Go read this, Part II

I realize this blog is called The Shrinking Knitter, and I also realize I talk more about the shrinking – well, the not-shrinking – than I do the knitting. So after I thank you all again, profusely, for your thoughtful comments on my ruminations, I'm going to talk about knitting. And point you to another blog which will bring us back to shrinking.

M@rla and I are twin daughters of different mothers. We've never met, and we may never meet, but no two people could have such similar, non-functioning metabolisms and not be related. And when she said this:

"I eat like the "after" picture. I just don't look like the after picture, and I don't understand why."

I said, "Bingo!" Well, not really, but yes … that's exactly what's going on around here. If I could clone the part of her that loves weight-training and inject it into myself, I'd have the trifecta of achieving a perfect body, wouldn't I? Eat right, cardio and lifting.

Maybe I already have the perfect body. Maybe this is it. What a concept, eh? Back in Rubens' time, M@rla and I would have been nude models, admired throughout the land. Maybe we should spend our energy developing time travel machines.

Then PQ said:

"And hell, if you're gaining/maintaining weight anyway when you eat healthy what do you have to lose by eating a chocolate bar from time to time? Only ever eating completely healthy food is as unbalanced in its own way as only eating processed junk food."

Well, "Bingo, again!" says I. [Not really, again.] Seriously, though, that second sentence is, um, profound. And I also meant to say yesterday that there are more calories in one of those packages of snack-size Snickers' you can get for a buck than there are in a full-sized Snickers bar. So yeah, why not just have a chocolate bar from time to time? You'll save a couple hundred calories. 'Cause I know you can eat a whole package of snack-sized ones.

So finding the balance, as Lori says, is at the root of the issue. At least for today. 'Cause you know it's going to be something else tomorrow.

So the knitting. I've been making Christmas stockings for my son, his wife and their new baby girl. I ran out of cream-colored yarn and am waiting for more before I can continue. I'm using a pattern I designed, an entrelac creation, but I'm changing it a little bit.

Knitters frequently take a pattern and tweak it and add and subtract and presto! They have something unique and all-their-own. How weird is it that I'm taking something all-my-own and tweaking it? Heh. Pictures will come later.

I'm using wool, the non-superwash kind, and using big needles and when the knitting is all done, I will throw them in the washer with a little dish detergent and agitate the hell out of them and shock them with hot and cold water and shrink them on purpose. [That's technically called 'fulling.' But it's really … get ready … more shrinking!]

[Hey! Maybe I could put myself in the old Kenmore, too! Come on over … party in my washing machine!]

The original pattern wasn't written for fulling, so we'll see if this experiment works. If it doesn't, I'll have to cut the stockings up and make Christmas coasters out of them. The kids will be so happy with that gift. Not.

Finally, here's the go read this part. You probably already have. I love Crazy Aunt Purl. Her book just came out and it's funny and sweet and sometimes heartbreaking. [And if you haven't bought it yet, what are you waiting for?] She's doing her book tour, so that 'go-read-this' link will take you to her blog post about the northwest U.S. leg of the trip. But it will also, if you read far enough, take you to a dressing room in a department store [which takes us back to shrinking] and, if you don't sniffle just a little bit, well … you're probably thin to start with. No offense.

The book tour is taking a swing through Nashville later this month and my daughter and I get to go see her! We are trés excited.

You know I'm excited when I start speaking French. Heh.

Leaf-peeping

Wow. Three posts in one day. And if I were spouting off my political views, there'd be a lot more.

Anyway, per Jeannie's request, a view of those West Virginia hills. This is looking out my front door, not the view I stopped to admire yesterday, but they all look pretty much the same – and that would be gorgeous!

Oops! Almost forgot

I missed my target time in yesterday's run by three minutes and 11 seconds. I'd hoped for 85 minutes. The best I've ever done on this route [many steep hills] is 87 minutes. The weather was perfect and the mountains were so beautiful. I had a great time, I really pushed myself and I only stopped twice because I had a stitch in my side. The second time I happened to turn around and I just had to stay there and enjoy the view. Not for three minutes and 11 seconds, but that pause did cut into my time.

But, like the song says, "The hills are alive." And they're dressed for a party!

Friday Quote Day

Maybe you should take a look at that.
Every therapist I've ever had

Well, of course, you're right [regarding yesterday's post] in saying e-mails and comments lack the human element and can be misunderstood. And we are hard enough on ourselves [although I sometimes dispute that one], so why pile it on? Like some of you, I want to say something helpful and constructive without being confrontational, but I don't want to sound like the bitch I sometimes am, so I back away.

A common theme running through many weight-loss blogs is "Why did I buy those [fill-in-the-blank] in the first place?"

I am sooooo freakin' guilty of this one.

And, at least for me, I think I've figured it out. This was quite a revelation when I started thinking about it.

When we start a weight-loss plan, one of the first pieces of advice is to toss all the goodies. Get rid of trigger foods, dump the sugary snacks, pour coffee grounds over the chips and push the rest of the crap down the garbage disposal.

So what happens next? We buy fruits and vegetables and lean meat and chicken breasts and we begin a lifetime of healthful eating. We sweat a little bit and, as time goes by, a little bit more. Sometimes a lot more. Sometimes we get obsessed with the sweating. [Who, me?]

And a month or two into the plan we find ourselves at the check-out counter with a bag of snack-sized Snickers bars in our cart. Okay, I'll just speak for myself.

Whatever it is, it's usually wrapped in cellophane, claims to have no trans-fats and sugar is the first ingredient. But who's reading the label? I just know it's been two months since I've had a treat and by golly, I deserve it!

Of course it rides in the passenger seat right beside me on the trip home. Now for me, this is a 20- to 30-minute drive, depending on if I'm the lead car or if I'm behind a coal truck. I can do a lot of damage in 20 minutes. After the damage is done, my first wail is, "Why did I keep this in the front seat with me?"

Not, "Why did I buy this in the first place?".

Because, you see, I really wanted it and needed it and craved it.

This sets up a self-destructive pattern where I connect being in the car by myself to eating forbidden fruit. Or chocolate. Or Wheat Thins. Pick your poison.

The food crack substance never makes it home. I always stop somewhere along the way to toss the remainder of the food [if there's any left] or the package [if I've inhaled the contents]. [And I don't litter; I know where the trash cans are.]

Now you may be out there thinking, "Well, no wonder she never loses any weight!" I might be thinking that, as well, if these little forays into the snack aisle resulted in a weight gain. But they don't. I've been the same weight, within five pounds, for a year now.

So where am I going with this? Maybe those experts who recommend not depriving yourself are right. Maybe I – okay, we – really should enjoy a guilt-free whatever every once in a while. The operative modifier there is "guilt-free." And "once in a while." When's the last time you savored a piece of fudge? Or enjoyed a brownie? How about pizza?

Until the Army Ten-Miler, I hadn't had a piece of real pizza in probably three years. [I don't count Lean Cuisine frozen as 'real.'] The night before the race, Mr. Shrinking Knitter and I went to California Pizza Kitchen. Because I had to have carbs, you know. Because I'd given myself permission to have that pizza [I recommend the Thai Chicken], I truly loved eating every bite. It was delicious! CPK serves "personal-sized" pizzas as big as dinner plates, but I didn't feel the need to eat it all; I was satisfied with half. And Mr. Shrinking Knitter was more than satisifed with his pizza and my other half. Heh.

I have stealth brownie and fudge stories, as well, but I'm sure you get the idea.

Obviously I'm still thinking things through. Yesterday was the beginning of the process; it took until the middle of the night to realize that one of the reasons I binge on red-light foods when I'm not at home is because there aren't any red-light foods at home. I'm still afraid that if there were, they'd be gone before the sun sets.

"Normal" people don't have these internal arguments. They buy or make a treat once in a while, they have a serving, and then they forget it's even in the pantry. Next time they put groceries away they find half a package of stale Doritos, which they promptly toss.

And they don't have to throw the coffee grounds on top of them.

Thinking things through

I'm not sure why I feel so blah today. Perhaps it's the cloud cover, although we could surely use some rain here in the Middle of Nowhere. I dreamt a lot last night; none of them were the pleasant variety, so I'm still tired.

Maybe it's because the training schedule says "Tempo Run" for today.

I [and probably thousands of other newbie runners] am not fond of tempo runs. Or speed drills. Or intervals. Or fartleks [which are supposed to be fun, damn it!]. I'm more of a plod along for miles and miles newbie, rather than the super-motivated, bust-your-ass kind. Built for distance, not for speed – that would be me.

So instead of driving seven miles to get to a flat road where I can work on revving up my engine, I'm going to stick to my hilly home road. I'll run as much as I can and walk or jog fast when I need to slow it down and my goal is to do this seven miles in 85 minutes. Which would be the fastest I've ever done it.

Now that I've written it down and announced it to both of you, I might feel a bit more motivation to actually step up the tempo when I'm out there.

Although, have you noticed that when we write that we've gained a couple pounds, or missed our target time, or eaten poorly or just plain fell down in our plan, that no one challenges us? No one says, "Hey – what were you thinking?" We don't want to seem rude or unsupportive, especially to virtual pals, so we remain cheerleaders when maybe, maybe, what we need is to be virtually slapped around.

But maybe, maybe, that's just me. What do you think? Would you be offended if someone said you should think things through to their logical conclusion?

That's something I need to print out in 120-point type and post in the kitchen, I think. Because I know if I looked ahead to how I'd feel tomorrow, I'd surely not eat whatever tempting thing is in the pantry tonight.

Hmmmm.

I keep forgetting …

for Cathy in Northern Virginia, who asked in a comment several days ago about a McNeer who was shot down over China in WWII – my husband has not heard of him. His father served in WWII in China, but came back and lived a good, long life here in the Middle of Nowhere. I tried to e-mail you, Cathy, but the addy I have bounced back to me.

They want you [well, me] as a new recruit

Okay, I know it's spam, but still. I got an e-mail yesterday from the Navy. Did, too! Here's a partial screenshot:

I guess they saw me cross the finish line at the Army Ten-Miler and decided to try to get me on their side. See what it says there in the first line? I have talent, determination and discipline. Heh.

And isn't this so cool? All I have to do is take a look at their offer and I get five free music downloads! Woo hoo!

The ATM didn't do me in. But there's always City of Oaks coming up in, gulp, 18 days.

As I mentioned Monday, Sunday's long run went very well. I even learned that I could pick up the pace a little bit when two puppies started chasing me down the road. I wasn't afraid of them, but I didn't want them following me so I outran them! Puppies!

I knew you'd be impressed.

Yesterday's easy run was supposed to be three miles at 13:08 [that's glacial for some of you, I know], and I spanked it. Did three miles fairly easily, and then I ran the extra mile to get back to my car. There was some, um, walking involved along with maybe a slight hill. Or two. The final pace was 12:19. I guess that qualifies as easy. It's good to see some progress, and I have to give Mother Nature all the credit. Cool temperatures and low humidity make a huge difference.

I see that many of you clicked out to visit Skwigg's blog post with the quotes and her great philosophy of life and fitness and food. You're welcome! I myself am not even close to being there yet, but I did print out the post and it will soon be Something to Read When I'm Still Not Losing Weight.

Along with maybe that really motivating e-mail. From the Navy! [Thank you, Village People, for the following lyrics. And no, I didn't have them committed to memory. That's what Lyrics007 is for.]

In the Navy …
Where can you find pleasure
Search the world for treasure
Learn science technology
Where can you begin to make your dreams all come true

Go read this

As you longtime readers know, I'm not young, I'm not muscular and I'm not thin.

What I am is motivated to work on my shortcomings. [I'm not tall, either.]

One of the ways I get and stay motivated is by reading what fitness bloggers have to say, and there's nothing I can say that tops this one from Skwigg.

I'm not where she is; I may never get there. But I can move myself in that direction: wanting to be healthy and fit instead of just looking like it.

Go. Read. Now. You'll be inspired.

The spooky season

Halloween is approaching. The stores around here replaced the aisles of school supplies with aisles of candy before Labor Day. Anything that lasts that long without getting stale can't be good for you, right?

I spend the week before Halloween with my older grandchildren. When they were younger, I got to pass out the candy so both parents could have the fun of walking with them. Last year my granddaughter trick-or-treated with a friend; I'm not sure if she's even going out begging this year. The little guy will, I'm sure.

The difference between them is that he loves sweets. Free candy! As much as he wants! You bet he'll be trick-or-treating. She, on the other hand, had a cavity filled a couple years ago and hasn't eaten much sugar since.

If only I could be as disciplined and motivated as that. Anyone can be an example of how to be – or not be – at any age.

If you're in the mood to make – but not eat – spooky sweets, here's something guaranteed to turn your stomach. Take this to the office potluck or neighborhood party and see how many people dig in! Looks like a lot of work to me. I'm only willing to invest that kind of time and energy cooking or baking when I know I'm actually going to be eating it.

Trick-or-treat night is Wednesday this year; I'll be up bright and early the next morning to come home before leaving Friday for North Carolina. City of Oaks is 20 days away. I got a call yesterday from someone I met in DC who got her CofO confirmation. She likes to do inaugural races, and is looking for one that she can do every year for the next 10 years. She's sixty and is planning to run races until she can't run any more.

I like her attitude. And I guess the way you keep on running is, well, to keep on running.

My long run yesterday went very well. I was supposed to do nine miles; I ended up doing more than 10 at exactly the prescribed pace of 13:08. I don't think I've hit my pace yet in this round of training. Cooler weather makes such a difference. I ran in shorts and a short-sleeved tee, and was sweating by the second mile.

Congratulations to Mary on her finish in cold, wet, miserable conditions. Sounds like she had a lot of fun in spite of the blisters.

Gotta run

I think I might take Sundays off from blogging from now on. Sundays are my long-run day and I would do better if I got up and ran instead of got up, drank coffee, read blogs and the NYTimes, and generally wasted the morning away. It's not quite 8 a.m. yet, so there's a lot of morning left … plus it just sounds good to me to have a day [or maybe two!] each week where I don't have to show up here.

Good luck to Mary in her half-marathon today! I just took a look at the Denver Marathon website and they're waiving the entry fee for Chicago runners who want to finish in Denver. Talk about going from the ridiculous to the sublime – Chicago's temps were in the 90s, Denver's are in the 40s!

So … as the title says … gotta run!

Will you still need me, will you still feed me …

when I'm sixty-four?

That's what Mr. Shrinking Knitter heard blasting from the iPod speakers yesterday when he woke up. Yep, he turned 64 – how did I end up married to such an old guy? And don't worry, we're an equal-opportunity couple when it comes to insults. He wonders how he ended up marrying a grandmother. Heh.

There's even a line in the song about knitting: "You can knit a sweater by the fireside."

If you don't like to look at food porn, don't read the next paragraph.

We invited his mother for dinner, which consisted of Outback's axed-from-the-menu Walkabout Soup; my pasta/chicken sausage/vegetable/pesto concoction; tossed greens with thinly sliced apples, walnuts, bleu cheese, olive oil and red wine vinegar; sun-dried tomato/basil/quinoa/sunflower seed bread, and brownies with peanut-butter ice cream and hot-fudge sauce.

Hey! I warned you!

I found out after all these years that his mother is allergic to sun-dried tomatoes. I expect she's allergic to the sulfites used to preserve them. Oh, well. More bread for us!

So yesterday was pretty busy, what with all the mixing and kneading and chopping and preparing and stirring, not to mention the dust-mopping, bathroom-scrubbing and furniture-polishing. But I still managed an easy three-miler. Except it wasn't easy! How can I get through eight miles one day with relatively little trouble [except I was slower than I wanted to be], and then barely manage to eke out three purposely slow miles?

Some days you got it, some days you don't.

I hope you get it today, whatever it is you're working for. Me? It's a rest day, so I'll be watching football and knitting.

Thanks, as always, for your comments yesterday. I want to clear up one thing: I don't think I've ever starved myself. Maybe in high school [when I weighed what I'd love to weigh now, but thought I was as fat as a house]. I think my metabolism is just … broken. It really doesn't respond to anything. More exercise equals sore muscles, less food equals the same number on the scale, but my weight hasn't fluctuated more than five pounds since last winter. Which, when I tally up all the miles I've run since then, is kind of depressing.

Kind of! Who am I kidding!

Friday Quote Day

The only thing that interferes
with my learning
is my education.
~ Albert Einstein

That quote sums it up for all of us trying to lose weight and get in shape, doesn't it?

How can we figure out what's right for us when we are constantly bombarded educated by media, health websites, government agencies, physicians and bloggers as to why we're not losing and what we need to do about it. As if we all fit into the same mold.

I feel as though I've wasted so much time figuring this out, and I'm not much better off than when I started.

Now before you all chime in and tell me how fit I am, and weight doesn't matter, I agree, sort of. I'm happy to be able to run eight miles [even if it took much longer yesterday than I'd hoped]. I'm thrilled with my normal blood pressure, low resting heartrate and excellent cholesterol levels.

But weight matters, or I – and you – wouldn't still be trying to find the solution. And what I've finally learned is that one size does not fit all.

Many of you have suggested I need to eat more, because that's what we've learned lately from researchers who theorize that when we eat too little our bodies go into starvation mode. I'm sorry, but I've never bought that theory. If I were truly starving, then yes, of course, one's body would do whatever it takes to survive, including wasting muscle.

Last time I tried Weight Watchers, Activity Points were being introduced. Want a cookie? Walk a mile and you can have one. Well, a small one. As an experiment, I followed their plan strictly, eating all my APs for a month, and – you guessed it – gained weight.

So we're all different, and we all lose weight in different ways.

Meaning I don't want everyone running to their doctors for Wellbutrin. 'Kay?

Brrrrrr!

It's quite chilly this morning, and windy, as well. And can you see those overnight lows? Maybe summer is finally over!
And may I just say, "Hallelujah!" You won't hear me complaining about cold weather. I have an eight-mile run scheduled today; for the first time since I started training for City of Oaks, I don't feel like I have to get out early to avoid the heat. I might even wear the new long-sleeved high-tech shirt I bought in DC.

In other running news, I just learned [I'm a little slow] that the top American finisher at LaSalle is from a little town about an hour away from me. He coaches at Concord University and will be competing November 3 in the Olympic trials.

About Chicago, he said it was 'brutal.' I don't think anyone who was there would disagree. Right, Jess?

Since Mr. Shrinking Knitter didn't learn how to operate my camera before he hit the spectator area, I had to depend on ASIPhoto to get a good shot of me at the Army Ten-Miler. This is the best they could do. They didn't get a decent finish-line shot; this one, obviously, was taken much earlier in the run, when I wasn't feeling quite so grim. And was also looking kind of dorky, maybe? Oh, well.

Jodi wants to know: "i've never lost my appetite, over anything, what is that like?"

It is, in a word, astonishing.

When that particular side effect kicked in last month, I was planning to go to my new granddaughter's baptism. That's a four-hour road trip and usually, for me, a license to eat a little more liberally. While I love McDonald's Asian Grilled Chicken fresh salad, I also love something sweet, or salty, or carby, or … well, you get the idea.

On that trip, though, I didn't eat a thing. Coffee and water, that was it. My son and his wife had lunch stuff at their house when I got there; I had half a turkey sandwich and some fruit. Half a sandwich! Dinner that night was in a lovely Italian restaurant, where I ordered grilled chicken with mixed fresh vegetables. I sent almost all of it back. Breakfast next morning? Fruit. Coffee.

During that time I lost six or seven pounds, I started feeling more normal, my energy level increased dramatically and I thought that maybe this was something I could live with.

You know the rest. I start the full dose tomorrow; we'll see if I get the same results.

The down side – there's always a down side – is that in order to finish a lengthy run, you have to readily access some kind of fuel. I realize I have a lot of fat to lose, but that's not what helps you run. And I've had several hypoglycemic episodes in the past after not eating for long periods of time. I'd hate for that to happen out on one of my running routes. Thus, my decision to force-feed for future pre- and post-runs.

The other down side is that I still don't like taking pills. Since my mood is mostly a result of my inability to lose weight, no matter what I do, maybe if I'm able to make a dent in the excess poundage I'll be able to feel better without them. Eventually. So I look at this as a short-term experiment.

I'm not setting any time limits or goals, though. That's a surefire route to failure, going on past experience.

One day at a time …

Better living through chemistry

DuPont's venerable advertising slogan fits a variety of modern-day situations, including the one I find myself in now. Raise your hand if you've ever repeated the title of this post in a drug- or alcohol-induced fit of giggles. [For the record, the original slogan was "Better Things for Better Living … Through Chemistry."]

I've never been one to run to the doctor for every little thing, nor do I like taking pills. That's why my daily vitamins and calcium supplements look like this:

But sometimes you just gotta do what you gotta do, and when I had my mini-breakdown last month it became quite clear to me that enough was enough. So I started taking Wellbutrin.

Dr. C and I picked Wellbutrin because it has two desirable side effects: loss of appetite and agitation. Mr. Shrinking Knitter will tell you I'm about the most laid-back, non-anxious person you'll ever meet [he makes up for it], so a little agitation is a Good Thing. And loss of appetite? Do we even need to analyze that? Of course, not all patients experience side effects, so it's a crap shoot anyway.

So I took it for a couple weeks and did, indeed, experience a dramatic loss of appetite. It was very cool, actually. I occasionally felt physical hunger, but rarely wanted to eat. Food was unappealing in every way; it didn't look, smell or taste good at all.

And then something bit me on the leg. It was a nasty bite, the redness surrounding the bite site spread rapidly and I developed a rash. Dr. Internet and I diagnosed it as a recluse spider bite, but Dr. C didn't agree. He did, however, point out that Wellbutrin also can cause a rash, and suggested I discontinue it until the rash cleared up.

Back came the appetite, down went the energy and this all happened leading up to the race last Sunday. I was somewhat of a mess, as you might imagine. But I decided to just Get Through It, come hell or high water. So to speak.

And, obviously, I did. I went back on the Wellbutrin Monday and am hoping that once I'm up to a full dose again [you have to start with half a dose daily and titrate up], that loss of appetite phenomenon will kick back in.

The bad thing about not eating is it doesn't help with running. I plan to force myself to eat prior to and immediately after my workouts and let the chips fall where they may.

Have I dredged up enough clichés for one post yet? Heh.

I gave myself Monday and Tuesday off – the schedule said "easy three-mile run" for yesterday, but I'll do it today. It was in the upper 80s yesterday and I just couldn't force myself out the door in running gear. Flashbacks or something.

I appreciate very much all your comments welcoming me back into the fold. I hope to have some weight-loss progress to report soon. And I've been knitting, socks and fingerless gloves, with Christmas stockings on deck.

How's this for a survey question?

The lovely folks from the Army Ten-Miler sent a link to a survey for us finishers to complete, if we wanted to. Here's the first question:

I guess they thought we all might still be a bit addled from the heat.

My experience was, generally, quite good. Race organizers can't control the weather. Maybe Al Gore could work a little harder on that before next year's fall races?

One of the female runners I met in DC is a little older than I am, and quite a bit more experienced. I talked with her yesterday and they had run out of water by the time she got to the five-mile mark. So I was very lucky that fluids were available to me the entire route.

For those of you who haven't registered for a race before, you have to put down a predicted finish time. Your time determines where you are in the starting corrals – slower runners start later, and I was in the last corral. It seems logical to put down a faster time, whether you can meet it or not. Of course, that would be lying. It didn't occur to me to do that when I registered, as I'm not a liar, but if it meant I would cross the starting line sooner – and thus be assured of having fluids available … hmmmm.

At any rate, spectators stepped up and offered her water and trail mix; I've read elsewhere that Chicago spectators also saved the day for some of the LaSalle runners.

Nearly everyone staying at our hotel was in the race. The civilian runners, all apparently from the same club, were kinda snooty. I'm sure they thought the chubby old lady was the spectator and my husband, who is pretty lean, was the runner. Even though I was wearing my Country Music Marathon shirt! But the military runners were, without fail, enthusiastic, encouraging, polite, enthusiastic, interested, interesting, and did I mention enthusiastic? The volunteers, many of them military as well, were handing out high-fives and hoooahs all along the route.

I think what got me through it in somewhat good shape was thinking of it as a training run, not a race. All I wanted to do was finish and add one more star to my training chart. I ran it about a minute slower than my race pace, which is fine with me. Cooler weather, or cloud cover, or even a breeze would have helped, but hey – it is what it is, and it's over!

And it's good to be back. I'll update you on the antidepressants tomorrow.

I didn't die and I wasn't last

Hi, kids! Long time, no post. But you knew it would be a while.

A lot has happened since last we met. First, though, I really have to hand it to you Florida runners. The Army Ten-Miler was held in swamplike conditions, and if you weren't conditioned for it you suffered. I was semi-conditioned, and I semi-suffered. I feel very badly for the family of the runner who died. I haven't found out how old he was, but I do know he collapsed just 200 yards from the finish line.

While I was running – or walking, take your pick – I saw three runners carried off the course. It was brutal out there. Fortunately they didn't run out of water or Gatorade – or cups, as they did in Chicago. The New York Times story about LaSalle said runners were picking cups up off the road to be filled by volunteers.

I missed my target finish time by 12 minutes – chip time was 2:12:08. I was 106th out of 148 in my age group. I met a lovely woman from Missouri on the hotel shuttle bus and we ran together the whole way. This was her first-ever race and I hope she had fun. I lost her after the finish. She beat me by one hundreth of a second. [I let her win! Heh.]

Since Mr. Shrinking Knitter is camera-challenged, I have no finish photos, but will snag one when the offical race photography company posts them later this week.

I'll be back tomorrow with more about what's been going on around here.

Results

First, for Jeannie, I responded to your comment in the comments from today's previous post.

Dr. C called today to report that all my lab values were "within normal ranges." Someone from the office was supposed to fax me the actual pages so I could look at the actual numbers, but no one has done it yet. I think I'll send them to Wendy to analyze after I get them. Heh.

A few posts ago, Jonathan said maybe the best thing would be to just put it all aside for a bit. I'm going to take his advice. I feel like I don't have any other options at this point.

Since this is a weight-loss blog, and there's no weight loss going on, I'm going to put this aside for a while, as well. I'll update my times after I complete the Army Ten-Miler and the Raleigh Half, and I might go in and update knitting progress. But there's just no point in trying to pump myself up and be cheerful, or even not-cheerful, about something at which I'm such a failure.

It takes a couple weeks for an antidepressant's effects to kick in; maybe I'll feel like checking in next month. But I kind of feel like Beth must have felt when she stopped writing. I really missed Beth for a long, long time. I've kept the link to her blog in my sidebar because she gave me so much hope for such a long time.

I just don't feel like doing this any more.

War has been waged over water

At least that's what my husband says, every time we have to write another check to repair something so that we can enjoy a daily shower.

I did get my run in [and my daily shower] before the repairmen came yesterday morning, and a forceful stream of water is once again coursing through the veins of our spliced water line. Paul – it's really kind of a shame when you're on a first-name basis with the guy who installed your water pump – informed me that there was a thicker water pipe available now, but since we paid an ungodly amount of money for the current water line, I just thanked him for sharing.

Still don't have blood test results back. It's been a week. Apparently the way our insurance works is that if the hospital lab analyzes my blood, we have to pay out of pocket. If the hospital sends my blood out to a particular – and apparently slow – lab, the insurance pays for it. At least until October 1, when a new and definitely not improved plan kicks in. I feel like going back to the doctor and asking him to order all kinds of fancy-schmancy tests, to take advantage of this previously unknown-to-me benefit.

I favor the healthcare reform proposed by the good folks at Physicians for a National Health Plan. [You don't have to be a physician to join, and non-physicians only pay $40 for a year's membership. Hint, hint.] I'm not articulate enough to explain their plan here, so I hope you'll click over and then ask your congressional representative to endorse HR676.

Hillary's proposal is all over the news this week, and I happened to catch some of Rush Limbaugh's commentary yesterday afternoon. [I'm a reformed Republican; now I listen to Rush to see what the "other side" is up to.]

Frankly, I would think Rush and his ilk would be supporting the Dems' proposals, as they all [except Kucinich] endorse a plan that hands insurance companies a goose on a golden platter. Sounds like it would be pretty good for big business.

One of these days my husband and I will have to decide whether to pay an insurance premium … or Paul, the water guy.

Bye-bye, food blog

The astute among you will already have noticed the link to my food blog is gone, as is the blog itself. It was a two-week experiment, useful insofar as I learned my metabolism is, indeed, boots-up. The good Dr. C duly noted that I eat reasonably healthful foods in reasonable amounts; that's really why I kept the log. I'm glad to not be doing it any longer; I already log my food in CalorieKing, and it was getting kind of cumbersome to copy/paste the data from that log and then format it for the food blog.

I lifted weights yesterday. Three sets, 15 reps, eight pounds, six different moves, plus some bench work and 60 crunches. I think I'm ready to bump the weight up to 10 pounds. No other strenuous activity took place, unless you count knitting.

I had taken a donate-to-charity mitten project with me to work on over the weekend, because mittens are portable and easy. The wife of a couple we know said mittens are hard to find; she and her husband have been looking all over for them. Seems mittens these days are being made as half-mittens with a flap that you can flip back so you can use your fingers. Her husband wants plain, old-fashioned mittens. So now that the charity pair is done, I'm making a pair for him.

Before we left last Friday our neighbor came up the driveway on his four-wheeler to ask how our water was doing. He'd found a leak in our line. Bingo! We had noticed a slight reduction in water pressure, so I called the repair guys and asked to be put on the non-emergency schedule. They should be here today. Since I have to wait for them to either call or show up, I'm stuck not running this morning. Also? If something happens and they don't get the line fixed, I would be stuck not being able to shower. Not showering after a run is not a good look for me.

Meaning I'll have to do my easy three-miler later this afternoon, but probably tomorrow.

I was supposed to do 19 miles last week [also this week]; I ended up with 21.2. I should be able to match or exceed 21 this week, especially if these lovely cool mornings hang around for a while longer. And they should – it is September in the mountains in the Middle of Nowhere, after all.

Monday Quote Day

Continuous effort –
not strength or intelligence –
is the key to unlocking our potential.
~ Winston Churchill

No, I'm not adding a quote day or switching from Friday to Monday. But quote days are easy and I'm still in weekend mode, so I'm just making up for last Friday when I was gone.

Hi! I'm back! Still don't have any blood test results to report on. I should get them today.

I was practicing continuous effort this weekend, even though I told myself I would relax. I was so happy to be someplace with a long, smoothly paved surface, in weather that was about as close to perfect as you could get, that it was easy to get out and run both Saturday and Sunday mornings. So the effort I put in was targeted toward speed.

But since we were just one state away, the topography is similar to ours. The hills weren't quite as steep, nor quite as long, but there were there, and, as always, that's what slows me down.

I did seven miles in 92 minutes Saturday morning and 5.2 miles in 65 minutes Sunday morning. I was supposed to have done an easy two-mile run Saturday and an eight-miler Sunday. Bad Debbi!

Not really bad. I felt good enough running that I just didn't want to stop. Let's hope I feel like that for the Army Ten-Miler!

I relaxed a bit with food, but not much. It's hard to just throw caution to the wind and eat whatever you like after a lifetime of eating carefully. Those of you just starting out on an intuitive eating program probably know how this feels. That's a big reason I haven't wandered down the IE path. I imagine I would feel pretty frustrated at not being able to do that right, either!

Anyway, the weekend was relaxing and enjoyable and now it's over. We're already looking forward to next year. I hope your weekend was just as nice.

Blog break

Except for the length of time I spent at the doctor's office and hospital yesterday, all went well. Dr. C totally got it that my frustration level was at the bursting point. He didn't doubt for a minute that I was eating reasonable amounts of healthy food or that I was running and working out like a crazy person.

Heh.

I was most proud of my resting pulse rate – just 62 – and believe me it was resting. I sat in the waiting room for more than an hour and spent another 40 minutes in the examination room before I spoke with Dr. C himself.

We discussed symptoms, feelings, diet, exercise – the only topics we missed were religion or politics – and he ordered lots of blood tests to rule out/confirm anemia and hypothyroidism. He also started me on an antidepressant.

I feel better just by being proactive about the whole thing. I'll be one of those people wailing about wasting all that time trying to snap out of it on my own, when the answer was to simply admit I had a problem I couldn't solve, and ask for help from someone who could.

Thanks again for all your comments. I appreciate all of you so much.

I didn't have much time to run outside yesterday so I hopped on the treadmill for the two-mile easy run I was supposed to have done Tuesday. Today is seven miles of speedwork, but I'm not going to worry my pretty little head about hitting a 10:59 pace for three of those miles. I'm going to do seven miles on my hilly road and call it done, and I'll be sure to fly down the hills and on the flats.

I'll be away from the computer until Monday ... I hope everyone has a great weekend. If you're racing, may you post a new personal best and if you're training may the temperatures be moderate and the humidity low.

Thank you, thank you, thank you

It is so cool to learn one is not alone, even in cyberspace. Thank you for sharing your own experiences with depression and, more importantly, taking drugs to manage it. I'm a recovering alcoholic, and we don't generally think taking mood-altering drugs is such a great idea, which is probably why I've tried to soldier on on my own for such a long time.

Coming out of this particular closet has been a double-edged sword. It's a relief to finally just let the tension and anxiety of it whoosh right out of me. Naming it, acknowledging it, offers some freedom from it, and having a plan to manage it offers even more.

But I also find myself not fighting it at all, which means I'm caving in to the fatigue. I did absolutely nothing yesterday. Nothing. At. All. Last week I could force myself to, oh, run the dustmop or take the trash out. This week? Not so much.

The garbage gets picked up later this morning, so I got up early this morning to drag the bag down the driveway. Does that count as aerobic activity? Heh.

There hasn't been much shrinking going on around here lately, but I am knitting. I ran out of yarn with one sleeve to go on the charity sweater, so I had to rip it all out and make a hat and mitten set instead. Then I pulled out a couple balls of beige wool and started these socks. [Except I'm doing them toe-up instead of cuff-down, and I did short-row heels instead of flap-and-gusset heels. You knitters will know what I'm talkin' about.] I'm going to give them to my AA sponsor, who is recovering from foot surgery to correct plantar fasciitis.

What would we runners do if our occasional bouts of plantar fasciitis got so bad we had to have surgery? Perish the thought.

Yesterday I was supposed to run two easy miles. See paragraph three, above. I'll make up for that today, come hell or high water. [In addition to yesterday's incredible fatigue, it also rained – rained! – most of the day, so that was another good-enough reason to shift the schedule around.] Fall is creeping into the mountains here; we couldn't be more pleased to see green leaves turning yellow and red as they float down to land on the crunchy brown grass.

Today is my doctor appointment. I'm looking forward to having some blood drawn. Actually, what I'm looking forward to is doing something about the way I've been feeling.

Thanks again for all your kind words. You have no idea how much it means to me.

I didn't see it coming

Well, maybe I did. A little.

I've pretty much spent the last week or so napping or sleeping. Or napping. Or playing computer solitaire. Are you getting the picture here? It helps to be married to a shrink, who has confirmed the diagnosis.

I'm depressed. Clinically. We went over the pharmaceutical options together, and when I go to my doctor on Wednesday I'll be requesting not only a thryoid test but also a complete blood count [to rule out anemia] and some Wellbutrin.

Last week's running schedule was, thankfully, a light one. I was supposed to run four days for a total of just 13 miles; I did 17 in three. I can't imagine how I would feel if I weren't releasing at least a couple of endorphins by running.

I've been forcing myself to post here every day, but I don't think I can keep it up on an every-day basis until I start feeling better. I'll be out of town this weekend, so a longish break is in the offing anyway. And the weekend event is a spiritual retreat – perfect timing, doncha think?

And now, for something completely different …

You may have seen these before; I hadn't. While I'm mostly against pharmaceutical companies creating lifestyle drugs for fun and profit, some of these have real potential.

DAMNITOL
Take 2 and the rest of the world can go to hell for up to 8 full hours.

EMPTYNESTROGEN
Suppository that eliminates melancholy and loneliness by reminding you of how awful they were as teenagers and how you couldn't wait till they moved out.

ST. MOMMA'S WORT
Plant extract that treats mom's depression by rendering preschoolers unconscious for up to two days.

PEPTOBIMBO
Liquid silicone drink for single women. Two full cups swallowed before an evening out increases breast size, decreases intelligence, and prevents conception.

DUMBEROL
When taken with Peptobimbo, can cause dangerously low IQ, resulting in enjoyment of eating raw vegetables and dieting.

FLIPITOR
Increases life expectancy of commuters by controlling road rage and the urge to flip off other drivers.

MENICILLIN
Potent anti-boy-otic for older women. Increases resistance to such lethal lines as, "You make me want to be a better person."

BUYAGRA
Injectable stimulant taken prior to shopping Increases potency, duration, and credit limit of spending spree.

JACKASSPIRIN
Relieves headache caused by a man who can't remember your birthday, anniversary, phone number, or to lift the toilet seat.

ANTI-TALKSIDENT
A spray carried in a purse or wallet to be used on anyone too eager to share their life stories with total strangers in elevators.

NAGAMENT
When administered to a boyfriend or husband, provides the same irritation level as nagging him.

A rare Saturday quote day

Many people fail in life,
not for lack of ability or brains or even courage
but simply because they have never organized
their energies around a goal.
~ Elbert Hubbard

Your comments on Thursday are most appreciated.

Many of you had never visited here before; most of the hits I've gotten the last two days were from referrals after PastaQueen included a link in her blog. So, welcome! And I hope you'll come back!

What I'm about to say is going to make me sound terminally unique, and that's not my intent. But here goes.

I'm not a young, athletic woman in the middle of my reproductive years. Those days are long gone and, in fact, I've never been what one would call 'athletic.' What I'm left with now is a sluggish body that doesn't move as easily as it used to. Nor does it burn calories efficiently, if at all. Nearly everyone puts on a little weight as he or she ages; I'm certainly no exception there.

As a middle-aged, postmenopausal, mostly sedentary woman, my body doesn't respond to regimens of eating and exercising the way younger bodies do. If you – you youngsters out there – hit a plateau, you can try all the suggestions you gave me and something will, most likely, work.

I've tried them, not in the very recent past, but I did last winter, with no success. What I learned is that if I eat more, I gain more weight. If I take an exercise break, I gain more weight. And I'm worse off than if I'd just stayed on the plateau.

Now the down side of staying on the plateau is that it absolutely wrecks my mental and emotional health. And that's where I've been for quite a while now. I'm not sure what to do about it.

I liked Jonathan's suggestion best: He thought I might find some peace if I quit banging my head against the wall and just stopped for a bit. Honestly, though? I don't know how to do that. Whether I eat poorly or well, I'm conscious of making choices and counting things up and dreading the next time I weigh myself. I've been fighting this fight for most of my life.

I don't know how to stop, but oh, how I wish I did. My head is bloody from the beating I've given it. Not to mention the wall.

Blog break

Thank you all so much for your recent comments. I just realized I won't be here tomorrow for an in-depth analysis or for Friday Quote Day. Mr. Shrinking Knitter needs a chauffeur [did I spell that right?] beginning at oh-dawn-thirty.

I'll be back Saturday.

A smidge of progress

If you're just joining us here, the Shrinking Knitter has been keeping a precise count of calories in/calories out for the past two weeks. After week one, she experienced a net weight gain of two pounds. It's now the end of week two, and one of those pounds has vanished!

Can you believe it? Me, neither. Heh. Here's the breakdown:

Week One: 1258 calories eaten, 438 calories burned, 48 minutes daily activity
Week Two: 1245 calories eaten, 449 calories burned, 51 minutes daily activity

I'm going to micromanage this for one more week, so I'll have three weeks of data to present to the doctor.

It's not worth it, y'all. If I have to work this hard to lose half a pound a week, I might as well go have a hot fudge sundae and say the hell with it.

After I run, of course. I crack myself up.

This is a cutback week in my training program, but I think instead of today's scheduled "easy" three miles I'll just head out the front door and do the 6.6- or 7.3- or whatever-it-is-loop again. I've got the Shuffle culled down to 90 minutes of tunes with a true running tempo. Maybe that'll help me get all the way up the hills.

Here's something you probably don't know about me [this has nothing to do with weight loss]. The plane Steve Fossett was flying when he disappeared Monday is a souped-up version of the one I got my pilot's license in. Yes, I'm a licensed private pilot, single-engine, land, but not current [meaning I would not be permitted to take a passenger up with me, since it's been so long since I've had a flight physical or check ride].

I was 29 or 30 when I started taking flying lessons in my dad's Bellanca Citabria ["airbatic" spelled backwards, which means the plane was designed to do loops and rolls and spins, oh my!]. Fossett's Bellanca Decathlon is the Citabria's big brother, with a more powerful engine and an inverted fuel system, so it can actually fly upside-down. The Citabria couldn't do that for more than a few seconds before the engine would quit.

We called the plane the "City Brat." Here's what it looked like:

Dad sold the plane when he moved to Florida 11 years ago; I moved to West Virginia shortly after that, and I haven't been pilot in command since. It makes me kind of nervous to fly commercial because I like to see what's going on out the front window, not the side! I guess the flying chapter of my life is over, but it makes for nice memories.

P.S. I forgot to tell Wendy that no, I don't count out 48 pretzel sticks for a serving, but I do weigh them in a container on my food scale. Aren't I a good little weight watcher?

A nip in the air

When I left the prison last night, the sky was black, the stars were out and there was a definite nip of fall in the air. Today's temperatures will still feel like summer, but relief is on the way. It's September, after all!

I ate a bunch o' crap yesterday; just couldn't seem to stop grazing. I was able to rein it in under the calorie limit, thanks to a "clean" kitchen – for the most part, my pantry and refrigerator are junk-food-free – but my nutrition was way off. Only 13% protein and 50% fat. Not a good combo. And it didn't even taste that great.

When you get into a grazing mood, it really doesn't matter how food tastes, does it? Just so it's food.

Since I'm Garmin-less, I have to rely on my car's odometer to determine my mileage. I've double-checked the flat roads at MapMyRun, and the odometer is correct. But when I used MMR to check the 6.6-mile loop I do on the road on which I live, it came out to 7.3 miles. Can hills make that much difference? I'd love to use the longer distance – that's an instant improvement in my pace! – but I probably should stay with the more conservative number. It took 94 minutes yesterday to do the loop. I ran halfway up most of the hills, all the way up one and flew down all of them.

PQ, if you're lookin' for hills, we've got 'em! I tried to get the elevation of my road, but … dial-up. Need I say more? Or maybe I'm just getting more impatient the older I get. Heh.

I had the Shuffle with me and made a mental note of the songs that got me moving. Keeping in mind that I'm a. Slow and b. Short, you might find some of these tunes worthy of adding to your playlist:

• Thunder on the Mountain, Bob Dylan
• Elvis Presley Blues, Jimmy Buffett
• Run Like Hell, Pink Floyd
• Pressure, Billy Joel
• Graceland, Paul Simon
• Rain, The Cult
• Real Wild Child, Christopher Otcasek
• Tell Me What the Papers Say, Elton John
• You May Be Right, Billy Joel
• Yours to Keep, Teddybears
• Running Free, Iron Maiden
• Run and Run, Psychedelic Furs
• Run, Run, Run, Velvet Underground
• Running on Empty, Jackson Browne

and one from my daughter's playlist:

• Straw Hat and Old Dirty Hank, Barenaked Ladies

Stealing a technique from the Wendy, I leave you with these most appropriate lyrics from Billy Joel's "Pressure":

You have to learn to pace yourself
Pressure
You're just like everybody else
Pressure
You've only had to run so far
So good
But you will come to a place
Where the only thing you feel
Are loaded guns in your face
And you'll have to deal with
Pressure

I can't think of a good title this morning. Heh.

Wendy was absolutely right in her comment yesterday about continuing to train throughout the winter to get ready for next spring's Country Music Half.

I'd like to routinely run 30 miles a week – every week – for fitness, weight loss and health. The longest week in the current training regimen is only 25, so stretching it to 30 doesn't seem like it would be too hard to achieve. It would be much, much easier if I could run these miles on my own road, instead of having to drive someplace else in order to run on a relatively flat road.

There aren't many truly flat stretches of road in this part of West Virginia.

However. When I first moved here, 10 years ago, I could run a 6.6-mile loop on my very hilly road without stopping. Of course I was a lot younger then, and a lot thinner, but I think – with some discipline – I could work my way back to doing that. I certainly have the motivation; I'd love to just walk down the driveway and start running. And I think that's what I'm going to do today. It's supposed to be an easy four-miler; if I do the 6.6-mile loop I could probably get four running miles in. Is that cheating?

I've taken the Shuffle along with me the last couple of runs. I was seriously annoyed with it Sunday, after about the sixth mile, and turned it off. But it helped keep me focused most of the time and I'll be taking it with me again this morning. I've been trying to remember how I trained the first time, and the Shuffle was a big part of the routine.

Remember how I didn't expect to lose any weight [and didn't] last winter? And remember how I was okay with that? Obviously, I'm not okay with it any more. I didn't restrict calories then as I am now. Simple physics should yield some success in this area: Burn more than you eat and you should shed some weight. It occurred to me yesterday that high humidity isn't the only factor in my having to take so many walking breaks; calorie restriction is certainly playing a role in my lack of stamina.

Yesterday I did a paltry 15 minutes on the rowing machine – paltry because I'd intended to do 30 and just got too bored to finish. But I followed that with 30 quality minutes with the weight bench and dumbbells. And 100 crunches. I was seriously tired and dripping sweat when I finished, so I know it was a productive workout. And, of all things, my triceps hurt. Those kickbacks are killer! Wonder if I'm ready for a bench dip yet – something I've never been able to do.

Every day's a holiday

When you don't work outside the home in a real job, Labor Day – the holiday Americans celebrate today – is just another day. That's how a pessimist would approach the subject.

Because I've been in an emotional slump lately, I deliberately chose the optimist's view for today's title. Mind over matter!

I worked yesterday, well and hard, and feel like I deserve a day off today. Good thing it's a scheduled rest day, right? My long run was supposed to be seven miles but I always run it on a four-mile-long road. Out-and-back is eight miles, that's what I felt like doing and that's what I did. It took for-freaking-ever, but I did it.

I'd hoped, since it was cooler, I could finish in 96 minutes – a 12-minute pace – but it took 102 minutes, so 12:47. The humidity is still the culprit. I can't seem to [insert whispery voice] go the distance [pat yourself on the back if you know what movie that line is from!] without having to gulp for air and walk for a minute every couple of miles.

If I were running fast I wouldn't mind all these walk breaks, but I run like a 56-year-old fat lady. In my mind I'm tall and tan and young and lovely [pat yourself on the back again if you know song that line is from!], pumping my arms effortlessly and covering distance at the speed of light. But in reality I'm huffing and puffing and struggling.

And burning calories! I comfort myself by thinking the longer I'm out there, the more energy I'm using, the more stamina I'm developing, the more my muscles are training to reach farther and at a quicker pace. Because I do try.

I just can't keep it up for any significant length of time.

According to my training log [I use the one at Runner's World's website], in August I ran 69 miles in 15:31:02. That's a 13:49 pace. It's also an average of half an hour of running every day.

Definitely room for improvement.

Oh, well. It's much more pleasant to be running when it's cool, and I'm enjoying it quite a bit more than I did even two weeks ago.

I like running so much that I went ahead and registered for next year's Country Music Half-Marathon. I remember thinking when I finished last year that I probably wouldn't do it again, as the hills are hard, especially at the ninth – or was it the tenth? – mile. But, like labor, time is a great amnesiac.

Different kind of labor, obviously. Have a great holiday!

I rule!

Well, not really. But nearly every time I lift weights, which I do in my garage, I have a mental picture of Lester Burnham in American Beauty. And that, naturally, leads me to think of my favorite line in the whole movie, which is the title of this post.

I don't mind [too much ] that the body-fat scale says I'm 40 percent blubber, now that I've had a day to think about it. I had no trouble at all motivating myself to get out there and pretend to be Lester for half an hour yesterday. I did some bench work and a set of pyramids [two sets of 15-20 reps of six different moves at four and eight pounds, and one set of 10-12 reps of six moves at 12 pounds]. And 40 crunches. And then I ran four miles.

As for the accuracy of the scale, Mr. Shrinking Knitter's measured 25.5 percent; we both agreed that was probably right for him. Bless his heart [can you tell I'm turning Southern?], when I asked him to guess what mine was he said, "Twenty?"

When I said it was 40, he looked as shocked as I did.

I think I'll keep him.

For some reason I don't mind confessing the 40 percent, while I still have a hard time stating my weight. I've never said how much I weigh here on the blog; I've always thought I would divulge my starting weight when I finally reached my goal.

So I guess if you're dying to know how much I weigh, this would be a good time to practice patience, Grasshopper.

The other thing about the accuracy of the number is that it really doesn't matter. It's a benchmark – if I continue to run, do yoga, lift weights and eat healthfully, I should make some downward progress.

Of course I think my weight should go down, as well, and that ain't happening!

My doctor's appointment is in 10 days; I may or may not continue to bore you with my obsession about this. Maybe I'll finally get the kitchen cupboards cleaned out and I'll bore you with that.

What's a blog for, after all? Heh.

I love the 80s

Can you believe this? No 90-degree temperatures are predicted for the next six days!

A lovely cold front whipped through here yesterday afternoon, sending the humidity way down and plunging evening temperatures into the 50s. It was heavenly to walk outside and not feel like you've stepped into a sauna.

I was supposed to do a short, easy run yesterday, but Mr. Shrinking Knitter and I were out the door and on our way to town fairly early. The next couple Fridays are also not going to work out, but I don't mind doing a short run the day before the Sunday long run. And I also will – yes, I will! – do a weight-training session.

After which, it's all-football, all-the-time. Since I'm originally from Ohio, I root for the OSU Buckeyes. And since I've transplanted to West Virginia, and since Mr. Shrinking Knitter went to med school at WVU, I've adopted the Mountaineers, as well. They're ranked third in the country as the season begins, so our hopes are high.

We bought a new scale that calculates body fat yesterday. I'm appalled and dismayed to learn that mine is 40 percent, which is way more than obese. If that's not an incentive to lift more weights, I don't know what is. I'm going to try to check that figure only once a month.

I'd really thought that running 15-plus miles a week for almost a year would have resulted in a lower percentage. Seeing that number, after eating an average of 800 calories a day and running 19 miles and gaining two pounds was the dictionary definition of 'adding insult to injury.'

I guess I don't have a 25-pound stomach tumor after all. Heh.

Friday Quote Day

Disappointment to a noble soul
is what cold water means to burning metal;
it strengthens, tempers, intensifies,
but never destroys it.
~ Eliza Tabor

I was pretty wrecked yesterday, thinking about those two pounds gained after a good, solid week of consistent exercise and healthful eating. The average person would have lost something. I guess that means I'm above average, right? Heh.

My tempo run was supposed to have been a mile warm-up, four miles at an 11:24 pace and a mile cooldown. I couldn't get revved up and I couldn't run continuously after the first mile and three-quarters, so my pace was a dismal 13+. But I did it! It wasn't extraordinarily hot, but it was quite humid and as I've said previously, the damp, close air affects my stamina more than the temperature.

I did another load of laundry while I was running, dust-mopped the floors while that load was in the dryer and then folded and put everything away. After which, I took a nap, something I rarely do. I slept for about 45 minutes and woke up with this strange desire to clean the refrigerator. And not just a lick and a promise, either. This was a deep-cleaning session with much scrubbing and tossing. I almost don't want to fill it back up again.

But I will. Mr. Shrinking Knitter and I are doing a major shopping trip today and will spend the rest of the weekend watching college football. We started last night, but Saturday is the big day; we've looked forward to this since the end of the season.

Rah! Rah! Sis-boom-bah!

Do cheerleaders even say that any more? Heh.

It's official

Yes, I know it's not Friday, but I've been dutifully recording my calories in/calories out for seven days, so a weigh-in was required! Yesterday's net consumption was something ridiculous like 851. [I did 45 minutes of yoga, but did not do an additional strength-training session with dumbbells and barbells and benches, oh my!] As of this morning I really have gained two pounds.

Man, that's depressing to write.

I know that many of you out there are thinking I'm not eating enough. Thank you for your thoughts. I really do eat plenty. I don't know how I could possibly eat more. I eat reasonable amounts of healthy food for meals. If I'm hungry between meals I eat something else. The total number is certainly in the weight-loss range of 1200 to 1400 per day.

So I made an appointment to see the doctor in a couple weeks and will get some bloodwork done to check my thyroid again. I'm not hoping for thyroid problems, but I have many of the symptoms, and have had them off and on for years. [Those would include feeling cold, dry skin, low energy and low body temperature.] My thyroid numbers have always been low-normal. Maybe they've slipped into below-normal range as I've aged.

It's the only thing left in my arsenal, unless you have a better idea.

How can I claim to have low energy when I run 20 miles a week? That's all I do, essentially. Unless you count playing computer solitaire until my wrist goes numb. Or knitting! When I'm getting a lot of knitting done, which I have been lately, I'm not doing much of anything else.

My house is a disaster, I neglect my to-do list, I pull clean laundry from a basket instead of a dresser drawer. This is recent behavior.

I used to waltz around with the dustmop every day; now it's more like once a week. Which is waaaaaaay not enough when you live with two dogs. I never used to pile dirty dishes in the sink, but where are you going to put them when the dishwasher is full of clean dishes waiting to be put away? For three days.

Maybe I should get paper plates.

The yard needs mowed but I keep thinking maybe it'll rain, so I'm waiting for the sky to fall before I do it. Actually we've had so little rain the only thing that's growing are the weeds; the grass is still short and quite brown. But if I had the energy I would at least get the weedeater out for a trim around the edges.

So that's where I am this morning. Blue. Depressed. Not at ALL looking forward to a tempo run this morning.

Aren't you glad you stopped by?

Edited to add: I checked my e-mail after I hit the "publish" button and found a link to this article, courtesy of my wonderfully supportive daughter. Makes me want to go run. Faster. Heh. And then maybe I'll come home and fold the laundry.

Hi-yo, Silver! Away!

Here's the story Denise mentioned in yesterday's comments about what happens after The Biggest Loser winners go back to real life. It's both nice and sad to know that it's so hard to maintain a weight loss. Sad for obvious reasons. Nice to know I'm not the Lone Ranger.

I'm also not the Lone Ranger in having a difficult time losing weight. Do go congratulate M@rla, if you haven't already done so, for sticking with her month-long calorie restriction experiment which did result in a loss. Woo hoo!

I'm following her lead, and in the past six days have averaged eating about 800 calories per day, through a combination of careful eating and exercise. Official weigh-in is Friday, but y'all know I can't stay off the scale. I've gained two more pounds. Maybe it's payback for those two sugar-filled days I had before I started the food log.

One must have hope.

On a brighter note, my bone density and smashogram were both negative. I had to research how to read a bone density report. A T score of -1 is normal; below -2.5 indicates osteoporosis. My composite scores are -0.1 in the spine and -0.2 in the femoral neck bones.

I'd say I passed! It's not quite as exciting as that dramatic drop in cholesterol I experienced almost a year ago, but it's nice to know I probably won't break an ankle bone walking across the room. [My grandmother did that twice.]

It'd be mighty hard to run with a broken ankle.

I did four slow-and-easy miles yesterday morning; cross-training is on today's schedule. I'm going to see if I can do weight-training and yoga on the same day. I had every intention of doing yoga yesterday when I finished my run. Didn't happen; my mental attitude needs some adjusting. When I'm done running, I'm done!

I guess I'm done here for today, as well. I'm rambling; if you're still reading, thanks for sticking with me.

I do loooooove a good rest day!

Mondays are rest days in the new training schedule, and yesterday I really rested. Not rested as in "slept," but rested as in "sat on my ass and watched 'How Do I Look' and knitted all day and didn't break a sweat."

I probably shoulda/coulda done yoga or lifted weights, but I truly believe in a total rest-from-exercise day once a week.

I didn't used to. And maybe – just maybe – I need to go back to working out hard every single day in order to get where I want to go. But I'm not quite ready. Yet.

Now that I've written it down, I'll probably be ready next Monday. Heh. Hey! It could happen!

I also truly believe in following the training plan, unless it says "Easy Run. Two Miles." I can't seem to just run two miles any more; four is the minimum. If I'm going to change clothes and drive to a flat road and work up a sweat, I'm not going to do it for just two miles.

I can't seem to lose weight any more, either. Or still. Whatever. The latest issue of Health magazine showed up yesterday – I don't remember subscribing to it, but whoomp, there it was! – and in it is an article about how The Biggest Loser show contestants lose weight.

Among other things, they do 90 minutes of high-intensity exercise daily. I only do that on Sundays – the day of my long run. They are also active in a less intense way several hours the rest of the day. As opposed to sitting on their asses watching "How Do I Look." And knitting. And, of course, they strength-train three or four times a week.

I have a ways to go. In more ways than one.

Summer's winding down …

but you wouldn't be able to tell it from the still-lingering heat and humidity. I was reduced to a puddle of sweat yesterday when I finished running seven miles. I started too late, of course; it was nearly noon when I finished. The only parts of my shirt that weren't soaked through were the lower edges.

However, I've been noticing the falling leaves and changing colors. Our dogwoods have lots of red leaves on them now, and the distant mountains are gradually becoming more colorful.

I announced to Mr. Shrinking Knitter that I would never register for a fall race again. EVER! Training in late summer is brutal and hard and makes me feel like a failure nearly every time I go out. This is not at all how I felt preparing for my first half-marathon last spring.

For Lori, who asked about Roanoke NoSo, I've gone every year except two, I think. This is the 10th year it's been going on. I like this knitting get-together because it's small – attendance is limited to 100. In addition to donating an item for charity, attendees are encouraged [but not required] to donate leftover yarn for the inmates at Alderson to use for their charity knitting and crocheting. My car is always packed to the rooftop with bags and bags of otherwise unused stash, and the women at Alderson are so grateful!

They make and donate sweaters, hats, mittens and scarves to needy Appalachian school children, and blankets to nursing-home residents in the area. There are no funds for this project; they depend entirely on donations from the public, and the public has always come through with enough supplies to help about 60 children every Christmas. It's a win-win-win situation.

I started my charity donation last night and have made really good progress, especially considering it's an Aran design. I'd printed it out from this site ages ago, but have never made it. Worsted-weight yarn and size 8 needles mean fast knitting, whether it has lots of cables or not!

The site has tons o' free craft patterns and registration is free. If you're a member, the pattern I'm using is the Sweetheart Sweater Set in the Children's Clothing category.

The astute among you may have noticed a new link in the sidebar. I've started a food log blog – I thought it would drive readers away if I started adding my daily menu to this one. But if you're interested my calories in/calories out, click on the "my food log" link. And after you analyze the data, please tell me why I'm not losing any weight! Heh.

A quickie, mostly knitting

Once again I'm getting a late start on my day. Today is my long run – seven miles – and if I don't leave now it's going to be too hot, too humid and too uncomfortable to go.

I wanted to show off the baby sweater for my new granddaughter. I finished it yesterday. I don't say a knitted item is finished until the ends are woven in, the buttons are attached and it's been washed and blocked [if necessary]. So, finally, it is! I used Katia Mississippi 3 on size 2 and 4 needles.

And I also finished lengthening the sleeves on the sweater I gave my older granddaughter for Christmas last year. As she lives in a part of the country which is now experiencing tremendous heat and drought, I'm in no hurry to send it to her. She probably won't need it until February. By which time she will have outgrown it, no doubt.

That means there's nothing on my knitting needles right now. Nothing! I need to make a charity item for the Roanoke NoSo in September, and also need to make three Christmas stockings. Will have to order yarn for those, I think.

If you're racing today, I hope you did well! Also? It's so nice to know I'm not the only one who craves a DQ every once in a while.

If a tree falls on a power line, Part 2

Damn. You'd think the folks at Allegheny Power would spend a little time just cruising around in their big trucks looking for and cutting down threatening trees, wouldn't you? Especially since the last time this happened was just two months ago. [Disclaimer: I did not take the photo. But I could have!]

Mr. Shrinking Knitter and I ate dinner a little earlier than usual yesterday. By 6 p.m. I was working playing Solitaire on the computer and he was reading while we waited for the evening news to begin. Suddenly … no power.

You know what's worse than 100 degrees and no rain? That would be 90 degrees, a thunderstorm and no power. It only took about 10 minutes for the heat and humidity to become cloying enough that we decided we needed to get in the car – excuse me, the air-conditioned car – and head out for dessert.

We went north to the nearest town with a Dairy Queen®, about 12 miles from us. That's right, Dairy Queen®. Because nothing fixes downed power line anxiety like an ice cream cone dipped in chocolate. About two miles from our destination the road was blocked and an unseemingly cheerful old fellow was informing travelers that it would take at least an hour to get past the tree and power line which were blocking the road.

So. There's a little mom-and-pop pseudo Dairy Queen® about seven miles south of our house. We headed there. I didn't think they had dipped cones, though, which was the comfort food I was needing.

I was right, but not only did they not offer chocolate-dipped ice cream, they asked us to wait a few minutes while they made more soft-serve. They didn't even have non-dipped ice cream!

Seven miles further was another Dairy Queen®; in mere minutes we were there. Mr. Shrinking Knitter was jonesing for a milkshake and I got my treat, but only after checking the poster listing the nutritional value of DQ® menu items. A small chocolate-dipped cone was 340 calories. I'd eaten about 1000 calories yesterday and did half an hour of free-weight training, good for a couple hundred at least. So even though I fell off the sugar wagon yet again, I still came in under the wire calorie-wise.

All in all, we figure we drove about 50 miles for an ice cream cone. But we were cool! And comfortable!

We were on the very southern edge of the storm. Less than a mile south of our house the roads were dry; it hadn't rained at all. It only rained at our place for half an hour, and it didn't even soak into the ground – no lightning, no hail, no wind and only distant thunder. But falling trees don't care about details like that.

The original restoration estimate was 10 p.m.; we were jolted awake with lights! air conditioning! refrigerator hum! at 1 a.m. Since the second estimate they gave us was 8 a.m., we were pleasantly surprised to be awakened in the middle of the night. I'd had visions of discarding the contents of my refrigerator this morning, but the only thing I'm going to toss is a nearly empty carton of milk.

Most of the time, living in the Middle of Nowhere is lovely, peaceful and pleasant. But sometimes? It sucks.