Strong

This morning I ran my first 5k {3.1 miles} race in almost two years.

And I seriously rocked it.

Most of the exercise I have been doing in the midst of this lifestyle change has been power walking. But sometime in the last few weeks my body has nudged me towards running. Even though I was managing a rather brisk 12:40 minute mile, my legs wanted something faster. So I would run and it felt good. It felt easy. It felt familiar.

You see, I used to be a runner. I begrudgingly ran cross-country in high school but it wasn’t because I enjoyed it or was any good at it. My only thoughts were of college applications and what would look good on a transcript. So I suffered through a few seasons, enjoying the camaraderie of the team but not the fact that I was always one of the last runners to finish a meet.

It wasn’t until the summer before my senior year of college that I began to run just for me. Not for the hopeful approval or connection with my father, not for a felt cloth letter to go on a letterman’s jacket, not for an additional activity to add to my personal resume. I ran just for me and for the strength and confidence it gave me. I grew to love running that summer- the speed, the feeling of pushing my body past what my brain said it was capable of, the amazing accomplishment of miles behind me. I can vividly recall the 5k race I ran at the end of that summer, my first since high school, the Brenner Children's Hospital 5k in Winston-Salem, NC. It ended on a hill and my sister {a gifted and talented runner, a natural} had already finished the race but came back to run with me to the end.

She ran beside me and cheered me on, telling me, “Ok, Lu, you attack this hill like something you hate. What do you hate?”

“Giant spiders,” I gasped.

“Ok, then,” she replied, “You stomp this hill, you squash it like a giant hairy spider.”

And I did.

That wasn’t the last time she talked me through the end of a race. In 2007, as a 30th birthday gift to me, Allie trained me and gifted me with the opportunity to run in the Nike Women’s Marathon in San Francisco, CA. But you can read all about that on my other blog.

I hadn’t really run since completing the marathon. Burned out, weighed down with more trials and transitions than I could count, caught up in self-pity and struggling just to make it emotionally day to day, I lost sight of one of the main things that brings me joy and strength. I let running fall by the wayside and the results have been disappointing on so many levels.

But not anymore.

This morning, I set out to run my first 5k race in two years and to simply finish. The course was deliciously flat and I deliberately paced myself to run ten minute miles, not really knowing what my body was going to be capable of. I had no ambitions to pass folks, to achieve a certain time, to win any sort of prize.

Until I started running. And it felt good and I felt strong and before I knew it, even with my ten minute mile pace, I was steadily passing folks who had sprinted out in front of me at the start of the race. My body was tall and sure, my stride comfortable and the tunes on my iPod were seriously kickin’. Before I knew it, I found myself wanting to pass people. I set my sights on a few runners ahead of me and I picked them off one by one.

{I’m going to take a vanity moment here and tell you that I took great delight in picking off chicks younger and skinnier than me, a high school boy who had boasted at the start and some older gentleman who seriously need to reconsider wearing so much aftershave to a race.}

I hit the last four tenths of a mile and it was like I couldn’t stop my legs. They pushed out in front of me, an automatic response to the strength in me that I wasn’t fully aware was even there. Those last tenths of a mile, my body was on automatic and I don’t know when I have been so keenly aware and in awe of what my muscles were doing. In those moments, I experienced running in an intensely spiritual way that I never have before.

And I think it has changed me.

I stuck around after the race, wanting to hear the results and my official time but not really planning or expecting to have any part in the awards ceremony. But when the overall winning female’s time was seven or eight minutes ahead of mine, I wondered if I might actually place in my age group.

“And in the thirty to thirty-four age group for the females, second place goes to Leslie Petree from Signal Mountain.”

So what I’ve learned is that being over thirty has finally paid off. Not just with a red baseball cap with a race logo embroidered on it {which has to be the most random race award I’ve ever seen}, but with a newfound knowledge and awareness about myself that I couldn’t find in my twenties.

I am strong.

I can do hard things.

I will be kind to myself.

Bits & Pieces

My morning commute takes me down off the mountain {only one lane when you’re heading down} and around the perimeter of downtown Chattanooga. The route takes me right past a few of the most crowded exits due to downtown commuters and therefore the average speed around there is no more than 45 mph.

Trust me, you needed that background info.

So this morning, I’m sitting in bumper to bumper traffic in which I can go no faster than 10 mph. I glance in my rearview mirror as traffic starts to pick up and notice a pickup truck sitting on my tail. Now I’m all about a well timed bumper ride, particularly when someone is sitting in the left lane while everyone passes them on the right {Hello, South Carolina! I’m talking to you!}. But when I am traveling with the flow of morning traffic and smoothly passing everyone in the right lane, there is no need to sit on my tail.

I tapped my brakes. No good, he was still there. He pulls out into the right lane in an attempt to pass me {and I swear I did not speed up to block him} but is unable to because did I mention the slow moving traffic on the right? So, back on my bumper he goes. At this point, I more than tap my brakes, look in my rearview and annunciate as clearly as I can, “Back! Off!”

He does.

For about a minute.

And back on my bumper we go. He tries one more time to pass me on the right, again, to no avail. The traffic clears up, another lane is added and I watch as he veers all the way to the right. All of a sudden I hear him honking his horn and I look back, thinking the idiot might be honking at me.

No, it appears that he veered off to the right trying to cut off another pickup truck in order to get to an exit. That truck would not let my bumper lovin’ friend in {rightfully so} and he was pissed. I watched as he pulled beside the innocent, safely driving truck and began honking his horn, shaking his fist and yelling indecipherable things {of which I’m sure there were more than a few colorful words}. My jaw was on the floor as he did this for half a mile.

Clearly, someone did not have their morning coffee.

Also, wouldn’t a simple bird have sufficed?

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There is a darling little four year old girl in our neighborhood who takes a daily afternoon walk with her dad. Apparently she is very threatening because my empty headed dog barks furiously at them every time they pass our house. About a week ago I was walking Knox and passed them on their walk. I introduced her to Knox and let her pet him. She looooooved him.

Today, they were passing our house when Knox and I were headed out for a walk. She made a beeline for her new friend crying out, “Ohhhh, such a cute puppy dog!” {Lick, lick, lick on her hand} “Ohhh, he loves me! Such a cute puppy. I love you too puppy!” {She puts her hand out for Knox to lick it again} “He’s giving me kisses! Daddy, he loves me! I love him.”

This repeated at least three more times before her dad was able to pry her away. I don’t think a more delightful four year old girl has ever existed.

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Amy Beth and I went to see “Julie and Julia” on Saturday night.

If Meryl Streep is not nominated for an Oscar, I will be seriously disappointed. Perfection.

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The Lifestyle Change is continuing in good form {if you’re just tuning in, you can read about the initial change here and the first update here}. Two and half months later, I’m down twenty pounds. I’m sleeping soundly, exercising at least four times a week {I ran my first 5k distance in over a year this week!} and feeling stronger than I have in a long time. I haven’t starved myself, I’ve eaten pasta in moderation and I am now eating fruit as a dessert.

Y’all, that last one? Nothing short of a miracle.

Is there such a thing as The Seven Week Itch?

I hope not because as of today I am at week seven of my self-proclaimed lifestyle change {if you’re just joining me, take a moment and read this to get caught up.} Seven weeks in, I think it’s safe to say that the lifestyle change is sticking. And I’m not going to lie, it’s actually been fairly painless.

I mean, once I got past the incessant craving for generic boxes of macaroni & cheese.

My day to day routine has consisted of lots of water {take your body weight, cut in half and that’s about how many ounces you need each day}, mostly fresh foods, good proteins, whole grain carbs and exercise four times a week. The results? Thirteen pounds lost and some delightfully loose clothing.

Honestly, as fun as it is to see the weight I’ve lost, what’s even better about all this is how much better I feel.  It’s been fascinating to watch how my body and mind together have responded to this change. I feel good.

While we were at the beach with Jason’s family I did my best to stick to the plan. It was helpful to have a full kitchen where I could make my fresh and healthy breakfast & lunch, as well as rooming with my brother and sister-in-law who eat mostly organic themselves. It made indulging in the communal dinners less guilt-laden. One afternoon late in the week we had lunch at one of those infamous 140 item seafood buffet places. Y’all, I went to town. Lifestyle change abandoned for the afternoon and fried foods galore.

I don’t know that my tummy has ever been more mad at me. Things were not right in that area until a good day and a half later.

I’m amazed at how sensitive my palate and stomach have become. Sweet tea is over the top now and so I drink half sweet & half unsweet. If I eat stuff that’s too fatty or preservative laden, I feel like crap for the next day or so. As of right now, I’m also not as preoccupied with food as I used to be. Food is food, nothing more. We’ve had a couple of really stressful weeks here at the Petree house and for the first time in I don’t know how long, I’m not using food to comfort me or numb out. Instead I head out the door to workout.

I know. It freaks me out too.

I’ve stuck mostly with power walking this time around. I’ve dabbled in a run here and there but the power walking seems to be something that my body is really responding to. I’ve found myself getting antsy if I haven’t gotten out and done three miles or so.

I know. It freaks me out too.

So there you have it. Pretty basic but apparently very effective. Who knew?

Because, clearly, diets from Us Magazine are always scientific

Wow, clearly, the dieting/lifestyle change strikes a core in a lot of you women out there! And with bathing suit season upon us {pardon me while I change into my muumuu}, why wouldn’t it? I myself will be sporting a darling little one piece that I’m choosing to think of as retro rather than “Oh dear lord, why didn’t I start the lifestyle change two months ago?!”

That line of thought helps me feel sassy and it gives me the perfect excuse to wear my deliciously broadrimmed hat.

Anyhow, my dear cousin and friend, Sarah Jo, mentioned something in her comment that I thought was worthy of further explanation.

“And then I think of that orange juice diet I witnessed you do a few summers ago... :)”

Now this wasn’t simply a diet where I was only allowed to drink orange juice. Oh, no. That would have been lovely compared to what I actually consumed. In the spring of 2005, I was reading an issue of Us Magazine when I came across a detox diet that some nutritionist had used with celebrities like Britney Spears and Pink. The article laid out exactly what you were supposed to do for ten days and it was “guaranteed” to help me lose weight quickly while supposedly giving me more energy.

I think we all see where this is going. It was the words “Us Magazine” that tipped you off, correct?

The main component of this detox was the drink that had to be consumed first thing each morning. It consisted of:

• two oranges
• one lemon
• a small bunch of fresh parsley
• olive oil
• pepper
• ground clove

I blended all this together to make what was perhaps the foulest concoction to ever go in a cup. I literally had to plug my nose in order to get that stuff down and, I’m not going to lie, there was sometimes gagging involved. Poor Sarah Jo, as if the whining of the blender in the morning wasn’t enough.

In addition to The Morning Drink O’ Foulness, I was to consume several ounces of lemon water sprinkled with ground clove throughout the day. My blind devotion to the detox plan even found me willingly consuming V8 three times a day. Yes, I coulda had a V8 but trust me, what I really wanted in those moments was a mint Oreo milkshake from Cook Out.

I refused cupcakes in the teacher’s workroom and ate my allotment of fifteen raw almonds instead. I turned down the absent student’s Chick-fil-A sandwich and ate my measly salad with olive oil dressing.

It was miserable and not even worth the trouble, as it turns out. Sure, I think I lost a few pounds but that quickly came back when I abandoned the detox plan and had the chicken finger platter from Cook Out for three dinners in a row {I know, when I get going on my “I don’t give a crap what I eat” run, I tend to stick to the same carb/fat loaded meal}. I didn’t end up with Britney or Pink’s abs but I guess the detox must have worked on some level because I did feel a little better, a little more clean {or cleaned out, ahem}.

The kicker was a week after I quit, I looked up this nutritionist’s book at Barnes & Noble. Turns out you’re only supposed to follow the detox plan for three days, eat normally for three, and then back on the plan for three days. And you’re only supposed to do that once a month.

My blind trust in Us Magazine has never been the same since.

I’m sure my future self will thank me one day

{Sorry to be gone so long but I’ve been working on some technical issues with the ol’ blog. All is well now! However, I do want to make you aware of one teensy change. I have turned on comment moderating, so please don’t be alarmed if your comment doesn’t appear after you hit “Publish Your Comment”. It will shortly. Ok, moving on…}

Perhaps you recall that a while back I spoke of a dream, a goal, really. And perhaps you’ve noticed a couple of new images over in my sidebar. {No, really, go look. I’ll wait…All caught up? Ok, good.} You might have even noticed a while back when the image in my sidebar under the topic “What I Am Pursuing” was a picture of that she-devil, Jillian, and her latest phenomenon known as The Thirty Day Shred.

Around my house it is now known as The I Tried It For Two Days & My Body Staged A Mutiny.

Nope, it’s just been too long since the old girl was truly active. My muscles were screaming things at me like, “No, really, we’d like to help you sit down and travel down steps in the next two days! For the love of all that is holy and good in this world, please stop!” So I did. Mind you, I did some power walking in the days that followed but no consistent exercise has been seen in these parts since then.

What followed my flailing leap off of The Shred bandwagon were several weeks of preservative filled crap, general slothfulness and an overwhelming sense of lethargy. Something needed to change but I wasn’t sure what.

Oh, who am I kidding?! I knew exactly what needed to change, I was just too busy seeing how many consecutive meals could consist of generic boxes of Mac & Cheese.

The thing is I’m actually surrounded by people who eat healthy/organic/vegetarian. My sister, two of my cousins, several in-laws and my mom. What really got me thinking was a conversation I had with Mom two weeks ago. She has had chronic foot problems for almost two years now and has had two surgeries in an attempt to get things working again with not much progress. In January she made a commitment to eat better, specifically to eat more fruits and vegetables and less foods that consisted of mostly preservatives. In our conversation I noted that I hadn’t heard her complaining about her foot lately and asked how it was doing. She responded, “Well, you haven’t heard me say anything because since January the pain has gone from a 10 to a 2. I think between eating more cleanly and losing some weight, it’s really helped.”

I looked at the boxes of Mac & Cheese and yet another package of Nestle Tollhouse Ultimates -Chocolate Chip Lovers Cookie Dough lying on the checkout belt at Walmart, heaved a sigh and a switch flipped in my brain.

It can’t be a diet, it’s got to be a lifestyle.

First, I made a trip to Greenlife Grocery {a local natural food store, it’s awesome!} and scouted out an herbal cleanse. I wasn’t going to go too crazy with some sort of massive colon flush-out thing, but I knew from talking to some folks that a general cleanse could be beneficial to get rid of some toxins and such. I found one created by Renew Life called “First Cleanse”. Perfect.

Knowing that the cleanse was going to be ridding my body of junk built up from all the preservative laden food, I have actually been more motivated than usual to eat fresh foods and lots of protein. I loaded the fridge & freezer with all manner of veggies, fruits, fish, chicken and low-fat dairy. I also purchased a package or four of Crystal Light, some yummy teas and vowed to drink more water. The other ingredient to this life change is Benefiber.

I know, it put me dangerously close to the Metamucil. I had visions of me prematurely being eighty-something and wondered if I should go back to the front of Walmart and grab one of those electric carts.

But seriously, when you do a cleanse, they recommend that you up your fiber intake because the fiber acts to trap the toxins and then helps as they are…um….naturally eliminated from your body. Bonus: fiber makes you feel fuller longer. I mix it in my hot tea, Crystal Light and even milk. I’ve definitely noticed that my in-between meal cravings are significantly less and I think that’s due to the added fiber I’m getting through the Benefiber powder.

I’m only through the first week, but I feel different. More alert, sleeping better, less lethargy. In short, I no longer feel like a giant slob. My taste buds are slowly waking up and I’m realizing just how good fresh food is without loads of butter or salt. Or powdered orange cheese. I’ve lost 3 1/2 pounds which is a pretty normal amount for when I first start watching what I eat. It’s unlikely that I’ll lose that amount each week from here on out, but I’ll take it.

Lest I mislead you, let it be known that I did make my first pound cake this past week and served it up with some strawberries and fresh whipped cream.

And I drank some seriously sweet tea. I’ve done some freaky diets in my past and I’m bound and determined that this lifestyle change isn’t going to leave me deprived.

After all, what’s a Southern Drama Queen without her sweet tea?

Is it irony like Alanis sang about or the real thing?

This is what I’m wondering. Because here is what happens every Tuesday night when I sit down to watch “The Biggest Loser”:

I promptly put something sweet, salty, sugary or otherwise fattening in my mouth.

For pretty much the entire duration of that night’s episode.

Irony or hypocrisy? I’m tempted to call it sabotage but it’s clearly not getting me any closer to where I would like to be this summer. I don’t have any drastic weight goals. It’s not like I’d like to be Nicole Richie. But looking something like Sara Evans wouldn’t hurt.

I like Sara. She’s managed to stay gorgeous, curvy and healthy all while dealing with an ample bosom. We’ll just call that my own unique role model.

Also, she has clearly invested in a good bra. Let’s not underestimate the importance of a good undergarment.

But I digress. Really I’d like nothing more than to get back to what I weighed on my wedding day. It was a good number, a reasonable number. More than the number itself (and perhaps even better) I felt healthy and strong. My word, it would be nice to feel that way again.

I’d like to start running again. To feel the strength that it offers me, to set and accomplish a running goal, to have something about which I can write on that other blog of mine.

And best of all, I want to reclaim my honeymoon trousseau.

I think this is the biggest goal of all- to wear all the cute summery clothes that I picked so carefully and excitedly three years ago instead of buying a whole new summer wardrobe for this year. I’m pretty sure this will please my sweet love’s eyes as well as his fiscally responsible heart.

I’ll keep you posted. Anyone want to come restock my pantry with things that won’t tempt me?