Interrupted Goals

One of the most discouraging things about my last pregnancy was putting aside many of my own goals and dreams for a time. Pregnancy is hard on me, particularly the first three awful months when the nausea is overpowering. Getting through it means sacrificing many of the extras and getting down to just the essentials.

We wanted Katie very much (even before we knew how great she was!) and we were blessed to conceive quickly. But still, I had to put a lot of my projects on hold in order to focus on nurturing this new life, and I cried at times about the things I had to put on hold.

One of those things was my own physical fitness goals. I took up running that summer (after Harmony finally started sleeping through the night), and I ran my first 5K at the peak of my morning sickness, at 12 weeks along. I ran a few miles several times a week until I was six months along and it made a huge difference in those final months (I never got that desperate get-this-baby-out-now feeling the last months like I usually do). But the weight loss I was finally enjoying -- 12 lbs down and hoping for more -- had to wait.

When Katie was born, I was anxious to get back in shape and try to start losing the weight. I ended the pregnancy ten pounds heavier, and while I did add exercise back to my routine, her horrible sleep habits (and my constant exhaustion) left me unable to lose any of that weight. In fact, I gained another eight pounds during those eight trying months.

But, like the scripture that says, "Cast your bread upon the waters, for you shall find it after many days," (Ecclesiastes 11:1) I'm feeling so blessed to once again be making progress in my fitness goals, even if there was a challenging 18-month interruption to them.

I've completed 6 weeks of training for my half marathon, using a modified version of this schedule (I started a week early and repeated week 5 because of my Chicago trip). My longest run so far is 7 miles, and I'm gearing up for 8 miles this week. I have seven weeks to go and six more miles to add to my long run to be ready for my race on June 11th.

Here's what I've run:
Week one: 2, 2.5, 3, 2 = 9.5 total miles
Week two: 2.5, 3, 1.5, 4 = 11 total miles
Week three: 3, 2, 1, 3, 5, 2 = 16 total miles (that was a good week)
Week four: 2, 2, 6, 3 = 13 total miles (plus a 3 mile walk on a rest day)
Week five: 2.6 miles along Lake Michigan, 7 = 9.6 total miles (plus tons and tons of walking all over Chicago)
Week six: 4, 3, 7, 2 = 16 total miles

My long runs are killing me, but some of the shorter runs are getting easier and I'm starting to enjoy some of the miles -- I loved almost all of my four mile run in the rain last week, half of the seven mile run, and I especially enjoyed my two mile recovery run last Saturday. Sarah came with me on her bike and we had a great time together.

I still hate running most of the time, however, so I'm signing up for another half marathon in August to help me with that. The first half marathon will be to prove to myself I can do it; the second will prove that I can enjoy it, too -- at least that's what I'm hoping! I think it will be like running over a hill. Sometimes the only thing that gets me up the hill is knowing that I get to run down it on the way back. My first half marathon is going to really test me and will take all the strength I have. The second will be easier. Knowing I've already done one successfully will keep me from the doubts I battle now, and my body will be more used to the long distances by then.

And I will need both runs to keep me motivated long enough to lose the rest of the extra weight I'm carrying around. Because that's the other goal I'm progressing well on. I joined Weight Watchers and it has helped me tremendously because I track everything I eat. I know when I can indulge in a treat and still lose weight and when to refrain. I'm changing my portions, I'm eating more fruits and vegetables, and -- hurray! -- I'm down over 15 lbs so far, and I have just a few to go before I'm where I was before my last pregnancy.

I feel like I'm turning back the clock as I lose. If I can lose another 15 lbs in the seven weeks before my race, then I'll be the same weight I was three kids ago. If I lose another ten after that, I'll be the same weight I was seven kids ago. Another fifteen after that and I'm back to the weight I was at my wedding and I can begin to focus on maintaining it.

Were we really THAT young?

I'm trying to set small goals and remember that slow and steady wins the race, and I'm also keeping in mind that I may have to put these goals on hold for another 18 months if #9 decides to show up sooner than I'm expecting. But in the meantime, I've set aside most of my other projects and goals (including this much-neglected blog) to give this as much as I've got.

In some ways, the interruption to my goal has been good. I'm more determined now because I've had to wait and I'm hitting it harder because I know I have just a small window of time to devote to this. I'm learning my body can do amazing things -- like run for 90 minutes straight! -- and I'm learning a lot of important lessons from pushing myself.

What have you learned about interrupted goals? What areas of your life are you trying to improve on? Any advice for me from you seasoned runners?

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Victory!

This morning, I ran my first 5K race. I'm 12 weeks pregnant and sick as can be, yet I still ran. I'm not fast, as I've said before, but I ran every step of the race. I didn't walk at all, though it was tempting. The first half mile went uphill and a lot of the other runners stopped to walk it. I kept running. It was hard. The next stretch was downhill, and I passed a few spectators I knew.

There were lots of people along the route, waiting for BYU's Homecoming Parade. If I'd thought about it in advance, I would have thought, "eh, I'm not sure I'd want people to watch me run." But I didn't think much about it, and while I was running, I found it so fun to run by crowds and hear them cheer us on. There were a couple of people that picked up my number and cheered just for me -- "Go 30!" they'd say, and I'd grin, "Yeah! Me and this baby!" If I run it next year, I'm going to get me a big shirt that reads, "Mother of 8." A little shameless self-promotion isn't all bad, is it?

There was a gal who ran near me that stopped to walk several times. She kept passing me when she started running again, then I'd pass her when she stopped to walk. The first time I passed her, I told her she was doing great. Then when she passed me, I said, "See? You're doing awesome!" Her pace was pretty much the same as mine, but as you know, I don't claim to be fast. Just consistent. The fact that I'm still running, even though I spend much of the last six weeks either throwing up or feeling like it, is a major accomplishment.

Evidently, I was fast enough that I beat my family, who showed up at the Brick Oven to cheer me on, only to miss seeing me.

I finally finished. My run-walk friend caught up to me as we headed around the track for the last little bit. "Hey," I teased, "You're not allowed to pass me!" "I won't," she assured me, "you've helped me a lot." I did tell her I was joking and she was welcome to run ahead. As we rounded the last corner of the track, I pulled together all the energy I had, and I sprinted the last 100 meters. That felt good.

My time? 37:31.4 Like I said, I'm not fast. According to my race ticket, I came in 20th in my age bracket and my pace was 12:04 min/mi. Not so shabby for a pregnant 31-year-old who before this summer had never run a mile straight.

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"But how fast can you go?"

So . . . I took up running this summer. (She says casually, as if it's the most natural thing in the world).

Yep, I am now one of those crazy people waking up three or four days a week while it's still dark, pulling on the shoes and hitting the streets. It's an interesting world out there. I'm starting to recognize some of the same people out and about, from the real runners who intimidate me with their teeny shorts and their fast pace to the older couples out walking and holding hands. Then there's that one lady, a grandma in her 60s who power-walks, smiles at me sincerely, and calls out every time I see her, "You're doing great!" I love that woman!

I am doing great, and I am really proud of myself. Before this summer, I had never run a mile straight. In my life. No, not even when the P.E. teacher blew her whistle and announced cheerfully, "It's time for the mile run!" I just figured running was something other people did, not me.

But that's changed, in a really satisfying way. I can't say I love running. In fact, I probably can't in all honesty say I even like it. But there is something so wonderfully pleasing about the fact that I can actually see and feel the improvement.

Three months ago, I had never run a mile straight.

Two months ago, I could run a mile, but it about killed me.

Six weeks ago, I could run a mile and a half without stopping.

A month ago, I pushed myself to the limits and found I could run 1.75 miles.

Three weeks ago, I pushed a little harder and ran 2 miles.

Two weeks ago, it was 2.25 miles.

Last week, it was three miles. Yes, three miles! As in, a full 5K! Well, minus the .1 part. Now I know I'm not going to totally embarrass myself on October 24th when I run my first 5K. Yes, I've even become one of those people who sign up for races they have absolutely no chance of winning, just for the chance to do something hard. Oh, and to get a T-shirt.

I've made exercise an important part of my life for years, but this is different. When I worked out to videos, the progress wasn't so obvious. I could say, "wow, this is a bit easier than last time," or "I'm not as short of breath as I used to be," but it was much more subjective. I love that running is objective. I can add up the miles, the quarter miles, and I can even check the clock as I leave and return, recording how long the route took me.

Which brings me back to the title of this post. I ran into an acquaintance at the twins' gymnastics last week that I hadn't seen in many years. She has three kids and she and her husband are runners, both of them training for a huge relay in Las Vegas. I mentioned how I've taken up running this summer and that I’ve been happy with my improvement. "But how fast can you go?" she asked, "Because that's what really matters."

I have laughed a lot about that since. To me, how fast I can go is so far from my thoughts. The fact that I am running over a mile for the first time in my life is just amazing to me, and I could care less if I run it slower than someone else (though I did check last year's time on the 5K I'm running next month, and I can safely say I will not be last!).

This morning, as I pushed myself to keep running to the next marker and the next, I began making a list of all the things I do like about running:

* I like that I can easily measure my progress.

* I like that I'm doing something hard.

* I like that by the time I'm done running three miles, even my fingertips are sweaty.

* I like that woman who says, "You're doing great!" I really, really like her.

* I like the extra energy I feel later that morning.

* I like that I'm doing crazy things like checking out training schedules for half-marathons, thinking about signing up for long races, and mapping out runs (using mapmyrun) that I am nowhere near capable of completing at this point in my life, like that 7.5 mile route that takes me along the river, up a hill and around the temple.

* I like that I haven't given up even though I've had good reasons to.

* I even like the battle I wage with myself every day:

Me: You're getting tired. Maybe you should walk for a while.
Myself: No way. I can go a little further.
Me: No, you can't. You need to stop and walk.
Myself: Yes, I can. I did it yesterday, remember? So I can do it today too!
Me: Oh, yeah. I guess maybe you can. But you're still tired, you know?
Myself: Oh hush!

* I like that it gets easier to keep going the more I do it.

I thought about listing the things I don't like about running, too, but then I realized they're fairly obvious:

* The first half mile.
* The last half mile.
* The middle couple of miles.

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