {I've assembled my own end-of-the-world playlist} and when zombies attack, I have to put on the speed {hello GPS} to outrun them. It's surprisingly thrilling. I've found myself looking forward to the next mission with an eagerness I don't normally associate with exercise.

72 Hour Kits are just so much more appealing when they're marketed 'for use in the event of a Zombie Apocalypse'. :) And so is food storage:

And, of course, it's fun to escape reality with a good book or movie:

This facination must mean something, but I just can't help myself. :) Am I the only one?

Eat Food: Results

If you follow me on Instagram, you know that since starting a Whole Food/South Beach type diet, I've become kinda nerdy about taking pictures of my food. Sometimes, it's because the food is actually pretty, but more often it's because I'm still a bit awed that the stuff on my plate has such an effect on how I look and feel.

It's not like I was eating so terribly before; but in my world, physical activity has always trumped diet. Given the choice between running a half marathon or cutting calories, I choose the half marathon every time-- no question. For years, it's allowed me to get back into shape after having kids, while still having my cake and eating every last bite. ;)

However, after Baby R, no matter how hard I pushed myself physically, it seemed that my weight loss just stalled at about 6 months post-partum. It refused to budge for over a year as I tried to convince myself that this was the new normal and to get over myself already.

So imagine my surprise when I kicked out refined sugars and flours, dramatically increased my veggie intake and booyah! I lost a whole dress size in a month. Even better, I stopped craving sugar after every. single. meal. Mind boggling.

In the beginning, I felt pretty light headed, so instead of running about a million miles a week, I've reduced it to about 4 miles a day and added a Jillian Michaels workout in the afternoon.

The results, good and bad:

Good- my wardrobe has doubled as I'm able to fit into my old clothes.
Good- all that shredding has left my arms with honest-to-goodness definition.
Good- I actually eat all that lettuce that we planted in the garden.
Good- I don't feel guilty about the food I serve my family.
Good- multivitamin? Who needs a multivitamin?

Bad- wild salmon and fresh veggies are expensive.
Bad- when I splurge on a bit of sugar or carbs, I usually crash hard. As in falling into a three-hour coma/nap.
Bad- Little Miss C keeps asking why I'm on a diet, and the whole "for my health" and "this is a lifestyle" answers don't seem to be cutting it.
Bad- no amount of diet and exercise seems to be enough to fix the loose skin on my lower belly, so I find myself daydreaming about a tummy tuck. Which forces me to face the fact that no matter what the state of my body is, I can always find something to be insecure about.

Mmm, all that talk about food has made me hungry. I'm off to throw together a spinach and raspberry salad with almonds and poppy-seed dressing....

Eat Food

Two weeks ago, I tried on the BR Mad Men dress I'd been lusting after only to find that it was tight in all the wrong places. It made me feel big, awkward and discouraged that I no longer reliably fit into my 'regular' size. It's embarrassing to admit how vain and predictable I am by allowing myself to become depressed by it all, but that's exactly what happened.

It was frustrating to think that I'd been able to lose all the weight after each of my pregnancies except for the last one. Is it my age? The fact that I'm now in my 30's and my metabolism has slowed? Training for a 1/2 marathon wasn't enough-- must I really train for another full marathon just to shed that final 15 pounds? If that was the case, I simply didn't have the motivation for such an all-consuming endeavor. I felt trapped.

So instead of adding more exercise, I decided to refine my diet. I've long been a believer in Michael Pollan's Food Rules and Jamie Oliver's Food Revolution, convinced that the key to health was to eat real, unadulterated food with a minimal amount of processing, refined carbohydrates and sugars.

However, believing in something and living it are two different things. While I'd been intellectually converted, too often I fell into the attitude that since I worked out so hard, I could eat whatever I wanted and that it was still 'moderation'. Thus, I resolved to get back to basics, putting myself on Phase 1 of the South Beach diet in order to kick start my committal to eating right.

It's been 10 days now {though I allowed myself a roll, some fruit and a dessert on Easter} and I'm surprised at how differently I feel. I've never eaten so many vegetables at every meal in all my life, and I'm learning to quite like them. And my taste buds have adapted so that when I did splurge on Sunday, everything tasted incredibly sweet and overly rich. I can see how after this, fruit will seem like an indulgent dessert. :)

My only problem so far has been that I get light-headed when I run in the morning. I think I may start eating a half of a banana before I go so that I have a bit of quick energy to burn. And I've gotten quite sick of eggs in the morning, so I've turned into my dad and have started eating dinner for breakfast, namely salmon and veggies.

If you can't beat 'em, join 'em, right? ;)

{Eat Food Papercut by April}

London's Run 2012

Despite a nasty little virus that threatened to take me as its next victim, {having already claimed two of the kids} I ran the half marathon on Saturday. It was stunningly cold for the first hour, but the sunrise was beautiful, the turnout respectable and the cause inspiring.

The race was held at one of my favorite local spots, Schnepf Farms, and wound through the working farm. We passed bales of harvested cotton, canals filled with water and curious cattle and horses. I thought I was doing great until I reached mile 11 and realized that it wasn't the finish line. {I blame my terrible eyesight!} After that, I couldn't help but notice the rocks in my shoes and the heaviness in my legs.

My pace was terrible {which only solidifies my determination to concentrate on speed this year} but I loved the experience. London's Run is held in memory of London Solomon, who lost her battle with cancer nearly 7 years ago, and benefits local families fighting similar battles. The route was marked with flags depicting the faces of those children and their families. I have to admit, I got pretty choked up several times.

It made me think of my grandmother, who died of breast cancer when I was 4 years old. I ran in her memory, even though she wasn't a child when she had cancer.

Apparently, this was the last year for London's Run. I'm sad-- it was such a wonderful cause and an event I could totally see myself participating in annually for the next decade or so. I'll miss it. :(

Now, to work on my speed....

Run, run, Rudolph!

I ran the 12K's of Christmas race on Saturday and had such a great time! It was HUGE. So many people, most dressed up as Santa or Christmas trees or elves. There were carolers at every mile and the entire course smelled like kettle corn. :) While I felt like I felt like I really pushed myself, I still finished with a slower time than I'd hoped for {1:27:59}. I think after the half marathon {London's Run in January}, I'm going to start working on speed. I've run enough races now that I can try and beat my own time in each one.

In other news,Nicole featured our video on Making It Lovely! I'm a bit star struck:

Also, check out this awesome Christmas video made by the Slade Family {they're friends of J's brother}. I'm glad they made it, because I'd never have been able to! I hate water on my face. :)

Gilbert Days 5k

I first ran the Gilbert Days 5k back in 2000, before we even had any children. At the time, we lived in a tiny apartment just down the road where the sounds of the Gilbert Days Parade would wake us from our lazy Saturday slumber. We'd watch from our balcony, then walk to The Farmhouse for omelets and waffles.



Nowadays, the 5k is my official holiday season kickoff. Despite the fact that I'm not a fast runner {and was completely smoked by a 10 year old in a sprint for the finish!} I find the race enormously fun and satisfying. The free Jamba Juice doesn't hurt, either.



Next year, Little Miss C and E want to join in for the 1 mile Fun Run. See you there?

{Shout out to Evelyn-- she's the first blog-reader to recognize me and introduce herself, and ran a great race as well!}

Run For Your Lives!

While researching and registering for the races I want to run in the next few months, I stumbled upon this rad run; Advertised as one part 5k, one part obstacle course, one part escaping the clutches of zombies-- and all parts awesome. I am psyched!

The closest one is scheduled for next October in San Diego. I foresee a special trip to California in order to participate. {You in, Pip?}

In the meantime, I'm feeling strong. I'm halfway through training for the 1/2 marathon in January, and I have a race every month leading up to it. {I'm planning on running in the 12k's of Christmas race for the first time, and am pretty happy about it.}

Anyone else ever run in an unusual or themed race? Do you have a favorite? I'm usually such a loner of a runner that races are kind of a new, social aspect of fitness that I'm really digging. :)

Run, run, run

Perhaps it's the warmer {swimsuit} weather or the fact that Baby R is old enough to be walking, but lately I've become frustrated with my present shape and am anxious to fit back into my old {pre-fourth-pregnancy} clothes. Time to crank up my training a notch or two.

Luckily, I truly love running. It connects me to my body in a way that makes me feel strong and capable. It quiets the critical voices in my head. It gives me time to be alone. It centers me.

Still, despite my love of running and being a self-confessed morning person, I find that I need a little motivation to get out of bed at 5 am. Nike Ads work nicely, as does the thought of buying one of these after my next marathon:

{They also have necklaces for the half marathon and one that simply says 'run', which I think is the prettiest}.

Anyone have tips for painless early mornings? {Aside from pressing the snooze button-- I'm quite proficient at that already} I'm all ears!

Balancing Act

Lately, it feels as if two of my primary goals as runner-of-household-- namely saving money and living/eating in a natural, healthy, sustainable way-- seem to be at odds with each other. It's a constant balancing act, deciding where to spend money, where to cut back, where to put in extra effort and where to give up until I have the funds to do better. I know I'm not alone in this, so I thought I'd share a few tips and strategies that seem to be working for me.

Food:

First and foremost, produce your own food. Having a garden {even a small one!} is such a worthwhile investment. It's educational, nutritious, and connects you to the seasons in ways that supermarket food can't. Get chickens! Grow fruit trees! Do whatever you can to make your land {backyard} as edible as possible.

Second, plan meals. I've never been good at this, but as money gets tighter and tighter, planning out our meals, cooking everything from scratch, and wasting as little as possible not only saves money, but makes sense. I plan a week at a time, factoring in leftovers and food storage, then shop only for the items we need. I like this meal planning template, but there are plenty to choose from here.

When I shop, I try to use coupons. I'm new to couponing, so I generally shop only at our local store, where I've become familiar with their coupon policy and sale cycle. They have a substantial organic/natural food section, with many dry goods sold in bulk bins. Saving Naturally is a great resource for printable coupons on many of the brands that I favor when buying processed items, like Stonyfield, Cascadian Farms, and Newman's Own.

Buy local produce. There are so many great resources for local produce! Farmer's Markets, Community Supported Agriculture {CSA Farms}, and programs like The Backyard Farmer {which is what I use.} I've found that local produce is usually the most inexpensive way to purchase organic food, and I love supporting members of the community-- one of the little joys in my life is to buy peaches from our local farm during their Peach Festival, and gourmet olive oil {the best you've ever had, I guarantee it!} from our local Olive Mill.

By far, the most expensive portion of our food budget is meat. Ideally, we would only eat wild caught fish {not farmed}; grass-fed, organic beef; and humanely raised, organic chicken. I like the labeling policy at Whole Foods, and we buy frozen Wild Caught Atlantic Salmon at Costco, but it is costly. My solution? We eat far less meat than we used to. I am by no means a vegetarian, but it's cheaper to get our protein from nuts, beans and eggs than it is to have meat every day. Then, when we do have meat, we can afford to get the good stuff. {Don't know why it matters? Watch Food Inc!}

Living:

We don't use paper plates anymore, or paper towels. It means washing more dishes and cleaning windows with the newspaper inserts we get in the mail, and keeping plenty of rags on hand to mop up spills.

I'm experimenting with making our own cleaning products. I have a huge bag of baking powder and a jug of vinegar just for this purpose.

We use our chickens to 'compost' all our table scraps. I still wish I had one of these composters, but this works and doesn't cost anything.

Instead of paying for curbside recycling, we sort our recyclables with these totes and take them to the recycling center at the library once a week.

I bought one of these water bottles and LOVE it. I know most people like the Nalgene bottles, but this one is perfectly contoured to my hand and I like that it doesn't have a sports top. Plus, one handed operation! I'm saving up to get one for each member of the family. {It will save me from washing endless glasses this summer.}

Lastly, I'm thinking of getting a clothesline for the backyard. Not that I'd use it for all my laundry {I'm lazy and totally not a masochist} but it's so hot here, I can see line drying sheets and things.

What about you? Any tips for living well on a budget?

{image from The Family of Children via Flickr}

Sun Dance

For the last few months, the kids have watched as J and I go about our morning workouts. They've gotten a bit jealous, so on Friday they dragged out the towels, found the appropriate video on our Apple TV, and did a bit of yoga. They were so cute, I had to snap a few pictures. :) Unfortunately, I had The Sun Dance stuck in my head for the rest of the day.

Tennis Pro

The other morning, J came home from playing tennis and proclaimed that his head and wristbands made such a difference keeping sweat out of his eyes. After the way I'd laughed about them when they arrived in the mail {I think I made a reference to Napoleon Dynamite} he felt he needed to assert their usefulness.

"Hey, they match your shirt!" I exclaimed. "And your shorts... and shoes. Wow. You're like a walking Adidas Ad." I teased him a bit, then went to take his picture, but knowing they were bound to end up on the blog, he quickly changed.

The next morning he came home to these sketches. :D Poor guy, I just had to have the last laugh.

For the record, he's totally hot in his Adidas Ad outfit.

Running

Around here, the cooling temperatures mark both the start of the Holiday Season and the start of Running Season. The Gilbert Days 5k Run is November 19th. the Turkey Waddle is the 25th, and London's Run is January 29th.

I'm rather trepidatious at the thought of running in an event rather then the back roads around my house. It's just so... public. My stamina is nowhere near where it was pre-pregnancy, and while I think I'll be ready for a half marathon in January, I'm sure I'll be running quite slowly.

At the same time, I spent nine months dreaming of running again. There's a jolt of excitement that accompanies the hesitation. I know that no matter how much I train and prepare, butterflies in the stomach are always part of the equation, making the relief and pride of finishing a race all the sweeter.

Also, it helps to tell myself that no one else notices {or cares} how fast {or slow} I run. :)

{image}

Sunrise

J and I have worked out a system for our mornings-- he plays tennis with his brother from 6-7:30 am, then I go running when he comes home. We both get our workouts, but after watching this timelaps of his tennis playing, I complained that I miss the best part of the morning {the sunrise!} so he let me go running first on Saturday. It was beautiful! Crisp air, empty streets, and pink clouds. I love this time of year.

Eight Weeks

Why is it that today Baby R is 8 weeks old, but he isn't 2 months old until the 12th? The same thing used to perplex me when it came to keeping track of pregnancy in weeks or months.

Anyhow.

Today R is 8 weeks old, and what I really want to know is if I can pass him off as 3 months, which is how old he has to be before the childcare at my gym will take him.

J is back to working outside the home until the end of the year, and he has started playing tennis in the early morning, a time I usually reserve to go running. I don't yet feel comfortable leaving Little Miss C in charge, even for 30 minutes when everyone is asleep.

After all, what if the kids woke up and decided to cook their own breakfast by boiling eggs in a vat of oil and burned the house down? What if the baby woke up and wouldn't stop crying so they tried to rock him and dropped him on the floor instead? What if someone tripped and fell down the stairs and didn't know to call 9-1-1 or run to a neighbor? What if CPS randomly showed up at my door and found four kids running around without an adult in the house and decided to take them away from me?

So. That leaves the gym.

He looks chubby enough, right?

Changing the Channel

My mother in law has often told me of how once when she was younger, she was sitting in church feeling very sorry for herself. She was lost in thought and could feel the tears starting to brim in her eyes when an older lady tapped her on the shoulder, leaned forward and whispered, "Change the channel in your head."

I spent most of yesterday trying to change the channel in my head, but it felt as though no matter what I did, the same program was showing on every station. By evening, I fled the house in an attempt to run it off.

It was a pathetic attempt. My breathing kept transforming into sobs, my face kept crumpling without warning, and my body felt leaden. I couldn't run far or fast enough to escape myself.

I was two miles from home, berating my looks, my lack of speed, my everything, when a storm that had been advancing from the distance suddenly didn't look so distant. The rain was falling like a curtain- I could see it sweeping across the desert, kicking up dust as it went. I decided I needed to turn around and high-tail it for home.

I was hit first by the wind. It carried the scent of red dirt, hot pavement and creosote, and rushed in from the east like a solid wall. Next, I could hear the rain advancing. It drummed on the tin roof of a barn across the street, then flattened the tall grass in the field opposite me, then swallowed me in heavy, sideways sheets. In mere moments, the dirt road became a minor riverbed. Lighting was flashing, trees were bending, and I was struggling to see in the torrential downpour.

One mile from home, I was completely soaked and splattered with mud. I was running in odd gullies, trying to avoid lowest ground {hello flood waters} and not wanting to be the tallest thing around, but also not wanting to run among the trees, which were the tallest things around.

"It would serve me right to be struck by lighting," I thought to myself, then started laughing.

I laughed and gasped and struggled the whole way home, where I found the door open and towels laid out in anticipation of my return.

I don't know how that rainstorm changed the channel in my head, but it did. I still feel frustrated with my weight and my slow running pace and my lack of sleep, but it's no longer the only thing occupying my thoughts.

Now I think about not being struck by lighting. :)

{image}

Run!

Today I ran 2 miles. Well, walked and ran. But mostly ran.

Observations on running 5 weeks post partum:

• Only one running pace is available to me at this time-- SLOW.
• Two sports bras are required.
• Sleep is still first priority, so I run during the heat of the late morning. Sweaty.
• This body is still foreign. I have extra flesh wiggling and jiggling all over the place.

But the fact remains; running again {even slow, red faced, jiggly running} is awesome.

Priorities

I remember reading the account of a soldier that survived the Bataan Death March during WWII, only to then be held as a POW in a work camp that was so brutal, it was practically a concentration camp. He remembered how hungry he and the other men were. In the beginning, it was all they could talk about, think about and dream about.

Eventually, it became torturous to swap imaginary recipes or discuss their favorite dishes, but they couldn't stop thinking and dreaming about food. Then one day, they got a good meal. I forget how. And that night, instead of food, he dreamt of a woman.

Apparently, the body has priorities. Sustenance, then reproduction. :)

I've been thinking about my body's priorities. Obviously, sleep is first on the list. It's pretty much all my brain has room for. Every spare moment is spent longing for a nap, planning a nap, attempting to squeeze in a brief nap, or crying because my attempts at a nap are unsuccessful. But a strange thing happened this week: I got one really good night of rest, and in the morning my first thought was, "I should go running."

{Probably not what my husband was hoping my first thought would be.}

So I did. Kinda.

My legs felt thick and heavy. My chest felt swollen and painfully bouncy. My muscles felt non-existent. It was more like a lumbering jog, and I could only maintain it for a few minutes before I switched back to power-walking. But the air was cool and hinting of autumn, and the early morning silence reminded me of how important it has always been for my sanity to have that time alone.

It makes me curious. If I get enough sleep, and then get enough exercise, what will be the next priority to reappear? I'm guessing a shower. :)

{image}

Miles to Go

Now that it's insufferably hot outside, I do all my walking on the treadmill at the gym. There's a certain hill program that I particularly favor-- pre-pregnancy, I was running it, using the hills to keep me conditioned for distances. Now I walk it. And every week I walk it a little slower.

Today, I finished walking, flushed and aching in my hips and lower back. I lifted a few weights, and then went to pick up the kids from the child-center, feeling pretty proud of myself. As I entered, the cheerful lady behind the counter greeted me with, "Wow, due any day now, huh?"

I plastered a smile on my face and told myself not to take it personally. {But honestly, when is that ever a good thing to say to someone?}

Yes, I'm huge. Yes, I know it. And yes, I will get even bigger in the next 8 weeks.

But I'm not going to think about that. {I'm not!}

I'm going to think about after the next 8 weeks. Because once the baby is born, I'll keep walking my hill program. And every week I'll walk it a little faster. Until one day, I'll be running it again.

The baby comes in August. In November, I'm running a 5k. In December, a 10k. And in January, a half marathon.

Funny, isn't it? My motivation for ignoring the pains of the coming 8 weeks is a pair of sneakers and the promise of weeks filled with a different kind of pain.

Such is life. :)

{image}

Eventful Week

Last week, the midwife called and asked me to come to her office to discuss the results of my blood tests.

I was irritated.

I always become extremely anemic during my 3rd trimester, and didn't want to drive 40 minutes into town just to be told to take more supplements and eat liver {Blech. Not happening.} I composed a polite but stern lecture in my head about giving results over the phone and the value of time.

But she didn't want to discuss anemia.

Apparently, my body has developed an antibody against the foreign proteins in the baby's red blood cells. Which means that my red blood cells treat the baby's red blood cells like an enemy, and attack them. Usually, when the antibody screen comes back positive, the mother is also RH Negative, but I am not. She was at a loss, and recommended I make an appointment with a perinatologist-- a specialist in fetal care for High Risk Pregnancies.

What does this mean? I asked.

It could be nothing. Or it could be very, very bad. Don't worry about it until you know more, I was advised.

I went home stunned, then cried as I tried to explain what I'd learned to J.

I called the perinatologist that same day, managing to get an appointment before the weekend, only to discover that this particular doctor did not accept my health insurance. I had to scramble to find someone else. I finally did, and set up appointments for the following Monday and Tuesday. Then I settled in for a long weekend.

I tried not to think about some of the things the midwife had gently tried to prepare me for-- amniocenteses. In-utero blood transfusions. Early labor. Possible C-section. It was all too much, so I nestled into the comfort of denial and told myself I'm not stressed. I'm handling this so well.

But I was stressed, and as soon as J went out of town on Sunday night, I had a mini breakdown while watching House. Note to self: do not watch medical dramas while trying to avoid thinking of real-life medical issues.

Finally Monday arrived, and I went in for repeat tests and an ultrasound. In the past, my ultrasound technicians have been pretty tight-lipped. I suppose they have to be to avoid being sued for 'diagnosing' or something, but I couldn't stand silence and asked to at least be given a little feedback.

The feedback was great. Perfect heart. Perfect lungs. 10 fingers and 10 toes. We watched blood flow thru arteries in the brain and I was told, it all looks good. Your baby is almost 3 pounds already and growing right on schedule.

As I gazed at all the images appearing on the screen, it struck me. There is a baby in there. Not a tumor. Not a menacing thing taking over my body. A baby. Beautiful.

The next morning we got to talk with the perinatologist, who explained that the antibody levels in my blood start out low and get higher as time goes on. As they get stronger, they gain the ability to cause harm to the baby, leading to all those scary scenarios I was told about-- anemia in the baby, fluid in his/her body, transfusions, early delivery. But my levels are very, very low. And I don't have enough time left in this pregnancy to allow them to get high. It looks like the baby will be fine.

I was free to go back to the midwife.

I hadn't realized I had been so tense until we drove home and I noticed all my muscles relax into a jello-like consistency. I didn't even know what to do with myself or what to think about-- for days, all my energy had been directed towards thwarting panic, and now that was blessedly gone!

It was a very good day.

Of course, there will still be further tests and ultrasounds to make sure we aren't mistaken about the antibody levels. And if we decide to have another child, both J and I will have to undergo more tests, and the baby will have to be closely monitored. Each progressive pregnancy is increasingly dangerous, as my antibody levels grow higher and higher. And if I'm ever in a car crash or something, I have to be aware that my blood will react to foreign proteins, even if I'm given O negative blood.

But right now, none of that matters. The baby is healthy. And {ohmygosh, I never thought I'd say this} I'm luckily going to be pregnant for the next 3 months. I'll probably even be overdue, just as usual.

I'll take usual.

This is not my beautiful house!

On the way home from the gym yesterday, I couldn't even count the number of joggers I passed. Mercifully, my medication kept my emotions from spilling over into one of those embarrassing, blubbering scenes which always force me to reassure my children that, "Mommy just gets sad sometimes", but I still couldn't help resenting the jogger's blissful athleticism as I drove by.

It's so strange to be stuck in this body.

It's strange to think this body instead of my body, as though pregnancy mutates me into nothing more than an incubator; something lent out to an unborn child. I feel no ownership over this swollen abdomen and these thick appendages. I'm used to thinking of myself as a runner, a marathoner, not someone who gets winded carrying kids up the stairs.

I find the same Talking Heads song playing over and over again in my mind and think that Freud would be proud.

But what can I do but tell myself the things I always tell myself? Just a few more months. Grit your teeth, get through it. It'll be worth it. And then you can lace up your sneakers and run to your hearts content.

It'll have to do for now.

{image}