Couch Potato to 5K: Week 5, Day 2

Well, I did it. I went on to Day 2 of Week Five, which means:

Brisk five-minute warmup walk (3.8 mph), then:
Jog 3/4 mile (or 8 minutes) 5.6 mph
Walk 1/2 mile (or 5 minutes) 3.8 mph
Jog 3/4 mile (or 8 minutes) 5.6 mph

I finally realized that I need to get up to 6 mph in order to do the three miles in 1/2 an hour. Duh. Yes, it really did take me that long to figure out that very simple math problem. I guess I just wasn't doing it mathematically, but trying to sort of figure out how much faster I'd need to run to make the 3 miles in half and hour. Silly, I know.

Anyway, it was killer. I was so entirely bored and tired of running, and panting up a storm that I really couldn't wait until the time was over. All said and done, though, I only ran for a mile and a half, but not in a row. 3/4 mile at once and then a five-minute walk followed by another 3/4 mile.

What I don't understand is that the next day of the Couch Potato to 5K program calls for 20 minutes of running. That's more than TWICE what I did today! With no walking in between! You'd think they'd at least do a set with less walking in between before hoisting me right into the 20 minute run. Am I missing something? Am I reading this chart wrong?

In other running news, I convinced my seventeen-year-old daughter Bard to start the program, so pretty soon, I'm going to start the program all over again, only with her beside me. We'll do this either on my off days with Kim or in the evenings. Bard is most definitely NOT a morning person.

And in other weight news, I realized that the last time I weighed myself prior to my previous post was here. Two week ago. So while I'm not losing as much as I'd hoped, I've lost two pounds in two weeks, which is pretty darn good, considering that I could really eat an entire raw cow on some days. Seriously. That's how hungry I feel.

Which brings me to my next point; for some reason I've been really having problems with food the past couple of weeks. I'm just terribly hungry. I eat a huge salad. Still hungry. Down a 1/2 pound of beef with onions. Hungry. Scarf several pieces of pizza. Hungry yet still. The only thing that seems to satisfy me lately is a big bowl of ice cream or a piece of pecan pie. Today I just wanted a candy bar. The whole day. I mean, my mind was completely and totally focused on NOT having a candy bar. To the point of obsessing about it! Generally, I'm not a candy-eater, but I really, really, really want a candy bar lately. Whassupwitdat?

It makes me frustrated to the point of believing I'll never actually lose the weight I want to lose. And once I do? How do I keep it off?

Argh. Quite frustrating.

It's the truth. It's actual...

When I went walking with Bard on Thursday morning, I remembered why I would much rather brave the cold, icy morning on the trail than stand on a treadmill in the warm, televisioncentric club.

Bluebirds.

Bard and I only had a short time to walk on Thursday morning, but I really felt that I needed to take that time. We bundled up and rushed to the trail, leaving behind us the fury that was a family preparing for debate class.

It was crisp and delicious on the trail. Trees creaked ominously above us while the occasional Northern Flicker or Downy Woodpecker laughed at the sillyness of our feet on the pavement. Up ahead, two male cardinals picked through the debris of a road apple, left there by one of the many horses that pull one of the many Amish buggies from the little Amish districts up North to the Stuf*Mart down south. That's one of the reasons this trail is so successful; it gives the Amish a way to travel off of the dangerous, speed-driven main roads from their simple homes to town--to join the bustle of the big town; the doctors' offices, the grocery store, the thrift store, Stuf*Mart, Burger King and Subway.

Shortly into our walk, a dart of blue flitted by, followed by another. And another. I pointed them out to Bard.

"The bluebird of happiness," she said.

It's not likely that's something you'll see in the club.

Yesterday morning, Kim kicked my butt with a little running-program-boost. For the first time, we did 90 second jogging and walking intervals. 90 seconds. No waiting until I was "ready." No prescribed 2 minute walking intervals. 90 seconds of jogging, ninety seconds of walking, and ninety seconds of jogging. We did this for twenty minutes, and then continued our regular walk for the remainder of the hour.

I have to admit that I absolutely dread getting up to run in the morning. When I awake and realize it's a running day, I literally get nauseated and I worry all the way until my very last joggy step. I'm sure I'm going to fail. I'm sure I'll never actually do this. I'll give up. I'm not even remotely able to think positive. I know, when I awake on running mornings, that I am going to die.

But when I'm out there, and I'm doing it, I know it's the right thing.

My feet hit the path in time with Kim's. All I can hear is my breathing and hers, and the crunch of our feet on the snow. Whatever I can do to occupy my mind until that interval is over takes over my whole existence--watching the trail move beneath my feet, picking a distant spot that will likely be our ending place (I often call it right. And I thought I had depth-perception problems.), counting very, very long seconds, coming up with a theme song for the run (yesterday, it was Run to the End of the Highway by Keith Green. How appropriate.), or concentrating on my breathing. Sometimes, I just try to let my body fly away and encourage my brain to do the same. I want to get to the place where this is easy, where it actually feels good to run. I'm trying to think positive, see?

The last leg of yesterdays run, we turned around and covered our previous path to make our way back to the trailhead. There was something incredibly comforting and encouraging about jogging over our lone footprints on the snow, the prints we'd made on on our seventh, sixth, fifth intervals. Our steps were even--our pace had been the same. No other prints disturbed the thin layer of snow, just ours. And as we ended our last jogging interval, we high-fived it. Yes. We'd done it. Another, higher goal had been met.

We walked the rest of the way back. I was even tempted to run a couple of times, but I decided to keep with the CPto5K program instead. Pace myself. Enjoy my victory. The snow danced so delicately around us. We talked about the wonder if them, the incredible uniqueness that proves there is a God who loves beauty. Who loves us.

And there were the bluebirds. I mentioned them to Kim.

"The bluebird of happiness," she said.

This is why I'll leave the treadmill where it belongs and take myself to the place where I belong--braving the weather and embracing the beauty of bluebirds.

Two Days of Anniversary

Thursday night, Bo informed me that he had taken Friday off work so that he and I could begin celebrating our seventeenth anniversary. I was so thrilled and surprised! The bummer was that I didn't really know what I wanted to do, and neither did he. We're low on cash, so there really weren't a lot of options.

After a bit of thinking, I decided what I wanted to do. I told him that I wanted to go into the Big City and shop for a hand-crank pasta maker. Bo works in the Big City, and since his boss was under a little bit of stress, we decided that he could take part of his vacation day and go get some phone calls made while I did a little bit of shopping, then we would meet back up and do some more shopping together.

So, I awoke Friday morning to meet my walking buddy. We decided to do our Couch Potato to 5K routine, alternating 60 seconds of running with 90 seconds of walking. Because I'm a wimp, we've modified it to 60 seconds of jogging and enough walking to regain consciousness. Kim has so much more endurance than I do, but I'll get there eventually. We did the whole session, eight reps of jogging with walking in-between. I can't say that it was fun, but it did feel good, and I hope we can progress to week two before long.

After jogging, I hit my favorite thrift store, because I like to and because a friend who volunteers there had informed me that she had something for me. I found a new pair of rollerblades for Monet and a couple of other small things for The Baby, and when I got to the counter, I discovered that my checkbook was gone. Bo had taken it out to use and I'd forgotten. My friend stepped in and saved the day, paying for my purchase. She's my goat-grain supplier, so I'll repay her when I pick up goat grain on Monday.

When I'd recovered from the embarrassment of not having my checkbook, my friend directed me to the back of the building, where her car was parked. There, she unloaded a large box of beef for our family! I was so thrilled. Meat is a rarity in our house; I really only buy it on special occasions. She said that her family had been blessed with excess and decided to share. What a blessing! She also gave me several loaves of my favorite bread as well as dozens and dozens of eggs (pasta!). I love how the Lord provides!

I stopped at the library to pick up books on pasta and pizza, my two current obsessions, and headed home. Once there, I did some bedroom cleanup, wrote a blog post or two, then Bo and I took our trip to The Big City, which is about an hour from us.

While Bo worked, I abandonned my idea of shopping and read for a while instead. Then I fell asleep. After a nice nap, I was refreshed. And hungry. So we went to eat--where else?--at our favorite Italian restaurant. This, my dear readers, is a very rare and wonderful treat that I do not take lightly. Only on anniversaries and children's 16th birthdays do we indulge such. It was wonderful, but, if I may be so bold, I do still prefer home-cooking. As long as someone else cleans up the mess. :-)

The rest of the evening was spent in pursuit of a pasta maker that never materialized. I was, however, able to score two very well-priced Playmobil toys for The Baby's birthday, which is fast approaching.

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This morning, we woke everyone but Houdin, who is not feeling well, and The Baby, who isn't the best walking partner, and we hit the trail. Monet and Sweetheart roller-bladed while Bo, Bard and I walked. I have made an unspeakable deal with Bard in exchange for her walking with me every time I ask, without complaining, for six months. I think she'll do it. And I think she'll like it. :-)

Another quick trip to the library, another quick trip to the thrift store (to donate, this time), and a pitstop at the store for a few essentials--fruit, paper products, etc--and then it was on to our favorite dairy for fresh, raw milk. I've been making yogurt almost daily using delicious whole jersey milk, so thick and creamy that we'll never go back to Dannon! Almost as good as Stonyfield, but without the cream on top (how *do* they do that?). Home to refrigerate the milk, and then off to a couple of shops in town to check for pasta makers.

The first shop had just about everything else--ravioli molds, spaetzle makers, electric pasta makers--but no hand-cranked pasta maker.

The second shop...SUCCESS! After searching SEVEN different stores, we finally found a store just fifteen minutes from our home that stocks three different top brands of pasta makers, accessories and attachments. But the prices were quite high, so I opted to check online.

Home again home again, and we decided to tackle cleaning our fruit cellar and basement laundry room. They were HORRIBLE! They're much better now, but not done. Still, we were able to burn a bunch of boxes/paper/paper products, and we hauled a large bag of recycleables out of the house. It was a nice opportunity to get a bite to eat, so we rounded out our two-day celebration with a sandwich and onion rings (now I'll have to run some more) and headed for home.

Regular family chaos ensued, and now everyone lies sleeping but I'm still awake. Even though my husband was the one who indulged in late-evening coffee. Go figure.

Sunday school comes early, so I'll sign off, go check my yogurt, and try to hit the hay.

It's been a good couple of days.