C25K -The Mom's Perspective: Week 3

Week 3 of my Couch to 5K Running Program started about 2 and a half weeks ago.  Sadly, I have yet to move on to Week 4.  I can explain...

Week 3, Day 1:

Oh My God, this was hard.  As I said last week, going from running for 90 second stints to 3 minutes feels like mission impossible.  And it kinda was.  I'm not gonna lie, I had to walk the last minute when I was supposed to be running.  My friend Kelly said to run until I feel like I'm going to fall down, then I can walk.  And I did exactly that.  I felt guilty as hell about it though, and vowed to do the workout in its entirety again the next day.  Until...

WHAM-O!  I got hit with a terrible cold, and had company arriving for the weekend.  Running was not an option.  Between my hacking, nose-blowing, and alternating doses of DayQuil, Tylenol Cold, and NyQuil, it just was not possible.  I was run down and tired from being sick, and I knew I had to give it a break until I was better.

Feeling better this week, I finally got to the gym on Wednesday. (8 days later than my last run!)  I re-did my Day 1 workout.  Without cheating.  I think I coughed up a lung though, and had a terrible night's sleep because I could not. stop. coughing.  Also, I'm more than certain that the people on the treadmills to my left and right did not appreciate the fat girl's huffing, puffing, and now hacking in way too close proximity.  Oh well.  That's what showers and hand-sanitizer dispensers are for, right?

Feeling empowered because I did what I set out to do, despite not feeling 100%, I often remind myself of this pin from Pinterest:

 

Or this one:



Week 3, Day 2:

Today I returned to the gym to run again.  Unfortunately, my cough is worse, not better, and the lack of Oxygen was just more than I could deal with.  I found myself struggling to catch my breath as I ran, and in an effort to not pass out, I decided to just walk it out.  So I walked during 2 and a half minutes that I should have been running.  I still managed to go 2.15 miles, but I was disappointed.  My lungs were just not happy.  (Doc appt. is set for Monday, I swear!)  So I'll re-do this day too.  Or maybe I won't.  I'm back to thinking that running is a stupid idea anyway.

To be continued...

Sibling Love?

If you've had the privilege of spending time with my family you'd notice within just a few minutes that 2 out of 3 of my children do not get along very well.  This is not a new phenomenon.  Not a stage that they will eventually grow out of. (although I pray that they will)  Put frankly, for one reason or another, Joey and Katelyn just don't like each other.

Sad?  Right.  Yea, it's a real downer.  I've tried countless ways to figure out why my oldest and youngest don't show the love for each other like they do towards Olivia.  They both really love Olivia.  I guess the main reason I can come up with is that they are more similar in personality.  Joey and Katelyn seem to take after me in the personality department.  Strong willed, opinionated, inquisitive, strong willed, stubborn, strong willed... yea, that about sums it up.  Olivia is more subdued like my husband.  She of course has her own opinion about things, and can throw a tantrum over a pack of gummies with the best of them, but she is definitely more compliant and accepting than the other two. 

Joey and Katelyn battle over just about anything.  Toys, shoes, (yes, Joey will wear her most favorite sparkle shoes around the house just to piss her off), what to watch on TV, who goes first, last, etc.  It's pretty endless.  And beyond frustrating as a mom who just wants peace in the house.  Sometimes they do it deliberately.  For example, Joey will purposefully act like Katelyn mispronounced something even though she didn't.  Katelyn will yell about it.  Joey will insist that she said it wrong.  Katelyn will yell some more.  Joey will yell back.  And eventually one of them will either throw something or smack the other one unless I break it up by using my scary mom voice telling them to CUT THE CRAP!

I noticed something the other day while I dropped Joey off at school.  These two, who act like they can't stand each other 90 percent of the time always say goodbye to each other.  He even turns after getting out of the car to say goodbye to Katelyn with a wave and a smile.  Maybe it's because they are so glad to have 7 hours away from each other.  But I'd rather think that its because deep down they actually do love each other.  So I'm going to go with that.  They totally do, right?

Couch 2 5K... The Mom's Perspective

Well it's no secret that I'd like to lose some weight.  I've struggled with it for some time now, and am finding it harder than EVER now to drop a few pounds.  Weight Watchers worked for me 6 times before in the past, and it sort of worked for a while for me earlier this year, but I got impatient and quit.  Also, we really had to cut back spending when Ron unexpectedly needed a new car, and $45 for WW was just no longer in the budget.  Which is why I haven't gone back.

You see, I can't even blame my fatness on "baby weight."  I was actually at my thinnest adult weight 3 weeks after the girls were born, (nursing twins was the Best Diet Ever!) and I desperately want to lose the 30 pounds I've gained since then.

So, if I want desperately to lose weight, why is it so freakin' hard?  When you want something badly enough, shouldn't it just happen?  I really don't get where the disconnect is here, and it makes me want to really do some investigation as to why I can't stay motivated to lose some freakin' weight.  And I'm pretty sure I'm not the only woman out there feeling this way.  In fact, I know I'm not.  You're with me, aren't you??? 

Well, drastic times call for drastic measures, so I even went as far as to try the crash diet of Cabbage Soup.  In case you missed it, you can read about it here, here, or here.  My 7-day diet lasted 3 days.  I lost about 6 pounds in 3 days, but gained 10 back faster than you can say "Dairy Queen."  No joke, it was like I blinked, and WHAM, 10 pounds... back on the old keister.  The 6 that I lost by starving myself, and 4 extra for being an idiot.

Well, we all know how to lose weight... eat less, exercise more.  Easy enough, right?  I wish.  But I'm determined to find something that will work.  This may or may not be it, but you're about to find me blogging about my newest exercise regime.  It's something I said I would NEVER do.  Never, ever, ever, did I think I'd do this.  It is so far out of my comfort zone, I can't even tell you.  But maybe that's just what I need.  Maybe I need to do something I've never done before, and never thought I could.  Sounds plausible, right?  I may do it once, maybe for a week, I may do it for the rest of my life.  But I'm doing it.  I'm running.  There.  I said it.  I was super reluctant to put this online -so don't judge me and keep your mouth shut about it if I quit, k?  In fact, as I type, I'm not so sure I can actually click on the publish button... Regardless, I've downloaded the C25K running program, and I'm running.  And here's how it went my very first time:

Week 1, Day 1:

As I completed the first 60-second running segment I seriously contemplated going home.  I'm not even kidding.  It was awful, and I could feel my body protesting this decision with every single painful step.  But I didn't turn around.  I kept going.  I wanted to smash the iPod into the pavement every time I heard the little "ding-a-ling" that signaled another 60-second running stint.  And I'll admit that I ended a few of those running segments a few seconds early because I just couldn't do it.  It hurt so bad.  Everywhere.  Immediately.

Oh, and then there is the whole embarrassment factor.  Me running is just not a pretty sight.  I've got big tits and a big ass, and everything bounces. And not in a "wow, that's sexy" kind of way.  My first time out of the gate, I went right around 7:00pm, when it was still light outside.  I had to run in front of some of my friends' houses praying that they weren't looking out the window or walking outside.  I even ran past some people that I knew who were taking their baby out for an evening stroll.  I just shook my head and gave them the "I'm about to die doing this" look when they tried to chat to me.  My heart stopped with every car that drove by thinking that it might be some cruel teenagers throwing tomatoes at the fat lady jiggling running down the street.  At that thought, I made a mental note to go running after dark until I get more comfortable with this.  Then I remembered that I had already told myself about 5 minutes into this endeavor that this was the stupidest idea I've had yet, and I was never going to go running again.  I was not cut out for this.

Then, suddenly, I was looping aroud the neighborhood back to my house.  I glanced at the iPod and realized that I was 2/3 of the way through the 30-minute workout.  With that, I realized I could do it.  I was doing it.  So the last couple of running segments were actually my easiest ones because I was on my way home, not on my way away from home.

Upon walking in the front door, I just about collapsed to the floor.  "You should stretch," said my husband, The Athlete.  I didn't stretch.  I couldn't stretch.  I could barely move.  I poured myself a huge glass of ice water and sat outside on the patio with the fan on high trying to cool off.  Luckily, Fall has arrived in North Carolina so the outdoor temperature is finally lower than the indoor temperature these days!  It took me a good 20 minutes to feel like a human being again, and I did have a happy euphoric feeling that I actually did it.  Once.  I ran one time.  And after that night, I never planned to do it again...

Walmart After Dark

What is it about Walmart?  I mean, we've all seen the "People of Walmart" email forwards.  In fact, they've actually made a website and a YouTube video (both of which are absolutely freaking hilarious) to poke fun at all the crazy sh*t that goes on in Walmarts around the country.

Tonight I had to go out to do my obligatory weekly shopping for things like milk, juice, mini-bagels, and lunchables.  45 minutes and 103 dollars later I was leaving the place shaking my head at all of the questionable situations I had just come across.  In 45 minutes!

The funny part is that less than 2 short years ago I worked at Walmart, and the funny stuff I saw didn't annoy me nearly as much as when I'm there as a customer.  Maybe it's because I was getting paid pennies to be there?  I don't know.  Alas, my employment at the *Rollback* capital of the world only lasted for 8 long months.  And I didn't mind it all that much, mostly because every once in a while I got to post stuff like this to my Facebook page:

But as a customer, I can't stand being in there after hours.  Sadly, the only time I get to go to Walmart (alone) is the time that I hate it the most; After Dark.  Something happens to that place when the sun goes down.  The crazies come out of the woodwork to aimlessly roam the aisle and pretend that they don't hear me saying, "excuse me," 47 times, let their babies walk through the place with no pants on, and take it upon themselves to sample the food, (and I'm not talking about the nice elderly man who gives out samples from his little cart on Saturdays... I'm talking about people who just open up any old thing on the shelves and try it out.)  Those were the highlights of my trip tonight. 

Oh, and no trip to Walmart would be complete without a picture so I'll leave you with this:

 

In case you can't make it my crappy night time phone picture, that's a rolled up dirty diaper in the parking space next to my car.  Nice, huh?  Really?  Cause finding a trash can would have been too inconvenient.

Oh, and seriously, if you haven't watched that YouTube video yet, and you have about 6 minutes to waste, you really should take a peek.  It's stupidly funny.  And you can't help but laugh.  At least I can't.

Do You Pull Up?

Joey has been fully daytime potty trained for quite some time now.  He still pees like a race horse at night, and is most often wet when he waked up from his nap.  So for the past year he has been wearing a diaper to bed.  Recently we've made the switch from diapers to Pull Ups for him.  I don't know why, honestly.  He never minded wearing a diaper for his naps and bedtime, but I had some coupons for Pull Ups that were expiring, so I figured maybe it would motivate him to be 1. more independent in "pulling it up himself," or 2. try to stay dry during his sleeping times. 

Well, I'm here to announce that we have negatives on both accounts.  Joey can not will not pull up his Pull Up.  Not even close, actually.  He wiggles and waggles and runs away from me, he cries that he can't do it himself, and tells me that mommy NEEEEEEEEEDS to do it.  Even if I help him step into it he can't pull the darn thing over his little tush.  And the one time he tried to, he ended up ripping up the side which irritated me because we wasted a perfectly good pee-collecting device.  So this whole pull up thing has left me wondering... what is the point?  They can't won't pull them up themselves, they are just as padded as a diaper, they hold a whole lot of the yellow stuff, never making the kid realize that he's got to go, so why bother?  Price per Pull Up is significantly more than the price per diaper, and if they don't help you in any way, why are we wasting our money?  Must be the super cool Cars, Toy Story 3, and other character designs. 

These things should be called, "A Glorified Overpriced Diaper that Mommy Must Still Put On You."  Because my kid is certainly not interested in pulling up his own Pull Up, and I honestly don't think he cares much about the cool characters on them.  Back to generic-brand diapers for this boy.  Good thing he still wears the same size as his sister, so I don't even have to make a special trip to the store!

It's a Good Thing We're Moving...

because I got into a verbal altercation with one of the neighbors today.  One that I've never seen or met before.  And Joey was calling him "not nice" as I went back in the house.  Here is how it all went down:

I was super tired this afternoon after getting home from the gym.  All I wanted was for the kids to go to sleep so I could take a nap.  My nap was cut short when Joey came in my room and proceeded to wake me up.  Still tired, now grumpy, I dragged myself out of bed and poured myself a large glass of Diet Coke, wishing I could inject the caffeine directly into my blood stream instead.  I then leashed up the dogs (I'm watching Daisy's BFF, Ginger), and took Joey outside with me to let them do their duty.

As I stood on our front step right outside the door watching the dogs carefully select the perfect place to pee a large dog came charging at us from the other side of the parking lot.  Joey got nervous as all 3 dogs began obnoxiously barking at each other, and I stood frozen hoping this would not result in a scary dog fight or bite.  Meanwhile, as this dog came running at us it's owner stood watching from his stoop outside his apartment across the way.  He did not call for it, did not chase it down, and did not put a leash on it.  He stood watching, completely unconcerned about the fact that his dog was about to eat my dogs, followed by my child, and then me.

When the idiot neighbor finally did walk up as I was collecting my dogs and child to go hide inside, he muttered a meaningless, "sorry 'bout that."  I didn't even warrant that with a response, just hussled Joey, Daisy, and Ginger inside and waited for him to collect his big, scary dog and leave.  But he didn't. 

We have this large grassy area outside our apartment where all of the neighbors bring their dogs to crap.  I watched out the window as the guy stood on one side of it watching as his dog dropped a deuce right outside my door.  Then the guy said something to the dog, and began walking across the street back to his apartment.  WHAT?!?!  You are not only going to allow your dog to scare the bejesus out of me, my dogs, and my kid, but you also leave it's poop for some unsuspecting shoe to step in?  Oh no you don't, buddy.  Not on my watch.

When the dog was a safe distance away, I walked back outside.  The guy was still standing on his stoop waiting for his dog to join him.  The dog was still wandering on my side of the parking lot, further away from both me and it's owner.  Eventually the dog headed home to the guy, and just before he turned to walk back to his apartment I called out to him, "Oh, and don't worry about the dog poop.  Just leave it there.  That's awesome."  I knew he heard me but didn't bother to acknowledge me, instead he gave his dog 4-5 hard whacks and pushed it inside.  OH MY GOD.  This guy is unbelievable.  I couldn't help myself.  I knew I shouldn't have said anything, but I just couldn't hold my tongue. (big surprise there...)  "Oh, good.  Beat the dog up.  Because it's HER fault.  Maybe you should look into using a F***ing leash!"  Yes.  I dropped the F-bomb.  To a stranger.  In front of my kid.  (Mom of the year, right here...)  I was just so infuriated that this guy was being such a jerk and irresponsible dog owner.  And seeing him beating the dog was the last straw for me.  Because seriously, none of this was the dog's fault.  Not my finest moment, but I got my point across and that is always important to me.  And not to give him any credit, but he did put the dog inside, walk over to the doggie doo-doo station, get a green bag, and search the big grassy area for his dog's crap.  (I watched from inside with the door locked.)  I seriously doubt he did that to appease me, but probably more because we all got notes in our mailboxes last week about proper doggie poop etiquette from the management and I'm sure this guy figured I was crazy enough to report him.

So I've learned a couple of things from this situation:

1. Some people just should not own pets.
2. Joey knows when not to repeat the F-word. (after my last comment, he said to me, "that guy needs a leash mom?)  -he totally left out the f-word part.  He's so smart!
3. I should have waited until the caffeine reached my blood stream before interacting with anyone.
4. It's a really good thing we are moving soon before I piss off any more of the neighbors.

Grown Men Should Not Play Recreational Sports

The above statement is something that I think to myself every time my husband enrolls himself in some kind of  "rec." sport.  I stand by this statement because I know at some point during the "season" my husband will be injured.  This injury will affect our daily routine immensely but will not, however, stop him from continuing to play said sport.  The injury will worsen, his groaning will intensify, and my patience will wear thinner than ever.

So it is no surprise that my last words to my husband as he exited the apartment on the way to his game last night were not "good luck," or even "I love you."  With every game or practice, the final words I called out to him on his way out the door are always, "don't get hurt."  If only he'd listened last night, he wouldn't look like this tonight:

The problem is not the sport itself.  It isn't the individual men either.  It's the mis-firing of electrical current that occurs in a man's brain when he is surrounded by other guys and his wife is not around.  For some reason when you get a group of men together to play a sport that they think they are good at, they think it's important to show off.  In other words, my husband thinks it is necessary to physically push the limitations of his rapidly aging body to impress the other men on the team.  Some call this an Ego.  I call it Stupid.

Too harsh?  Maybe.  Don't get me wrong.  I found this softball team for my husband to join.  I picked out his new glove and cleats.  I understand and completely support my husband's need for male companionship.  Just as he understands and completely supports my need to drink wine every day.  But I am frustrated by the fact that he couldn't follow one simple direction: don't get hurt.  So tonight as I bring my husband more Ibuprofen and a heating pad, I can't help but think to myself that grown men should not play recreational sports.  At least not without the supervision and guidance of their wives.

Water in the Wall

Apartment living has its ups and downs just as any other situation in life.  I especially like that there is no maitenence involved.  Something breaks? We make a phone call.  Not 42 trips to Home Depot.  However, I still haven't quite gotten used to having people live above me.  I've never actually met my upstairs neighbors.  I do know that they have lots of obnoxious energetic children, and are awake at all hours of the night.  They are quite heavy footed, and one of their children enjoys running from one end of the apartment to the other around 3:30pm every afternoon. 

I've also learned another interesting fact about the family who lives above us.  They are extremely clean.  Their bathroom is located directly above ours (all units resemble each other in apartment buildings), which is located directly behind the livingroom wall.  So as I sit in my livingroom, I hear the water from the shower upstairs running through the pipes.  ALL DAY LONG.  They shower in the morning.  They shower in the afternoon.  They shower at Midnight.  These people shower more often than anyone I've ever met. 

I thought by now I'd be used to the sound of water trickling through the walls of my livingroom, but I'm not.  I don't think I'll ever be.  Even Joey notices it.  The water starts going and Joey goes to wall saying, "What's that, Mommy?"  And I can't use the word 'shower' to explain it to him, (remember this?) So I usually just say, "Oh, that's just the water in the wall honey." Again.