Are you talking to ME?

I think the Universe has been trying to tell me something. For a while now. It started as a bit of a whisper. Some time in late summer I discovered podcasts. I know. I’m a bit of a late adopter. Whatever. I’m not sure how I got turned on to the Running on Om podcasts but somehow I found my way there, working my way backwards through episodes. Early in that discovery, I listened to one of the regular recurring episodes: Ask Lauren Fleshman. And I’m not gonna lie, it was the birth of a girl crush. I then became selective in my walk backwards through ROO podcasts, listening in reverse order to all of the Ask Lauren Fleshman episodes. And I thought I heard the Universe whisper: you should start writing again Karin.

Did I? No. Of course not.

I had a bunch of conversations with myself about why I’d stopped. Why I hadn’t resumed. And it really didn’t have anything to do with not having things to say. I’ve written many, many blog posts (in my head). No, I wasn’t writing for deeper, more uncomfortable reasons. Reasons with louder voices than those whispers from the Universe.

Here’s the ugly truth of it:

1. I'm embarrassed.
2. I feel like a fraud.

Yup, it’s not writer’s block or a fear that people won’t like my writing - or even that no one will read it. It’s about those two feelings in the context of this blog about …about what? Weight loss? Fitness? Health? Transformation?  Let me attempt to explain.

What am I embarrassed about? Well having lost the significant amount of weight that I have, I feel – at least to some extent - like that has defined me. Who I am. The most important thing about me. I’m Karin, who lost 120 lbs. Karin, who used to weigh 255 lbs. Sometimes I’m OK with that and I contribute to using that as my label - as my defining characteristic. When you sign up for an Ironman race, there’s a box where you’re supposed to say something about yourself. “I’ve lost 120 lbs” is what I usually type. And you know what? The crowd freaking LOVES that at an Ironman finish line. And I love the finish line rah-rah. 

But sometimes I feel burdened under the weight of who I used to be. I was at a party a friend threw 

Worst Photo Ever Taken. Ever. Like, ever.

where I knew very few people. I knew with certainty when my host was having a conversation with someone across the room, nodding in my direction, that it was about my weight loss. Do you remember the Bridget Jones movie, where she introduces people with an interesting tidbit about them? "This is so & so, he’s a top lawyer in his field." And "This is so & so, they climbed Mount Everest!" "This is Karin, who lost 120 lbs." Like it is the single most interesting or notable thing about me. Maybe it is. But so often, when that’s the first thing people know, I feel like I’m that woman again. That that is how people are seeing me. As that 255 lb woman. That woman whose skin I still inhabit. And I’m just so embarrassed. Embarrassed to have ever let my weight get to that stage in the first place. I mean, who does that? And if YOU did that, I don’t judge you. But I do judge me. Does that make sense? It doesn’t have to. It just is.

So that brings me to the fraud thing. That’s multifaceted. One aspect: well that 255 lb woman? I’m still wearing her skin. And so you know what… no matter how hard I train, or how little I eat, or how clean my diet is, I am never, ever going to have a great body. I will never be comfortable in a bikini on a beach. I will never achieve that mental picture I had of what I was working towards. I will always have a muffin top. Gaining that much weight leaves a mark; a friend once asked me if I had loose skin and said she wondered what the point was in trying to lose the weight, since she’d just have loose skin. [Sigh] I understand. But do I regret the weight loss? No. I regret the weight gain. Big difference.

And so if I’m trying to think a little less shallow - and point out that there is more to life than having a great body, and that this new life – all this training and racing – that’s where it’s at. That there’s value and meaning and reward in all of that, that is so much better than the number on the scale or the size of your jeans… Well, yeah! Woohooo.... Get on board! 

But here’s the thing: Yes, I’m still training, Yes, I’m still racing. But... each Ironman is slower than the last. And I don’t understand that. And if I’m not waxing poetic here about racing and challenging myself, and getting better (because I’m not getting better), then I come back to all this eating well and exercising stuff as the means to an end: how big (or small) I am, and how I look and damn if I am not STILL battling my weight. Yup. Currently about 10 lbs heavier than my typical off-season weight. Maybe more. This never-ending f&*ing merry-go-round. How can I write this blog when I’m only 110 lbs lighter than I used to be? When I’m racing slower? When I don’t have that triathlete/fit chick/super awesome body of my dreams?

But the Universe kept whispering. Often through the podcast Tea with a Titan, where host Mary-Jo Dionne interviews people who are masters of transformation, inspiration, authenticity, and bravery. I listened to her interview her husband, ultraman athlete and friend Chad Bentley, who spoke of his own physical transformation. I didn’t hear embarrassment about where he had come from – and what’s more, I didn’t see any reason why he should be – but I was encouraged and inspired by the possibility that his transformation demonstrated.

I listened to the interview with Danielle Krysa, the Jealous Curator. Who talked about her passion for art and her need to be in that space (I’m paraphrasing) and who she began writing, and continued writing, even when no one was reading. And this time when the Universe whispered to write, I had an a-ha moment about the need to write being about the need to write. Not necessarily to be read. But if you’re reading, I’m glad you’re here!

I listened to the interview with Susanne Biro and her admission that she’s afraid in almost everything she does… I’m totally paraphrasing. I should have written down the quote because she made the comment while discussing a face to face conversation with Richard Branson, and being brave enough to ask a question, and I was stunned. I thought it was just me who felt that way! How she said it was perfect. How I said it is not. If I wasn’t on a self-imposed deadline to get this posted today, I’d go replay the podcast. Instead, I’ll suggest you just go listen to it yourself. It’s worth your time.

Then Oprah whispered to me. Kind of. I saw a commercial for Weight Watchers and could not believe she’s their new spokesperson. I mean really. She is arguably the most successful woman in the world. And she’s still battling her weight. This woman who could pay someone to slap the food out of her hand! I’m in good company I guess. Weight struggles: the great equalizer.

And then – since I still wasn’t writing – the Universe got a bit more direct. Out of the blue this past Thursday, in the middle of a workout, my trainer Scott asked me if I was still blogging. And he said I should be. That I had a voice. And things to share that could help people on their journey.

So I’m back. My 2017 goal: one post a week.

If you’re still here: thanks for reading.

And thank you to the ladies who let the Universe whisper through them: Julia Hanlon, Lauren Fleshman, Mary-Jo Dionne, Danielle Krysa, Susanne Biro, and Oprah!

And thank you Scott for the nudge of encouragement. And for your commitment to getting me #laf. Seriously, make it happen bro.

Do what you love

I had a great swim this morning. Yes, I said that. Fast for me, and fast compared to my lane-mates this morning. And since I am compelled to compare myself to everyone, over everything… well, it’s nice to come out on top once in a while. And it comes at a good time because I’ve been struggling with motivation and a sense of being stuck or being “less than” with all of this swimming, biking, and running stuff. So much so that, as I touched on briefly in another post, I have been considering doing the unthinkable. No, I’m not talking about wearing flats. I’m talking about the Q-word.

Yes, these last few weeks, I have been doing a better job of rah-rah-ing others than I have myself. And somewhere my language shifted and instead of saying things like “I’m doing Ironman this year” when people asked about it, I said “that’s the plan… ”. Post-race blues? Lack of endorphins through recovery weeks? Dunno, but I was feeling dangerously close to returning to the sofa from which I had dragged my super-sized self not that many years ago, and eating my body weight in tortilla chips.

I told Coach I needed a pep talk and so we had a little long sit-down where he indulged my neuroses, tried to be a voice of reason and encouragement (I think that’s what he was doing) and left me with some options to consider… “And you don’t need to decide anything right now.”

So I took the time to carefully consider what he said about 5 hours later… this happened:

Partially influenced by this:

Yes, a new coffee mug I’d felt compelled to pick up the day before. I don’t need another coffee mug but this one wouldn’t let me leave [the bookstore] without it.

So I’m in. Committed. And now also broke.

And this morning while eating my usual pre-swim breakfast of toast with nut butter and banana, sipping slurping coffee from the mug that gave me permission to click that Register button, regardless of how slowly I might traverse the course, I was cruising through Facebook and happened upon this video…

There’s a moment where Mirinda talks about the selfishness of being a professional athlete but that the point, the reward,  is in influencing or inspiring others to take control of their lives and live them more fully (I’m paraphrasing). And it’s good messaging to hear right now. That it really isn’t about how fast or slow, but about tapping into the best that you can bring, and perhaps inspiring others to make whatever changes they need to, to live their best lives. Or maybe that wasn’t what she was saying. But it was my takeaway.

Now, I'm not sure about you, but I think this post has gotten much too serious. So let me end with this topical thought: 

Ironman Canada - 20 weeks out

	IMC: 20 weeks to go (Mar 9-15)	Challenge: 20 weeks to go (Mar 31-Apr 6)
Total training hours	11:17	10:43
Swim	3:13 / 6350m	2:53 / 5750m
Bike	3:29 / Spin class + 55 km on trainer	4:34 (trainer time + 112.9 km on road)
Run	2:30 / 24.1 km	0:51 / 8.4 km
Strength training		0:55
Yoga	2:05	1:30
SBR Total	9:12	8:18

20 weeks out. Yeah, if you were planning to do Ironman, but hadn’t really started your training with any focus, right about now I’m thinking you would be. I was looking forward to seeing this week’s plan from my Coach. To this point, it’s really been all about the marathon. Which was great, because I love the run. Nothing like the run for your exercise endorphin boost. But… then the marathon came and went it was a dreaded recovery week. Now, don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind a recovery week on the schedule when it greets you after weeks of hard training. And when I say I don’t mind, I mean I will be living hell to live with as my appetite ramps into overdrive and I try not to give in to it on account of the fact that I’m not burning anything. But the thing with post-race recovery week is that it comes right after the race, and before the race comes the taper. And so. You know. Let’s get busy. That’s what I was expecting. Instead I got 2 rest days and less than 8 hrs of training assigned. I know my Coach knows what he’s doing. But that doesn’t make me any less cranky.

Monday, I packed myself off to yoga for the first time in weeks. It was bliss. Happy to be back on the mat and stretching out some of the aches and owies that I picked up on race day.

Tuesday morning, I was supposed to swim but just couldn’t make it work with my work schedule so instead, I got up at 4 and headed out for an early run. “I’ll swim tonight.” I lied to myself. I hate swimming at night. Actually, to be more specific, I hate leaving the house after I’ve been home to go for a swim at night. I especially hate it if I’m having to swim in the frigid waters of MR pool. Back when I was coaching myself, I sometimes chased the PRM Spin Class with an hour in the pool, ‘cause it’s so dead at 9 pm, you’d really be hard pressed (and pretty damn uptight) to muster up any lane rage swimming at Hyde Creek at that hour… and bonus idea: wine in your water bottle = a great little [secret] to reward yourself with at the end of the swim. No, I haven’t done that. But where was I going with this? Oh yes, I had no intention of swimming at night and I knew it. Instead I decided I’d swim Wednesday morning and take the opportunity to resume strength training on Tuesday night. Yeah, that never happened either. What is wrong with me??? I think I’m bored with my strength workout.

So Wednesday and Thursday morning, I swam and is it just me or am I getting slower? Or at the very least, not faster? These swims felt sucky. Let’s just leave it at that. Or not. On Wednesday’s swim, I asked myself “why am I doing this?” which progressed to “why do I want to do another ironman? Why am I doing ANY of this?” I mentioned this to my son later, before heading off to Spin class, with tanking motivation. His reply, a very casual: “why don’t you take a break?” Because #fat, that’s why! Which lit just enough of a fire in me to go sweat all over the bike and the floor at 360.

Thursday, I snagged a free entry into the modo 8K Spring run-off after applying to be one of their “Digital Champions” [no, they didn't pick me] and with renewed enthusiasm, headed out for a run at lunch with one of my work friends and… ran it way too fast. Yeah, not 5K fast but not easy-recovery-run either. I loved the run… but activated all of the post-race grumpies, prompting a desperate text to an almost-RMT-extraordinaire friend to help a gal out. And she did. Because she’s awesome like that. Working my hips, glutes and rec fem and sending me off with instructions to stretch. And I have. I have!! Is stretch plural?

Saturday I had a moment of extreme inadequacy at my Club swim followed by bitter jealousy and resentment, which was, OF COURSE, an awesome start to the day and fed into all the angst of the week. So it only made sense that I would do my Saturday easy 1-hour run by running uphill for 4.5 km and then downhill for 4.5 km, at the Malcolm Knapp Research Forest. As preparation for Yakima. Yeah, it hurt. Glute med, TFL, rec fem. And crampy calves. I came home, watched the Yakima video and felt better.  

Yakima Skyline Rim - 25/50k - 2014 from Project Talaria on Vimeo.

Sunday, I played coach and cheerleader and cowbelled the Hub through his first race (well, first one he’s ever trained for) and watched while Sporty Spice shattered my 10K PB after only a few short months of running. Yeah! #notaboutme  I spent the afternoon, escaping the rain on the trainer, spinning through the TrainerRoad Big Squaw workout, made bearable by 3 episodes of House of Cards… House of Cards! “I’d push him down the stairs and set his body on fire just to watch it burn.” Oh Frank Underwood. We be samesies.

The week in summary:

Monday	Hatha Flow Yoga Class
Tuesday	6.4 km run before work
Wednesday	2300m swim before work PRM Spin Class after work
Thursday	2350m swim before work 8.6 km run at lunch Hatha Flow Yoga Class
Friday	Rest day
Saturday	1750m PRM swim 9 km run
Sunday	2:30 on the trainer (Trainer Road Big Squaw work out)

Ironman Canada - 28 weeks out

Guess what time it is kids? It’s time to start sharing the deets of the IMC journey… Why? Because I want to. And because if I share every workout on my Facebook timeline, everyone will hide me from their news feed. I know I would.

So this time instead of keeping a running total of the training hours from week to week, I’m going to compare how the IMC prep looked compared to the same week pre-Challenge. For two reasons… one, it will be interesting to see how they differ, and two, and more importantly, I just don’t want to have to do all that math. So without further ado my lovies, here is how things looked 28 weeks out from race day:

	IMC: 28 weeks to go (January 12-18)	Challenge: 28 weeks to go (Feb 3-9)
Total training hours	13:47	12:34
Swim	2:04 / 3900m	3:57 / 8150m
Bike	1:56 (14.2 km on the trainer + spin class)	5:20 (trainer time + spin class)
Run	5:56 / 58.3 km	1:01 / 9.7 km
Strength training	2:36
Yoga	1:15	2:15

Not a huge difference in the total training load but a big shift in the distribution of time. Even as I was typing out the summaries, I realized that they are likely going to look very different this far out, given different run race schedules, and the fact that this time pre-Challenge, I was still coaching myself.

This is how the week looked:

Monday	8.3 km run at lunch Strength circuit at home after work
Tuesday	Track work: 6 x 800m (200 @ 70%, 200 @ 80%, 200 @ 90%, 200 max) TRX crunches to failure
Wednesday	2100m swim before work PRM Spin Class TRX push-ups & squats
Thursday	11 km run at lunch including 20 minutes in zone 3 Plyo circuit at home after work Yin Yoga Class
Friday	“Bench Press for Cyclists” x 12 – trainer workout TRX back-row & squats
Saturday	1800m PRM swim 8 km PRM run post-swim Strength circuit at home
Sunday	21 km run

Per my last post, I am also most definitely putting down some roots in Crazytown. Creating big calorie deficits to try and look like I belong at the pool or in Spin class but not reaping benefits as yet. I started reading Racing Weight yesterday (on loan from my coach). I’m a little frustrated by what I’ve read so far which suggests no focus on calories at all. The central premise seems to be if you eat optimally for training, then your training will get you lean. And the guidelines for optimal eating for training are about timing, diet quality, and nutrient requirements – but not calories. It’s a one-size-fits-all approach and that makes me nervous. The book also encourages tracking of data – you gotta know I’m on-board with that one – including weight, body fat percentage, and performance on specific workouts. The idea being this allows you to functionally assess your ideal race weight. I’m not sure what I’m going to do with this yet… it means more food (oh, sooo much more food), and that would suggest more Karin. So the jury is still out. Out of curiosity, I compared my weight at the start of this training week to my weight at the same point pre-Challenge, and I’m 2 pounds lighter this year. Meh. I’m going to express that in ounces because it sounds way more impressive… 32 ounces smaller. Woo! I didn’t have the fancy-schmancy Tanita scale then though so I can’t compare body fat percentages… likely an inaccurate reading, yes, but useful for tracking changes.

So where do I go from here? I don’t know yet.

So... where have I been?

So completely and positively rooted back in Crazytown.

[sigh]

Moderation & the Art of Being

It's been a month since my last post. I wish I could say that I've resolved my conflict and am feeling settled. I can't. I've still bounced around between dedicated athlete wannabe and frenzied scale-fixated food Nazi. I've logged a 488 calorie day. And I've logged a 2679 calorie day, supporting the day's 29km run and 1950m swim with healthy food choices. And something new in this mix: I've also had days where I've scarfed down a couple of handfuls of chocolate chips, two cookies, or a brownie from a work meeting. I'd like to say that when I've indulged I've sat down and enjoyed it, really taken the pleasure of having a treat. Instead, it's been a furtive, frenzied chow down before I can change my mind or someone sees me. And I know it's these behaviours that if not managed will cause me to climb back up the scale. It's not the brownie. It's not the cookies. It's the idea that these are forbidden, that eating them is shameful, and so if I'm going to indulge, I must do so in secret. That's my confession. I know this is something I'll need to work on.

I think I understand the underlying issue here. You know how people say everything is OK in moderation? Well, I don't do moderation. I do hyper-restricted fruit and coffee 500-calorie days. And I do super-clean eating, nutrient-dense fueling to support my triathlon & marathon training regime. I'm black or white. Hot or cold. Slow or fast. Just kidding. I'm never fast!

I don't have some epiphany for how I'm going to master this. In my disciplined, rule-based, extreme thinking way, I'd like to create a rule about when and how treats can be enjoyed. Like, only on race days or if I've burned more than 2000 calories in exercise or it's a holiday or I saw a unicorn or all of the above. But I think that's just more control-freak, all or nothing thinking. So for now - right now anyway - I'm just going to let my awareness "be". As I typed that I was reminded of some advice I was given earlier this week: "stop worrying..turn all that energy into focus and just .........BE". Words of wisdom from my trainer. He'll never read this. Don't anybody tell him I suggested he knows what he's talking about.

Getting back to my conflict and whether I want to be an athlete or a scale obsessed wing-nut, I think I've got that figured out. Actually, if I'm going to be honest, I think I've always known which I wanted to be - yes, hello, the blog is titled Strong is the New Beautiful - but I'm starting to think maybe my flip-flopping was fear based. You know, I know how to lose weight. I can chip away at the number on the scale. I can measure progress. But being an athlete? Come on, who are you kidding? That's what my inner critic is telling me. There are no guarantees. I might not finish that Half Ironman within the cut-off times. My knees might not hold out through another marathon. I might not be able to keep up on a club run or ride. And along the way, it's harder to gauge whether you're making progress or going to be successful. And then I think maybe I should stick with what I know. Or I catch sight of The Pooch, and feel like I didn't finish the job I started with this weight loss "thing" and that I need to shift my focus back to driving that number down. Because surely another 5, 10, 15 will take care of The Pooch. Oh hey... we're headed back to Crazy Town!

So one of my challenges, in order to try and maintain this focus on being healthy, being strong, and pursuing my fitness goals is to limit the amount of time spent on my scale. Yes, I've been on that flipping thing every time I change my clothes. Before I get in the shower. On the scale. When I get home from work. On the scale. Before a run. On the scale. After a run. On the scale. You get the idea... And I often made decisions about whether or not to eat dinner based on my post-work weigh in. And after a few days of skipping dinner and logging low calories, my workouts started to suffer. No training with a purpose here. Just going through the motions. And if my goals are based on fitness, performance, body composition... is the scale really telling me that? Hmmm... maybe not. So I have challenged myself to once a day weigh-ins for the rest of March. It's been about a week since I made that decision. It hasn't been easy but I've stuck with it. I still go a little batty over the number. But I only check it once a day. And I don't let it change the game plan when it comes to fueling my training. And that's progress.

Conflict in Crazytown

It's been about a month since my decision to stop trying to lose weight. It's been a challenge. After a lifetime of stepping on the scale each morning hoping for a lower number, although I haven't been trying to lose weight anymore, I've still felt a ripple of disappointment each day I stepped on and it wasn't lower. Still, I continued to target a minimum of 2000 calories and watched the scale cautiously, the numbers would pop up, then down, then up, then down. I had chosen a weight to represent my 'red line': the number at which I had to take action to keep from galloping back up to 255 lbs.

A week or so into the food, I red lined. My rational self suggested that this was because I'd eaten dinner late the night before. But I wasn't taking any chances. I cut to < 1200 calories. I returned to life as a hungry miserable grump. Good times. The next day, I was back in the safe zone on the scale, and with a new maximum: 1800. And I continued to feel that disappointment of maintaining - even though that was my goal. Conflict.

Then I red lined again. This time, I told myself we were going to continue on and wait and see what the scale said the next day before we took action. I was still on a post-race high. I was trying to honour the advice of my nutritionist. But I argued with myself all day over whether it was the right decision. Crazytown. Yes. I'm talking about myself as though there's more than one of me. Maybe there is. Me, the athlete wannabe. Me, the scale obsessed food Nazi. Conflict.

I managed to stay away from my red line in the week or so that followed but still felt very discontented with my body. It just wasn't right. Wasn't good. Too soft. Too squooshy. Not what I had envisioned. I had decided to focus on performance goals and reducing body fat but the absence of objective, immediate feedback was weighing heavy - that and the unhappiness with what I saw in the mirror. So that's how I found myself standing in front of my husband, grumbling about my body and voicing the thought that had been rolling around upstairs "maybe I should lose another 10 lbs".

Him: What do you weigh right now?
Me: 131
Him: So go to 120

Let me just offer a piece of advice to folks out there... When your partner stands before you after a 124 lb weight loss and says perhaps they should lose another 10, suggesting 11...? No. Maybe they do need to lose 11. Maybe they need to lose 111. But you're not the person to be suggesting that.

In all fairness to my husband, we have debriefed this little episode and he claims I misunderstood. That he meant "so go to 120" as a question. Not a directive. Or a request. Im willing to give him the benefit of the doubt but of course, now that there's doubt, I'm up to my neuroses in conflict. Trying to decide if its better to be a smart-eating, hard-training, flabby athlete or a hungry, weak, half-assed training skinny chick. You'd think by the adjectives I chose there, I'd have made up my mind for the former. But no. Conflict. Crazytown. Population: 1.